#anyways i need to either be held and doted on or taken out back and shot. or both.

[scalpelsister]

my mouth. is swollen. 😭

[deepseavibez]

Nerve_1 || KNJ

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Nerve [Namjoon x Reader]

Prompt - @casnextdoor

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Part 1 || Stalemate

Part 2 || Ellipsis

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Genre: cheating; aftermath; husband au;

Summary - You would never expect it really. He's doting. He's sweet. He's hardworking. But he's forgotten his morals. Suspecting it is one thing, but when he confirms it, will you stay or walk away.

Warning - Cheating; Negative Thoughts; Questionable Thoughts; Sadness; Pain; Crying; Pure Angst!

Word Count - 5.9k

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🎶 - you broke me first - Tate McRae

'Y/n.'

You heard him come in. You heard the front door close. Usually you’d be jumping into his arms, reaching for a hug, kissing him deeply, but not today. Not for the last two days. Everything felt... foreign.

This was not normal. You shouldn’t feel… off when the love of your life enters your house, or anxious and questionable with his plans or the next set of words leaving his mouth.

He was the cause.

His hands didn't close over you the way they used to. You didn't feel like his when he held you. His eyes wandered as they spoke, unable to look at you for too long. Screw logic when emotion was involved, because when words were in between the ones said and sentences had underlying meaning and confusion clouded every interaction - it was a sign. Something was not right and this was not your Namjoon.

Logic implied you shouldn't throw all the blame on a situation purely based on assumption or react unprovoked. But these two nights, when you slept, you slept next to a stranger. So you distanced yourself as much as he did.

Nevertheless, not one for conflict, not one to jump to conclusions, you answered appropriately. 'Yes Joonie, hold on, let me get this right.'

You had taken out a pizza from the oven and now rolled the cutter through to divide it into six pieces. Maybe ordering in would have been better, but you had the time, and you felt like cooking today anyway.

'Y/n.' You heard again, closer this time.

'Wait Joon, I'm almost done.' You were on the last cut, then you'd leave it in the oven to stay warm until you were ready to eat.

'Y/n.' He was right behind you. Doing your best to remain distracted, you focused on the task at hand. 'We need to talk.'

'Alright, give me a second, I just want to get the pizza back in the oven.' You were annoyed now, reproachful even.

'This is important.' He was pushy and impatient, which was very unlike him.

'So is food,' you chided, 'but okay.' Wiping your hands on your apron, and turning around you looked up at your husband.

He stared for a long moment, and you used your best poker face. He had your attention now. So?

'Come on,' he said softly as he reached out to take your hand and began leading you out of the kitchen.

Planting your feet, you stayed put. 'We can talk right here.' Needless to say, you weren't hell bent on being very cooperative right now. Things were too tense for you to do anything willingly, you just couldn't afford the favor.

'I'd rather you sit down.' He was a bit more even toned now. Less jittery. Either way you didn't budge.

'Alright.' You hopped onto the counter and looked up expectantly. 'I'm listening.'

'I meant on an actual chair.'

You raised your eyebrows. You weren't moving anytime soon.

Joon stared at you and then shook his head in resignation a moment later.

He swallowed hard, before looking back at you.

You twisted your lips, concern evident. Outside you had a pretty good face up, but your heart beat a million miles a minute. Either you knew what he was going to say, or you were way off.

'About Friday night,' he started.

Fuck.

'Ohhhh this is what this is about.' You made your eyes wide in understanding. Reaching out to place your hand on the side of his face you continued. 'Joon there's nothing wrong with getting a bit drunk, you don't usually let yourself go like that. I don't mind taking care of you.'

And you didn't mind taking care of him. A drunk Namjoon wasn't all that bad. Cuddly, clingy and exhibiting the babiest actions you've ever seen on the strong, mature leader. It was different.

'Y/n,' he stopped your hand and pulled it off his face, but he held onto it instead of letting go. 'I was with someone.'

You heard the words. Some part of you understood them almost immediately, but…

'A girl.' Uh huh. Was the room always this hot?

Nodding your head slowly, as if on autopilot, you hummed as you stared at him, through him more like, since his image was blurred at the edges now.

'At the bar.'

Nodding again, you processed this time. Let it sink in. You could feel it now. Panic. 'I see.'

'It didn't mean anything.' You wanted to laugh, of course those words fit somewhere in this explanation.

'Where?'

'Her car.'

'How many times?'

'Once.' Blinking rapidly, he swallowed hard as he added his next to words. 'She sucked me off.'

Hopping off the counter, you looked everywhere but at him as you paced, before pausing and asking another question. 'Was it good?'

'How does that matter.'

'Was. It. Good.' The words ground out of you. You couldn't explain why you needed to know. You didn't need to explain why.

'It was in the moment, I was drunk, and-,'

'I asked if it was fucking good Namjoon!'

At the end of your patience, your world crumbling, he needed to stop digging this hole you were about to push him in.

'No. It wasn't worth it.' You noted him in the corner of your eye, he looked small for once in his life, like he could fold any moment. But he stood as himself, owning it. Owning his bullshit.

'Y/n I'm so-,' he started.

'Don't!' Palm up in his direction, you did not want to hear it. It was too late for that, because no ‘I'm sorry’ was going to erase this. 'I can't hear it right now. Your apology means nothing.'

You almost couldn't breathe. Almost. You almost cried too. Almost. You almost broke down in hysterics and asked if it was a cruel joke. Almost. But you could not let your guard down right now. You would not. This was not the Namjoon that had any right to see you be completely torn.

A giggle bubbled up. It was so unexpected, it triggered a laugh out of you. Humorless and dry you probably looked like a crazy bitch right now. Turning your back completely to him you held onto that counter with both hands. To stay upright and to hold onto something solid as you spoke your next words. 'Do I not give, good enough head, Namjoon. Was that it?'

'Y/n, you know that's not-,'

'I can't deal with this right now.' Tugging the apron over your head you flung it somewhere in the kitchen and began to leave. Explanations be damned.

'We need to talk about this.' His voice was harsh, grated, also seemingly at the end of his patience.

Turning around you scrunched up your eyebrows in disbelief. 'I don't owe you a goddamn thing right now. Let alone the time or the opportunity to explain yourself.'

The pain on his face, the desperation in his voice, did everything it would to you, to a person that was utterly in love with the man standing in front of you. But you could not comfort, or fix things, or care, not this time, not now.

'Please, baby, listen to me. If you just give me a chance to explain.' He reached out toward you.

'Don't touch me!' You retreated from his grasp and turned your back on him.

He followed you as you all but ran to the bedroom. Slamming the door in his face, you heard his fist land on it straight after.

'Y/n, let me in. Let's talk about this. Please baby, we have to talk about this.'

His voice was muffled, but you heard him, your insides crawled at the desperation in his voice, a part of you wanting to open the door.

But if you did, he would have the upper hand. You would give in, and this would be way, way worse to handle. It was not easy. It was not small. It hadn't actually sunk in yet but you knew, you knew, you deserved better.

Looking at the door you took your hand off the knob and noticed you were a bit shaky. Slowly you walked backwards, treating the door like a barrier. Only when the back of your knees touched the bed did you let yourself go, falling on the edge of the mattress. Disbelief. Panic. Pain. Rage.

You shook as you felt the tears form at the edge of your vision. Dropping your head into your hand, you squeezed your eyes shut, letting the tears fall.

How? Why? Was it you? Blinking in tandem with your thoughts as they cascaded, your insides curled. Was it something you did? Something you didn’t do? Something that's always been there? And if there was a seed of doubt, a tiny cut capable of festering, even a moment of second guessing, why hadn't you noticed it.

Things have always been open between you and Joon. He was simple. Busy, rich, successful and well-known, a true entertainer, with the mind of a poet and an old soul, but he was simple.

He wrote songs and adhered to schedule, traveled and performed, he liked riding his bike and walking through museums, sponging eons worth of history, knowledge, only greedy for the answers of the universe.

He was honest, kind, and he genuinely cared. Sure, he knew he was good looking, he knew he had a stage presence that he owned with his every breath, he had boundaries and rules and certain obsessive tendencies that he had every single right in the world to have.

But cheating? Getting drunk, at a bar, and physically getting down and dirty with a girl that was not her?!

You flung the first thing that you noticed on the nightstand, your lava lamp, the one he'd actually bought you. But watching it shatter into pieces, mirrored the rage that had built inside you.

'Y/n!’ There was banging on the door this time. ‘I'll get the spare key and let myself in, if you don’t open up.' You drowned out banging and his threat. You didn’t care right now. You couldn’t. His voice, which was usually something you loved, to listen to him sing and rap and forget the world fucking existed.

Covering your ears, as he knocked and begged you to open up, it was too much, he was being too much, 'Aaargh!! Namjoon, go!'

Your outburst caught him off guard. 'What,no -,'

'I need time dammit. Just go! Leave. Take a walk. Find your side squeeze, just fucking leave me alone right now!' Your throat was hoarse as you screamed at him through your tears.

The banging on the door stopped.

'That's not fair.'

'What's not fair is a wife trusting her husband even when he came home drunk to her arms in their bed, when that same night he was balls deep in someone else!' Under your breath you added, 'talk to me about what's fair.'

'I don't want to leave you alone.' You felt the war within you shape itself, your head or your heart, it would come down to that, because how could one man soften you but compel you to harden.

Shaking your head at the door, you yelled your hardest. 'I don't give a damn what you want right now. Just leave. Just leave.'

Breathing hard, you watched the shadow under the door retreat, his footsteps shifting away softly. You sagged in relief when you heard the front door slam.

Dropping your arms, you sorted through your thoughts without the looming possibility of him barging in. You had only a moment before, hysterical laughter bubbled up within you as you thought of who this bitch was. You swallowed your tears, and god knows what else as you let yourself go. You didn't know her, but she was definitely a hoe. Namjoon was married. The fucking world knew he was taken. He wore a ring on his fucking left hand and you'd been pictured next to him on numerous magazines ever since.

Bile rose in your throat at the humiliation. Not from the world, the world could go to hell. When you lived with an idol, when your life involved cameras and scandals, words hurt a little less when it came from people that didn't even have access to your personal phone number.

No, screw people. It was her. Her. Whoever the fuck she was. You didn't even want to see her. Wait. Did you? Would you want to? What if she's prettier? What if you knew her? What if she was actually someone smarter, better, someone in the idol circle. No. Better not to know. But wouldn't it be worse if she was uglier. I mean standards, right.

What did that actually say about you though?

Shaking your head, you didn't want your mind to stray further. Who she was, her descent, local or not, her career or standing, you weren't that shallow, but did she actually deserve the courtesy when she'd basically fucked your husband.

Your tongue ran across your teeth, as a look of complete disdain crossed your face, your mind straying further. She had her hands all over him, no doubt. Her fingers across his skin, his thighs, his cock. Her fucking mouth on the most intimate parts of him. What if she had sat on his lap, leaning toward him, grabbing at his hair. His arms around her, touching her, groping her.

An anguished cry left you at the thought that he might have kissed her. His lips meeting hers. Her tongue in his fucking mouth. A fresh set of tears triggered at your loss of control.

Your hands roamed the bed covers, clutching them, fisting at them before almost wanting to rip them apart, only your weight at that edge of the bed stopping it from flying across the room.

Your eyes darted from side to side, your chest almost suffocating as you imagined the scenario, sobs bubbling out, as you wailed incoherently.

You stood up as you replayed Friday night in your mind. It wasn't ordinary, but that was only because Joon didn't drink himself the way he did.

You paced, clutching at your hair, covering your mouth, eyes wide, trying to make sense of something, anything, you didn't even know how you were feeling, you didn't know what to feel.

He had rung the doorbell instead of using his keys. Smelling the alcohol immediately, you helped him to bed and cooed at him, making him get some water in before passing out.

You stripped him down and charged his phone and - lipstick! There was a red stain on the collar of his shirt that night. You noticed when you took it off. Too preoccupied with drabble about Freud and the theory of psychoanalysis you didn't give it a second thought. I mean it's not like you knew he had fucked someone that same night. Kim Namjoon? It would have been the day.

Stopping at the door, you placed your palm against it, worked on controlling your breathing, your freehand wiping away the wetness in your face, only to have more tears roll down again.

Did you really mean that little to him. That you were forgotten because you were absent and a little alcohol was in his system.

You turned, so your back leaned against the wall next to the door. Even so far gone, so drunk, could he not remember who he was in love with, who he had chosen to be with.

Whimpering as the mental images became too heavy to bear, you sank to the floor.

Knees clutched against your chest, you dropped your head on them and cried, inhaling when you could, wanting the ground to swallow you whole one moment into the next.

Uncertain. Uncontained. Untrammeled grief tore through you. You could do nothing but let it break you.

Namjoon. What did you even do now? Because there was no way you could just drop by for the hell of it during the week for lunch or smile like you did when there was a surprise delivery of flowers.

Shaking slightly, you wanted to be mad at him. You wanted to claw at your chest so you could rip your heart out because you now realized that these were all reasons to be mad, but you weren’t mad at him.

It was terrifying. That you had forgiven him. Despite the fresh pain and the breakdown and the hurt that ached in your bones. As soon as he was honest, you had forgiven him. You had no excuses for that. You had no proper reasoning. You just felt. You just loved.

It was just that simple and so absolutely hard. And when an overthinker was involved, simple was not simple at all.

Overthinkers had a cabinet of files for the worst case scenario of every situation. Being cheated on, however impossible the odds were, was an option. A far away one, under a dusty set of 'what could actually go wrong'.

Well. Here it was. Falling out of love. Regretting everything. Cheating. Being cheated on.

The truth was that everyone had their own set of insecurities. The world changed all the time and people grew up, grew together or grew apart. It was a fact. It was honest. Some people just grew apart. But this was not one of those times. This was not being good enough. This was somehow not doing your best in the relationship or having something lacking. This was a whole new set of why's and how's that would devastate even the most sturdy, unshakeable relationships.

But most importantly, besides feeling you deserved to be cheated on, this was heartbreak, because when you gave someone your heart, you trusted them not to rip it out of you and trample it.

Resigned, you kept yourself close, tightly clutching at your knees, your hands holding on, your eyes shut, keeping every piece from falling out. What would you do now?

-------

🎶 - The Bones - Maren Morris with Hozier

It was a few hours before you heard footsteps approach the door again. This time his footfalls were softer. A cautious man feeling out the energy before making a move or saying something he would regret.

He stopped at the door and waited a few seconds before knocking.

You didn't answer him. You hadn't moved. You didn't know the time. You didn't want food. You didn't want anything.

'You know I didn't leave.' He sounded complaisant..

'I know.' Your throat hurt; your voice sounding dry and scratchy due to the crying.

You couldn't even scrunch your eyebrows in confusion as you heard shuffling and a slight thump outside the door.

'I'm sorry.' He was right outside the door.

Your backs to each other, leaning against the same wall, facing the opposite direction…how symbolic.

‘I'm so strong Namjoon.’ You admitted softly. ‘I am so strong, but I gave you my best. And you made it mean nothing.’ The hiss in your voice caused you both to flinch.

‘You disrespected me. It doesn't matter who she was, or who saw the both of you or any of those things. You made me look stupid Namjoon.’ You couldn’t even lift your hand to emphasize your point or shake your head in disappointment. ‘This from the man that vouches for my perspective, my ideas, my life choices. The man that fights for my dreams and happiness. It's something I would never expect from you. How do I come back from that?’

‘Would you believe she’s brunette.’ He said after your confession.

You didn’t want to hear this, but you knew you had to. Wincing slightly, your muscles protesting after being in one position too long, you cautiously raised your hand to the doorknob and twisted it softly. It clicked open and you let go, letting it swing open, the creaking in the door-hinge a familiar sound in the silence.

You didn’t step out, neither was he invited in, but the door was open. It was something and so he took it as an opportunity to continue. 'She was not very curvy, bright red lipstick, and long hair. She looked unreal actually. But in a lot of make-up, a lot of salads and selfies, very...perfect sort of way.’

He shifted his head toward the doorway, twiddling a paperclip in his fingers. ‘I am not saying it’s what you lack. That’s just what she looked like. She looked sad. Drank gin and tonic. I noticed her as soon as I walked in.’

‘In a very, she looks different, someone deserving of a double take, she looks sad, probably going through a lot type of way. Always too curious for your own good.’ Your words held no anger, just acceptance. Joon didn’t get out much. His life didn’t even allow something as easy as shopping, so dating, flirting, the butterflies of a stare from across the room, the heat between a new unexplored connection, it was new to him.

‘I approached her, spouted a fact about gin that she smiled at. She didn’t seem to know me. She didn’t have a clouded view of this man that represented a whole country. I think in any other setting we would have been able to be friends, because we seemed to get along. The guys were busy, having fun, they probably didn’t see anything wrong with a normal laughing enjoyable conversation.

As the time went, the guys left, they knew I wouldn’t hit up any clubs with them, that I would come straight home after the bar. And with more alcohol and light touches, things just got hazy and when she leaned forward and kissed me, I just kissed back. It felt weird, different. But it didn’t stop. The feeling of wrong and bad added to the headiness of the situation and before we knew, before I knew it, I was cumming.’ You could hear him click his tongue, battling to get the rest of the words out.

‘As soon as the high wore off I just, she didn’t look, she was, it was vile, I was disgusted. I felt guilty and I’m not even sure what I told her, I just know I pulled my pants up and went back into the bar. I drank in a frenzy, like I wanted to forget, like I could make it seem like I wasn’t entirely conscious, make it as if it never happened.’

You could feel your own heart breaking. It was a twisting in your chest, a pain you couldn’t explain. It was under your skin, in your veins, making you feel like someone was pushing your head under water, uncaring that you were inhaling water, suffocating you, you wrapped your arms around your shoulders, holding on tightly, caging the scream that wanted to leave your lips.

‘I don’t remember much after that. Just being called a cab, the elevator, your face, and then the next morning. I tried to stay away, because the truth crawled in my mouth every time I spoke to you, but every minute I battled myself in the Rkive tore more fear into me. I was terrified that I wouldn’t have you anymore. How could I tell you knowing I’d lose you, but how could I not and keeping it from you was doing just that already.’

Your eyes were damp, but you didn’t have it in you to cry anymore. Over what exactly. What’s done was done. He couldn’t change it. You couldn’t change it.

‘If any of the band was there, or Hoseokie, I think they would have caught you slipping and had you home before any escalations.’

‘Yeah, I don’t think I’ll be going out with the high school boys anymore.’

‘But that’s not the point, is it? Do you need policing or are you a grown man capable of making smart choices?’ You didn’t expect an answer and you knew he couldn’t give you one.

‘We were good, for however long we had, Namjoon.’ You were stepping toward the inevitable since he started explaining. There was no need to drag it out. ‘Good things can't last. It's like the laws of the universe or something. Maybe we should just...let go.’

‘We do have something good. We have something wonderful. I love you y/n. I am in love with you.’

You could hear the hurt in his voice, but he needed to hear, he needed to know the consequences of his actions. ‘If I tell you how awful this makes me feel, do you think you'd be able to look me in the eye ever again?’

Silence.

‘I will look at you and face you, because I own my fuck up. I don't know how long it will take. I don't know exactly how I can make up for this, but I will, I just, y/n, I can't lose you.’

‘You might have already,’ you whispered.

Panic set it in. His outburst, instinctive,'Y/n, please-!'

'Joon what would you do?.' Your interruption wasn't something you had actually thought of during your time alone, but now you were intrigued.

Silence.

Despite the understanding that you had caught up off guard, you pressed further. 'It's a serious question, what would you do? I've given you everything I could. I know it's hard some days. And I can be stubborn and demanding. I can be clingy and annoying. I make bad choices sometimes, I argue a lot with you. I know I cut into your time. And I have days where I need space because everything in my head is all jumbled up inside. But those insecurities. That, not being enough, and yet being too much. Doesn't this solidify that.'

'Don't do this.' His protest was weak. A plea more like. It broke you even more.

Bucking up you clenched your jaw, a steely determination clouding your hurt. 'You said you wanted to talk about it.'

'I want to fix this!' He all but shouted, his latter statement causing you to flinch internally. 'You're talking about leaving me.'

'You can't leave me,' he repeated softly, more to himself than you.

What else could you do? What other way was there? Sure, maybe you weren't enough to be loyal to, but sticking around forcing your existence onto him.

'You obviously cheated for a reason Namjoon. When you're drunk, there is absolutely no way to control your urges, but there's also an honest element to it. She obviously had something I didn't. You wanted her.'

'I'll admit at the time, my goddamn cock was up, but it was in the moment. You know I don't disrespect women, but when I say she means absolutely nothing, I mean it. We can get through this.’

‘How do I sleep next to you knowing you forgot me. How do I get through the day waking up and being normal, when you could do it again, anytime you go out; that it was okay to cheat on me. You could lie about it.’

‘I never lied.’

‘And I’ll give you that.’ Which you did. His honesty changed the game for both of you. ‘But to cheat is to tell me that you do not feel as much love for me as I do for you.’

‘I love you.’ He was scrambling, unable to be convincing, too worked up to think of more.

‘I never said you didn't. You do. I know you do. That's why we're sitting here right now. Trying. But you gave someone else my right. Something I am only entitled to do. And if for one second you think that it’s not that deep, then there isn't anything left to talk about.’

‘I think I'd lose my mind. If it were, if the roles were reversed. I do my best to be humble. Yes, I have money, a luxurious life and clothes worth more than houses and there's so many girls around the world that I could have. But I picked you. And to know that I was, I have tolerable flaws and that I'm not that bad of a person and to get cheated on... not when I loved and made the effort and tried with everything in me to make it work.’

You heard him place his hand to the wall.

‘Y/n. I understand. I do. And I will give you as much time as you need. I can give you space. I can take the guest bedroom. I can pick up more than my weight around here. But don’t leave. Don't give up on us.’ Words slurred, you could tell he was crying. ‘You're the most important thing in the world to me. Please stay. Please.’

‘Do you think we're strong,’ you asked. It was a loaded question. One that could switch the train on a different track.

‘I do.’

‘Then you'll give us time.’ Your reply cutting the rope you had him think you were giving.

His heart was in his throat, his mind razed in regret. He had to make this right. ‘What if, in your time, you realize you can't forgive me.’

‘What if at the same time you realize you cheated because I am not what you want anymore,’ you countered.

Something vehemently protested within him. But he couldn't voice it. Not when his actions went against everything he could possibly speak on. ‘I know I hurt you, but can you please tell me, right now, even after all of this, if I'm still the Namjoon you love.’

Your reply was instinctive, no pain, no mistake, no person in the world would change it. ‘You're my favourite person in the world. Even now. You're my Namjoon. But-,’

‘No. No buts. You stay. You take your time. You get your space. I'll fight. I’ll fight for you. I'll fight for us.’

It was unbearable how believable his words were. Was it just everything inside you not wanting to leave this life, this love or was he speaking the truth. Your heart said the latter.

‘This can't happen again.’

There it was. The first step. The first inch. The first opportunity to a direction was the fork in the road. He latched onto it. With sheer will, he would work with it. A sliver of hope was better than nothing at all. ‘You don't even have to say it. Never again y/n.’

Cautiously he reached out his hand, shaking slightly, apprehension evident, he placed it at the doorway. A second, ten. Maybe you weren't looking, not seeing it. He couldn't blame you even if you saw it and didn't want to take it. But he would wait, he would -

He jumped as he felt your fingers creep between his. They didn't hold. They didn't curl into his palm willingly. They were there.

A pang of guilt furled from deep within him threatened to have him grip at your hand, in hopes of keeping you to him. But fighting every instinct, he just pushed his fingers a bit closer as it sat loosely against yours. Linked but not at all.

‘You have a lot ahead of you. I'm going to be second guessing everything. Something in me says I can still trust you, but every bit of the cold fear surrounding it demands I be cautious. You won't get this again. I can't. I will break and even you will not be able to put me back together.’

‘I love you,’ he repeated.

‘I know.’

‘We'll be okay.’

‘I hope, with everything in me, you're right.’

A beat of silence, before a tap on your finger had you looking toward your hand. 'So you'll stay?'

His voice was soft, as if saying it too loud will draw too much attention to what he was asking, as if a by the way answer would allow him more time to make things right, as if your reply would set anything in stone.

Even now you wouldn't shy away from Namjoon. Despite his mistakes, as a person, he could understand how you thought, how deeply the train wheels were ingrained on tracks of rust and debris, but moving forward, going strong, thought after thought, one fact stood out; turning the page without him tagging along for the story, didn't feel right. He fit, with you. He was yours. 'I feel like leaving will hurt more.'

That felt better for you. Easier to say. The serrated edge of the situation slightly dulled. Now, whether it was right, time would tell.

Though he asked, begged in fact, for you to stay, for you to answer as you did and it was what he wanted, it was almost overwhelming, the surge of emotion that spread through him. He was moved. He was reminded then, of what he had always known; you were more than anything he could ever deserve, and worth everything he could give you. Security, affection or freedom, because your capacity to forgive leaps and bounds ahead of his.

And if you had left, he would understand, but understanding was not the same as doing.

He'd had the weekend to think of every way this could have turned out. Lying was never on the table. He'd felt it as much as you had. Annoyance, resentment, being on guard and second guessing words, a silent smothering, that would have ruined you both. So he would tell the truth. And he would have followed you. Taken care of you. Been there for you in any way you would allow. But he wouldn't let you go. He knew you loved him. And he would make it up, somehow, someway. He had to. As long as you loved him.

Giving in to his need to hold you to him, his hand closed into a fist around the tips of your fingers in his palm; secure, immovable.

You looked away, not needing to pull your hand back, not needing to look anymore either. Everything felt far away. A future involving you both, off kilter for the moment. Tomorrow felt like it would take place in an eternity. You could feel every moment pass. Every beat of your heart a dreary ache. Every breath you took building up resistance, a defense, an offense, a way to get through this with some of you intact. Because staying felt like it was the light at the end of a very dark tunnel.

Once upon a time you would loath the very idea of staying with someone who made a mistake such as this one. But he was sorry, he knew he'd done you wrong and he'd been honest. It was a start.

Over and over the wheels turned in your head, justifying your actions, because love was not always enough. But with love, this was a choice you would make. Namjoon was someone you would give a second chance to. Not just because you couldn't imagine a life with anyone else, but because you were willing to love him through everything, even the pain he’d caused you.

And so they sat, the moon shining through the window opposite her in their shared bedroom, and him in the complete darkness of the cold hallway, back to back.

It was okay. She needed the moon right now. The stars, a reminder that even the smallest bits of something pretty, engulfed by a blanket of the night sky, could shed even a little bit of light.

Fragments didn't have to be whole to work. Pieces could be pushed together, rebuilt into something better.

And maybe, just maybe, cracks could serve as a reminder that broken things were the most beautiful.

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Part 1 || Stalemate

Part 2 || Ellipsis

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[lin-nin]

Hey I totally loved reading your head cannons about Techno, Schlatt, Dream, and BBH accidentally killing their s/o's. I had a request and feel free to decline this if it's too heavy or whatever. What if those four lost a baby with you? Be it a child or a premature baby.

onHe We really suffering with these four two days in a row, huh? Obvious warning for pregnancy, birth, death, gore, miscarriage, all the like! This definitely is a heavier topic but I have no problem writing it. Obvious afab reader, as well :) Added a bonus Philza bc this angst prompt was screaming for some Philza.

Techno losing his child

When you had told Techno you were pregnant, carrying his child, he had been ecstatic. The way he smiled at you was enough to make you melt, especially as he held you close. He would often hold your forming bump, or nuzzle his face against it. The way he cared for you and the child you shared was so incredibly tender, making sure everything was okay for the two of you, for your unplanned family.

He rarely left you alone for long, not wanting you to be unprotected. He had only been at the farm when you had felt it, the sharp pain in your back. It had you staggering, tears in your eyes and hand fluttering immediately to your stomach. You knew something was wrong, and it was confirmed when the blood was on your thighs. You had screamed bloody murder, causing Techno to rush in, axe drawn. Ready to take down whatever had caused you to scream. Only to freeze when he saw you on the floor, sobbing and screaming.

It didn’t take long for him to understand. Especially with the amount of blood there was. He didn’t grieve at first, so worried for you. You always came first. He had helped you, albeit with shaking hands, clean everything up. He even helped you into the tub, hands stroking your hair from your face. You had grown numb and despondent, barely aware of his words. It hurt to see you like that.

He reassured you that it wasn’t your fault- because it wasn’t. It was nothing either of you could have stopped, but you still blamed yourself. He did mourn, though. While unplanned, he had been excited. He had looked forward to being able to raise a child with you. He reassured you in the end that the two of you could try again. Whenever the both of you were ready.

Schlatt losing his child

Becoming pregnant had not been your intention. Not in your plans for years to come. You had simply been fooling around, drinking with Schlatt and maybe getting a bit handsy. So when a few months had passed and you found yourself sick on the regular, a growing bump on your stomach, you were horrified. Not against it, entirely. Just taken purely by surprise.

Schlatt had been a little more vocal about it, expressing his disbelief loudly. He didn’t want to be a father. At least he didn’t think he did. He had just wanted to have fun. That’s all he ever wanted- to do as he please. He didn’t please to be a parent. Yet it was coming anyways.

As he watched you teeter around, pregnancy increasingly obvious, he found himself much more open to the idea. And when you had given birth- a healthy baby boy- he was there. He was there, and he was sober. He even was teary eyed when he got to hold his son. Everything was okay for a couple of weeks, until you noted that he wasn’t eating as much as he should be. He only seemed to grow weaker from there, before succumbing to whatever sickness had grabbed a hold of him.

You had cried, feeling utterly broken. Like you hadn’t protected him enough. Schlatt lapsed into drinking more than normal. He was angrier, snapping at anyone who even brought up his son. The only person he tolerated it from was you. Especially when you had shown up, eyes red from crying, requesting a drink. The two of you weren’t together, but you could definitely grieve your son together. It was, at the very least, cause for a friendship between you two. You had wanted a son, you had had him, and you had lost him. Schlatt felt largely the same, and the only thing that numbed the pain of the loss was alcohol. Lots and lots of alcohol.

Dream losing his child

Whatever gods there were seemed to have a sick sense of humor. You loved Dream so much. Everyone knew it, it was clear in the way you looked at him. Everyone knew he loved you the same, too. Especially in the early days, when he didn’t hide his tender touches and soft kisses from the public eye. Even when things started to change, when he grew defensive and angry, he still loved you the same. Even if it was harder for everyone else to tell, you knew. You could see it in his eyes. You were his weakness.

Which had lead to an argument between the two of you. You were a weakness, a liability, in danger. Something he needed to rid himself of. Which was when you had dropped on him that you were pregnant. It wasn’t what you had planned, not the way you’d wanted to tell him. It was almost as if the words had short circuited his brain, tongue turning to lead. He seemed to soften up after that. At least towards you. Only in private. In public he had only seemed to deny any attachment to you vehemently.

Your pregnancy had progressed normally, and everyone quickly knew of it. There were some congratulations, while others worried about Dream’s ability to be a father figure. You didn’t entirely pay them mind. Of course, nothing ever went smoothly with Dream. You had no way of knowing that when you went into labor, your baby would have come out without air in her little lungs or a beat to her heart. You had cried, so much. Holding her little body against you. Dream had seemed to shut down, staring down at his lifeless daughter.

He seemed distant afterwards. He blamed himself, truly. For maybe if he had been a better person, his daughter would have been born alive. He had practically cut you off, saying that he couldn’t risk you going through that pain and loss again due to his actions. It showed him that even if he wanted all the control in the world, there were some things he couldn’t control. The best way he could control this was by removing you from being put in that situation again.

Bad losing his child

Bad was always vocal with his love for you. You adored it, relishing in the way he would proudly tell anyone who would listen about you. It was endearing and you couldn’t help but tug at his sleeve to get him to lean down so you could kiss his cheek. That’s why it was no surprise when you had fallen pregnant. It was still in the early days, then, too. Back when L’Manberg was still around. You didn’t involve yourself too much with it, though. You were too focused on making everything perfect for your baby.

Bad had pampered you like there was no tomorrow. Getting you flowers, and your favorite baked goods from Nihachu. He would carry you around everywhere. He doted on you and made sure you got everything you wanted and that you were as healthy as can be. You adored it, and always responded by kissing the tip of his horns lovingly.

That’s why it was a surprise when your contractions had come early. Far too early. Bad fretted over you, which only seemed to stress you out. The baby was so tiny when she was born. Yet she was alive, and somehow still perfect. Your sweet angel. You loved her, staying by her side religiously. Bad was much the same, scared to even sleep. She spent so long fighting for her life. She was too small, too young, too underdeveloped. You knew it would happen eventually, her chances of survival low. It was why you cherished every moment with her.

Yet when she had finally lost the energy to fight to breathe, in your arms, you bawled. You cried for days on end, letting Bad hold you close as you did. He only held you, rocking you back and forth. He was hurt, unsure what to say o comfort you. Until one day he came to you, a newfound light in his eyes. Claiming to have found your baby, just in a new form. You had followed him, hoping that whatever it was he was right about. As you saw the red vines he presented to you, you felt the same attachment you had felt for your daughter. This really was her, wasn’t it?

Philza losing his child

Philza had been so excited when you had given birth to his son. His second child, at least biologically. He doted on the pair of you like there was no tomorrow. Always telling you how proud he was of you, how much he loved you. Giving your son everything in the world. After all, after losing Wilbur, he was determined to make sure he didn’t lose his second child. Especially when the boy’s wings started to flourish.

Teaching him to fly had always been his favorite thing, especially as he got the hang of it and could effortlessly soar through the skies with him. You would often find shelter under a tree, fondly watching the pair of them fly. As he grew, he had begun flying on his own, straying further from Philza. You never worried. There wasn’t anything to worry about. Until one day you watched him get struck in the chest with the bolt of a crossbow, helplessly watching him plummet almost immediately to the ground.

You had screamed, and so had Philza. He absolutely could not lose a second son, but watching his child speed down to the earth, he already knew he had. He looked with a vengeance for who had killed his son, while you scrambled your way over to where he had landed. Finding the culprit was easy, at least with wings. He hadn’t even thought twice when he had found the fleeing orange flurry that was undoubtedly his grandson. His trident wasn’t in his hand for long, being thrown straight into him.

Fundy had been vehement in his last breaths, insisting that Philza couldn’t love him as a grandson, and couldn’t love his other son properly either. Philza had no interest in his words, simply ripping his trident from his body and leaving. He grieved heavily when he had returned to your side, helping you bury your son. Despite his grief, and clear depression, he never pushed you away or distanced himself. If anything, he seemed to hold you closer. As if it would repair the damage left on both of you.

[corruptedconfessions]

Could you write some yandere naga uraraka sfw and nsfw headcanons please . Thank you so much !

If you dont feel comfortable writing for female characters please just ignore this uwu

Love me some Uraraka <3 Honestly Id love more female character requests! Also I wrote this with more of a fem reader in mind, but it is still entirely gender neutral, even the nsfw bits! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

SFW:

-Uraraka is very very protective of her darling. The second anything gets close to you, anything even looks at you in a way she doesn't like she's striking out in an instant, killing whatever she deemed as a threat.

-Incredibly strong, you will often have to whimper up at her to loosen her grip, or wake her up when you're sleeping together because her coils have tightened too tight around you. She doesn't realize her own strength, nor does she realize how fragile you are compared to her.

-I think she would be one of the better nagas to be stuck with. Despite the having to remind her not to crush you thing, she's incredibly sweet and tender towards you.

-She spoils you silly, bringing you tasty fruits, expensive furs and blankets from nearby villages. She'll even raid taverns and restaurants to get you and her lots tasty food if there are ones close to her nest

-Which there probably are, she has always preferred the presence of humans over other nagas or other supernatural creatures. She's fascinated by them, loving their silly little Knick Knacks, or the way they act, sing, dance, eat, everything about it is just so enthralling to her, she just can't stay away.

-Its really no surprise when she snatches up a cute little human to be her mate. She's shown absolutely zero interest in any other naga that has attempted to court her, and with her almost unhealthy obsession with them...well it was only a matter of time.

-Despite usually being very calm and patient (outside of protecting you) you were very much an impulse decision. She saw you and she was star struck, true love at first sight for her. She saw you and she just knew...you were hers, she needed you. She was striking out of the grass and trees before she even realized she had moved. Normally she tried to stay out of sight of humans, watch from a distance or unseen, the second her hands touched your arms to grab you she knew she could never let you go. Jolts ran through her like she had been shocked, her breath pulled out of her, eyes wide and amazed as she looked at nothing but you you you. She hoped she would get to see more than your scared face very very soon.

-You're just so.../warm/. Are all humans this warm?? She never wants to let you go, hugging you feels like that warm feeling in her tummy she gets when shes spread out on her favorite rock, bathing in the warmth of the sun.

-L o t s of body exploration, especially at first. She'll want to touch you /everywhere/ her hands will run across your body like she cant decide where she wants to touch first. She'll tug at your clothes, spread her hands against your tummy, marvel at the feeling of your heart beat fluttering against your skin, she's especially fascinated by your legs and toes...and your sex of course.

-Expect lots of lazy days cuddling and eating sweets and bread stolen from nearby villages. You'll have to grow accustom to being tangled in her tail and arms, she always wants to be close to you. Often times getting frustrated that she can't be closer even when you're pressed flush against each other...

-You'll be spoiled and doted on. You want to go on a walk? Lets go! Hot springs? Perfect! You wanna climb trees together? Race ya! You wont be trapped to a smelly old cave thats for sure

-Her only rule is no humans, you're not allowed to go home, to visit, to speak to anyone no matter how much you promise to come back or how she can come with and watch from the shadows.

-And if you decide to go behind her back and do it anyway? Wiggle out of her grip at night or slip out while she's left you to go hunting? Well, you'll have a harsh reminder of exactly who owns you.

-Sure, she's been sweet and kind to you this far, but you've forgotten she's a naga, cold, ruthless, killers. And she'll make sure to teach you a lesson you wont soon forget.

-You're painfully reminded of how strong she is, of how cold and ruthless as you watch her tear entire adult humans to shreds in a matter of seconds. Its almost sadistic the way she rips and tears at them, fangs bared and eyes glowing against the blood fest.

-You'll be ever so carefully scooped up by still bloody claws, squished against her chest and taken home no matter how much you shake or cry. Once your home your begs for her to wash off the blood go ignored as she curls up in her nest, in your shared nest, wrapping you extra tight in her tail as she settles down and leaves you to try and sleep, the heavy smell of old copper in your nose, and the flashes of screams and pictures of dead bodies staring sightlessly back at you every time you close your eyes.

NSFW:

-Body exploration very rarely will stay safe for work...she is very /very/ interested in what you have going on between your legs, and she is going to inspect it /thoroughly/

-At first its completely accidental, snakes often smell and explore using their tongue, but after seeing such a cute reaction she has to do it more. Sure she'll rub and massage you with her fingers, exploring every inch of you, but she isn't quite as nimble with her hands as humans, and you have some concerns about having her claws that you've seen go straight through someone's skull scraping at your sensitive bits.

-Watching you squirm as she drags her tongue along you, face flushing and scent sweetening with the hint of arousal gets her interest. Clawed hands will wrap around your waist, holding you down as she lavishes you with attention, licking and sucking at you until your toes are curling and you're whining through your first orgasm

-She...she likes that. She likes it a lot. You're barely given time to recover before she's diving between your legs again, licking and slurping even more eagerly. She's smart, attentive, noticing the spots that made your hips instinctually twitch against her hands, the spots that make you make the prettiest noises. You couldn't wish for a better lover.

-At least...until she doesn't stop. She'll keep going and going and going, addicted to the taste of you, licking up every drop, stimulating you through orgasm after orgasm until you're shaking and crying, whimpering for her to stop. No more please, it /hurts/, you cant again.

-Unfortunately those whines and cries just make her even more eager. You're stuck there, laid back in the soft nest, hips tilted up and held in place by strong hands as her head stays buried between your thighs.

-Don't try closing your legs either, the feeling of your thighs clamping around her head just makes her even more happy and settled, Hell, even after she's decided shes finished milking every orgasm you have out of you she might stay settled between your legs, enjoying her earmuffs as she licks you clean before settling down, nose still pressed against your bare sex as she settles down for a nap.

-You can expect that to happen again very very soon. For once you might wish your yandere wasn't so doting. Hours of lavishing you with touches and orgasms, completely uncaring of her own pleasure will become routine for you.

-Besides, she isn't stupid~ She notices how much more cuddly and complaint you are when she fucks the energy out of you~ She likes her loose melty human who lets her move them any way she likes if she makes them tired enough.

[shhhlikeme]

Getting Railed By Your Jealous Bf Ushijima After He Meets Your Childhood Ex (Who Wants You Back!)📱📞

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Birthday Event Req By @juminly :

So I was trying to request the following >.<: a NSFW Ushi drabble with f!reader. Ushi being triggered by jealousy or something that happened between f!reader and someone else? I initially wrote a few kinks and you could go ahead with whatever inspires you! [cockwarming, face-sitting, blowjob, mirror sex, bondage, dirty talk or anything else tbh... and soft!dom!ushi]

———————————

A/N: I’m glad we overcame the technical difficulties for you to eventually send this req. hope you like it babes. I still have 2 more reqs from the event that shouldn’t take too long, thanks for being patient!

(NSFW 18+)

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Getting Railed By Your Jealous Bf Ushijima After He Meets Your Childhood Ex (Who Wants You Back!)📱📞

———————————

Sooooooooo

It’s canon that Ushi is a very calm and collected bf

Your friends love him 💕

Your pet loved him 💕

And your family loves him

Or that’s what Ushi always thought...... until tonight.

You and Toshi went to your parents house for an elegant middle aged people dinner party they were throwing with all their friends from the neighborhood

Ushijima wore a suit and everything 💜💜💜 you wore in a beautiful green dress and small heels to match him

CUTIES

The dinner party was great: 🎶 classy , bougie, ratchet extremely classy haha 💎

Until.......

your parent’s best friends’ son—Jeremy—happened to be home too.

Actually , he surprised everyone, crashing the party unexpectedly

And he brought gifts🤨.

Making a huge entrance that had everyone screaming in delight and hugging him, Ushijima couldn’t help but feel a little jealous of the way your family fawned over your childhood friend

Your parents can’t help but gush over Jeremy, because they’ve always wanted you to marry him and move with him to America to study cosmetic surgery

In high school you two dated a little, but then you realized it was all for the benefit of your parents and you agreed to break up but remained distant friends

You were good with that , as you thought it was a mutual decision

But it wasn’t. Jeremy truly had feelings for you and they hadn’t stopped just because he moved away and finished med school

“These are for you, Y/N.” Jeremy smoothly handed you a bouquet of your favourite type of flowers

You hadn’t the heart to tell him your favourite type had changed since high school :S

“And Wakatoshi-san, I didn’t know you would be here. Apologies.” He shook his hand.

Ushijima’s face was hard. “I don’t know why I would not be.....?” He answered with a slight eyebrow raise, squeezing Jeremy’s hand right back.

Hose down that fire Y/N

Anyway, even though your parents like Ushi a lot, it was pretty obvious to you AND your boyfriend that both them + Jeremy’s parents never gave up hope that you two would one day get back together

Not to mention They were as subtle as elephants in a library

They got the fucking photo album, showing everyone including Ushijima pictures of you and Jeremy bathing together as babies and kissing before prom

SMFH!

“Oh, you live in Beverly Hills, now?” Your mom’s eyes sparkled at Jeremy as he showed her pictures of his mansion on his phone. “Y/N looooves that part of Los Angeles, don’t you, honey?”

You noticed Ushijima stiffen. He was thinking about the love of his life, you, living in LA in Jeremy’s ugly mansion and it pissed this Ace off.

You nodded slowly, giving your mom a warning glance. “Sure, when I was 15.”

“Hey Jeremy, your father told me last weekend that you know of bunch of players on the LA Rams?”

Jeremy nodded proudly. “Yes sir. A lot of their wives and mothers are patients of mine, so the starting line up usually sends me Christmas cards with season passes and signed memorabilia so that I up their women on the waiting lists. Whenever you’re in America and you’d like to go see a game, just let me know.”

You rolled your eyes at how loud your father exclaimed in joy. “I keep telling you to call me YF/N!” He clapped. “And that’s a real sport right there. Football, Baseball, Soccer. Everything else is a joke to real men.” Your father finished.

“DAD!” You chastised, stomping your foot under the table.

“What—?”

You glowered are him. “In case you FORGOT.....Ushijima happens to be a professional volleyball player.”

Your dad had clearly forgotten, trying to blubber out an apology. Ushijima interrupted him, putting a hand on yours to settle his furious girlfriend.

“That’s quite alright, sir. I took no offence to it.” Ushi was used to other men not recognizing volleyball as a manly sport—he is very confident so that didn’t bother him. Rather, what stung was the fact that your father had never asked Toshi to call him by his first name before, and you two had been dating for three years.

To your dismay, Yours and Jeremys parents continued to say annoying shit like that all night

Jeremy loved it 🙄

You hated it, and defended your man at any chance you got

Ushijima stayed silent through it all, trying to calm you down actually.

Like I said he’s confident and not easily shaken

He only had had enough when the conversation changed to Jeremy’s explanation of liking his life and his career but it all never seeming good enough because of “the one that got away” and how “she seems happy in a relationship now” but “he would do anything to get her back”

Meanwhile he’s sneaking heartfelt glances at you 🤬🤬🤬🤢

Your mother and father were doting, looking at you and eachother as if to say “come onnnnn Y/N give him another chance”

Ushijima picked up on it all.

At one point during Jeremy’s explanation of ‘the one that got away’ you stuck your finger down your throat to make a gagging noise childishly

YOUR PARENTS WERE NOT HAPPY LMAO

anyway, at the end of the night you said bye to everyone..... and Jeremy asked to speak to you in private on the empty porch

Ushijima watched with a locked jaw by the car, leaning on it so he could stare openly

He was justly heated as he watched the conversation (but couldn’t hear anything) happening on the porch at night

He witnessed Jeremy write down what had to be his number and hold it in front of you for you to take

You hesitated, not sure if you should take it just to avoid causing more waves with both parents or to stomp on his foot

Luckily you didn’t need to do either because Ushijima had silently stormed over in a millisecond, whisking the paper from Jeremy’s hand, staring at his number written on the paper before crumbling it and throwing it over his shoulder.

“She doesn’t need it. Goodnight, Jeremy.”

Ushi grabbed your hand and walked you to the car angry af, you had to jog in your heels to keep up with him

This man was maaad and silent the whole way home, thinking about how everyone seems to be so sure that your ex could have given you a better life

He still held your hand the entire drive though, so clearly he wasn’t mad at you ❤️

He hated that everyone liked this Jeremy better all because he went down the conventional path to success:

Hadn’t Toshi paid for everything? Hadn’t Toshi massaged your feet? Hadn’t Toshi made you extremely happy? Hadn’t they seen how you were treated? Did you believe someone could do better?

Nonsense.

Toshi knew that he was the BEST boy and that no one could dare love you more or treat you better....... and you tended to agree

But Toshi needed to hear you say it.

He needed to feel it, too.

Upon arriving at yours & Toshi’s gorgeous modern home:

Toshi hurriedly closed the door

you hadn’t even fully taken off your heels yet when you felt your boyfriend pressed himself against you from behind, lifting your dress up and rubbing his long hard cock print on your pantied pussy lips as you bent over

You moaned and started to get wet immediately

“Take off the panties.” He ordered.

you did obviously 😭 almost tripped with how fast you did it

Horny bish lol

Your boyfriend then picked you up in his strong arms and walked a few steps into the foyer, placing you so your ass was sitting on the 7th marble stair. He knelt down in between your legs and spread them while you sat on the staircase

He squeezed your ass in his large hands and dove into your pussy with his lips then tongue, immediately skipping the gentle licks... and tongue fucking your entrance into oblivion

His tongue was wet, strong and needy and fuck you choked on your own cries

You threw your head back, already screaming Ushi’s name

“Mmm scream my name just like that. Let everyone hear who you belong to.” He paused tongue fucking you to order.

you shuddered as you felt his warm breath on your clit and Ushi expertly enclosed his mouth around your sopping cunt, French kissing your clit into his mouth and sucking on it like a tiny lollipop

You tugged on his hair and screamed his name louder, feeling your interior walls clench

Once your legs started shaking because you were about to fall over the edge, Ushi picked you up again, making you wrap your legs around his waist

Toshi bent down quickly to empty his pockets which consisted of his keys, wallet, and his phone, placing it where you were just sitting when he was eating you out

Ushiwaka pressed your back against the wall beside the staircase.....

He held your entire body weight with one arm as he leaned in to kiss your neck, using his other hand to unbuckle his belt and kick his pants off

When he was freed & nude, he asked you kindly if you were ready and once you nodded he put one of his feet on the sixth stair, the other on the fifth, then thrusted deep into your soaking heat

He wasted no time in pounding you into the wall, the slight pain of the hard wall and your boyfriend’s hard dick somehow heightening the pleasure factor

Ushijima took both of your wrists in his gigantic hand and locked them above your head as he gave you nice and deep thrusts the way you both like it

“So fucking wet. All because of me, correct? I’m the only one who makes your pussy drip like this.”

Your pussy answered:💧 💧💧💧💧💧💧💧

Your vaginal walls squeezed around his dick and you bit his shoulder because the pleasure disallowed you to speak and Ushi groaned out

“Say. This. Tight. Pussy. Is. Mine.” He grunted as he circled his hips a bit while pounding, his voice grave.

Toshi picked up the pace as your soaking wet walls clenched around him even more from his dirty talk.

“Say. Who. This. Pussy. Belongs. To. Beautiful.”

You were being fucked too well, you couldn’t speak, you could only moan ... like usual

But your boyfriend wasn’t having any of that tonight.

He let go of your captive wrists and held you with both hands again, stepping downstairs and stopping in front of the large mirror in your foyer, turning so that only you could see yourself poking over his large shoulder, along with your boyfriend’s fine juicy ass and back calf muscles 🤤

Ushi grabbed the back of your neck (not enough to hurt) but just enough so that your head was up and you were looking at yourself in the mirror. He began to fuck you again, getting nice and deep in your pussy as he made you bounce on his dick in his arms

“Are you seeing yourself?” He laughed sexily. “Getting dumb-fucked, Princess? Whose dick are you taking, Y/N?” Wakatoshi groaned as your pussy clenched around him even more. He could tell you were about to cum and that he wouldn’t be long after. But he needed to hear you say something first.

“Who is your first choice, Y/N? Who fucks you like this every night? Who’s dick can you never get enough of? Me? Or Him?”

In your stupor, you watched yourself in the mirror: Toshi’s delectable ass flexing as he pushed in and out of you, feeling his strong hand gripping your neck. You weren’t a big talker during sex and bae knew that, but the amazing feeling of this angry jealous sex was too much, his big dick felt too fucking good..... and one particularly hard thrust from him that grazed your g-spot in the besssst way gave you the energy to cry out;

“YOU, TOSH. FUCK THAT JEREMY, HE COULD NEVER FUCK ME LIKE YOU DO. OR TAKE CARE OF ME LIKE YOU DO. I DON’T WANT OR NEED ANYONE ELSE BUT YOU. YOU’RE THE BEST BOY WITH THE BEST DICK. NO ONE CAN EVEN C-COME CLOSE TO YOU. YOU —OH, OH, OH MY GOD, I’M GONNA—“

Wakatoshi let go of your neck, landing soft kisses on your neck while he returned to gripping your ass with both hands now, sliding you up and down his long, hard, soaking wet dick from your juices.

It felt so fucking good 😩

“That’s right princess. I’ve heard enough, baby. I knew it: I just needed to hear you say it. Now cum for me.”

when you did, you made sure to scream out all the praises you always told toshi when you weren’t getting fucked, making him feel like a King, reassuring him that your mind, body, and soul belonged to him and NO ONE else.

Wakatoshi found his release soon after from your pussy but also from your words, shooting his thick cum up inside you for you to take as he caressed your back and whispered how much he loved you in your ear.

Then, as you laid limp in his arms, he left his cock to stay warm inside you and went back to the stairs, fully prepared to go head up and bathe you, then put you to bed.

But as he passed the sixth step, though, Toshi bent down to pick up his keys, wallet and phone that he’d set there.

As you fell asleep on his shoulder, Ushi grinned at his phone screen, pressing send to the voicemail message he’d just recorded.

Whoops 😏 must have accidentally butt-dialed someone before fucking you and left a long message by accident

😕ohno😕

With a photographic memory, it wasn’t difficult for the Ace to remember such a plastic surgeon’s phone number when Ushi saw it on the note.....

And Toshi could explain to you how sorry he was that he’d accidentally dialed it before railing you to sleep on the stairs and in the foyer

But truth be told, your boyfriend’s only real regret would be not being able to see the look on Jeremy’s face when he listened to it on his flight back home.

Bday Event Masterlist

[xxdragonwriterxx]

Hi! how about one where Levi and his fem s/o sleep together for the first time and reader finds out that Levi sleep talking about how much he loves her and that he's very lucky to have her in his life. The next morning when they wake up reader teases him about it and he's very embarassed? Thank you so much, I’m sorry for my bad English. I love you❤️

A/N: Hello anon! 💕Thank you so much for requesting, this idea just had my heart melting and I loved it because I sleep talk all the time (when I actually manage to sleep) so it was fun to write based on experience (curtesy of my sis & friends telling me about my sleep talk endeavors). I’m sorry it’s taken so long for me to get it out to you, my ADHD has been really out of control lately. I really struggle with it sometimes, so I hope I didn’t keep you waiting for too long. I’ve also been having horrible migraines on and off for the past couple days so that’s what the beginning of the story was inspired by 😅. Thank you so much for your patience, I really appreciate it. Also your english is absolutely fine, love! I hope this is what you were looking for! ❤️

🐉Song Recommendation: “The Ghost on the Shore” By: Lord Huron” 🐉

~~~

🔥Woman of My Dreams 🔥

(Y/N) knew she was supposed to be working, helping Captain Levi with his massive load of paperwork, but she couldn’t focus for the life of her, too distracted by the pained look on her captain’s face. He must’ve felt her watching him, because he glanced up at her, his eyes distant and slightly glazed but narrowed, silently telling her to get back to work. She scowled at him and turned her gaze back to the stack of proposals in her lap, chewing on the end of her pen as she attempted to refocus on the words in front of her. Despite her best efforts, her mind kept straying back to the raven-haired man at his desk, his occasional grunts and annoyed sighs alerting her to his struggle.

(Y/N) was always in awe of her boyfriend’s work ethic, constantly left wondering how someone with so much stress could still manage to push forward. He never seemed to fail at anything he tried, and he constantly pushed his mind and body to the limits, foregoing the need for rest and food in favor of getting everything done in one night. But while that part of her would always be proud of him and his ability to do so much, another part of her hated it. She hated how he’d sacrifice his own health for the sake of others, pushing himself until his body nearly shut down. Tonight, was one of those nights.

She knew Levi had a horrendous migraine. He was usually prone to the headaches that seemed to crack the skull open, but this one seemed particularly awful. He was constantly massaging his forehead and his eyes were unfocused and filled with pain. Tiny whimpers and groans would occasionally escape him, showing her just how much it was affecting him. Levi was usually able to push through the pain and suffer in silence, but this migraine of his seemed intent on making him as miserable as possible. He hadn’t finished more than two pages of work since they had started, and it was clear he was nearing his breaking point.

Knowing his preference for powering through the pain, (Y/N) usually left him to his own devices when he had a migraine like this, trying to make his life easier in more subtle ways like bringing him tea and helping him with more paperwork than usual, but this time, she refused to ignore it. It was clear he was too stubborn to admit he needed to rest and someone had to look after him and make sure he didn’t kill himself.

Setting the remaining reports off to the side, (Y/N) stood from his couch and made her way over to her lover. Before he could react, (Y/N) leaned over and snatched the pen he held from his grasp, throwing it behind her so it could land randomly somewhere in the office.

“(Y/N)! What the hell?” Levi snapped, his voice raspy and filled with exhaustion.

“I’m tired of watching you work yourself to the bone. Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

Levi shook his head, “(Y/N), I’m fine.”

(Y/N) crossed her arms, “Like hell you are. Now, stop being stubborn and step away from the desk.”

“Don’t forget who you’re talking to, (Y/N),” Levi said darkly with a huff. “I am still your captain.”

“Well you won’t be anymore if you overwork yourself to death,” (Y/N) retorted. “And don’t forget who you’re talking to. I’m your girlfriend, which means it’s my job to worry about your wellbeing, especially if you refuse to do it yourself.”

Levi glared at her, but he was secretly touched by her sentiment. It had taken him a while to get used to the feeling of being loved and cared for, but once he had, he had grown greedy for it. He never showed it, still uncomfortable at the idea of being vulnerable around others, even his own lover, but he would always love how she doted on him, how she made him feel like he was worth something. That if he died, he wouldn’t just be mourned because humanity had lost its strongest soldier. He would be missed, remembered for the man he was rather than just how society had painted him to be. His eyes roved over her usually kind face, now twisted into a frown as she glared right back at him, refusing to back down without getting him the rest he needed. He honestly didn’t know why he was being so stubborn, he knew she was right, but he still struggled to accept her help, almost feeling weak for succumbing to something as trivial as a migraine.

As if she could read his mind, her gaze softened and she let out a gentle sigh. Moving around his desk to stand behind him, she leaned down and laid her hands on his shoulders, squeezing and massaging the muscles with her firm fingers. Levi was embarrassed by how quickly he reacted to her touch, immediately leaning back into her grip. His head lolled against the back of his chair and his eyes closed in bliss, temporarily ignoring the blistering pain in his head.

“Feel good?”

Levi hummed.

“See? Accepting help doesn’t make you any less of a man. Getting the rest and relaxation your body needs doesn’t make you weak by any means. Everyone needs the proper energy to take care of themselves, you especially. You’re too important to lose, especially to something as pointless as self neglect. So please stop working tonight, for me.”

Levi was silent for a moment, fighting with himself over the urge to finish his work anyway or fall victim once again to your undeniable charms as well as the insistent demands of his own body. Just as he was about to open his mouth, ready to attempt one last refute, a fresh wave of pain washed over him, making him gasp. A hand flew to his head, his teeth gritted in pain as his very skull seemed to throb. Through the haze, he vaguely felt (Y/N)’s hands tighten on his shoulders and knew there was no way he was going to get out of this. Once she had made up her mind about something, there was no changing it.

For once, Levi didn’t fight it when (Y/N) guided him to stand from his chair, biting his tongue to keep from gasping in pain as the sudden movement made his head split. He stumbled and started to fall, only to be caught by his lover, the strong woman bearing his entire weight as if he were nothing but a feather. A light blush made its way to his cheeks despite the pain that was starting to make his vision blur. He  knew he shouldn’t be shocked, she was in his Special Operations squad for a reason, but she never failed to impress him with her unexpected strength. (Y/N) walked slowly and carefully, making sure to avoid jostling him as she made her way to his bedroom. Nudging the door open, (Y/N) picked her way over to his bedside and pulled the sheets back before gently easing him onto the mattress, ignoring his protests when she began stripping him of his uniform.

His blush got a little darker as she worked on removing his clothes. Their relationship wasn’t new, but it hadn’t been very long either, and they still hadn’t crossed the boundary of physical intimacy yet. He knew she had no ill intent, but it still didn’t stop him from feeling relatively shy at the thought of her seeing him without his uniform.

(Y/N) felt butterflies in her stomach with each article she removed, but she shoved down her embarrassment and awe at his breathtaking form and focused on making him as comfortable as possible. She stopped once he was finally stripped to his boxers and neatly folded his uniform to place on the lone chair in the corner of his room, knowing it would bother him all night if it was thrown around half-hazardly.

Levi’s soft groan of pain brought her back to his bedside, and she quickly shimmied the blankets out from under his legs so she could throw them over his body, taking the extra time to tuck him in as comfortably as possible. As soon as he was nestled beneath the soft blankets, (Y/N) moved to his bathroom to get him some water, holding the glass to his lips for a few sips to help lessen some of the pressure in his head. Finally, she left to grab a small bucket to place beside him just in case he had to vomit in the middle of the night, knowing it might be difficult for him to reach the bathroom if he was dizzy and disoriented.

Placing her hands on her hips, (Y/N) surveyed her work, nodding once she was satisfied with his set up. Flashing him a sweet smile, (Y/N) turned for his bedroom door, her eyes soft and full of love as she watched him.

“Goodnight, Levi, I hope you feel better,” She said, opening the door and stepping through it.

“(Y/N).”

(Y/N) paused, her hand on the edge of the door as she peered back around to look at him, “Yes?”

“Stay with me. Please?” Levi asked, the blush on his cheeks getting even darker as he averted his gaze.

(Y/N)’s eyes widened in shock. She and Levi had been dating for nearly six months and yet he had never asked her something like this. She knew they were going at a slow pace, she knew Levi struggled with expressing his emotions, but she had always been content to go at whatever pace he was comfortable with, knowing he was still very new to the idea of a relationship. It had taken him several weeks for him to even get to the point of treating her differently than the other soldiers on his squad. 

She had never doubted his love for her, even when her friends had seemed skeptical in the beginning. She could see it in his eyes, but it had taken him a long time to be able to express those hidden feelings physically and vocally. She didn’t mind, she was fine with being patient and had waited for him to come to her, allowing him to have the time he needed to find his words and indulge in discovering his own love language. It was fun in a way, a little adventure between the two of them. It made every new sign of affection from him mean so much more than normal; every head pat, every kiss, every hug, making her feel as if she had just conquered the world.

It was because of those experiences that she was able to understand the importance of this moment. Her shy, reclusive, severely touch-starved boyfriend asking her to share his bed with him, exposing that vulnerability to her, albeit innocently, was a huge step in a new direction for him.

The thought made her nervous, not wanting to impose on his personal space or make him uncomfortable with her, but it also filled her with immense pride. He trusted her and only her to be around him when he was at his most vulnerable.

Swallowing her anxiety, (Y/N) nodded and shut the door again. Picking her way across the room, she quietly maneuvered her way to his bedside and slid beneath the covers beside him, trying to make as little noise and movement as possible to avoid causing more pain to his head.

Levi grunted a little as he shifted onto his side, facing away from her while she reached over to the bedside table to diffuse the lantern flame, bathing the room in darkness. Levi felt (Y/N) shift until she was laying on her side, facing his broad back, the covers pulled up to her shoulders.

“Goodnight Levi,” (Y/N) murmured.

“Mmm, goodnight,” Levi muttered, the pain in his head coupled with her soothing presence making him drowsier than normal.

(Y/N) smiled when she felt Levi fall asleep, his light snores and gentle breathing filling the otherwise silent air. She was glad he was finally getting some rest, but she knew she would be up for a while. She had had insomnia for as long as she could remember and knew it would be a long time before her brain would shut up long enough for her to get some rest. It was that shared trait between her and the Captain that had allowed her to get close to him in the first place, late night talks with tea leading to moonlit confessions on the roof of their headquarters.

(Y/N)’s smile widened at the memory, and how uncharacteristically nervous the normally stoic Captain had been when he had turned to her that fateful night and practically spat his feelings at her. She knew how hard it had been for him to admit them to her, and she had a small inclination to say that Erwin and Hanji may have been the ones to force him to do it, but that just made the memory all the more special to her. It showed her that he really did care for her, that he was willing to lower his carefully structured walls and bare his battered heart for her alone. It was why it didn’t bother her that he didn’t shower her with compliments. It was why she was never disheartened by his lack of physical or vocal affection. 

She’d be lying if she claimed she didn’t get a little lonely sometimes, and she couldn’t say she didn’t sometimes wish he could call her beautiful without hesitation, but she didn’t let it get to her. She loved him, and she knew he  loved her, so she’d wait for however long it took for him to grow comfortable around her, even if that meant she had to reel back her own feelings for a while.

Closing her eyes, (Y/N) was trying to coax sleep to take her when a sudden quiet murmur made her open them again. She waited, wondering if she had imagined the noise, when she suddenly heard it again. It was soft, and very quiet, but it was no doubt the voice of her lover, muttering something. She knew there was no way he was talking to her, he would’ve spoken louder than that if he was. 

The thought made her stifle a surprised giggle as she suddenly realized that Levi was talking in his sleep. She knew he’d be embarrassed if he found out she was listening, but she couldn’t help herself, her ears straining to try to catch some of the words. Silence settled over the room once more for a moment, nothing but the distant sound of the wind blowing outside filling the air, but soon enough, the murmurs started back up again, more recognizable words spilling from his lips the longer he talked to himself.

“No…, that’s not…mmm.”

“S-Stop that!”

“Mmph, no… I’m not...”

(Y/N) stifled another laugh as Levi started getting feisty in his sleep, turning to face her with a slight frown marring his features. His eyes were still firmly shut, confirming that he was indeed sleep talking, but the argument he was having with some unknown person in his head seemed to only be getting more intense.

“That’s not true!” Levi suddenly shouted, his voice raspy and muffled by his pillow.

“What’s not true, Levi?” (Y/N) whispered, deciding to tease him a bit. She knew he would probably be annoyed later, but this was a once in a lifetime opportunity, she wasn’t about to pass it up.

“That’s not true.” Levi said again, his voice lowering in volume but hardening in tone, “Of course I show affection!”

(Y/N) brought a hand to her mouth and bit her knuckle, trying to keep her giggles from waking him up, “Oh, really? When do you usually show affection?”

Levi’s frown deepened and his jaw tightened, “I show affection when I’m with (Y/N).”

(Y/N) blinked, not expecting her name to come up in this midnight conversation. Lowering her hand from her lips, (Y/N) sat up to rest on her elbows, her eyes sparkling as she looked down at her sleeping lover.

“How do you show (Y/N) affection?” she asked, curious to see what he would say.

Levi let out a quiet, defeated sigh, his frown disappearing into an expression that looked unexpectedly like guilt.

“Listen, Hanji, I…” Levi trailed off for a while, the air thick with (Y/N)’s curiosity. So, it was Hanji he was talking to in whatever dream he was having. The thought spiked her curiosity even further, making her heart pound in her chest. It wasn’t uncommon that Levi would be annoyed with Hanji, so the argument at the beginning of his dream made sense, but he almost never talked about his relationship with anyone but Erwin, not trusting the energetic scientist to keep from teasing him and spreading rumors about them. She knew they were together of course, that was impossible to hide from her, but he always denied her details whenever she asked.

“Shit… I… I can’t believe I’m about to do this…” Levi muttered, a slight scowl reappearing on his features.

“Do what?” (Y/N) whispered.

Levi took a deep breath, his fingers curling around the edge of the sheets to squeeze in his fist, as if he was being forced to do something unpleasant, “Hanji, I need your help.”

(Y/N) had to fight to hold back a genuinely shocked gasp. Even when he was just dreaming, she had never imagined in her entire life that she would hear that sentence come out of his mouth. She suddenly wondered if she was the one dreaming, and this was just some elaborate scene her brain had made up.

“Um, sure, Levi, what do you need help with?”

A deep breath rattled from the depths of his chest, “How do I... show (Y/N) proper affection?”

“What do you mean?” (Y/N) asked breathlessly.

Levi grunted in his sleep, his knees rising beneath the sheets to curl against his stomach. “Do I really have to explain it, Hanji?”

“Yes.”

“Fine, you idiot,” Levi grumbled, “I just… I just don’t know how to show her how much she means to me. I’m so fucking lucky to have her. She’s been so patient, so amazing, never complaining about my inability to be romantic, but I’m tired of being unable to be there for her. I’m tired of looking around at the other couples around us and seeing how loving they are, only to know that I can’t do the same for her. I’ve had enough of treating her like a normal cadet on my squad. She deserves so much more than that, she is so much more than that. She shows me every single day that I am loved and cared for, and it makes me sick that I struggle to do the same.”

(Y/N) had her hand back over her mouth again, this time to stifle her sobs instead of her chuckles. Her eyes were lined with silver as she gazed down at the love of her life, her heart thundering pleasantly in her chest. While it was true that she had never had a problem with waiting for him to get more comfortable with her, she couldn’t deny the feelings of elation she was feeling with every word that poured from his mouth. It didn’t matter that he was asleep, it didn’t matter that he didn’t even know he was talking to her. All that mattered was that he was finally saying the things she had secretly burned to hear for months.

Levi sighed, “I just love her so damn much. She’s the woman of my dreams, and I don’t think I can go one more day without her knowing that…”

Swallowing the sob that threatened to crawl past her lips, (Y/N) brushed his raven bangs to the side and leaned down to give him a sweet kiss on the forehead.

“Believe me, Levi. She knows.”

The small smile that appeared on his face made it impossible for (Y/N) to hold her tears back this time, the warm, salty liquid sliding down her cheeks to land with soft taps on her pillow. Despite the fact that his eyes were still closed, (Y/N) gave him a watery smile of her own and reached over to wrap an arm around his waist, pulling herself closer to his warm chest and curling into his body.

“I love you too, Levi,” she murmured before closing her eyes, the smile still on her face as she fell asleep easily for the first time in years.

____________________

Levi could feel himself slowly being dragged back into consciousness, but for the first time since he was a little boy, he didn’t want to wake up to the slightly more bearable hell of the day. Usually, what little sleep he got was riddled with nightmares, screams of his comrades as they either begged him to save them or blamed him for their early deaths. He was usually plagued with dark, bloody thoughts and visuals that made him wake in a cold sweat, his stomach swirling so violently he was occasionally reduced to emptying the remnants of his dinner in the middle of the night. He never enjoyed being tired or facing the titans day after day, but at least the real world kept him busy with training and paperwork, keeping his demons at bay.

But today felt different. He felt warm, comfortable, as if the sun’s rays were cuddling him in a warm nest. He felt content and unafraid of closing his eyes for the first time in years. A part of him was suspicious of the change, tempted to open his eyes and find out what was making him feel so comfortable, but the bigger part of him didn’t want to leave this unexpected bliss so soon, afraid that opening his eyes would chase away the feeling before he could truly relish in it.

He sighed through his nose, nuzzling his pillow in an attempt to coax his mind back into the warm embrace of sleep when a sudden movement against his bare chest made his eyes snap open, ready to rip someone to shreds. His stinging words immediately died on his tongue when his silver gaze snapped to the (h/c) haired lump nestled against his skin. Ah, that explained why he had slept so well, even with a migraine, which had thankfully disappeared overnight.

Levi couldn’t help the smile that curled at the edges of his lips, the look in his eyes softening as he watched his love sleep against him. An innocent, giddy sense of wonder filled him at the sight of her, his heart pounding in his chest. He had never had a woman fall asleep against him before, many people finding him too cold and standoffish to find comfort in him. But here she was, the most gorgeous woman in the world, cuddled up against him as if he were a warm pillow, her hair splayed out over his chest like tangled silk.

She was so fucking beautiful. He couldn’t get her out of his head. The past few months had been the best he had ever had, his life now full of love and happiness and soft laughter. As he stared at her, his heart about to burst out of his chest, Levi couldn’t help but reach out to her, his fingers brushing her cheeks ever so softly, making his skin tingle with how soft she was.

His hand immediately drew back when she scrunched her nose cutely, her eyes squeezing shut as her mouth opened in a wide yawn. A part of him felt sorry for waking her, but as she opened her glittering (e/c) eyes to look up at him, the other part of him felt more satisfied at seeing her cute expression.

“Good morning,” (Y/N) mumbled, her sleepy, raspy voice sending a jolt of something electric down his spine.

“Morning,” Levi said, unaware that his own deep, husky morning voice was making (Y/N)’s stomach flutter with early morning butterflies.

“Sleep well?” (Y/N) asked.

“Surprisingly, yes,” Levi said, moving his arms from around her body so he could stretch them above his head with a satisfying crack.

“It sure sounded like it.”

Her comment made him pause and glance at her, the mischievous look in her eye making a wave of nervousness course through him.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, nothing,” (Y/N) purred, causing his anxiety to spike, “I was just unaware that you talk in your sleep.”

Levi froze. He talked in his sleep!? He didn’t know he did that! He supposed it was normal for him to not remember the event, and he had never slept beside another person in his life, aside from his mother when he was a toddler, so it made sense that he had been unaware of this unexpected habit, but that didn’t erase the anxiety that swirled in his gut.

“O-Oh?” Levi asked softly, cursing his stutter.

“Mm hm,” (Y/N) said, her smile only widening as she watched his reaction, her eyes glittering playfully.

“Um, what did I say? It better not have been something stupid,” Levi muttered, trying to fight the blush that threatened to rise to his cheeks. He almost didn’t want to know, but with the way she was smiling at him, it looked as if he had said some revealing things.

“Well, you were arguing with Hanji for most of it,” (Y/N) said, watching with a deviant smile as her boyfriend relaxed, an obvious expression of relief on his face.

“Tch, I do that when I’m awake, idiot.”

“You also said you were head over heels in love with Eren Jaeger.”

(Y/N) couldn’t hold back her laugh when Levi started choking on his own breath, his sharp inhale of shock getting caught in his throat.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” (Y/N) said with a cackle, smirking even more at the dirty glare he threw her as he coughed, “It was a joke, I promise!”

“Fucking hell, brat…” Levi muttered, covering his face with his arm.

“You did call me the woman of your dreams, though,” (Y/N) said quietly once her giggles had subsided, a light blush dusting her cheeks despite herself as she recalled the wonderful memory.

Levi didn’t choke this time, but his eyes did go wide, his lips parting in shock. He knew she was being serious. Immediately, Levi was filled with a confusing blend of joy and horror, happiness that he had finally gotten the chance to tell her his true feelings about her, even in sleep, and horror that she had found out in the way she did, while he was unconscious and having an argument with Four Eyes about god knows what. Levi couldn’t fight the blush that rose to his cheeks, his skin stained red as embarrassment washed over him.

He didn’t know what to say. He was floundering, trying to think of something, anything to either confirm his sentiment or try to divert the conversation, but nothing was coming to mind. His brain was blank, nothing but the pounding of his heartbeat in his ears overwhelming his senses. Suddenly, a soft hand grasped his wrist, gently tugging on his arm until he had removed it from covering the silver eyes she loved so much. Leaning over him, her eyes were glazed with unshed tears as she locked her gaze with his, showing him all of the emotions she couldn’t put into words before leaning down to kiss him.

He unintentionally let out a groan when her lips met his, his tongue immediately reaching out to dance with hers as they tasted each other, slow and sweet and loving. When they finally parted, both of them gasping for breath and smiling as if they had just found the way to world peace, Levi saw that a few tears had escaped to stain (Y/N)’s cheeks.

“I love you, Levi Ackerman. I love you for you and all of your little quirks, and I always will.”

Levi felt himself get choked up, but he swallowed past the lump in his throat, focused on making the goddess in his arms feel the same way she made him feel.

“I l-love you too, (Y/N), y-you really are the woman of my d-dreams.”

Levi hated that he stuttered, but he let out a sigh of relief as he finally managed to push the words past his lips. (Y/N) choked out a joyful sob as pride filled her chest like a roaring lion, making her skin glow as if she were something from a fairytale, taking Levi’s breath away. Sitting up, Levi met her half way for another soul-searing kiss, his heart calling out her name as he allowed himself to relax with the kiss, melting into her affection as if he were dipping into a warm sauna, his heart throbbing for the woman who was his entire world.

[digitalstowaway]

No Winners: Chapter Three (Mia & Miles AU)

Read on AO3 | After failing to win a guilty verdict at his first trial, Edgeworth is denounced as von Karma's protege. Mia finds him, alone and traumatized, and decides that befriending him is like picking up a lost, wounded puppy on the side of the road. But it turns out they're connected in more ways than Terry Fawles' death. 

--

It was Friday afternoon by the time Lana knocked on Miles’ front door, holding a thermos of soup and smiling. 

Miles stood in his doorway, squinting at her. He wore his pajamas still—a comfortable set of flannel bottoms and a large t-shirt that hung off of his scrawny frame—and his hair was ruffled and messy. Lana could see how it stuck up in the back while the fringe had become frizzy and laid flat against his face. 

“I thought I’d check up on you,” Lana said. “And bring you soup.” 

“That was… thoughtful.” His voice was hoarse, and it sounded like he strained to get the few words out.

He would have looked adorable if there wasn’t a worrying flush to his face and glassiness over his eyes. But he did look younger than Lana had ever seen him. And smaller. If Lana didn’t know any better, she would have assumed he was a teenager taking a day off school. 

She just had to take care of him. She couldn’t leave a sick child home alone. 

“Mind if I come in?” 

Without waiting for an answer, Lana pushed past him and was walking into the house. His home was cute but definitely belonged to a 20-year-old boy. There was hardly any decor, and all of the curtains were drawn shut—though, the latter could have been due to the poor thing looking like he had just crawled out of bed—leaving the rooms to be dark and stuffy. The kitchen was bare, most notably. The only items on the countertops were an electric kettle and decorative containers that Lana suspected held nothing in them.

“May I ask what you’re doing?” Miles asked, standing behind her as she unscrewed the top of the thermos. 

“If you don’t eat the soup now, it’ll get cold.” 

If I don’t watch you eat right now, I don’t think you’ll eat at all. 

“I’m capable of taking care of myself.” 

“Sometimes it doesn’t matter if you’re capable of it or not, it’s just nice to have someone with you.” 

She began rifling through his cabinets. She was happy to see full sets of plates and bowls and cups. She wasn’t very happy to see, though, the lack of food on his shelves. 

She motioned for him to sit at his island. He did, looking like he was obeying the command of a superior. 

“I can make you tea as well,” Lana said, pouring out the soup in front of him. 

“Are you always in the habit of inviting yourself into people’s homes and invading their kitchens?” 

“I’ve been known to do so on occasion. But usually, people are more accepting of it than you because I’m also known to be a good cook.” 

Miles looked down at his soup. He stirred it, mixing up the vegetables and noodles in a whirlpool, and then set his spoon down.

He was tucked into himself, arms discreetly wrapped around his middle. Lana recognized the position as someone who couldn’t stomach the thought of food. 

And all of her forged maternal instincts that came from taking care of Ema rushed forward. Really, a 12-year-old girl and Miles Edgeworth couldn’t be too different to look after.  

Lana pressed her hand to his forehead. He allowed it, closing his eyes. 

“You’re really warm,” she sighed. “Do you have a thermometer?” 

Miles shook his head. Lana tutted. 

“Do you have cold medicine? Or any medicine?” 

“I have aspirin.” 

He was barely old enough to take aspirin. Lana prided herself on her knowledge of over-the-counter meds, and she clearly remembered the warning label on the back of the aspirin bottles to not give any to a person under 20. And god, the kid was just old enough to take such a simple drug? He was just entering the final stages of his coming of age?  

Lana had had a thought or two upon first meeting Miles that he was truly too young to be in a prosecutor’s office. Not for the uptight, snooty reasons her colleagues had. But because she couldn’t bear to think of the toll it would take on someone so young—so bent on perfection. 

“Do you have anything else?” she asked.

Miles shook his head. His eyebrows raised as if he was in trouble and scared of being scolded. It was always the subtle things that made Lana worry.  

“Well, lucky for you, I carry everything in my purse.” 

As she dug through her purse for her trusty bottle of acetaminophen, he coughed harshly into his elbow. It sounded worse than the night before. Like his lungs were trying to come up his throat. He winced and grimaced and struggled to breathe through it. Lana forgot about the pills and pulled out her phone. 

“I’m going to have Mia pick up a few things for you,” she said. 

“No—”

“Miles, you’re not going to get better like this. I’ll have her drop off something for your cough and a thermometer at some point today, okay?” 

“And what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to make sure you finish your soup.” 

—

By the time Mia arrived with a little bag from the pharmacy, Lana was waiting in the doorway with her phone in hand. She tried to smile when Mia met her, but she looked tired and worried. 

“Is he okay?” Mia asked. 

She tried not to care. People got the flu. People lived through the flu. Miles was going to be fine in a week. 

“He’s in rough shape,” Lana said with a shrug. “I’m sure he’ll be okay.” 

Mia passed her the bag with the highly specific requested items inside. Two types of cough syrup—antitussives and expectorants. Whatever those were. Lana had said a balance of both was necessary. A bottle of acetaminophen and another of ibuprofen. There was something about alternating between the two that wasn’t explained well over text. And cough drops (of which Mia had bought three kinds), acetaminophen, ibuprofen, and a thermometer. Any thermometer, Lana told Mia. 

The shopping list had been followed by a notification that Lana had sent Mia more than enough money to cover it all. There was a note in the money-sharing app that said and buy yourself something nice ;) xo Lana 

It had been a nice break from her anxiety-ridden text messages. Mia had bought herself a pack of gum and two lollipops.

“That’s for you,” Mia said when Lana pulled out the second lollipop. 

“How sweet,” Lana said. 

“Can I see him? I want to look at the scary prodigy all sick.” 

“Yeah, but be quiet. He just fell asleep.” Lana led her in. “Why do you want to see him like this?” 

“Blackmail. In case he ever tries pulling something, I’ll have a picture of him all snotty and gross.” 

“Mia, don’t take a picture of him.” 

“Why not?” 

“It’s mean. And isn’t your whole thing being anti-blackmail?” 

This was different. There would be no one to truly show the picture to. And Miles would catch on to that. The threat would be superficial and empty. 

The living room was dark and quiet, and Mia nearly missed Miles on the couch. He was curled up under a blanket, blending into the upholstery. But looking closer, Mia could see how pale his face was and the light layer of sweat covering his forehead.

Lana unpacked the pharmacy bag on the coffee table, careful to not make a sound to disturb Miles. But he woke himself up anyway, his uneasy breathing turning into a coughing fit. A hand emerged from the blanket, and a crumpled tissue in his fist was pressed to his mouth. His cough sounded awful. Mia nearly gagged in sympathy when she heard something deep in his lungs get stirred up. 

“Miles, Mia brought you some stuff,” Lana said. “Can you take your temperature real quick?” 

She assembled the thermometer. Mia had picked one up with multiple tips in hopes that the fancier it looked, the better it would work. 

Lana handed the thermometer over, and Miles laid it under his tongue. Mia was surprised by the lack of fuss he made, and he did close his eyes immediately and seemed close to sleep by the time the thermometer beeped. 

Lana slid it out of his mouth for him as a mother would. 

“103.5,” she read. 

Mia grimaced. That wasn’t good at all. 

Miles’ eyes opened, but they didn’t react to what Lana had said. Instead, they fell on Mia with a glare nastier than what he usually served. 

“What are you doing here?” he asked. 

“I delivered you half of a pharmacy,” Mia said, gesturing to the table. “Be grateful.” 

Lana interrupted them. “Miles, if your fever gets much higher, I think I’m going to take you to a hospital.” 

And the glare towards Mia immediately changed to a scared look to Lana. He shook his head. 

“I’m fine,” he said. 

“But if you get any worse, I think you’ll need help and there’s no clinics open at this hour. It doesn’t sound like you’re breathing very well, either.”

It didn’t. Every other intake of breath was raspy.  

Miles shook his head again. Lana sat next to him on the couch and brushed his hair back from his face. It was absolutely out of character to allow himself to be coddled in such a way. 

How childish he looked, Mia thought. He certainly always carried the air of a brat, but he had never looked so small. So helpless. So in need of a person like Lana Skye. 

“Only if you get worse, okay?” Lana said. “And Mia brought you a lot of medicine, so hopefully you start feeling better by tonight.” 

But Miles still looked scared, and Mia wondered what his damage was with hospitals. Not that anyone particularly liked having to go into hospitals. They were genuinely acknowledged as places no one ever wanted to be. 

“Let’s try to get this cough under control first,” Lana said and reached for one of the bottles of cough syrup. 

Hours passed, and Mia stayed. She felt bad about leaving Lana alone with the possibility of Miles needing to be taken to a hospital hanging in the air. 

It was also nice to see Lana mother Miles, waking him so often to take a different pill or to press the thermometer into his mouth one more time. When she wasn’t doting on the prosecutor, they snuck into the kitchen to talk like children. 

“He really needs a doctor,” Lana said. “But it’ll be best if I can get him to a clinic tomorrow instead of putting him through the emergency room tonight.”

 “You’d go with him?”

“Do you think he could drive himself?” 

Mia rocked against the countertop. “No.” 

“Then, I’d have to go with him. Or someone would have to go with him, and I don’t really see anyone else lining up to escort him.” 

Lana picked up her phone and, looking over her shoulder, Mia could see her texting Ema and then Damon Gant. One a reassuring conversation and the other a semi-desperate beg to ask anyone at all if they could do her a favor. 

“You know,” Mia said, “if someone needs to watch Ema tonight, I can do it.” 

Lana looked up, perhaps embarrassed that she had been caught in such weakness. “Would you?” 

“Unless you need someone to wrangle Miles to the hospital.” 

Lana smiled. “We’ll see which child needs the most supervision. But if I did ask you to watch Ema tonight, you wouldn’t mind?” 

“Of course not. I have nothing better to do.” 

“And if I asked you to help me get Miles to a hospital?” 

Mia tilted her head back. She had little reason to say no. “Sure.” 

— 

As the sun was finally setting, coughing turned to choking. 

Miles struggled to pull himself up. He rested on his elbows, his head bowed, coughing too hard to take in any fulfilling breaths. 

Lana tugged him up so that he was sitting against her. His shoulders heaved and with his coughs, small strings of bile spilled from his mouth. 

“Can you get towels please?” Lana asked Mia. 

Mia ran down the halls until she found a closet and stacks of towels. It was an unnecessarily large house for one kid. Mia had a one-bedroom apartment with barely enough room to accommodate Maya when she visited. And there was Miles living in a house with, if Mia counted right as she passed them, two bathrooms and a bedroom on the first floor alone. 

But she couldn’t be mad at him if his sleazy mentor gave him the money to buy the house. If anything, it was good for Miles to keep whatever that man had already given him. 

Mia grabbed all the hand towels and wash clothes she could, wetting a few down, and ran back to the sitting room where Lana was trying to keep Miles up. 

“It’s okay,” she was repeating, and Mia could hear Miles mumbling apologies as she handed over the towels. 

Lana got to work cleaning up his face and then his clothes. Miles’ thin hands were limp on his lap, only being moved by Lana to scrub at the bile that hand landed on his sweatpants. 

“Do you want to change?” Lana asked. 

Miles shook his head. He was usually so pristine, Mia was surprised he didn’t want a fresh pair of clothes. 

“Okay. We can lay back down for now.” Lana helped him shuffle around until he was lying back down. 

She covered him with his blanket again and left one of the damp cloths over his forehead. Mia stood awkwardly off to the side. 

“It’s getting kinda late,” Lana said. 

“If you want me to watch Ema now, I can,” she said.

“I don’t know. I think I should really get Miles to a hospital, but I think it’ll take at least the two of us to get him anywhere.” 

“Is there anyone else who can watch Ema?” 

Lana didn’t say anything. Mia didn’t know many people who could really be left alone with a child. Not any that could be called at the last minute. 

“What about Diego?” she asked. 

“Ema’s never met Diego before. I’ve barely met Diego.” 

“Yeah, but he’d probably be willing to stay with her for the night. He mentioned to me once that he likes kids.” 

“Miles is a kid, and he doesn’t seem to like him.” 

“Miles is 20.” 

“I’m 20,” Miles agreed sleepily. 

“And Ema isn’t Miles,” Mia said. “She’s… less difficult.” 

“Okay,” Lana said. “If he doesn’t mind, tell him I can give him our house key if he meets us here and helps us get Miles into my car.” 

Mia didn’t hesitate to grab her phone and begin texting Diego, her newest message harshly juxtaposing her previous, half-flirty ones. Miles whined next to her, telling Lana that he would be okay. That he didn’t need to go anywhere. And Lana gently cooed to him that it would be alright. He needed more help than she could give him, and she and Mia would stay with him. 

Mia didn’t remember when she volunteered to stay with Miles in the hospital. She thought that she would be there long enough to get him inside and moved on from the waiting room before going back to her own apartment. She watched Miles cough into his pillow and Lana brush his damp hair back from his forehead and knew that she was well past the point of any further negotiations.

[allen-desu]

Intrigue: A Canute and Thorfinn Character Study

Canute had learned to do one thing above all else- discern men. It was simple. Either he should be wary of a man or not, and of those he was wary of, who should he make face with.

But then there was Thorfinn..

Very mild Thornute | Vulgar Language | Canon Compliant (Volume 3 specifically) | Spoiler Free

Brushing off my Tumblr to post this somewhere, best read on mobile.

-

Canute often found himself studying Thorfinn. In fact he was now, stealing glances of him while riding in a wagon through Wales. His nerves were getting the best of him and not wanting to think of signing a treaty without his father present, Canute instead tried to place Thorfinn to keep his mind occupied. The Prince found him to be a most intriguing character, and one that often eluded any solid characterization. It was egregiously annoying; for you see, growing up in the bloodbath of regal politics, Canute had learned to do one thing above all else- discern men. It was simple. Either he should be wary of a man or not, and of those he was wary of, who should he make face with. Granted, Canute had Ragnar, and therefore he never had to put this skill to a real test for his vassal always fought on his behalf, keeping the young Prince’s best interests in mind. Nevertheless, his cautious observation skills were more often than not proven correct as the time revealed untrustworthy men to Canute.

But then there was Thorfinn. There are always exceptions to any and every rule, but even that logic still couldn’t stick Thorfinn under a neat label inside the Prince’s mind. The boy was not like the men he traveled with. Yes, he did the dirty killing, but he did it in a way that oozed indifference. Thorfinn killed swiftly and acted as if each man was a simple stepping stone to the fight being over, for the killing to be over. While the others he traveled with had a sick enjoyment for the act. Thorfinn did not socialize with the Askeladd’s band. He did not share in their spoils, including that of food and drink. Instead the blond hunted his own food, collected his own water. Only rarely did he ever get what he needed from what was plundered. Those rare instances were either when it was offered to him while marching, or on late and loud evenings, while the rest of Askeladd’s band made themselves merry, Thorfinn would slip some goods from tables abandoned for the night.

So, no, Canute would not label him as part of the band. This conclusion was frustrating, for if Thorfinn was not one of Askeladd’s men, why was he one of Askeladd’s most trusted pawns? Perhaps part of the answer was in the word “pawn” itself, but Askeladd was a cautious man as well. So much so that Canute knew it would bode well for him to try and keep tabs on what the man was thinking. So what was his reasoning to keep Thorfinn- who literally wanted him dead for some unknown reason to the Prince- under his thumb. The young blond was skilled and dangerous to have around. How did Askeladd tame-

Ah.. perhaps that was it.

Thorfinn was like something wild, pacing in its cage and waiting for its chance to do something about its keeper and free itself from its confines. Tamed to compliance, but would still happily bite the hand. Something akin to a wolf perhaps.

Canute looked up from his thoughts over to Thorfinn who was leaning on the opposite side of the wagon, his gaze far off and his eyes hard. Feeling that the Prince was looking at him Thorfinn shot daggers at Canute . Seeing the dirty teen do this with the image of a wolf in his mind nearly tempted Canute to chuckle and he swiftly hid his face from the other in case the temptation won him over. He could hear Thorfinn scoff and that was the end of the whole exchange. A lone wolf in an unfamiliar pack. The young Prince was satisfied with the description for the young warrior.

Canute was no longer satisfied. Thorfinn was his guard and, surprisingly, was taking the job seriously. He seemed not to care, was quick with sharp words at either Canute, Ragnar or Father Willibald. But on more than one occasion, the Prince would catch a small glimpse of Thorfinn nearby, seemingly disinterested, but close enough to come to aid or rescue. Any time he was not lurking and couldn’t be seen or found, a few hours or less after the fact, the shorter blond could be seen emerging from the tree line, a rabbit or more hanging over his shoulder.

In fact, this had just happened and Ragnar had convinced Thorfinn to add the rabbit to the meal he and the Prince were making.

“Highness!” Ragnar had announced upon entry. “We have beans, cabbage and a hare!” As he listed the items, Thorfinn had walked in behind him and closed the door to the cold. Canute was surprised to see him, tensed and annoyed, looking very out of place in the little home they had… procured.

“ A hare?” The Prince asked, ignoring how his own bout of tension was threatening to rise in his shoulders.

“Thorfinn caught it.” Obviously. “We’ll put it in the soup.”

“Well done.” As if Thorfinn needed or wanted praise for a deed he probably found to be child’s play. “Bleed it and skin it so we can wash the meat.” Truth be told, Canute wasn’t expecting for Thorfinn to just comply without some remark, and he surely wasn’t expecting Ragnar to take the rabbit from Thorfinn to do the task instead. It was jarring seeing his caretaker grab the rabbit from him, as if he had just seen Ragnar take a kill from a wild animal. At least that’s what flashed through his mind when the moment started. However, as it happened in real time, Thorfinn let his catch be taken and he was left to simply stand, awkward and unsure.

Canute, stirring the broth in progress mindlessly as he watched on, couldn’t help but consider Thorfinn for a long moment. This boy in front of him was no lone and wild wolf. The moment his gaze was felt, however, the creature came back and Thorfinn found a spot off to the side against the wall that he could sit at and brood.

Once the soup was done and the table was set, Canute and Ragnar somehow coaxed Thorfinn to join them at the table. The tension in the boy’s shoulders was palpable and Canute couldn’t help but take notice of it, trying to further categorize it. When Thorfinn actually acknowledged the meal in front of him, however, his demeanor changed. It was quick, merely a fraction of a second, but the Prince saw it- tried to burn the image into his brain to try and decipher later.

Ragnar’s compliments of the meal they prepared took Canute’s attention and he took this as an opportunity. Agreeing with Ragnar, “The rabbit made it work.” He looked to Thorfinn, “I’m tired of salted meat. You have my thanks.” There was no answer from the shorter blond, he just continued to look at their spread on the table and look lost. Almost as if he didn’t think it was real. The thought threatened to furrow the Prince’s brow. It made him realize yet again, Thorfinn was not amicable with the men he traveled with. When was the last time anyone showed this young man any kindness? When was the last time Thorfinn had the simple pleasure to share a meal with someone at all?

“What’s wrong?” Canute spoke, aiming to pull Thorfinn out of his stupor. “Eat up, you caught the rabbit.”

It seemed to do the trick, for Thorfinn picked up his bowl and spoon and tentatively took a bite. The look on his face, before it was hidden behind matted bangs, was one Canute would very much like to see again. Anger and/or indifference seemed to have a constant monopoly on Thorfinn’s features, but that one, quick moment of.. surprise? Or maybe he was just pleased with the taste of his meal. Either way, the emotion fit his face better, let the ridges between his brows smooth out for a second. Genuine, that was the word. Thorfinn seemed more genuine in that one instant than he did the entirety of the time that Canute had known him thus far.

“Pretty good isn’t it?” Ragnar mused, though the Prince couldn’t quite tell if he had also caught the glimpse of surprise from Thorfinn, or if he was just rearing up to dote and brag on Canute’s cooking talents. “Catch us a deer next, and we’ll really have a meal!”

“...” Not a real reply, but the young guard had acknowledged Ragnar. Thorfinn continued to eat, and almost absentmindedly, “I thought you noble types had everything cooked for you.” It wasn’t a question, a simple statement of thought, but Canute thought he would answer it anyways.

“I enjoy doing it.” The Prince began, “I don’t normally get the chance. Only Ragnar knows that I can cook.” A pause and Canute laid his spoon down in his bowl for a moment. “Do not tell anyone of this.” Thorfinns reply was instant and disinterested.

“Why not?” Followed by, “Who cares?”

Not sure what persuaded him to do so, but Canute began to tell Thorfinn of his father’s, the King, displeasure in the fact that he liked to cook- that it was a frivolous and useless skill to have. Though the shorter blond’s face was as neutral as ever, he did slow in his eating to listen, that alone made Canute feel as he wasn’t wasting his breath, that it was worth having someone other than Ragnar know of how intensely inadequate his father found him to be. Ragnar seemed to be confused at his tellings though. He was obviously not expecting his Highness to share. Giving his Highness an odd look he decided to try and lighten the Prince’s mood, though Canute wasn’t in need of it.

The two of them held their own conversation from there on out, speaking about different dishes Canute could prepare, or what Ragnar could teach him about new dishes he had yet to prepare. The mood in their little borrowed house was light. It was familial in its own way. The young Prince would glance over to Thorfinn every once in a while and was pleased to see that the ever present knot of tension in his shoulders was slowly becoming unraveled. The guard ate and listened.

Something in Thorfinn snapped and Canute shuddered because of it.

What happened in the next instant was too fast for Canute to follow in real time. Thorfinn had gotten up, more like sprung up, and was immediately at the door one of his signature knives pointed at someone’s throat. Had the man had worse reflexes, he would have impaled himself on Thorfinn’s steel. Ragnar was next in the initiative, questioning both Thorfinn and the man on what was going on.

“Agh- I’m on your side Thorfinn!” So it was one of Askeladd’s men. “I’m just bringing a message…” Despite this, it still took a long moment for Thorfinn to remove his knife from the man’s throat. Ragnar took the lead from there and was questioning the newcomer on Canute’s behalf, but Canute himself was still trained on his short bodyguard.

Thorfinn was still tense, still alert and ready to strike, but his initial instinct was slowly recoiling back into its original state. It was interesting to watch the slow movement of his shoulders and back muscles through threadbare clothing. However, Canute’s gaze was felt and Thorfinn shot him a look that could kill. Oddly enough the look from the dirtied blond softened a little, as if he was reminded that Canute was still there and his presence wasn’t something he should be afraid of. The thought struck the Prince as oddly satisfying. He wasn’t able to really dive further into that train of thought, however, for the man brought news of the English advancing on the hideout they had procured. Canute’s shock couldn’t beat out Ragnar’s rage. Heated words about Askeladd and his poor decisions were spoken, and then, just as suddenly as they had come, the man was gone, Ragnar following after him.

The little house was now too still and too quiet until it was broken by Thorfinn huffing through his nose.

“Can’t even manage to close the damn door on their way out.” He muttered, moving to do just that so the winter’s day wouldn’t try and suck any more of the hard earned heat out of the house. With the door closed Thorfinn relocated to his new post beside the door, leaning against the wall. The Prince watched him do this and suddenly Thorfinn was glaring at him again. “Have I fucking done something?” The shorter teen hissed.

“What?” Such an elegant reply, good job Canute. Not that Thorfinn gave two shits about that kind of thing.

“You’ve been staring. Like a lot.” Thorfinn turned to fully face Canute, leaning only one shoulder on the wall. “Still mad, Princess?” A smirk. Of course that’s what he would call him, but Canute realized he was talking about their squabble in the wagons the other day. “I don’t give a rat’s ass who your father is or who’s womb you crawled out of.”

“Still have the vulgar audacity to speak to me like that, but no.” Thorfinn raised a brow at him. “It was more of a shock than anything else. I don’t particularly mind that you speak so blatantly.” No matter how sharp the words, unfortunately. It seemed that the shorter blond did not have a reply for that and instead just refocused his attention to the fire instead. Canute also took this moment to recollect his thoughts. He knew Ragnar was angry, he warned Askeladd about the very problem at hand. Askeladd had paid him no mind at all. Still, the Prince was worried. Ragnar had left in the heat of the moment to a battlefield only to argue with the man leading the defensive charge. Not to mention, his soup would be cold by the time he came back. What a waste.

Perhaps the moments before Ragnar’s return wouldn’t entirely be a waste, though. Not if Canute played his cards right. He wanted to understand Thorfinn. Never before had he met someone that has proven themselves to be so complicated, especially since at first Canute thought him to be a simple brute among other simple brutes. Why was Thorfinn here, why was he in, but yet not considered, part of Askeladd’s band? What happened to him? The short blond hates the man, yet follows him around the country and overseas. He even follows some insane orders with the promise of some kind of reward.

Thorfinn let out an aggravated noise and was suddenly leaning over Canute, hands flat on the table with a bang.

“You’re doing it again. Quit.” The shorter teen growled. Canute blinked owlishly at him. What? Oh, had he been staring again? Nevertheless he continued to study Thorfinn, which was quickly making his guard’s blood boil. Then Canute stood forcing the other teen to stand back a bit and look up at him. He knew that Thorfinn was shorter than him, but it was still amusing to actually see it. Thorfinn carried himself to be larger, more intimidating. Said young guard was now glaring up at Canute through his dirtied bangs. “What?” He hissed.

“You confuse me, Thorfinn.” The Prince replied. Thorfinn also had a fair amount of confusion mixed in with his usual anger, and that fact pleased Canute a bit- at least the feeling was mutual. “I’ve just been trying to figure you out.”

“Well stop.”

“No, I shan’t” Canute replied swiftly. Thorfinn was prone to argue, but nothing came out. The Prince could take a guess as to what he was thinking. That the person in front of him was the same as the shy and bumbling Prince that was showcased and dragged around all of England these past few weeks? Yes and no. There was nothing political in this task, Canute had nothing to fear if he took a misstep. No repercussions. This was a purely selfish motive in which he had no problems pursuing as long as it was kept private. “Also it’s not that I can not, it’s that I will not”

“You…” Thorfinn struggled. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“To you, perhaps not.” This reply really made Thorfinn angry, Canute could see it in the way his whole body tensed, gearing up to fight. Part of him wanted to see if his guard would actually hit him. However, before either of them could think through what they wanted to do next, for some odd reason, Canute had moved and held Thorfinn’s face in his hands. Both teens were now wide eyed and tense. Why did he do that? When did he do that? Just now? A moment ago?

Canute was the first to settle down from the shock of his own actions, and instead of pulling away like he thought he would, the Prince settled into the position. He let his hands feel the warmth of Thorfinn’s jaw and slid down to where his thumbs were still on the other blond’s face, but the rest of his fingers curled delicately around his neck. He knew his hands must have been cold, he was prone to be, but the proof lies in the fact that Thorfinn’s skin puckered into bumps right before he shuddered just slightly.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Thorfinn asked, his voice surprisingly tame. He was definitely still angry and on edge, but thus far it seemed as if Canute was not in danger of being bitten by the wolf that accompanied Thorfinn’s anger.

“Indulging, just let me for a moment.” Canute replied softly, as if trying not to spook Thorfinn away.

“...the hell does that even mean?” The guard muttered in reply. Canute laughed lightly, amused.

“Don’t think on it too hard,Thorfinn.” No reply to that, but the dirtied teen in his hands didn’t pull away either. Good, that was good.

Now that Canute had somehow managed to get them into this situation, he took as much time as he damn well pleased to study the other boy. Not that he was naive enough to believe that staring at Thorfinn would somehow unlock his secrets, but he did think it would help. Thorfinn was a recluse. No one ever got too close to him and he would never let them, so the fact that Canute was quite literally in his personal space seemed like a major victory.

Thorfinn had hard light brown eyes, but if the fire flickered right they were more like unearthed amber or sweet honey. They were nothing like the Prince’s own eyes, a sky blue. The sky may be vast, but Thorfinn’s eyes were deep. What was that saying? The eyes were a window into the soul? Canute could readily believe that looking into Thorfinn’s.

Next Canute took note that, under all the dirt, Thorfinn was tired. He had coloration and lines on his skin that a boy of their age shouldn’t have. Did he ever sleep through the night? His guard was always up late and always up early, always seen at odd hours thinking about something far away... or a time long gone, perhaps? Beyond what dirt and sleepless bruising lay on his skin, was what lacked beneath it. Thorfinn was a genuine threat on the battlefield, how could someone so strong have such gaunt in his cheeks? He knew Thorfinn fended for himself, but from what he has seen, he does a rather good job at it. Granted, he doesn’t eat square meals. Canute thinks that just earlier was the first time he’s seen Thorfinn eat anything green, or not meat related. Still, a soldier's diet of salted meat and wine wouldn’t result in malnutrition. Was malnutrition why he was short? Just… Just how long had Thorfinn been taking care of himself? The men didn’t bat an eye at Thorfinn’s presence. In fact, while marching and the men told old stories, Thorfinn was in a good many of them. Years? Had it been years since Thorfinn had a meal like the one he had today?

“I don’t need your fucking pity.” Thorfinn’s voice startled the Prince. Was he making a face of some kind?

“I didn’t mean..”

“Save your breath, I don’t care.”

Canute thought it was best to not reply, so instead he wiped some dirt off of Thorfinn’s face with one of his thumbs. With a fresh bath, a sturdy brush, and some new clothes, Thorfinn could be considered handsome.

He wondered what Thorfinn was thinking. Was he actually trying to decipher Canute in turn or was he just waiting for the Prince to be done? Canute also wondered, truly, when was the last time Thorfinn was shown kindness? Affection? Perhaps he wasn’t a lone wolf at all, but something lost instead. When one finds themselves abandoned in one way or another, in an unfamiliar place, one must adapt. Did Thorfinn just adapt to killing? Fights because he has to? It was frustrating going through all these thoughts himself, but Canute knew for a fact that Thorfinn would not simply answer any questions that he asked.

Perhaps… Perhaps Canute could be the one to show him kindness? Maybe he could properly tame the wolf that was Thorfinn’s anger, and find the lost person it was protecting. Thorfinn was so hard to get close to though, even today he had been reluctant to simply share his rabbit and then a meal. So what could the Prince do? He thought of this and that, feeling Thorfinn’s pulse through the fingers on his neck. Absentmindedly he rubbed his thumbs in time with it, studying him. Again Thorfinn couldn’t suppress a shiver and again Canute was moving without thinking at all.

He had pressed their lips together. Why? Not even God above would know. Thorfinn’s lips were chapped, still and shocked against the Prince’s own, but he was warm. Unfairly warm and it seeped into Canute. He could stay this way for a long while if he was completely honest with himself, but one kiss was enough. A gesture of both kindness and affection that Thorfinn could seek out from him if he chose to do so if he ever needed to feel wanted. So Canute pulled away, but instead of the awkward moment he was expecting, strong hands pulled him back in at the hips. Thorfinn had leaned back up and continued the kiss.

The taller blond was not expecting this, but then again he was also not expecting to have kissed Thorfinn in the first place either. His pale hands slipped from Thorfinn’s face and neck and instead slid so Canute could rest his arms on his guard’s shoulders. The hands on his hips were most likely bruising him with how tight they held him, but that was part of what he liked about this moment. Thorfinn was holding him and kissing him like this was something he desperately needed. Canute returned its ferocity and leaned in, making Thorfinn crane his neck at an odd angle, and then ran his tongue over the shorter’s lips. Again this was something neither of them were expecting, not experienced enough to really know what they were doing at all to be honest.

However, surprisingly enough, Thorfinn had again let it happen, letting Canute test the waters. So he did. Canute pushed his tongue into the other blond’s mouth. He felt Thorfinn’s tongue with his own, the roof of his mouth and back of his teeth. It was oddly exhilarating, even more so when Thorfinn mimicked Canute and did the same to him.

As Thorfinn kissed him Canute moved them, pivoting them so Thorfinn was between him and the table. The shorter blond grunted when it happened and turned his head out of the kiss to look at their new position, to which the taller blond took as a chance to place kisses to Thorfinn’s jaw and neck.

“Don’t think that I’m just going to bend over like some paid whore.” Thorfinn muttered, his voice was a little deeper, thicker, Canute couldn’t help but like it, but also couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up from him.

“I wasn’t really planning on it.” He mused, resting his head in the crook of Thorfinn’s neck. Canute watched as Thorfinn reached for his low ponytail and played with the strands tentatively. It almost seemed as if he had been wanting to do so for a while but never had gotten the chance to do so until now. Canute kept that nice little thought in mind as he placed more kisses up Thorfinn’s neck, trailing back up to his mouth.

The two of them kissed some more, each exploring at their own paces. Canute also let his hands wander; Thorfinn was all muscle and bone and very thin. The prince knew that one day, if Thorfinn’s disinterest in his own health didn’t kill him first, that he would be properly strong, with healthy muscle, and a fuller face. At least that’s what he hoped for. Thorfinn did not explore the way Canute did, but his grip remained tight and would squeeze him whenever Canute did something he liked. At some point their hands inched a little higher.

The heat between them slowly, so very slowly, faded and they were back where they started, Canute cupping his face. After a few moments that stopped too.

“Did this ever happen?” Thorfinn asked, voice quiet. Canute blinked at him, it wouldn’t bode well for him if Thorfinn ever told anyone of their little venture, but he was honestly surprised that the other cared at all. But more than that, Canute was surprised to see that the anger that was seemingly permanent on Thorfinn’s features was gone. In its place was something the Prince could not identify, but he would burn the image in his brain. Hard eyes were gone, in its place was only honey and a fair amount of color in his cheeks.

Canute decided he would be the one to give Thorfinn the kindness he deserved. Even if it was just in small doses, seemingly meaningless gestures.

“No.” He replied, leaning down to press a kiss to Thorfinn’s cheek. “But it could happen again if you want.”

The shorter blond huffed and made a gesture for Canute to move. He did and Thorfinn moved towards the door. Canute had expected him to leave, but instead he had taken his previous makeshift post at the door. “Whatever, your Highness”

The Prince took his place back at the table, smiling to himself. That response certainly wasn’t a no. He had more thinking to do.

[child-of-hurin]

Dark Narn AU

Recently I mentioned I had some ideas for a Dark Narn AU and @outofangband  expressed curiosity, so I decided to copypaste my notes here :)

The reason this AU was conceived was that I wanted Túrin and Nienor to get buddy buddy with Gothmog and Glaurung…. Literally my motivation for this lmao.

WORD OF WARNING:

1. This is almost 3 pages long on Gdocs 😭 2. This is actually dark, so mind yourself. CW for mentions of nonconsent, manipulation, murder, slavery, the whole nine yards and, of course, incest.

And btw, this relies on my headcanon/understanding that there were mortal slaves in Angband as well as elves.

When teenage Húrin and Huor are cornered by orcs in Brethil, they are in a dense spot. Húrin stays behind to hold the orcs while Huor runs up the hill. Huor would never have left his brother behind, but it’s a mess and he doesn’t realize what happened until he’s being carried away by other soldiers/rescuers and screaming his lungs out for Húrin, who’s pulled back by the orcs and then taken captive to Angband.

There he undergoes some brainwashing by Melkor, who, true to the essence of their Narn interactions, sees he can profit more from corruption than from killing this agent. By this point Húrin is a teen and hasn’t met Turgon yet. He breaks eventually and becomes Melkor’s champion. 

We have Húrin, and now we need Morwen. To keep the chronology, I prefer having her be captured during a raid on Emeldir’s group of refugees, when they’re migrating west to escape the Battle of the Sudden Flame; that can also have Rian either being captured as well, or escaping and following canon and marrying Huor and mothering Tuor, which I prefer for this AU (also casts a shadow on them as… replacements for the true heirs, sort of! Both having dear family members, who are also the eldest and the legitimate heirs, captured by Morgoth). Either after his brainwashing is complete, or during it, she is given to Húrin to marry as a token of Melkor’s regard: Morwen the beauty, the heir of the House of Bëor, the only fitting consort for the heir to the house of Hador, etc. Túrin is born in 464.

Lalaith is born two years later, which is a weird year because that’s when Beren and Lúthien steal one of Melkor’s silms! Angband has never been more somber, but there is talk of hope among the slaves, of which Morwen hears some, as well as the name of Beren her kinsmen who she knows and loves. She’s fiercely proud of him. But then Húrin, who is head over hells smitten with her, but who’s still wary of her loyalties, casually mentions in bed at some point that Beren was killed by Carcharoth (a lie meant to shake her/destroy any hopes of rescue), and that despite the loss of the Silmaril, Melkor is somewhat satisfied that the whole ordeal ended up dividing the elven kingdoms further apart, and confides in her about some of the plans for the following war (Unnumbered Tears).

The very next day, Morwen kills Urwen. She knows how other female thralls fare, and she knows that as soon as Húrin is dead Melkor would have no more use for them. Like canon, better dead than a thrall. To her, killing Urwen is not only a mercy, but an act of love. I think Morwen was about to end her own life too, or maybe end Túrin’s, but they caught her before she did any more. Maybe she locked herself with her children in a bedroom, ready to off all of them, and someone intervened before she could.

This sends Húrin into a rage out of despair because he really dotes on Urwen no matter the AU, and Túrin takes it all pretty hard, as he adored his sister and feels betrayed and confused. Melkor ofc enjoys the opportunity to turn Húrin even more towards him, and encourages him to get another child from Morwen to make up for the one he lost, whether she wants it or not. 

In this AU Niënor is conceived (at least) nine months before the Unnumbered and not nine months later. During all the pregnancy Morwen is watched, to make sure she won’t do anything drastic. Túrin is one of the people keeping tabs on her. Morwen names her Niënor, lamentation, and instead of being offended, Húrin laughs and says it’s an appropriate name for a warrior that shall bring woe to her foes, who will lament upon seeing her. Morwen is forbidden to be alone with Niënor and they are closely watched; as a result, they aren’t very close in this hc, as opposed to canon.  Niënor grows up being reminded that her mother wants to kill her, never wanted to conceive her in the first place.

Both Túrin and Nienor have strong mommy issues. Túrin is always keeping Morwen company and they have a very similar temper, but he tries to keep his visits a secret from Nienor. Nienor loves Túrin enormously but confronts him when she learns he still visits Morwen; also I think she sees Morwen in Túrin a little, too, because they’re so similar. It drives her mad. There’s a lot going on here with sibling competition / possessiveness / jealousy; Nienor doesn’t want Túrin to get along with Morwen, against whom she has a big grudge; she also doesn’t like that Morwen gives to Túrin the love she has always denied Niënor (according to how Niënor perceives the situation). She wants Túrin to choose her but Túrin just evades the question or gets angry and they fight. 

I like the idea of Húrin heading the fight against mortals in the Unnumbered, and him and Huor meeting on the battlefield, and killing each other. 

Túrin is crazy about Nienor, though you wouldn’t guess it by looking. Not only they’re the only mortals around who are equals and thus relatable on any level, he projects a lot of his Urwen grief on her and is very protective and possessive. There’s a lot of unresolved tension that they don’t even acknowledge. When they’re together onlookers get a feeling like there isn’t space for anyone else - though Morwen is an always-felt presence and the only crack in their bond. Túrin is stoic and reserved and his canon obsession with fighting Melkor is changed into a type of family pride. Right now I think he’s really mad that Dor-Lómin was given to the Easterlings and his mistrust of Melkor grows. He’s also concerned with the hidden elf cities, especially Nargothrond and Doriath because of their ties to the Silmaril heist. 

In this AU Túrin (and Húrin before he dies) is buddies with Gothmog who is sort of a mentor to him, and Nienor has a great friendship with Glaurung, whom she rides on sometimes, maybe into battle. 

I had considered the idea of either Túrin or Nienor meeting Gwindor by accident on the woods and goading him and fooling him, following him until they got the path to Nargothrond, while the other sibling followed them from afar. One sibling goes into the town and the other comes with the army down on them, no need for bridges I guess. Or the bridge can be deliberate sabotage. Since I like Nienor riding Glaurung, it can be Túrin who goes in, as in canon - OTOH idk how good Túrin can be with deception no matter the AU, so maybe it is Nienor... though, really, is she any better? Also, would she have a voice in council? How sexist are they? Maybe if she got Gwindor’s ear somehow… idk, thoughts!

Anyway, Finduilas is captured and not killed, though I’m not sure how much better this is. Maybe both Túrin and Nienor take her for consort in a smoking hot, nonconsensual, incesty edain sandwich. 

I haven’t thought ahead of this yet, that’s all I have! They need to have a cool and tragic ending, though I’m still unsure how. I feel like they need to fall with Brethil, but then I’m unsure what happens. Also I really don’t want Túrin and Nienor to have a permanent falling out and dying hating each other, it’s not my thing. I feel like they need to die together, like in canon. 

Things to consider:

>> Tuor and Aerin as kin who are held captive. Do Túrin and Nienor know they exist and are there? If they do, how do they react?

>> Morwen + other mortal thralls, or maybe Morwen + having ELVISH thralls to serve her, which Melkor does to show Húrin how much he honors him bla bla. I love this concept.

>> Húrin and Gothmog banter, Gothmog warming up to the mortal once he sees him being an absolute savage in battle, Húrin and Gothmog competing to see who causes more havoc

>> Glaurung is super mean to Morwen once and that tickles Nienor so much she just gets attached to him. Nienor joking with Túrin that she rides a dragon (Glaurung) and he is ridden by one (the dragon helm of Dor-lómin)

>> Gurthang???? I think Túrin needs a black sword. I’m SUPER attached to the visuals of Nienor using an axe though.

[gingwrites]

Teething Time - ot7 vampire au

Yoongi, a recently turned vampire, is teething. Jimin and Jungkook are the only two home, but don't remember the signs of teething so they freak out, thinking something is wrong with Yoongi since vampires can't get sick.

aka

Baby vampire Yoongi is teething and not feeling well, with doting Jimin and Jungkook (after a small freakout).

“Come on, baby. Time to get up,” Jimin shook the younger vampire, but Yoongi wouldn’t budge. “Time to eat. I just drank your favorite, A positive!”

Yoongi let out a small whine and turned over to face Jimin, but didn’t get up. Prying one eye slightly open to glance at the other, Yoongi pouted, but held out his arms to signal that he wanted Jimin to pick him up and carry him to the kitchen for a feed. Yoongi had always had trouble waking up as a human, and it seemed to get a little better once he was turned, but lately, it had been getting worse.

“Fine,” Jimin huffed, acting put out, but a small smile made its way to his face. Leaning down, Jimin scooped the smaller man into his arms, Yoongi’s arms and legs quickly wrapping themselves around Jimin like a koala.

“You’re lucky you’re the baby. I wouldn’t do this for just anyone,” Jimin commented, turning and making his way out the door. 

Yoongi was the newest member of the Kim coven, having only been turned a month prior. Jimin had found the baby vampire in an alley underneath a pile of cardboard boxes, trying to hide from the sun. Baby vampires couldn’t tolerate any sun, but as they got older, they could begin to walk out in the sun again. Jimin found the baby curled in on himself, burns lining his arms where the cardboard boxes had fallen away and were letting small strips of sunlight in.

Jimin quickly whisked the baby home to his coven leader, Seokjin, after realizing that the other’s sire had abandoned him, a crime in the vampiric world. 

Baby vampires were almost helpless once turned. Most didn’t know about the vampire world before turning, so besides not knowing the laws of being a vampire, baby vampires couldn’t feed on their own or be out in the sun. Jimin had been surprised that Yoongi survived as long as he did. Babies didn’t have their own fangs yet, so they either had to drink from a pouch or directly from another vampire, neither of which Yoongi had before being accepted into the Kim coven.

Making his way down the stairs, Jimin kept a constant flow of conversation, mainly telling Yoongi that the hyungs (Namjoon, Seokjin, and Hoseok), as well as Taehyung, were all away from the house today on business, but would be back in a couple of days. Jimin didn’t think Yoongi was actually paying too much attention, too busy gnawing on Jimin’s neck, but he figured Yoongi appreciated the sounds rumbling out of his chest based on the content sighs he was hearing.

“Aw, was the baby tired this morning?” Jungkook questioned once Jimin walking into the kitchen with Yoongi in his arms. Jungkook had been the baby before Yoongi had been found, but he had still been turned almost 200 years ago, so he hadn’t been a baby vampire in a long time. Jungkook had been happy to give the title of baby over to someone as cute as Yoongi.

Jimin hummed in acknowledgment and settled down into the chair opposite Jungkook, situating Yoongi on his lap so he could be more comfortable while he fed.

Pushing Yoongi’s head away from his neck, which caused the baby to let out a small while, Jimin quickly nicked the side of his neck with his fingernail so the younger could feed.

Yoongi quickly latched on, needing relief from his burning throat. Sighing in relief, he relaxed on Jimin’s shoulder, sucking lightly on the older vampire’s neck. Jimin smiled fondly before turning to talk with Jungkook.

Not even five minutes later, Yoongi pulled away from the cut on Jimin’s neck, licking over it a few times to help it close. 

“Baby?” Jimin asked, shocked that Yoongi had stopped drinking. He hadn’t been drinking for long, and as lightly as Yoongi had been drinking, it definitely hadn’t been enough for the baby to get his fill. As a baby vampire, he needed blood a couple times a day, while the others in the coven could go a few days and maybe even weeks before needing something to drink.

This was odd for Yoongi, to say the least. When Yoongi was first brought home, he couldn’t get enough blood. Part of that was because he was a baby, but Seokjin theorized it was also caused by the trauma of being abandoned. Yoongi had been starved for days before he was found. His brain still didn’t think he was completely safe, so he ate as much as he could when he had the chance, still scared that that meal might be his last for a while. It took about a week for that to subside, Yoongi finally learning that he was going to be taken care of as part of the Kim coven. 

“What’s the matter, honey? I drank your favorite this morning. Do you not like it?” Jimin continued, worried that maybe something was wrong with the blood, even though it had tasted fine for him this morning.

Yoongi just whined, turning his head back into Jimin’s neck. He knew he should be hungry, like he was every morning, but that just wasn’t the case today. The little blood he had seemed to fill him up. He wasn’t really in the mood to eat anyway. His mouth hurt, he felt hot all over, and he was cranky from getting woken up, but luckily he was so tired, he didn’t feel up to really talking and getting upset at anybody.

Remembering that gnawing on Jimin’s neck earlier had seemed to help the pain in his mouth, Yoongi quickly started chewing at the older man’s neck again.

“Why did you lick it closed if you’re still hungry, sweetheart?” Jimin chuckled once he felt the baby’s small teeth on his neck again, a wave of relief washing through him. “Hold on, more food’s coming.”

He quickly reached a hand up and cut himself again so Yoongi could eat, but Yoongi sat up quickly as soon as the blood started flowing in his mouth, letting out another whine. 

“Baby? What’s the matter?” Jimin felt the relief from earlier wash away. 

“Maybe the blood was bad?” Jungkook asked, also confused as to why Yoongi was acting this way. “It didn’t taste funky to you?”

“No, it tasted fine. I think I would be feeling bad if something was wrong with the blood,” Jimin replied. Now he was starting to get worried. And of course this happens while all the hyungs were away from the house.

“Why don’t we all go lay on the couch for a while,” Jungkook suggested. “Maybe he’s not awake enough to be hungry yet. I did hear him tossing and turning a lot last night.” 

Jimin figured that was as good of an idea as any, so pulling Yoongi closer to him, he made his way to the living room, Jungkook following behind. 

“Here you go, baby,” Jimin laid Yoongi down on the couch, pulling the blanket off the back to lay over the small man. “Why don’t you just go back to sleep and we’ll try again in a bit.”

Yoongi just hummed, eyes already halfway closed. Not even 30 seconds later and the baby was out like a light. 

Sitting down next to Yoongi’s head, Jimin ran a hand through Yoongi’s hair, hoping to soothe not only the baby, but himself. Bringing his hand back up for a second runthrough, Jimin paused. No, that couldn’t be right.

Jumping up from the couch to kneel in front of Yoongi’s head, Jimin laid his hands on Yoongi’s face.

No. It’s not possible.

“What? What’s the matter?” Jungkook asked, curious as to why Jimin was acting this way.

“Come over here and feel his face,” Jimin replied, not explaining himself.

Jungkook crouched next to Jimin, gently placing his hands on Yoongi’s face, not wanting to wake the baby up. 

“What am I supposed to-” Jungkook cut himself off, realizing what was wrong and why Jimin was acting like he was. 

Yoongi was warm. Warm.

Vampires didn’t get warm. It was impossible. Something was seriously wrong if Yoongi was warm.

“I’m calling Jin,” Jimin jumped up, running out of the room for his phone, leaving Jungkook kneeling next to the couch, biting on his lip in worry.

“Hyung, something’s wrong,” Jimin all but cried, running back into the room, worry evident on his face. “I don’t know what’s wrong, but something is. Yoongi is warm. He’s warm. That’s not possible for a vampire.”

Jimin started pacing the room waiting for the older vampire to speak.

“Calm down, sweetheart. Take a deep breath and tell me what’s been going on,” Jin spoke steadily through the phone. 

Jimin did as he was told, sucking in a huge breath. Even though vampires didn’t need to breathe, it did help calm him down some.

“Good boy. Now, tell hyung what’s been going on this morning.”

Jimin went on to tell the coven leader what had happened that morning, starting with Yoongi not wanting to wake up to him barely drinking breakfast.

“Something is wrong with him, hyung. He’s got to be sick or something. I don’t know how since vampires can’t get sick, but he is. I just know it, hyung. You have to come back and help us,” Jimin pleaded.

Jin hummed.

“What’s he doing now?” 

Jimin stopped his pacing to turn toward the couch. Jungkook had moved onto the couch, replacing the spot where Jimin was earlier next to Yoongi’s head. Yoongi was still fast asleep, but his hand had moved up to his ear and Jimin could see a small puddle of drool on his pillow. Jimin told him as such.

Through the phone, Jimin could hear Jin let out a small chuckle.

“Sweetheart, do you remember your time as a baby?” 

Jimin didn’t know whether to think it was good or bad that Jin didn’t seem too upset or worried about what was happening.

“No, hyung. What’s that got to do with anything?”

Jin let out another chuckle. 

“I know it’s been a while since you were a baby, but I would think you would remember going through this. You acted the same exact way. Always had to be holding on to someone, wouldn’t let us leave you alone for days,” Jin reminisced. 

Jimin let out a small sound, still confused as to what was happening with their baby.

“Honey, he’s going to be fine. He’s just teething. This means his fangs are starting to come in. It’s a good thing,” Jin reassured. 

“He’s going to be okay?”

“He’s going to be okay.”

Jimin finished up the call, getting reassurance from Jin that nothing was actually wrong and also tips on how to take care of Yoongi until the others got home. Jimin couldn’t remember his own teething phase, but then again, it had been a long time. 

Hanging up the phone, Jimin turned back to the couch, relieved to see Yoongi still fast asleep. Sleep would be good for him.

“He’s fine?” Jungkook asked, finally taking a break from chewing on his lip. He’d only heard half of the conversation, but it didn’t sound like anything bad from what Jimin had said.

“He’s going to be okay,” Jimin repeated Jin’s words from earlier. “He’s just teething. Our baby’s growing up and is getting his fangs.”

When the others returned, cutting their trip short, they found Jimin and Jungkook wrapped around the baby, curled up on the couch, fast asleep.

.

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I've seen a lot of vampire teething fics lately, so I decided I wanted to write my own. I'm also a sucker for ot7 supernatural fics, so this is what I ended up with. And there's a huge lack of maknae-yoongi fics, so I decided to fix that.

I was super lazy and didn't edit this at all. Literally wrote it in one go and didn't even read through it.

Let me know what you think! It's been a while since I last wrote, and I'm trying to get back into writing, so drop a request if you want (could be this universe or completely different). Also, check me out on twitter (yoongismandu) or ao3 (newtmasofficial).

[some-dr-writings]

Nagito and his little feisty sibling

·       Meeting you was the greatest stroke of good luck in Nagito’s life, and likely ever would be, and that was saying something! Though… Nagito wasn’t sure meeting you was due to luck, rather just by chance. Normally his luck worked in the most bombastic of ways but meeting you was so sobering and calm, quiet.

·       There was this park Nagito liked going to. It was small, had some more natury, foresty bits and others more man made with a little outdoor gym. He spotted you around evening times in the forested area. You were always there then, and you always ran away from adults. You were probably a few years younger than him, maybe by five or six, but he couldn’t quite tell for sure though. He didn’t think much of it at the time and thought you might be shy. “Uh, hello!” “Huh? Oh, hi!” But… you seemed rather cheerful when he met you. Though you were a little reserved and didn’t tell Nagito your name at first, so he called you ‘Bubblegum’ because you were sweet and explosive.

·       Nagito began visit you every evening. It scared him seeing how often you got bloodied in fights. “Bubblegum! You have to stop fighting! This is the third time this week!” “Never! They started it anyway. They were saying mean things about you again.” Nagito would simply try his best to patch you up. In the beginning he’d try to get adults to help to either heal you or stop the fighting, but you always hid away.

·       “Y/N, where’s your mom and dad?” “Don’t know and don’t care. I, am independent! But adults don’t seem to think so and just want to send me back to THEM.” “Oh, I don’t have a mom or dad either.” “… WHAT!? But you’re so scrawny!” You puffed out your chest and tried to show off your nonexistent muscles to prove how strong you were. “Then stick with me! I’ll protect you, even if you are older. Oh, and I’ll teach you how to be strong like me!”

·       From that moment on, more often than not, you were by one another’s side. Nagito’s luck even managed to get you to be siblings legally and he your guardian. Nagito tried his best to look after you. He was your big brother and basically your new parent and you were an amazing person in his eyes, so strong willed, determined, smart, and kind, you deserved the very best! In trying to do so, Nagito was very doting, to the point of spoiling you rotten. Anything you wanted, he could never refuse. He’d never let you lift a finger with chores or anything really unless you specifically asked him to let you help. You didn’t particularly care for chores, but you asked to help with them a lot. It seemed to be the only time you got to spend with him for a while. He was always busy trying to cook, and clean, you just wanted to hangout with your big brother.

·       Even years after getting into a much more stable and safe household with Nagito, you were still a loud, rambunctious child and found yourself getting into fights a lot, even to the point of being labeled a delinquent and problem child by the staff and fellow classmates. When Nagito took you home, you were snippy and standoffish, saying you were bullying the bullies or something akin to that sentiment. One time though when you were walking with him, you just refused to talk. “Y/N? Are you crying?” “N-no!” Though you had turned away from him he saw how tense you were and heard those sniffles. “Hmm…” He quickly stepped before you and kneeled down to your height. “Are you feeling okay, Bubblegum?” “u-uh… y-ye… no.” You hugged back yourself, trying to hold back the tears, your face flushing a bright red, embarrassed to be crying outside where people could see you, but you just couldn’t hold it back. Then you tackled Nagito, almost knocking him over. “W-whoa! Bubblegum?” You just hugged him, burrowing your face into his chest, just wanting to hide. “Y-you’d tell me if people wanted to take me away, right?” “What? Of course I would.” He held you close gently running a hand up and down your back. “I-I… the, they said I’d be taken away. They said you can’t take care of me, that I’m lashing out because you hurt me, an-and that I need to be taken away from you.” “No. No, no,no,no,no,no, no. As long as you want to stay with me, I won’t let anyone take my Bubblegum away.” He was relieved hearing your tears slow, yet, your grip only grew more tense. “Don’t say that!” You shoved him away. “Y-you don’t love me!?” “No, I love you very much! You’re my little sibling, you’re amazing.” You simply stared at him for a moment before Nagito suddenly found himself crumpled over, clutching his stomach which was searing with pain as he heard footfalls race away. Nagito knew you could throw quite a punch, but this was certainly more than a few steps up from your playful punches to his arm. After a few moments he dizzily staggered to his feet.

·       He searched and searched, calling out for you. All attempts to call and text were left unread. He even found your phone on the ground at one point. He never stopped, not even once. He knew if he just waited his luck would probably lead him to you, that you were a strong person, so you’d probably be okay, but… He couldn’t keep himself from looking. Even late into the night, through that inky darkness with only sparse lights from the streetlamps that lit the way he kept looking.

·       Eventually though he did find you, in exactly the same place he had the very first time. In that little thicket of forest in the park. You were simply sitting on the ground, hugging your knees, mindlessly picking at the grass beside you. “There you are, Bubblegum!” You didn’t even glance at him. “… If you’re mad at me, I can go and give you spa-” “Stop it.” “Huh?” “Just… just…” You sounded so exhausted. Your voice horse and incredibly quiet, if it wasn’t the dead of night where only the light rustling of leaves in the wind, he likely would have thought you never spoke. “Stop? Stop what? Just tell me and I’ll-” “SHUT UP!” You abruptly stood up and wiped around revealing your tear stained cheeks and puffy eyes. “WHY DO YOU HATE ME!? WHY DO I MAKE YOU THINK YOUR GARBAGE!?” “Y/N, what are you talking about?” “YOU JUST-… YOU TOLD ME YOU’D STOP CALLING YOURSELF GARBAGE, B-BUT YOU STILL DO! YOU JUST DO IT INDIRECTLY NOW! YOU-YOU SAY YOU’LL ONLY KEEP ME AROUND IF I WANTED IT, SO DON’T- YOU DON’T WANT ME! YOU ALWAYS THINK YOU’RE NOT GOOD ENOUGH, THAT YOU’RE TRASH- IS THAT WHY YOU HATE ME? BECAUSE YOU THINK I’M SO AMAZING AND YOU’RE NOT GOOD ENOUGH- THAT YOU’RE NOTHING COMPARED TO ME? IS THAT WHY? IS THAT WHY YOU ALWAYS AVOID ME NOW!? WHY YOU ALWAYS DO CHORES, AND ONLY DO THINGS LIKE PLAY VIDEO GAMES WHEN I ASK, BECAUSE YOU NEVER WANT TO? EVERYTHING YOU DO IS BECAUSE I ASK BUT… But- Why don’t you want to be with me anymore? I love you, I don’t want to leave you, but I want you to stop hating me. Will you stop thinking you’re trash, stop hating me for making you think that if I leave? If I stop fighting will you love me again? If I stop being amazing and strong, and so full of hope, will you stop thinking you’re trash? Would you go back to being the awesome guy who saved me from people who hurt me, go back to being the guy who’d go out of his way to visit me everyday because HE wanted to? Would… w-would you love me again and want me to stay? I-IF IT WASN’T FOR YOUR STUPID LUCK WOULD WE BE SIBLINGS ANYWAY!? DO YOU EVEN WANT ME AROUND OR WERE YOU FORCED INTO THIS! WAS… was it all bad luck? I… I’m sorry for being a bad kid.” And then you just collapsed to your knees. You felt like crying but there were no more tears left so you just hugged yourself, trembling. Meanwhile Nagito was just left there in stunned silence. There were so many things he wanted to say, you are amazing, he loved you, he was a trash brother, but… all that would only hurt you more. So, what was he supposed to do? It seemed no matter what he’d do, it’d be wrong because you’d likely assume he was just doing it for you and not because he wanted too.

·       It was a long night.

·       You loved one another, but… things were rather rocky for a while. Nagito actually started going to therapy for his self-worth issues because of it. It was a long process, one that was still ongoing by the time Nagito was invited to Hope’s Peak.

·       Since he was living on campus Nagito got special permission for you to be allowed to stay in his dorm room as well. He didn’t think it was that big of a deal, especially since he wholeheartedly believed that you’d one day be invited to this very school so you were just getting a feel for the grounds before joining.

·       Once you were sent home early for getting into another fight, and Nagito asked Miss. Yukizome if you could join in class with everyone else. Nagito’s classmates were a bit hesitant, fearing a mini Nagito, but were pleasantly surprised. At first you were quiet, but when Nekomaru found you had snuck off to his lab to try out some of his exercising equipment, you seemed to warm up to them. You’d challenge both Akene and Nekomaru to fights, and both eagerly helped you with training. You even managed to wrap Fuyuhiko and Peko into this, Peko teaching you how to use a sword and Fuyuhiko tried to subtly teach you how to pick your fights so you wouldn’t accidentally anger any gangs with your fiery personality. Due to training you were always hungry and became Teru’s favorite customer, always adoring every bite and even asking to learn from him so you could make Nagito lunch boxes for a change since he always cooked for you. Whenever you joined the class for the day you always came bloodied and bruised so Mikan would patch you up every time as you eagerly listened to Gundham and Sonia speak of the dark arts or Ibuki as she wailed away on her guitar, perhaps even play video games with Chiaki! In the end you sort of became the whole class’ little sibling, much to Nagito’s delight, of course greatness recognizes greatness. It wasn’t all fun and games though, you often trying to sneakily set up Nagito on dates with Hajime, or telling the others embarrassing stories. Nagito would fight back though, calling you ‘Bubblegum’ in such a sickeningly sweet tone that you’d always blush furiously at.

·       Even with luck life was not perfect but no matter what, you were Nagito’s little sibling and he’d do whatever it took to give you as great of a life as possible. He truly loved you.

[entropictome]

Holiday Hot Pot

S:Final Fantasy XIV No plot or purpose. Just one man, his friends, family, his overwhelming grief and their very late Starlight. [mentioned non-WoL OCxThancred] 5754 words [ More FFXIV Content ]

“You look like shit.”

Moth’ir was missing his characteristic shades so all four occupants could clearly see the viera’s tactless comment send his eyes rolling. Five if the infant in his arms wasn’t soundly asleep. His comeback was snappy as always. “Thanks, kid. Thought I’d take a page from your book for a change.”

The Burn’s reaction was immediate. His rage coiled in his arms as he quickly changed stance. Ever one to turn to violence before reason. His voice rose as he started “,Why are you always-”

The rest was swallowed by a mitten plopped against his mouth. His smaller─but no less dangerous─companion shot him a long suffering look. Keeping The Burn’s temper under control was like trying to keep a lit match from igniting firedamp in a coal mine. Most folks had no hope but to abandon the mission to begin with. Ibuki was the sole exception. Though she could give him a good and proper dressing-down, it didn’t take much besides a sigh and disappointed look to upend his rampage before it started.

The anger didn’t go away, it just receded, but it allowed the pale and dark scaled auri to turn their attention back to their long missing friend. The three gathered around him with varying levels of interest. Leaving Havhen to flail helplessly as their presence was quickly forgotten in that of Moth’ir’s. Whom was obviously the more respected between the two when it came to their present company.

“You’ve been gone for months without word! We were really worried!” Ibuki stated, nearly whining with the intensity of her sincerity.

“We would have come sooner but there were a lot of things to take care of,” the Xaela man spoke apologetically. “There were so many festivals and trying to keep the bar staffed with so many people wanting days off and of course the Basement-”

Ibuki elbowed her much taller compatriot and cut his further worrying off by enthusing “,but Bukidai has dealt with all of it marvelously well so you don’t need to worry.”

“Oh?” Moth’ir looked at the Xaela with an appraising look. Though, paired with an easy grin, it was unlikely he was being serious. “Food baskets?”

“All delivered as of yesterday,” Bukidai, who was serious, assured him. “Thanks to our volunteers.”

“Volunteers is it? Did Mr. Auberdine show up?” Moth’ir asked and chuckled lightly when he saw Bukidai’s surprise.

“Ah, yes. Though we had to ask him to leave-”

“Because he was trying to convince everyone that volunteers deserved two baskets for their trouble.” Moth’ir interrupted, leaving Bukidai startled once again. “Did that every year. A few others too. Reason why I started delivering them my own damn self if I’m honest.”

“Every year?” Bukidai’s horror was indication enough that Mr. Auberdine had thrown one of his characteristic fits before he allowed himself to be let go.

“Grew up as a wealthy merchant’s son and then his family landed themselves in dire straights with bad investments,” Moth’ir shrugged. He was sympathetic but the sympathy was for Booker, not the man. “He’s remarkably less worse than he was but he’s never quite gotten over the idea he deserves more than everyone else.”

Bukidai sighed and shook his head. “Regardless, I think we can make do with our other volunteers if they want to pitch in again.”

“If you say so,” Moth’ir said dubiously. Bukidai held unto hope for dear life but Moth’ir had been divested of that a long long time ago. “Take care with old U’leh. Greying Miqo’te lady, very unassuming. She likes to troll through some of the donated items in Spring and Autumn for cakes to raffle off at her little charity parties.”

“She raffles off donated cakes?” Bukidai was aghast then pulled himself off the topic for another. “Spring is an awful long time away. Aren’t you coming back?”

“If you need to break out, we’ve got you,” Ibuki rose her sweater’s sleeve so she might flex her otherwise deceptively pudgy arm. Havhen─who had been watching their interaction with keen interest and was not familiar with Ibuki’s playful personality─shot Moth’ir an alarmed look over her shoulder.

“Contrary to whatever belief you might have, I am here of my own free will,” Moth’ir stated firm enough that they knew he meant it. He had certainly come of his own accord anyway. Staying was less than thrilling since he didn’t much care for the sole physician in this strange hospital. Divulging why was far more personal than he was comfortable sharing but he did add a “More or less.”

“More or less?” The Burn attention had been momentarily bought by the possibility of fighting.

Moth’ir gave him a stern look “,I’m staying.”

It was the right thing to do. More than that, it was where Thancred had left him. Left them. The four of them descended into an awkward silence. None of whom seemed particularly thrilled with the prospect.

Ibuki, hopping from one foot to the next, tried her best to break the quiet. “Is the baby yours? Bukidai said you left because you were feeling sick and had suspected but we didn’t know for sure.”

“Ibuki!” Bukidai chastised her.

Moth’ir gave him a solid kick to the shin. Which might have actually hurt had he been wearing anything but his slippers. He gasped and proclaimed with played up scandalization “What a gossip!”

Havhen was likely the only one of them who noticed the slight hissing. Something which indicated an actual irritation from Moth’ir he hid by dramatizing it.

“Is it a boy or girl?” Ibuki asked before throwing her arms up and blithely gesturing “,you know, for now.”

It was a joke that three of them understood better than the other two. Though she wasn’t aware of Havhen’s case. She had quite nearly forgotten they were there at all. Which was more or less in their favor as they were busy taking mental notes. Specifically on Moth’ir’s face after Ibuki asked her question. Moth’ir had settled into fatherhood like a round peg in a square hole. He’d fallen in but the corners weren’t right. Fairly typical of new parents but he’d taken his ineptitude as immediate failure and the guilt had landed him here in Havhen’s care. He’d only just been able to acknowledge his daughter directly at all.

Moth’ir visibly braced himself before muttering “,it’s uh... she.”

“She’s so cute! Can I hold her?” Ibuki thrust her arms out exuberantly. Either not noticing the stumble or too polite to point it out. Moth’ir handed her over mayhaps a bit too eagerly but the fact he’d been carrying her without needing to was progress. Havhen made a note of it.

Holding a baby was something Ibuki had enough experience in that she hadn’t needed coaching. Utterly doting, she looked fairly natural cooing down at the fussy bundle who had begun to stir due to the commotion and movement. Moth’ir struggled not to look miserable watching the pair, ears flattened against his head. Grief that went unnoticed now that all attention was on the baby.

“What’s her name?” Bukidai asked pleasantly.

“Doesn’t have one.” Moth’ir said flatly. Bukidai looked to him with confusion but Moth’ir waved him off and continued. “Her dad thought I should name her but I’ve been preoccupied and just... haven’t.”

Havhen distinctly remembered the white haired hyur had mentioned he’d wanted Moth’ir to name her because it might help them bond. And something about having already named two girls but that hadn’t been meant for Havhen’s ears. The concern of Moth’ir’s friends weren’t at all alleviated by the explanation but Bukidai had enough sense to recognize Moth’ir’s agitation. He simply nodded and smiled, if a bit awkwardly. “I’m sure it will come to you soon.”

Moth’ir brushed him off, glanced over at the window and the dwindling light outside. Whatever he’d wanted to see there caused him to sigh. He postulated “,You three didn’t really have a plan once you got here, did you?”

Said three exchanged glances that said they hadn’t and then all four heads turned to Havhen. The physician shook their head and crossed their arms in front of them. “Absolutely, not! This is a mental care facility! Not an inn!”

“It’s not like you’ve got any other patients and there’s not exactly a line waiting,” Moth’ir stated sternly.

“Nevertheless there are professional standards I have to adhere to,” Haven pushed back with just as much authority.

“It’s a madhouse,” Moth’ir exclaimed incredulously “,You’re already a joke and a half!”

“Not a madhouse!” Haven corrected him with a great deal of passion. “Those facilities garner their reputation by focusing on containment and are as like to cause as much─if not more─damage to their patients had they just left them alone. This facility is for study and treatment with the intent of rehabilitation.”

Havhen was a generally genial person but this was a subject they were particularly staunch on. Moth’ir, on the other hand, was just normally stubborn and exceedingly opinionated. Where the standoff would go was any one’s guess but it wasn’t likely to be clean. With that in mind, Ibuki interjected “,that’s actually quite fascinating! I’d love to get an interview with you on the subject for an article. Mor Dhona isn’t that far from Ul’dah, I’m sure some of my readers would love to know more.”

“You’re a reporter?” Havhen asked, scrutinizing the pastel garbed auri woman closer.  “Publicity would be nice but your ilk are so fond of twisting things on their head for greater attention.”

“Well, you’re in luck because miss Bunji is far more partial toward fluff pieces,” Bukidai noted with a fair bit of amusement.

“Oh! I’m so tired of writing hard hitting news! Everyone is so wary of talking to me now but I don’t mean to find bad things! I’m just very good at tripping into them,” her sudden outburst sounded surprisingly sincere considering it’s absurdity. It had also upset the baby who she quickly went about soothing. “Oh! I’m so sorry, dear thing. It’s okay! Nothing’s wrong! You’re not running a money laundering business out of here are you?”

The last question was aimed at Havhen who simply held their hands up defensively. “If I was I wouldn’t be struggling to make rent.”

“You’d be surprised,” Ibuki sighed as she gently rocked the baby back to complacency.

Havhen considered the three newcomers and nodded approvingly. “Alright. You can stay for a short while.”

There was a short lived celebratory movement before Havhen added: “Under the condition you do chores around the building and submit yourselves for an interview of my own.”

Moth’ir balked. “Nevermind, everyone can go sleep outside.”

Havhen crossed his arms and said firmly “,if she’s going to write about my organization she might as well get the best understanding of what I’m trying to do.”

“I think we can handle some housework and questions,” Bukidai offered, trying to hearten Moth’ir whose grimace only deepened in return.

Moth’ir threw his hands up and shook his head but went to his next order of business “,Regardless, your kitchen stock is atrocious. Scribbles, go out and see what food stuffs you can pick up for tonight. It’s Starlight and almost sundown so don’t expect a lot.”

“You can count on me!” Ibuki chirped despite his sentiment and snapped off a salute unfamiliar to Havhen.

“You,” he pointed at The Burn “,there’s some weird creatures out of town. Ask around the adventurers, see what all is edible and how, kill it and bring the proper bits back.”

The Burn grinned and smacked his fists together. “I can do that.”

“As long as you can ask politely and don’t pick a fight,” Ibuki said to him as more of a warning than anything else.

“You’re with me in the kitchen,” Moth’ir nodded toward Bukidai “,let’s prep and you can see if you have any more ideas about what we have on hand than I.”

“And me?” Havhen pointed at themself.

“You’re on baby duty.” Moth’ir gestured dramatically toward his daughter, still in Ibuki’s arms who passed her off to them.

“Alright kids, we have a short amount of time and very little to work with. Let’s move,” Moth’ir gestured and his people went to do as they were asked.

Havhen and the child watched them all scatter. Before today Moth’ir had been antagonistic and withdrawn around them. This commanding man and the willingness of his peers to follow his direction was bemusing. Both attitudes were entirely alien from the way he had been with his beau. At least when he didn’t think Havhen was looking. Assuming different personae to suit different groups was normal enough but, when all was said and done, some of Moth’ir’s faces would likely have to die to save the host.

“It should be an interesting night for us, I think.” They cooed gently to the nameless girl.

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

Havhen had hoped they might be able to observe something that would give them clarity on Moth’ir in the process of the night. What they happened to see was utter chaos. Babies need care and Moth’ir’s child was particularly fussy without any seeming need to be. A fact even her wet nurse had noted. Then there was the utter mess that Moth’ir and Bukidai were making in their kitchen. Which was adequate enough by Havhen’s standards but not theirs.

The Burn returned first. A bit bloodied for his trouble. He’d gotten a handful of strange looking material he all swore was good for eating in a variety of ways. Havhen had some doubts but Moth’ir took him at his word.

“Who did you piss off?” Moth’ir asked passively after getting a proper look at the viera’s nose.

“Some weird frogs, some newts, wriggly things, you know,” The Burn gestured toward his assorted meats as if the question in itself was inane.

“I said: who,” Moth’ir reiterated, pointedly.

The Burn crossed his arms and stood defiantly. Which unraveled under Moth’ir’s steely gaze and he finally yelled “,it was some roegadyn, okay? Didn’t like the way I asked and wouldn’t listen so he started punching. He was asking for it.”

Moth’ir shrugged and shook his head. He wasn’t exactly pleased but the disappointment didn’t stick. He said to The Burn “,Thanks for the bits, kid. Since you’re here, try and keep that one out of our hair.”

Moth’ir gestured toward Havhen, saying to them: “And you? Good luck.”

It was a particularly perplexing series of statements that cleared itself up over the course of a brief conversation. Havhen came to the conclusion that The Burn would make a good case study if he’d allow it. Alas, it was unlikely that The Burn would avail himself to their care so Havhen was forced to deal with him on a social level. Which was an exceedingly unpleasant task. He was combative, sullen, and downright rude without any self awareness. A hungry malboro would have made better company.

Luckily, Ibuki returned not too long after. If her strength had been in question, it was not now as she managed to juggle a notable number of boxes. Of which she was more hampered by the awkwardice of their distribution than their weight.

“What did you do? Buy the whole market?” Bukidai exclaimed as he started offloading her parcels.

“There’s a lot more in the market than food, you know,” Ibuki retorted. “I just got things that they said were edible and looked good.”

“Is that a whole dodo?” Moth’ir asked as he eyeballed what she’d brought in.

“Yup! The man said I could have it cheap because it’s Starlight,” she said as she divested herself of her last package. Arms free, Ibuki turned to Havhen and stretched them out to them “,let me see the baby!”

They could hardly deny her after she asked so passionately.

“More likely that the seller misjudged his buyer’s needs and wanted to offload it quickly,” Moth’ir commented looking the bird over. He’d found little wrong with it all the same.

“Oh! Oh!” She hopped back around to face him after having secured the baby in her arms “,I was thinking maybe a hot pot would be good?” Ibuki’s suggestion sounded more like the favorite child pleading a favor of an otherwise stern parent. 

“I think I saw a burner for one,” Bukidai added with a questioning note. Indirectly asking why Havhen would have one to begin with.

“I’m quite particular towards hot pot dishes, myself,” Havhen explained “,I should have noodles too.”

Ibuki looked enthused for all of a second before she schooled herself back and asked “,like, spaghetti?”

Havhen gave her a sympathetic look and patted her and the shoulder “,I’m not sure I’ve had pasta in a hot pot. Personally, I’m preferential toward glass noodles but I have udon too.”

This suitably reignited Ibuki’s excitement. She nearly launched herself at Havhen, might have had it not been for the babe, asking “,you have a lot of stuff from Othard here, actually. Have you gone to Kugane?”

Havhen suspected the woman might be a tad homesick but unfortunately had to shake their head. “Not myself. The matrons of my clan told me stories of Yanxia from when we’d travel before the Garlean occupation. I believe it’s a short boat ride between?”

Moth’ir audibly hissed. A thing so uncharacteristic that it completely silenced the room a second and then was immediately moved on from. Moth’ir’s friends assuming it had been unintentional; like a sneeze. They hadn’t been told that Havhen had just happened to be Moth’ir’s long lost sibling. That their clan had once been his. At least, before they’d left him to die as a small child. But Havhen did.

They gave him an apologetic look. Divulging details about their clan hadn’t been their intent. It was an act which Moth’ir had very clearly expressed wanting nothing to do with. Their conciliation did little to quell the absolute rage that Moth’ir was having trouble keeping from his face. Cooking did though.

Havhen and Ibuki settled into chatting idly about Othard while the babe slept in her arms. The Burn─whose chaotic nature had been hard contained just moments before─sat calmly watching Ibuki. A man who was seeing his girlfriend in a domestic light for the first time and wasn’t sure what to think. Havhen rather thought he looked awed. The dining table they sat at and the kitchen were hardly separated. Only a partition that covered perhaps half the room from view. With The Burn preoccupied, he could hardly stop Havhen from observing Moth’ir.

Havhen had thought Bukidai might be in charge of the hot pot, seeing a Xaela would surely know more of the concept than a Eorzean born miqo’te. He was no doubt talented but it was to Moth’ir’s beck and call that he scurried. Ibuki mentioned to them that the pair had come to Kugane some time ago and that’s when Moth’ir had picked up some new techniques. Havhen was fairly impressed that anyone could simply “pick up” traditional methods from one trip but there was a great deal they did not know about Moth’ir.

Ibuki and his hyur “friend” had both spoken about Moth’ir’s prowess as a craftsman. The man had asked him to make a dress for their child and what he produced was of a higher quality than Havhen had expected. The act of putting the dress on the baby had helped Moth’ir acknowledge her and he’d since made several articles of it’s ilk. They had encouraged it because it seemed to be a source of catharsis for him. In the kitchen, Moth’ir seemed just as at home as he did with a sewing needle. Though these two fields were not the limits of his capabilities, Ibuki confirmed they were two specialties of his many interests.

He also seemed to be cooking more or less as a stress relief at the moment. As evidenced by the increasing number of plates Bukidai was producing.

“This is actually pretty early for us.”

It was a lovely little spread. Maybe more geared toward ten people than five. Ibuki had gotten her hot pot. Her eyes glittered despite the fact some of the ingredients used were… questionable in texture. It did look appetizing despite knowing where some of it had come from.

“Do you usually make so much food too?” Havhen eyed the spread and glanced to Bukidai.

“Uh…” Bukidai sheepishly responded, rubbing the back of his neck and then taking a moment to remove his neck tie as he’d suddenly become cognizant of it. “Yes and no? Traditionally, we cook a lot more but we also share with the neighborhood.”

“They do that at the end of every moon but Starlight is supposed to be special,” The Burn noted dully.

“Must be profitable in Ul’dah,” Havhen suggested without having any real clue.

“Oh, it’s all free though.” Ibuki commented cheerily.

“Who knew you were such a philanthropist?” Havhen remarked, turning around only to find Moth’ir missing. They stepped into the kitchen and found him sitting behind the partition. His head between his knees and both hands resting on the back of his neck.

“Gimme a moment.” He’d murmured, completely devoid of any venom he’d usually summon. He could only turn with a facsimile of it when Havhen sat beside him but the comment he’d expected to have to beat off never came. They simply sat there quietly.

Bukidai pretended to busy himself with the spread once again. Shooing Moth’ir’s clockwork toy off the table. He remarked “,that thing has a mind of it’s own.” A statement that started Ibuki and The Burn on a discussion on whether it had been set to follow the babe─since it was never far away from her─or if it was actually possessed. For that matter, where was the other one? None of the three had seen that one in a while. They only made indirect mentions of the man whose countenance both automatons shared. Neither Ibuki or The Burn knew what his relation was to Moth’ir though they’d seen him from time to time. Only Bukidai had any clue.

Bukidai who much preferred this to impeding on Moth’ir’s privacy any more than he already had.

They sat like that for a long time. The three younger ones chatting amicably amongst themselves while the miqo’te siblings sat out of view. After a bit, Moth’ir had gathered himself enough to pull himself to a more relaxed position. Havhen gave him a moment before risking a quiet remark “,they sound like family.”

Moth’ir only hmm’d at first. When he managed to speak, his voice was quiet too but the lack of force was from the palpable exhaustion that colored the tone. The kind of exhaustion unrelated to sleep. He replied “,Maybe they are. Ul’dah is a long way from the Steppes, Hingashi and wherever the hell The Burn fell out of.”

“Ul’dah is a long way from the Twelveswood too,” Havhen said gently as they could “,but you seem keener to keep your distance.”

“So many questions,” Moth’ir spat but even this indignation lacked fire.

“When one cannot find answers they are often left with nothing but questions,” Havhen replied pleasantly enough. It still pissed Moth’ir off.

The Burn was yelling about something but Ibuki and Bukidai were laughing. At his worst there was a request he calm down because he was disturbing the baby. Words which were also choked with laughter.

Moth’ir let them hang there. Content to sit and listen and not at all up to acknowledging what was a valid statement. He was supposed to be getting better after all but sometimes Havhen and their questions made him want to disappear into the swamp.

“If you don’t celebrate on Starlight, what do you do?” Havhen asked him, trying another angle.

Moth’ir sighed with his whole body. He tried to say “stuff” but all he managed was a weak roll of his wrist.

“You and your man must have some traditions?” Havhen offered.

Moth’ir snorted. The idea of Thancred being any one person’s was cute to him. Even after the hyur had confessed all those things to him before he’d left. Before Moth’ir had had the ability to say it back. Words that he so desperately wanted to say back. They pooled in the back of his throat and begged to be released so Moth’ir did something uncharacteristic of him and spoke about him. If just to speak of him at all. “Thancred’s not usually home when the holidays come around. ‘Specially not these last couple years but when he is it’s just a drink and then sleeping in.”

“Festive,” Havhen said with a chuckle.

Admittedly it didn’t sound like much but it had meaning for him. Maybe Thancred too. A tradition started nearly a decade ago. A rare occasion when Thancred hadn’t had any luck with any fair maiden despite his “silver tongue.” Too inebriated to make it to his lodgings but just sober enough to crash against the backdoor of Moth’ir’s home and workplace. Thancred almost looked dignified sitting there, looking like a misplaced gift from Nymeia’s Saint after Moth’ir’s very long and miserable day.

Thancred somehow talked him into one single drink for the occasion despite Moth’ir’s distaste for alcohol. So they might be on equal footing or some line of the sort. Though Moth’ir wasn’t anywhere near as intoxicated by the time he’d managed to dump Thancred in his bed. Then they’d passed out in a sleep near as deep as death itself. An act remarkable for the both of them.

All their important moments seemed to be in that bed. Very few─if any─had a thing to do with Thancred’s typical salacious activities. It was another sort of intimacy only available to them in the privacy and relative safety of Moth’ir’s room. Honestly and vulnerability that they’d not allowed themselves anywhere else. And yet...

“I didn’t realize you lived together.”

Moth’ir rolled a hand dismissively again. “Some of his stuff is at my place but I don’t think he lives anywhere anymore.”

“Too busy doing what he does.” Havhen said with some meaning. Near everyone who paid attention to the daily happenings around them had some conception of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn even if they didn’t know each member. Savior’s of the realm and at their center the indomitable Warriors of Light.

But Thancred was quite faliable. It was one of his charms.

“I don’t want to go back.” Moth’ir said so quietly Havhen almost didn’t hear him.

Havhen lightly bumped his shoulder against Moth’ir’s. “His life is largely here in Mor Dhona now, isn’t it?”

Moth’ir crossed his arms over his knees and pressed his eyes there to shut out the pressure from behind his eyes. He’d had some conception of Thancred’s work but it was something alien and distant. He imagined it was much the same for Thancred and Moth’ir’s work outside the Tavern. They’d known each other in a way that no one else did─that no one was supposed to─but they’d lived separate lives save where they let it intertwine. A special and private part of themselves tailor made for each other. It had worked. Might have continued to work but then Thancred had taken him from this hospital to the Rising Stones.

He’d met the women who’d given Thancred a shave and a haircut and found he’d liked them both despite that. Hadn’t recognized the man with the sun and stars before he spoke because he’d been missing the goggles and shroud he’d seen him in before. Lightly roasted Thancred with a Seeker woman with whom he shared new material to his friend’s chagrin. One of them would tell him if anything happened to Thancred while he was on the field. Thancred had assured him of such before he’d left.

And he’d liked that. He liked the idea that he’d be one of the first to know. He liked that Thancred had shown him context to the part of his life that had been a thin outline. But Moth’ir could never go back to waiting and wondering and subtext and half told stories they were too tired to finish telling because living it had been too much. He liked knowing and he liked being here and he knew he could never ever go back to that room. It’s privacy and false safety be damned.

He’d fooled himself into thinking he’d feel differently once he returned and started to go around the usual rounds but here he was. The same comedy routine fit like a glove but it was a glove that weighed as much as a buffalo and he was so tired. More than that: “They don’t need me,” Moth’ir said, choking back something that might have been a sob. Though he didn’t know why or what he was feeling exactly.

“It’s gonna get co~ld,” Ibuki’s voice came from beyond the partition.

Bukidai’s voice came after, raised suspiciously “,alright! alright! But make sure you don’t eat everything!” His added emphasis that the couple had had a habit of scarfing down an absurd amount of food returned to a normal pitch but the reaction to it was no less raucous.

Havhen shook their head in agreement and said “,Maybe once, but they do seem to have themselves covered now.”

“Wish I did,” Moth’ir breathed. Drawing himself up and closing his eyes, trying to center himself once more.

It was quiet between them again. The only sound coming from Ibuki singing over what was assumedly a well done meal. But Moth’ir broke the silence by turning to them and stating “,I never wanted children.”

Havhen cocked an eyebrow at him but let him continue on his own without prompting. So Moth’ir continued. “I did when I decided to keep her but I never wanted children. I don’t know how to do this and I don’t… how do we do this? I don’t know how to name kids.”

Havhen considered the distance Moth’ir had kept himself from his family and friends. They considered that he carried internalized feelings of guilt as if his abandonment was due to his own fault. The way he shied away from his daughter and the way he tormented himself for having done so. They wondered if “I never wanted” simply meant he hadn’t thought he should as if he was not worthy.

Moth’ir could simply have been asking for their opinion but the emphasis on “we” seemed like more. They did not know if he meant as keepers or as a clan. They weren’t sure if offering their typical naming conventions would be much use to him. Havhen offered a smile and said “,Oh, I’m not sure it’s all very complicated. You just pick something you think sounds nice or has meaning to you.”

Moth’ir sighed, clearly unsatisfied by that answer. Answers to a question that wasn’t the one he wanted to ask would never be sufficient.

“I think picking a name of someone important to you is suitable as well. As a tribute of sorts,” Havhen tried again despite the futility.

Moth’ir’s eyes stared upward as he considered various people whom he’d had some attachment to. It was an ordeal when one specifically kept people at arms length with few exceptions. “Can’t just name her Menphina, can I?”

“I mean,” Havhen shrugged and said flippantly “,your fellow Eorzeans might find that blasphemous but it’s your daughter.” They received a gentle elbow to the ribs for their trouble.

“Moth.”

“After your mother?” Havhen asked.

Moth’ir eyed him warily. Karga clan was very distinctly something that was his and his alone. It was never far from his mind that Havhen had only ever had their gods forsaken clan. He did not know what they saw when they thought of him and his siblings and his mother together. They all had meant the world and more to him and he misliked the idea of someone belittling that.

Havhen continued to smile at him warmly as he tried to assure him “,I think it’s a lovely name. And, from what your brother has told me, a woman deserving of such dedication.”

Moth’ir only knew that Moth’wo had trusted Havhen with the health of his brother. He’d not had a clue said brother and they were related by blood. How close the two actually were was a mystery to him. He hadn’t even ventured to ask so he had no choice but to accept the comment at face value. Or at least he had no energy to grill them about it.

Eased somewhat he turned his attention inward. He reiterated the name Moth in a whisper. More for himself than Havhen’s benefit. Making it real. Making her real. He closed his eyes and used it as a point to center himself.

Havhen ventured to tap his shoulder to grab his attention before holding their arm out, hopefully offering a hug. Moth’ir regarded them irritably but leaned his shoulder against theirs and allowed himself to be pulled closer. Havhen lightly pressed his head against Moth’ir’s and so they sat. Silent while idly listening to the other three while their minds were elsewhere. For their part, Havhen was busy committing the moment to memory. A small victory for them that may mean nothing but a memento of their brother when he left them for good but that in itself would be enough.

“Hey, you think she can eat some of this meat?” The Burn’s voice asked from beyond the partition.

Moth’ir snapped to, breaking Havhen’s precious moment. On his feet and away in a second. “You feed that baby anything and I swear I’ll kill you with my bare hands.”

Havhen let themself linger for a moment. Wrapped their arms around their knees and listening to the new argument. Havhen had been walking with Moth’ir’s ghost for over a decade. They’d been convinced of his death by their mother and it haunted them. But then he’d returned alive; so very much alive. That life had been a messy and painful one. Whether he cared to know or not, Havhen’s had been much the same. The mystery of what laid before them could very much be more of the same but that wasn’t the important part. That they were alive is what gave those lives meaning. Nothing more, nothing less. Which is why they allowed themselves a moment to linger and not a moment more.

A life must be lived.

And there was a hot pot they needed to get to before it was gone.

[wickedbarnes]

m o n s t e r.

pairing: ransom drysdale x reader

prompt: ransom absolutely hates being rejected. he loathes it, it wounds his ego. so when he finds out that you weren't interested in him, the sheer determination of having you slowly turned into an unhealthy obsession.

trigger warnings: smut. non-con. dubcon. drugging. blackmailing. dark!ransom. do NOT read if any of these make you uncomfortable. 18+ readers ONLY.

note: i'm sorry if the smut may not be that good. i promise i'm trying to improve my smut writing skills :(

Ransom was the type of man who always gets what he wants one way or another. He wasn't the type to back down from a challenge nor was he the type to lose. He always makes sure he wins at the end. For him, nothing tasted so sweet than to have things go his way. He was that type of man and he was proud to admit that.

If he wanted a new car, he'd get it. If he wanted to party on the other side of the goddamn world, he'd book a ticket in a blink of an eye. If he wanted to fuck a girl or two, he'd get them on his knees in an instant. Ransom was a man who had everything. Power, wealth, good looks, you name it.

Being a Thrombey had its perks after all despite how much he dislikes his family.

But of course, there was this... unfortunate fact that not everything went his way. And he realized this the moment he laid eyes on the newest maid inside his grandfather, Harlan's mansion.

Y/N is what they called you. You were only working part-time as a means of earning money while you studied at college. It won't be long 'till you graduated so the student loans that you had needed to be paid and Harlan was generous and kind enough to pay you well.

Ransom took note of how full of life you were. Your eyes held some sort of innocence and purity in them. In fact, he'd be surprised if he ever found out you weren't a virgin. You seemed like the type that had never been properly touched by a man before. Either that, or you just hid that secret so well.

You greeted everyone kindly with a smile on your face and Ransom was sure everyone would be doting on you in no time. But when your doe eyes had fell on him, he saw the hesitation in them. But you quickly masked it with a faint smile, not quite as bright as the one that you gave to the others.

"Welcome back, Hugh." You'd say. And dare say, Ransom was impressed that you already knew he preferred that he was called Hugh by the helpers.

And you did. The first time you were hired, Marta and Fran were kind enough to show you around and taught you how things worked around here, even showed you how to properly serve Harlan's family members. However, it was Marta who told you about Hugh. You could remember her telling you to strictly steer clear from him and that whatever you did, you will only refer to him as Hugh.

And you, being the obedient employee that you are, you weren't planning on causing trouble and made sure to make mental notes of what she said.

So far, you were doing great. You were confused however, as to why she'd tell you to avoid him but when you saw how he treated his family members and the helpers that served him, you instantly understood why you needed to do so.

An asshole.

That's what Ransom Drysdale was.

Days passed during their visit to the mansion, you found yourself trying to stop yourself from giving Ransom a piece of your mind. You just couldn't handle rude people. They never settled well with you. And as quiet and bashful as you were most of the time, you had quite the mouth on you when someone deserves to be taught a lesson.

But by extension, Ransom was kind of your employer. If you upset him, there was no way in hell he wouldn't tell his grandfather. And you didn't want to disappoint Harlan now that he had done so much for you.

So instead, you kept your mouth shut and just continued to do your job.

But your reactions didn't go unnoticed by the cold-hearted playboy. He knew you disliked him. And in a way, he found it amusing. It wasn't the first time he heard of people not being quite fond of him. Most of the time, he didn't care. But with you, it somehow makes him chuckle.

In all honesty, he found you adorable trying to suppress what you wanted to say to him whenever he talked shit to his family or to Fran or Marta. He saw how you'd scowl and walk away from the scene just so you wouldn't burst and make you put him in his place if that's even possible. As if he'd let anyone dominate him.

It started out small, really. He had woken up early and found you wiping the windows clean. You wiped the sweat that was forming on your forehead as Ransom went downstairs, making his presence known. You turned around and saw him smiling softly at you.

"Good morning, Y/N." He greeted you and to say you weren't quite taken aback would be a lie. But you weren't rude like Ransom and he knows that. So instead of ignoring him, you forced a smile back and slowly brushed passed him to make your way to the laundry room. But not before you greeted him back.

"Good morning, Hugh." You'd say. And just like that, you were out of his grasp.

After that exchange, you'd find Ransom out in the garden with you as you watered the plants, in the kitchen where you'd help prepare food, in the laundry room where you tried to clean everyone's dirty clothes. He was there, trying to start up a conversation with you. But all of which you gave such limited answers to.

You didn't want to indulge him of trying to get to know you. You knew better than to let your guard down with men like Ransom. He was the kind of man that your mother had warned about. And you knew better than to be fooled by him.

Your headstrong personality despite your shyness and innocence showed through whenever you'd politely tell Ransom to leave you be. And that surprised him a lot.

Because no one had been able to tell him to leave them alone. When it came to women, they would lunge themselves and kneel down at Ransom's feet, worshipping him as if he were God in the flesh. They would do all that just to get a taste of the infamous Thrombey Golden Boy. But you, you had asked him to leave you be.

"I'm working, Hugh. And I would gladly appreciate it if you don't distract me. I'd like to finish early I still have homework to finish." You'd say as you busied yourself by cleaning one of the guest rooms that was bigger than your apartment itself.

Ransom stood there silently and you worried for a moment as to why he hadn't said anything. Turning around to look at him, you saw him frozen on his spot but soon enough, he nodded his head briskly and left you in the room without a word.

But if he was being honest, what you said had offended him so much. That was the closest thing to "No" that he had ever received from a woman. And it drove him fucking crazy.

Oh but no, he wasn't going to give up. You were just playing hard to get that's all. Women love a good chase. And you were simply not going through your senses. Ransom was confident that soon enough, you'd realize just how lucky you are that he was even bothering on paying attention and pouring his time on a maid like you.

He could have any girl he wanted. Models, cheerleaders, business women, fucking porn stars and yet he was focusing on you. Sometimes Ransom forgets why he was even wasting his time but then he remembers that he doesn't take no for an answer.

You were beautiful, he admits that. You weren't a model nor were you an actress but you were beautiful nonetheless. Ransom was sure that you could turn heads whenever you walk in public. That was one of the reason why he seemed so hooked up on you.

But another was that you were unlike any woman he has met before. You were innocent but you weren't an idiot. He could see fire in your eyes and he sensed that you were the kind of woman that would easily carry herself. You didn't need a man by your side to help you. In fact, you didn't even need a man to make you happy.

And that kind of a whole new thing to Ransom. You were like the fresh apple in the forbidden tree. So ripe for the taking You were like a breath of fresh air to him. All the other women he had been with, they all seemed to want to depend on him. They all seemed as if they couldn't even stand on their own two feet.

But that wasn't you.

And Ransom realized you weren't playing hard to get. The real problem was that you weren't interested in him at all. It took him days to realize that. Days of silently persuading you to at least pay attention to him. Days of silently hoping you would fall into his trap just like all those girls he trapped back then. But no, it didn't work on you.

No matter how much he pretended to be nice, no matter how much he had tried to make a conversation with you, even trying to mellow down his attitude towards his family and the helpers, he just didn't stand a chance.

And that. Drove. Him. Insane.

Ransom couldn't have this, no. He had to have you. It wasn't something he wanted to do. It was something he needed to do. It was as if having you was something that his life depended on it. He needed to take you. Stake his claim and make you his. He had never wanted to claim someone so much as he did with you. You had that effect on him now.

All because you refused to let him have you.

The more you refused, the more he craved you. The more he got addicted. The more he got obsessed at the thought of finally having you writhing underneath him.

But that was just that, a thought. An imagination for him. A sick dream of his that made him wake up with a raging boner that pushed him to stroke his own throbbing member but not before he moans out your name from his lips.

That was, until it finally turned into reality.

The Thrombeys had thrown a little get together and almost all of them got drunk. Thankfully, you didn't have class tomorrow so you didn't mind staying in so late. You can just call a cab or stay in the maid quarters until you can go home. It was also your day off the next day anyways.

The wealthy family had finally retrieved to their respective rooms leaving you to clean up all the empty glasses and liquor bottles that were strewn all over the table. The Thrombeys really do get roudy when they're drunk.

Fran had to tend to Harlan because of Marta's absence. According to her, she had important matters to attend to and that left you with the duty and washing these glasses and putting them away.

You were finally finished with the task when you turned around and jumped when you saw Ransom leaning in against the doorway with a faint smile on his face.

"Jesus, Hugh, you scared me." You'd say, putting your hand over your chest making him chuckle as you walked out of the kitchen and into the dining room where you began to tidy up the table again.

"I told you, you can call me Ransom." He replied but you just sighed in response, refusing to call him that, not wanting to give him what he wants no matter how small.

"You should be in bed." You said already knowing he'd notice the change in the subject.

"So should you but here you are cleaning." Ransom walked over to you and placed a glass of champagne in front of you while another was in his hand.

"What's this?"

"Champagne." He answered as if you didn't know what was in front of you.

"I know but why are you giving it to me?"

Ransom let out a breath and traced the rim of the glass with his calloused fingers.

"You'd been working nonstop today, I thought you should treat yourself somehow."

You sighed, "Hugh, I can't take this. I can't drink while I'm working. Plus, it'd be inappropriate of me to drink with my employer's grandson."

"Oh, come on, Y/N. It's just one glass, it won't hurt. My grandfather even offered you some earlier. I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you drank one right now." He picked up the glass and pushed yours into your hands so you had no choice but to grab it or else, the glass would break and the drink would spill.

"Come on, just one drink. I promise it won't be that bad. And then I'll leave you alone to rest." Ransom smiled down at you and your gaze averted back and forth to him and the glass of champage in your hands.

Maybe one drink wouldn't hurt, right?

"Ugh, fine. Just one though, that's it." You replied, finally giving in and Ransom had to bite the inside of his cheek hard to keep himself from smiling too wide from what he heard.

He raised his glass to you with a smirk on his face, "To working hard and paying student loans."

You rolled your eyes at him but grinned at his words before you clinked your glass with his.

"To working hard and paying student loans." You said before you took a big chug of your drink, finishing it in one go and you had completely missed the way Ransom had looked down at you with a devilish look in his eyes as he drank his champagne the same time as you did.

You placed down your glass on the table and quietly thanked him for the drink. You walked passed him but Ransom stayed at his spot and finished his champagne and as if he timed it perfectly, he heard a thud on a floor that caused him to smirk in a sinister way.

The drug worked fast just like he knew it would. Usually it would take time but he didn't have the patience for that so he doubled the dosage. Ransom grabbed both your empty glasses and washed it neatly before he put it in the dishwasher.

He didn't want to leave any trace of evidence after all. But it wasn't like you were gonna tell anybody anyway.

Ransom came back to the dining room and gently picked you up in his big arms bridal style, making you look like a damsel in distress who just got rescued by a knight in shining armor. Except, it wasn't like that at all.

He quietly made his way upstairs, looking down at your face every once in a while. Grinning at how adorable you looked while you were unconscious in his arms.

Soon enough, Ransom had successfully walked into his room and placed you down on the bed gently. He walked by the door once again and made sure it was locked before he made his way to your sleeping figure once again and took his time to just admire your features.

He stroked your cheek gently as he took his time to appreciate your gorgeous body that was still clad in your clothing. And Ransom wanted nothing more than to rip everything off of you but he knew he had to wait until you woke up.

So instead, he pulled away and took his time by taking a bath.

Meanwhile, your eyelids were starting to flutter open, your body felt heavy and you couldn't even bring to at least move your fingers. God, what happened?

When your vision finally adjusted, you realized that you weren't in your apartment nor were you in the maid quarters. Where were you? Did you pass out? How'd you pass out?

But then you remembered. You were cleaning the dining room when Ransom came in and offered you champagne. And then you finally agreed to take a sip. After that, you passed out. Realization hit you like a truck and you willed yourself to at least sit up. It took some time and your body felt like jello as you did. As if every limb was asleep.

It was then that you realized that you were in Ransom's room. Why'd he take you here? Did he help you when you passed out? Why did you even pass out in the first place? Was it because you were exhausted? Or was it-

"Oh, you're awake." Ransom's voice caught your attention and you turned to see him walking out of the bathroom, his chest damp from taking a bath as droplets of water trickled down to his torso. He was only wearing a towel around his hips to at least hide his modesty.

You weren't blind to the fact that Ransom was indeed a handsome man. But looks didn't matter to you if the person was a complete dick. So you groaned and looked away, rubbing your temple as your head pounded quite a bit.

Ransom didn't like your reaction at all. Usually, women would gasp or at least their jaw would drop upon seeing him half naked in front of them. But you, you looked away. You didn't even blush. Nor did you at least stare at him.

Did you not find him attractive at all? No, that's not it. Maybe you were just distracted by the drug he induced inside your drink. You were just waking up from it after all.

"What happened, Hugh? How'd I pass out? I don't remember having a drink too many." You'd ask and carefully placed your legs down onto the floor as you now sat on the edge of the bed, not quite noticing how your skirt had risen up to the middle of your thighs.

"You didn't, yeah. Thankfully my dosage was right to just knock you out and not send you into a coma." He answered nonchalantly and your head shot up as you looked at him confused.

"Dosage? W-What are you talking about?"

Ransom rolled his eyes and slowly made his way over to you and you found yourself scooting further away from him while gripping onto the blanket right next to you.

You never noticed just how big he was compared to you. Not until now when he looked as if he was stalking his prey and he was the predator.

"You're really pretty, Y/N, you know that, right?" Ransom stood in front of you, his crotch leveling with your face but you were somehow thankful that he put his finger underneath your chin and tilted your head up to look at him.

"What are you doing, Hugh?" You asked him, your voice shaking quite a bit now as fear began to course through your veins. You knew Ransom had his moments and he had them a lot. But never did you realize he would get so... so aggressive. You were scared to say the least. Because then you never realized just how dangerous Ransom Drysdale could be until now.

"What am I doing? Oh, baby, I think I should be asking you that. You know, all this wouldn't have happened if you just spared a glance at me, you know? You walk around here looking all innocent with your head held high as if you didn't want my head in between those precious thighs of yours."

Your eyes widened, "W-What? What're you- Hugh, that's ridi-"

"Call me Ransom." He said, cutting you off as he gripped your jaw with his large hands, "God, do you even realize how much I fucking hate it when you call me Hugh?"

"But didn't you prefer the help calling you that?" You backfired but your voice seemed so weak. You wanted so bad to break away from him but you were afraid of what might happen if you did.

Was he armed? Would he hurt you? Would he... no, Ransom wouldn't do that, would he?

Would he?

"I do. But I can't let my best girl call me Hugh it... it really gets on my nerves, Y/N. Sometimes I think you're doing it on purpose. Just like how you haven't given into me all this time that I've been here. Tell me, were you playing hard to get? Is that what this is, you love the game of cat and mouse? You love the chase, hm?"

You were so confused. Why was he so round up? Why did he seem so angry? And what the hell did he mean by playing hard to get? Your thoughts were cut short when Ransom held your face harshly in his hands, looking down at you with dark eyes instead of his usual azure colored orbs.

This was a completely different Ransom. Hell, was this the real Ransom all along? Predatory and dangerous?

"I'm fucking asking you a question here, baby, I expect a fucking answer from you." His voice was deep, husky and it only sent shivers down your spine because of how scared you were right now.

"I don't understand what's going on, Hugh." You whimpered as your hands slightly began to shake on your lap, "I don't know why I'm here or what you mean by playing hard to get, I'm not playing hard to get, I'm not playing any games with you I was just doing my job."

Tears began to cascade down your cheeks and Ransom's face softened a bit. But he was shocked when he felt as if he was guilty for making you cry. He had made many women cry but he never felt any ounce of guilt before. Why'd he feel it when it comes to you?

Ransom shushed and cooed at you as he gently wiped your tears away with his thumb.

"Don't cry, doll. Well, as much as you look pretty when you cry, I'd prefer it if you didn't." He smiled before he crouched down in front of you.

"I just don't understand, Y/N. I did everything I could. I tried to act nice, I tried to help you around with your chores even if you'd tell me countless of times that you didn't need my help, I even convinced my grandfather to give you a raise because of how hardworking you are. Why did you think you were getting paid more than the other helpers around here, huh? I did all that and all you do to repay me was to pull away? That's quite rude, baby." He tutted and began to trace random patterns onto your thighs which made jump and push his hand away.

"See now, that's what I was fucking talking about. You always push me away. No matter what I do, no matter what tricks I have up my sleeve, you break away and dare I say I'm starting to lose my patience here."

He sighed and put his hand back on your thigh and you let out a sob as you couldn't push him away now. Your body still felt like jello you could hardly move your limbs properly. And you knew that if you break away, Hugh would catch you, it would be useless.

"I did all that I could to lure you in, to let you fall into my charms and let me have you but no, I guess all of that didn't work. Do you realize just how many women would kill to be in your place, hm? How they'd pay you millions of money just so they could replace you? And yet here you are, being so ungrateful. But I commend you, Y/N. You're the first woman to ever reject my advances. And as much as I fucking hated it, I'm impressed."

You brows furrowed as you finally put two in two together. That was all it was? All of this because you had wounded his large fucking ego? The fear on your face was replaced with anger and the fact that Ransom was looking at you amusingly didn't help at all.

"That was all this, Hugh? All of this, all the drugging that you did to me, all those pretentious acts that you pulled was all just because you could get me to sleep with you? All because you can't take no for answer? How fucking desperate and idiotic can you be?" You spat but it all happened so fast when Ransom suddenly slapped you across the face causing your head to whip up to the side.

His eyes widened as you turned back to look at him, your cheek now sporting a red mark. You were shocked. But you quickly gathered your composure and uttered words that caused Ransom to see nothing but red.

"I'd return the slap if I even took you as a man, Ransom." Ransom. You finally uttered Ransom from your lips. He should be happy you finally called him that. But his name accompanied by those words made something in him snap.

Ransom pushed you down on the bed and placed himself in between your thighs as his hand wrapped around your throat but not enough to choke you just tight enough to instill fear back in your body. Your skirt hiked up and Ransom smirked at the sight of your white cotton panties fully in display for him now.

Even your undergarments were as innocent as you.

"I've had enough, Y/N. You really pushed my limits now. Didn't your mother taught you how to respect your superiors, hm?" His hands rubbed your thigh up and down and before you could even reply, he quickly yanked down your skirt causing you to shriek but Ransom quickly silenced you as he put his large hand over your mouth.

"You should know better than to fight, doll. Make this easier for the both of us, will you? You have no idea how much I fucking hate it when someone tells me no. Especially when it's coming from you." Ransom brushed his fingers against your core causing you to jump a bit and squirm in his arms but held you firmly in place causing you to still down on the bed.

You eyes widened as you felt Ransom pushing your panties to the side before you felt his finger sliding up and down against your folds. Although you had masturbated quite a number of times, you were a virgin. You were untouched and made a promise to yourself to give your virginity to a man that loves you just as much as you loved him. Who deserves to have every part of you.

But instead, it was going to be forcefully taken away from you by Ransom. The grandson of your employer. The Thrombey Golden Boy. The devil in the flesh.

Your eyes were wide and filled with fear and Ransom liked that. He liked how powerless you were compared to him. He liked having the control he has on you now.

Slowly, he took his hand off your mouth but not before he gave you a warning.

"If you ever scream for help or even wake anybody up inside this goddamn mansion, I'll be sure to ruin your life and we don't want that, do we?" You instinctively shake your head no and Ransom seemed satisfied by your response.

"And if you ever tell anyone about this, I'll find out. And when I do, you'll be unemployed in the blink of an eye. Your degree gone in a snap. In case you didn't know, we Drysdales are stakeholders at your school. I can easily demand to get you expelled. And if you make me unhappy, I'll even fabricate a story about you. That's not something you want to happen, right?"

You couldn't believe it. You couldn't believe what you were hearing. And it doesn't seem so real. How could Ransom be so cruel? Did the vanity that was coursing through his veins finally fucked his head up? Or was he always like this? Always craved for power and control?

Your questions remained unanswered while you managed to give Ransom another meekly nod causing him to smirk.

"Good girl. See, you're learning. And good girls deserve a reward." You felt his fingers rubbing circles on your clit. You gasped and shook your head as if you silently told your body not to give into the pleasure he was forcing on you.

Your slit began to get slippery and Ransom cooed at how embarrassed you seem when you started to get his fingers all soaking wet.

"No need to be embarrassed, baby, it's just me. I'll take care of you." Tears streamed down your face causing your cheeks to get all blotchy but even then, Ransom still wouldn't budge. In fact, he found you beautiful when you cried. It made you look more innocent and pure. As if you needed to be dependent on him.

"You're getting so wet, sweetheart. You don't mind if I slip a finger in, do you?" Ransom didn't even give you anytime to answer before he slipped a finger inside your tight hole. You hated how a soft moan had escaped your mouth when he pushed it in.

"Oh, that's it, Y/N. Those are the noises I want to hear from you." Ransom pumped his finger in and out of your pussy and your cheeks heat up when you heard the sound of your own slick pussy. No, no, it shouldn't feel this good.

Your mind and body were at war. Your brain was screaming at you to push him away and scream for help but your body writhing against his hand as if you were begging him for more even if that wasn't the case.

Ransom looked at his glistening hand that was soaked with your juices and it only made his cock throb against the towel that was wrapped around his waist. Pulling his fingers away, you thought it was over until he ripped your panties off of you along with your blouse leaving you in nothing but your white laced bra.

You watched as Ransom licked his lips hungrily at you and it seemed as if the bra that was covering your breasts bothered him. So much so that he roughly pulled the straps down and reached behind you to unhook them with ease letting your tits be exposed to him.

You lifted your arms up to cover your chest while you pressed your thighs together but Ransom growled disapprovingly. He forced your legs open again and pinned your arms above your head with his hand as he stared down at you with his lust clouded eyes.

"Are you going to fucking behave or do you want to do this the hard way?" He spat and you felt so small as a quiet sob emitted from your lips while you stayed still.

"Good girl." Ransom whispered as he pressed a kiss onto your lips before pulling away.

"I think it's time I have a taste of you, baby. I hope you're as sweet as you look." Ransom spread your legs open and positioned his face in between your thighs. The towel that was wrapped around his waist had finally let loose and fell onto the wooden floor, letting his cock spring free.

Ransom gently blew on your pussy causing you to flinch. You lifted your head and shook your head at him.

"P-Please, Ransom... let me go, I won't tell anyone I just- Ransom!" You gasped when you felt his tongue laying flat on your cunt before he glided it across your clit. You propped yourself on your elbows and shook your head vigorously at him but Ransom held your legs in place, keeping them apart with his strong hands.

"Yeah, fucking watch me eat your pussy, baby." Ransom would say before he started to lap up your juices and even going as far as to tease your hole with his tongue by pushing it in and out of you before he paid attention to your throbbing clit.

You should've looked away. Looked somewhere else rather than the man that was in between your legs, tongue shoved up your pussy. But you can't. He looked so erotic while he sucked on your sensitive little bud. Is this how it feels to get eaten out by a man?

"Don't fight it, baby, just give in." Ransom would tell you as his fingers slid up and down your wet folds, getting them all lubed up before he pushed it up inside your pussy.

A whorish moan escaped your lips and you quickly put your hand up against your mouth to at least muffle the noises you weren't supposed to be making.

You hated this so much. You hated it because you were giving in. You hated it because it felt so damn good. You hated it because you found yourself wanting more.

You didn't plan on it but it was as if your body has gone on autopilot when you hips began to grind up against Ransom's mouth and fingers. Your hands finding its way to tangle themselves onto Ransom's hair.

Sinful moans escaped your mouth and Ransom moaned against your pussy as it was music to his ears. You tasted so sweet on his tongue and it only drove him crazier than he already was for you.

His personal little peach.

Ransom picked up the pace and curled his fingers up to hit your g-spot repeatedly while he was to busy sucking and licking on your clit. It was too much, it felt too good. Your eyes rolled at the back of your head as you felt the familiar pleasure boiling up in the pit of your stomach.

You were close.

"Fuck, baby, I can feel you getting close." Ransom moaned against your soaking wet pussy. You were sure his chin was glistening with your juices.

"No, no, no..." You chanted and shook your head as if you remembered that you weren't supposed to like this at all.

"Yes, yes, come on, baby. I know you wanna cum for me. Do it. Fucking do it." Ransom encouraged you and fingerfucked you harder as he pulled away, his thumb now rubbing circles on your clit in a fast pace.

He wanted to see you come undone for him.

"Do it, Peaches, do it. Be a good girl and cum for me." He ordered you and you were far too gone to tell yourself no.

"R-Ransom!" You turned your head to the side and bit down on the pillow that was right next to you to muffle your screams. You body convulsed underneath Ransom's as you came hard on his fingers. Your legs shook as avalanche of tears streamed down your face due to shame and the pleasure you felt.

Ransom was speechless. It was as if you were being possessed by a demon. You were shaking underneath him, moaning his name as if it was a prayer you had memorized. No one had came this hard for him. No one had been so wet for him before. It was you. It was all you.

He pulled his fingers away and as much as he wanted to lick it clean, he wanted to see how you'd look while you were sucking on something.

You fluttered your eyes open and looked up at Ransom when you felt his weight on your body. He held his soaking fingers against your lips with one demand for you.

"Suck." And even you didn't want to, you found yourself doing what you were told. You wrapped your lips around his fingers and sucked your juices clean off his fingers.

You knew you should've looked away. You knew you should've pulled away but instead, you looked deep into his eyes and swirled your tongue around his fingers, giving him a sneak peek on what you'd look like if you were to suck his cock.

Ransom was taken by surprise. You're naturally a tease. But as much as he wanted to let you suck on his cock, he knew he didn't have the patience for that yet. Instead, he positioned himself on the bed and threw your leg over his shoulder. Your eyes widened as you shook your head began to move away from him but Ransom only pulled back to where you were by your ankles.

"Don't misbehave now, Y/N, you were doing so good." His voice was dark, indicating how he disliked that you pulled away.

"Ransom, you don't understand, I'm inexperienced. Very different from the girls you've fucked, I... Please, let me go, you already made me cum." You pleaded but you could tell on Ransom's face that he wasn't having it.

"Please, Ransom... I'm a virgin, I-"

"You're a what?" Ransom asked, completely cutting you off.

"I'm a virgin." You repeated yourself, confident that Ransom would change his mind about all this once he finds out that you had no experience with sex.

But your confidence went as quickly as it came.

Ransom's face lit up as he leaned down to capture your lips in his, kissing you passionately. You wanted to pull away but he held your face in place as if he sensed you'd be doing exactly that.

Pulling away, Ransom smirked at you.

"How much more innocent can you be?" And with that, he threw your leg over his shoulder and began to line his cock up against your entrance after he slid it up and down to use your juices as lube.

"Ransom, no, it's not gonna fit- Ahh!" You shrieked and closed your eyes shut as the stinging pain shot throughout your body. You whimpered as Ransom cooed at you while he gently pushed his thick length inside your virgin hole.

He was stretching you out so much it felt endless. You let out a helpless sob when he finally bottomed out, his cock now fully deep inside of you. Ransom cupped your face and peppered kisses on your cheek and lips as if that would help diminish the pain you're in.

"You're so tight, Peaches, you fucking know that?" He groaned and stayed still as if any movement would cause him to spill his cum inside you.

"Ransom, please, I don't want this..." You pleaded yet again but Ransom's eyes darkened as he smirked down at you.

"You will." And with that, he began to thrust back and forth into you, his cock pumping in and out of your tight cunt. You gasped and expected there would be pain but there was none. Pleasure started to overtake your body once again and you realized you had finally adjusted to Ransom's length.

You shook your head, praying to whatever deity there was that existed to make this all stop. It shouldn't feel good, it shouldn't. But your body told you otherwise.

Ransom groaned and looked down to watch his cock go in and out of your cunt. The sight was mouthwatering. He remembered how he just dreamt about this but now it was real. And it was better than he imagined.

"Fuck, Y/N, you're gripping me like a vice. Ruining other bitches for me." He moaned and threw his head back, his mouth parted open as his brows furrowed.

Your breathing became uneven and you found yourself meeting Ransom's thrusts causing him to push deeper inside of you, making him hit your g-spot repeatedly. Sinful moans escaped your lips and you could no longer control what your body desperately needed.

By the look of how desperate you were to chase your own orgasm, Ransom was certain he has you now. He was certain that he had you wrapped around his finger. He was certain that you're all his.

"R-Ransom..."

"I know, baby, I know. Just a little longer, Peaches." He fastened his pace and licked his thumb before he rubbed your throbbing clit while he pounded your cunt. The action made you arch your back and your moans to get louder and you quickly put your hand over your mouth, not wanting to wake anyone up.

Either you didn't want to get caught and make Ransom stop or you just didn't want to face the consequences that he gave you if you got too noisy and alarmed everyone in the house.

"R-Ransom, I'm close, I'm-"

"Me too, baby, fuck! Oh God, I'm gonna fill your pussy up." He groaned and with one final thrust, he shoved his cock so deep up your pussy that you couldn't help but spasm around him once again, biting his shoulder as you screamed out in pleasure as you came hard.

"Holy shit, Y/N..." Ransom moaned as he felt you milking his cock up completely. You felt him shoot load after load of his cum while you shook underneath him.

When Ransom slowly pulled away, you couldn't help but cry silently as a sob escaped your lips. He used you. He used you for his own pleasure and you let him. You let him. And there was nothing you could do.

Ransom looked at you with pity. He knew you were still confused. Soon enough, you were going to thank him for the things he's done to and for you. He gently placed your body on the other side of the bed before he lied down and placed the duvet over your bodies.

"You did so good, Y/N. I'm proud of you. See? I told you it'd be easy if you just gave in." He smiled fondly at you and gently wiped the tear that slipped down from your eyes.

"You had me. You used me like a piece of fucking meat. Now will you let me go?" Your question made Ransom laugh out loud. It was rare for women to make him and somehow, you did it. You were truly full of surprises.

"Let you go? Oh no, Peaches, I think you're mistaken." His smile turned into a menacing one as fear began to spark up inside your body once again as he traced your bare shoulders with your fingers.

"I've waited for this moment for a long time. This is the longest chase I've done. And now that I have you, I don't think I'll ever let you go. Plus, you're quite the fighter. You were quite the challenge and I like that. From here on out, you're mine, do you understand?" Ransom gently pulled the blanket off your body as the cool breeze of air hit your skin. His fingers traced your erect nipples before his hand squeezed your breasts a bit.

"You." He pulled the blanket off of him.

"Are." Ransom spread your legs again and placed himself in between them.

"Mine." He whispered against your neck before he pushed his hardening cock back inside you again.

A monster.

That's what Ransom Drysdale was.

[crimson-snowfall]

Omg I only have a week break from uni too but I still have work to do that’s due as soon as we come back, my mental health needs more than 1 week to properly function again Can I request how Leo, Theo and comte headcanons on how they would be like with a kid, maybe the mc accidentally got pregnant and whoop now a toddler is In their life

Hi anon I notice a lot of TLC requests (Theo Leo Comte) and I’m starting to wonder if you’re that same anon or if these three just so happens to be a fan favorite. Anyway it’s okay I don’t mind I think it’s just kinda cute, but from now on I’ll endearingly call anons who request these three men the TLC anons.

Anyway I’ve been thinking about how these vampire would be like as a father and I sure am glad someone requested it. I gave names to their children to make this easier to write and as you can probably tell it’s just derived from their dad’s names one way or another except for Comte’s because that’s not his real name but let’s just go along with it

Ikevamp HC request: Theo, Comte, & Leo with a kid

Theo

Theo was incredibly surprised when you gave birth to Theophilus. For a moment, he got a little worried that you had an affair with his brother because the baby literally looks like Vincent; he has his uncle’s hair color and even got the lighter shade of blue of his eyes.

However, as soon as Theo took the baby from your arms so he can inspect him closer, the baby promptly frowned at his father, and that’s all it took to extinguish all doubt. There’s no mistaking it– the boy is definitely his, because there’s no way something from Vincent nor you can make a scowl as mean as that just a few hours after being born.

Personality-wise, Theophilus is just a little Theo who looks like Vincent. But even his father claims that he wasn’t even as mean nor as spoiled as his son when he was his age. He says this in the presence of his older brother, who just laughs it off.

Theo tries to be a doting father to his little Theo, but the boy seems to enjoy tormenting him. He’s declared war against his own father, claiming that he will never let him have you… completely ignoring the fact that you being his mother also means that you are his father’s wife.

Theo finds it ridiculous most of the time but enjoys bickering with his son. However, he tries his best not to give little Theo any reason to cry, because the boy likes to play dirty and would come fake crying to you the moment his father says anything that’s remotely mean.

Your devious son would then proceed to monopolize you for rest of the day under the pretense that he needs protection from daddy who’s been mean to him again.

Sometimes Theo still couldn’t believe his eyes, for never in his wildest dreams did he imagine that someone who’s a spitting image of his dear angelic brother could be so cunning and spoiled. Not to mention that Vincent barely showed any signs of immaturity due to the circumstances of their childhood, so Theo seeing his own son act so childishly by trying to steal you away from him is quite the sight for him.

The only time Theophilus openly shows affection for his father is when Theo offers him a piggyback ride. Little Theo completely forgets his one-sided rivalry with his father and even calls him the best dad in the world, something he would never say out loud under normal circumstances.

Comte

Comte couldn’t remember the last time he cried as he held his newborn daughter in his arms. Colette looks a lot like you, except for her hair color which she clearly inherited from her father.

As someone who’s been spoiled a lot by Comte, you thought you already have a good idea how much he’s going to spoil his daughter, but this doting father takes it to the next level. There are nights you’d have to drag him to bed because he’d go on for several nights without a blink of sleep just from watching his daughter sleep.

Much to your relief, Colette didn’t grew up to be a spoiled brat despite Comte relentlessly spoiling her. Instead, she inherited your modesty, but you could tell that she would grow into a fine young lady since she seems to have inherited her father’s distinct mannerisms that exude nobility.

Comte’s doting nature also made parenthood unbelievably easy for you; a good example would be whenever Colette cries, there’s a guarantee that Comte is already there by her side by the time you get there, wiping her tears and asking her what’s wrong.

One of Comte’s greatest worries though, is that his dear daughter never asked for anything. When you told him that there’s nothing else Colette could possibly ask for since he’s giving her nearly everything already, Comte insists that there must be still something that she might want.

Comte’s doting father case is definitely a hopeless one, and deep down you wish Colette never wishes for anything ridiculous like the moon even as a joke, because who knows what lengths her dear father might go through just for that.

Leo

You give Leo a son who takes after him a lot. He was silently wishing that you would give him a cute little daughter who takes after you, but your son is a proof of your love for each other so he cherishes him deeply as well.

Lionel likes his father a lot, and soon as he could walk and communicate, the boy is virtually inseparable from his dad. Leo is now rarely seen laying around anywhere the mansion since his son has basically locked him up in the library with him.

You often find both of them passed out in the library chairs every now and then though, stacks of books covering a wide array of subjects on the table. At some point you genuinely wondered if it’s about time you move in with them there.

Unsurprisingly, Leo is insanely lenient with his son. Lionel has inherited some of your sense and is not that much of a problematic child as you would’ve expected him to be if he had completely taken after his father, but sometimes it is Leo’s wild suggestions that puts both of them in rather awkward and/or dangerous situations.

Leo also tends to cover up for his son on the rare occasions the boy actually causes mischief by himself. At some point, Lionel asked his father if he’s what people would call a masochist.

“Cucciolo, you’ll only understand me once you find yourself a woman as wonderful as your mother.”

In case you’re wondering, I just looked up a list of Italian terms of endearment and just went along with “cucciolo” because with the rate of cara mias we get with Leo I highly doubt that he’s gonna call his son with his proper name either.

Btw my ask box is now closed (lol u could tell anyway cuz it’s gone). I got a ton of requests this vacation and uni starts again next week welp I didn’t even get the chance to watch an anime ;w; I’ll be opening it again once I’ve posted all the current requests in my inbox… and perhaps I’ll be updating the guidelines as well with regards to the schedule, university schedule is such a pain, and at the rate requests are flooding me soon it will be a several month’s wait before people actually get their requests. I might also start posting some status updates (more particularly on the publication schedule) of requests on my main blog @crimson-snowfluff … yea just maybe idk yet but I’ll try to let you know somehow.

[writerbyaccident]

Date Night: Part Three (Yandere ErasermicxReader)

Request: I just wanted to say that I love you Date Night Fics a lot! Will there be a part 3 of it? 😊😆😆❤️

Part One Part Two

           Night was falling quickly that evening, and most houses were blended easily into the darkness, their occupants out for a Valentine’s Day celebration. One house though, isolated and outside of the city proper, was alive with light and sound. Inside, two men worked diligently in the kitchen, the whole home filling with the tempting aroma of the dishes they were making.

           “Alright,” said Aizawa, “the chocolate-covered strawberries are in the freezer. What can I help you with?”

           “Well, the lamb still needs a little bit longer in the oven, you want to start putting the broccoli and rice into the dishes?” Hizashi answered as he peered into the oven.

           “Sure thing. Do you know if she’s left work yet?”

“Um, let me check,” Hizashi said, scrolling through his phone for the answer. “The tracker says she’s still at work, but she’s probably going to leave soon. And when she does, we’ll only have like twenty-five minutes before she gets home.”

“We can make it,” Aizawa said with a determined nod.

The next few minutes were pleasantly quiet as the sound of clattering dishes resounded throughout the kitchen, Aizawa moving the steaming sides to their bowls and covering them to ensure that they would still be warm by the time you came back home. He set them down gently on his and Hizashi’s round dining room table, being certain to make sure that they weren’t blocking the vase of pink magnolias and crimson roses that he and his boyfriend had so carefully chosen. The roses had been Aizawa’s idea, as he wanted a flower that would properly set the mood for this holiday dinner, and he found their deep, vibrant color a fitting representation of his feelings. Hizashi, by contrast, had chosen the magnolias, wanting to add something utterly unique and beautiful to match you. And together, he and Aizawa thought, the effect was breathtaking.

           When Aizawa reentered the kitchen, he saw Hizashi with his face practically pressed flat against the oven door. Smiling in amusement, Aizawa silently slunk up behind him, then suddenly darting forward to place a kiss on Hizashi’s neck. The blond jumped slightly at the unexpected touch, having been concentrating too hard to even hear his boyfriend’s approach, but soon melted in his arms.

           “You know,” Aizawa chuckled, “it’s not going to cook any faster if you stare at it.”

           “I know that. I just don’t want it to dry out, so I���m keeping an eye on it.”

           “I’m sure it’s going to be perfect,” Aizawa reassured him. At that, Hizashi turned to him, his eyes wide and anxious.

           “But what if it’s not?” Hizashi asked nervously. “What if we’ve done something wrong? What if she says no?” At the mere mention of that possibility, Aizawa’s stomach clenched and then spiraled downward, all the way down and past the kitchen floor. And even though Hizashi had already had the thought, actually saying it out loud had fishhooks piercing his heart and dragging it up to his throat. Seeing each other like that had both men squeezing the other tightly, just breathing for a moment until Aizawa finally spoke.

           “That’s not going to happen. We saved her. We’ve taken care of her for weeks now, protected her from Dabi and anyone else who would try to hurt her. We’ve shown her the love she really deserves. She can’t say no.”

           Hizashi sighed and gave a nervous grin.

           “You’re right, you’re always right, babe,” he said with a shaky nod. “I mean, really she’s already our sweetheart. We’re just making it official tonight.”

           It was true, both men thought to themselves. You were already theirs, they just needed to tell you that. So later that night, when the three of were finally sitting down to dinner, Aizawa and Hizashi forgot their worries in their lovesick excitement.

           “So how was work today?” Aizawa asked as he scooped some more rice onto your plate.

           “Oh, it was fine, just average,” you said with a tired smile.

           “I still can’t believe that they made you work on Valentine’s Day,” Hizashi muttered.

           “Well,” you laughed, “it’s not exactly a national holiday. And it’s not like I have a Valentine anyway.” At that, Aizawa flashed a stern look at his lover, warning him not to correct you just yet.

           “You haven’t seen any sign of Dabi, have you?” Aizawa asked, noting the way your eyes dimmed at your question. Now, he understood that everything that had happened was traumatic for you, but really, you should be glad that they had gotten that villain out of your life for you.

           “No, thankfully not,” you answered. “I don’t know if he actually cares enough about me to risk it.”

           “Well,” Aizawa said, “I’m glad he’s not mixing you up in his shit. You deserve so much better than that.” Hizashi nodded in agreement, and your cheeks heated at their concern. Really, these past few weeks had been so emotionally exhausting, you didn’t think you could have gotten through it without the two of them. They had opened up their home to you, had made you feel safe. They practically doted on you, providing everything that you could ever possibly want or need. And now—now they were even letting you intrude on their Valentine’s Day date. You hadn’t wanted to force yourself into their celebration, but they had insisted. In all honesty, Aizawa and Hizashi were probably the best friends you ever had.

           “Speaking of that though, I was thinking it’s about time for me to go home.”

           For a moment, Hizashi and Aizawa could only stare at you with disbelieving eyes.

           “What?” Hizashi finally responded with pure shock. “Why?”

           “It’s just that, well, it’s been weeks now. I haven’t seen the slightest sign of Dabi, and neither have either of you. I don’t think he’s going to try to contact me. And anyway, I feel bad about intruding into your home.”

           “You are not intruding!” Hizashi insisted as Aizawa took his hand.

           “Besides,” Aizawa added. “Dabi might just be waiting for you to leave.”

           “But—”

           “And we’d miss you!” Hizashi shouted over you.

           “I’d miss you guys too, but it’s not like we can’t see each other,” you reasoned. “We’d still be friends, right?”

           When you said that word—friend—Aizawa and Hizashi simultaneously squeezed each other’s hands tightly enough to make them go numb. Flashing a quick look towards each other, they made a silent lovers’ agreement.

           “But that’s the thing, sweetheart,” Aizawa started to say. “We don’t want to be your friends.”

           “What?”

           “We don’t want to be your friends,” Hizashi continued. “We want to be more than that with you. We love you.”

           Now it was your turn to be silent as their confession looped around and around in your mind. But with the two of them gazing at you so hopefully, it wasn’t long before you forced yourself to speak.

           “I—I’m sorry,” you began softly. “But I just can’t feel that way about anybody right now. What happened with Dabi, it—it really got to me, you saw how much it hurt me.”

           “We would never hurt you though,” Aizawa told you.

           “But I’m just not ready to be that vulnerable yet.”

           “Sure you are,” Aizawa said. “You have two men here who love you, who love you more than anyone else ever has. That’s all you need to be ready.”

           “I decide when I’m ready.”

           “Songbird, you’re just confused,” Hizashi said as Aizawa quietly slipped into the kitchen. “We know that this is a lot to take in, but taking this next step together is what’s right for all of us. We need to love you, and you need to let us.”

           “You’re not—”

           “Shouta and I can take care of you, we want to take care of you! You’ll never have to worry about anything again with us: not work, not bills, not villains, not anything! You would finally have the love that you deserve.”

           “I already said no,” you told as you began to stand from your chair. “I’m not going to say it again.”

           “And where are you going?” Aizawa suddenly asked from the dining room doorway.

           “I’m going to go back to my apartment and give you two a chance to cool down. Neither of you is making any sense.”

           “Really? Because you’re the one rejecting your soulmates.”

           “The two of you are not my soulmates.”

           “Of course we are,” Hizashi argued, tears beginning to fill his eyes at your stubbornness. When Aizawa spotted his boyfriend’s tears he frowned, extracting a syringe from his pocket and started to move towards you slowly and cautiously, the way one might with a spooked animal. As soon as you saw what he held in his hand, you tried to run for the door, only for Hizashi to immediately capture you in his arms. You writhed in his grip while Aizawa continued to approach you, and Hizashi nuzzled you comfortingly.

           “It’s alright, sweetheart,” Aizawa reassured you. “You’re just tired, you’re exhausted from work so you aren’t in your right mind.”

           “I told you that job was bad for you,” Hizashi grumbled into your neck.

           “Let me go!” you yelled. “Let me go or I swear—”

           “Ah, ah, songbird,” Hizashi lectured you as he held his hand over your mouth. “That’s no way to treat your lovers.”

           “Exactly,” Aizawa agreed. “So you’re going to have a little rest, and then hopefully in the morning you’ll realize just how foolishly you’ve been acting.”

           With that, Aizawa plunged the needle into your skin, both he and Hizashi ignoring your muffled pleas. The effects didn’t hit immediately, but soon enough you were melting into your captors’ arms, their touch the last thing you felt.

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[gb-fics]

Chocolate Mystery

Fanfiction:

Kiryuuin Shou x Kyan Yutaka (Golden Bomber)

Note: A chocolate mystery is like a murder mystery, just that the stakes are way lower. Have a happy Valentine’s Day! (^-^)

Valentine’s Day was a waste of time, that was Shou’s opinion on it at least. Especially since they still had so much to plan and organize until the tour started in March. Mere weeks and they would start their program with two shows per day, not knowing how that would work out at all. They had more important things to do than act lovey-dovey with someone.

Shou felt that way, because he was a responsible adult, to whom the fans were more important than anything else, and not because he didn’t have a significant other to spend the day with.

His bandmates were a different matter of course. Jun was spending Valentine’s Day with his family and Kenji hadn’t passed on a single opportunity to bring up the hot date he had secured for himself. Yutaka hadn’t bragged, but Shou knew, that he always had a date on Valentine’s Day. Most years, he wouldn’t shut up about it.

So, Shou was the only one sitting at home on his own today; not because he was sad and lonely, but because he was the only one dedicated enough to make the sacrifice to ensure their tour would work out as planned. He was angry at the others for leaving all the work up to him - as always. He wasn’t jealous, because Jun had already found the person, he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, nor because Kenji would certainly get laid tonight with these obscene good looks of his, nor because of Yutaka.

The doorbell interrupted his negative thoughts.

Shou furrowed his brows. He was not expecting anyone. Absolutely everybody he knew had better things to do today than show up on his doorstep. Didn’t people know it was Valentine’s Day? They were supposed to be smooching or canoodling, or whatever you did on this day when you weren’t Shou.

Suspiciously he went over to the door.

“Yeah?”, he asked over the intercom.

“A delivery for Kiryuuin Shou”, a male voice said.

Shou hesitated. He wasn’t expecting anything. He hadn’t ordered anything online lately and when he did, he usually used his real name, since it was the one showing up on the bills as well. But it wouldn’t be the first time he had ordered something to the office and then forgotten about it. The staff usually forwarded the packages to him using his stage name.

He buzzed up the delivery guy and opened the front door already, so he wouldn’t have to ring again at the apartment door.

The young guy coming up the stairs wore a blue jacket with a logo patched to the shoulder, that looked somewhat official, but clearly didn’t belong to the regular postal service. He carried a small white box in his hand that seemed too delicate and quite frankly too clean to resemble a regular package.

“Mr. Kiryuuin?”, he asked.

“Yes, thank you”, Shou said and bowed his head lightly without taking the box. “What is this?”

The delivery guy looked down at the box in his hands in honest confusion. He looked so young, Shou guessed he was a college student working parttime.

“Well, it’s chocolates”, he pointed out dumbfounded. “It’s Valentine’s Day. I’m working for this start-up. We offer a delivery service especially for today. So, people can send chocolates to their loved ones. I’ve got a delivery for you.”

Shou stared at the box as if it might contain something poisonous. He sensed a cold and hard knot forming in his stomach. It was a very unpleasant feeling.

“Who sent this?”, he asked.

The delivery guy shrugged apologetic.

“Well, you’re the one who has to figure that out, dude. No girlfriend?”

Slowly Shou shook his head.

“I want to know, who sent this”, he inquired. “Can’t you check your records?”

“No, sorry, can’t do. Most girls pay cash and don’t leave a name. It’s not necessary.” He shrugged.

“Do you know what’s inside?”, Shou wanted to know.

Now the guy furrowed his brow. He looked annoyed. He probably had other deliveries to make. Maybe he had a quote to fulfil.

“It’s probably chocolates. What else would it be?”

“What if someone sends a bomb?”, Shou asked.

The poor boy looked seriously troubled now.

“Why would anyone do that? We just deliver chocolates and flowers and stuff. Just take it.”

Briefly Shou considered to just outright decline it. But then, they would probably just throw out the box and he would lose every chance he had to find out who had sent it to him.

“Fine”, he said warily and took the box.

The guy held out a paper for Shou to sign and he did it absentmindedly, before he took the box inside with him. It really looked pretty and had doted ribbons wrapped around it, too. It seemed like something you would send your crush chocolates in on Valentine’s Day. Even if it were chocolates, it was still troublesome.

Shou placed the box on the kitchen counter and stared at it. He tried to breathe calmly. Just in case, he had locked the front door from the inside.

Whoever had sent him this box knew where he lived. A strange person – someone, who could literally be anyone – knew his address. They could be watching the building right now. There was nothing scarier than an anonymous present send to your private address, when you were a celebrity.

No matter how much Shou tried to fight it, he felt the panic rising in his chest, the anxiety drilling his stomach. He remembered all the trouble it had caused, when his address had gotten leaked the first time: The rushed moving, having to find a new place within a short period of time, organizing the transport of the furniture, while not being able to stay at his own apartment. He had crushed on Yutaka’s couch for more than a week and even after he had finally moved, Yutaka had needed to stay over the first night with him, because he had felt too tense to fall asleep alone at the new place.

More than the stress of moving, it was the feeling of being unsafe at a place that was meant to be his home – his safe space – that Shou dreaded. He didn’t want to go through it again. Constantly scared that someone was staring up to his window, while he packed up his things, scared to leave in the evening, because someone might be waiting on the street for him. Honestly, it had taken Shou months to settle into his new apartment. He still made jokes about being pissed, because someone had forced the trouble of moving upon him, but truth was, that even now, years after, he still felt his chest tightening occasionally whenever he came home late in the evening, not being able to shake the feeling of someone watching him as he unlocked the front door.

He turned around and drew the curtains, although his apartment was up too high for anyone to look in through the window anyway. Instead, he switched on the light overhead and felt a little bit calmer instantly.

He was still anxious, but at least the panic didn’t make him want to throw up anymore.

He considered taking the box over to the next police station. Maybe there were fingerprints on it. Maybe they could send someone back home along with him to watch the door to make sure no creepy stalker was sneaking around his neighbourhood while he slept.

But then the police might just laugh in his face, because a box of chocolates on Valentine’s Day wasn’t exactly much to go by. And he didn’t want to risk any publicity, before he had talked to the management. But could he really call them right now? It was Sunday and everyone was out of office, on Valentine’s Day for sure. Not that he wouldn’t be able to reach anyone, but he would feel bad for bothering them today. It would be better to inform everyone on Monday. No one had dropped dead animals on his doorstep after all. He probably wasn’t in any acute danger.

He really needed to talk to someone, though. Even if it was just to calm himself. Someone, who would understand and who was also affected, because a threat to Shou posed a threat to the entire band of course.

Shou took up his mobile and was about to dial Yutaka’s number, when he stopped short.

Would Yutaka really be okay with it, if he just called him now? He would probably scold Shou for bothering him. On Valentine’s Day moreover, when he had a date for sure. A small, mean part of Shou wanted to call him even more so. It would be the perfect excuse to ruin Yutaka’s date and take his revenge on him for being out having fun, when Shou was sitting home alone, working on the tour for all of them. But then he knew that he would never bring himself to be that much of a jerk. No matter how bitter he was, he didn’t want Yutaka to suffer because of his pettiness. The same went for Kenji, actually. He couldn’t call either of them and disturb their dates for selfish reasons. After all, they might be out with their future spouse this very moment. He couldn’t risk their chance of finding the right person.

So, he called the only person, who already had.

“Hello?”, Jun said after the fourth ring.

“Hey, Jun, it’s me, Shou”, Shou muttered.

“Oh, what’s up?”, Jun sounded tense, as if he dreaded the answer. Maybe he was scared Shou would make him work on his day off.

“I got Valentine’s chocolates”, Shou said. “That means, it’s supposed to be chocolates. It’s really just a white box. And I’m completely freaking out. I mean, it was an anonymous delivery. Jun, I think my address got leaked. Some crazy fan found out where I live and sent me this box and now, I’m not sure, if I should call the management or go to the police or …”

“Shou, calm down”, Jun interrupted him.

Shou took in another deep breath, trying to remind his body that he was not in physical danger right now.

“I’m scared”, Shou said quietly.

“You’re just being paranoid”, Jun said. “Those chocolates could be from anyone.”

“Exactly!”, Shou agreed.

Through the phone he heard Jun sigh.

“I just mean, they could be from the office. Or from someone you know. Have you opened the box yet?”

“Hell, you think I’m crazy?” Shou’s voice sounded too high-pitched in his own ears. “I’ve been sent teeth in the mail before. Fucking teeth. And those were sent to the office. Someone, who is crazy enough to sent it to my private address could be sending a severed ear, or a poisonous spider or whatnot. There is really no way I’m going to open this box.”

“You should just open it”, Jun said. “Didn’t you talk to the others yet?”

Shou stayed silent for a moment, clenching the phone tightly in his hand. He knew that Jun was really just asking about Yutaka, because he was always the one, whom Shou called first.

“I didn’t want to disturb them on Valentine’s Day”, he admitted weakly.

“Oh, but you could disturb me?”, Jun asked huffily.

“A sudden phone call can really ruin a first date”, Shou pointed out. “Your wife is not going to divorce you, just because you picked up the phone.”

Jun sighed once again.

“Okay, Shou, whatever you do, don’t take the box to the police, before even knowing what’s inside. I don’t think you should bother the management with it today either. Just take a look inside and if it’s something weird or dangerous, call me again and we’ll work it out. Okay? Just try to stay calm.”

“You’re just going to hang up on me like that?”, Shou assured in disbelief. “While my life might be in grave danger?”

“Well, it is Valentine’s Day”, Jun reminded him. “So, I’ve got to go. Open the damn box. Talk to you later.”

“Thanks for nothing”, Shou mumbled into the speaker, but the dial tone told him that Jun had already hung up. His bandmates really were useless.

He eyed the box again. Was Jun right? Was he overreacting? Maybe he should just brace himself and open the box. Not that he was going to eat the chocolates, if there were any inside. They might be poisoned. Or filled with a magic love portion. Or make him go bald. But at least he would know for sure what was inside the box.

He shook his head. No, he couldn’t do it. He just wasn’t brave enough. He needed to calm down first.

Turning his back on the white box as if he could trick it into thinking he didn’t care, Shou started pacing the apartment. He wasn’t sure if the movement actually helped to calm himself, but at least it gave him the feeling, that he was doing something. He stayed clear of the windows, though. You never knew who might be watching.

He got out his phone and checked it, although he didn’t know what for. He wasn’t expecting any calls.

Catching some fresh air would be nice. It would certainly relax him to go for a walk outside. But he didn’t dare to leave the apartment. He felt the anxiety rising in his chest almost physically. Moments ago, he had still considered consulting the police, now he couldn’t image going out on his own anymore at all. Eventually he would need to get new groceries. Maybe he could order something online? But how would he known whom to answer the door safely?

Shortly Shou closed his eyes.

His fears were getting irrational now. Maybe it would be better to stay inside today, but even if the box turned out to be from a creepy stalker fan, the management would come pick him up by tomorrow the latest. For that, he really needed to check what was inside the box, though.

There was really no point in avoiding it. He had to take a look inside, before he drew any conclusions. And really, how bad could it be? He had received teeth in the mail before and he had survived that, although it had freaked him out quite a bit. There was a fair chance it wouldn’t get worse than that, even if the circumstances were more frightening this time.

He went back over to the box and stared at it challengingly. It was just a box presumably filled with chocolates. It would not get the better of Shou.

Hesitantly he reached out.

The doorbell rang.

The sound was so loud and unexpected, that Shou flinched so hard, he hit his arm against the kitchen counter. He winced.

Who might that be? The stalker themselves? Were they testing him? Playing mind games?

But then, the explanation didn’t have to be so dark. Maybe Jun had changed his mind and come over to check on Shou. Quite a bit of time had passed since their call. Enough time for him to get here, if he hurried.

Shou walked over to the door and turned on the intercom.

“Yes?”, he asked warily.

“Buzz me up, you fucking moron”, a familiar voice shouted through the speaker.

Shou felt his whole body relaxing instantly. It was alright now. He didn’t know why Yutaka had shown up at his apartment, but it didn’t matter. Important was only that he was here now and just hearing his voice made Shou feel almost safe again.

He pressed the button to allow Yutaka into the building. This time, he waited before opening his front door, though. He stood behind it, until he heard Yutaka’s aggressive knocking. He never rang the doorbell like a normal person, but had to use his fist as if he was trying to pick a fight with the door.

Shou unlocked the door and yanked it open. The desire to just throw himself into Yutaka’s arms was almost overwhelming. He just wanted to be held for a moment, he just wanted to no longer feel alone but physically safe, and it would have been his reaction with any of his acquaintances showing up on his doorstep right now. Yutaka wasn’t special.

Yutaka’s facial expression stopped him short, though.

The lines showing on his forehead made him look grumpy, but he kept his eyes on the floor as if avoiding Shou’s gaze, which was pretty weird for someone, who usually never dodged a confrontation.

“What are you doing here?”, Shou asked.

Yutaka exhaled soundly and he finally looked up. He seemed oddly relieved, as if he had expected a different greeting.

“Jun called me to give me a heads up. He told me your paranoid ass was stressing over Valentine’s chocolate.”

Shou waved him in and made sure to lock the front door again. It made Yutaka roll his eyes visibly.

“It’s just weird”, Shou defended himself. “How would anyone know my private address? It’s scary they were delivered here.”

“The only thing weird about it is that anyone would send you chocolates to begin with. What a strange choice”, Yutaka muttered and went into the apartment without waiting for a proper invitation. He moved like he was at home here, too. “What’s with the curtains?”

Without waiting for an answer Yutaka went over to pull them open and let the daylight in again. He remained standing next to the window.

“Shut them again”, Shou asked. “I’m worried someone might be watching the apartment.”

“God, Shou, it’s probably someone you know. That’s how they knew your address. That’s the most reasonable explanation and what any normal person would assume first.”

Shou didn’t know why Yutaka sounded this angry. He usually had an aggressive way of talking, but at least with Shou he was normally patient. Maybe he was annoyed that Shou had ruined his Valentine’s date. The thought made him feel giddy and gleeful inside, but he tried not to pay attention to it. He was happy that Yutaka had chosen him over his date, but not in an inappropriate way.

“If they know me, they could have given the chocolates to me in person”, Shou said. “If we’re speaking of what a normal person would do.”

“Maybe they were scared of your reaction”, Yutaka said and crossed the arms in front of his chest. It looked funny how he remained standing next to the window instead of sitting down anywhere.

“If they knew me, they should have considered, that it would frighten me this way”, Shou insisted.

He smacked his lips, angry at Yutaka for scolding him instead of offering him the comfort he craved. But then he reminded himself, that Yutaka had probably given up on his date to be here in the first place and he should be less strict with him.

“Maybe they are just stupid”, Yutaka answered, his voice a lot louder than it had to be. “They have to be for liking you in the first place.”

“Why aren’t you on your date?”, Shou asked.

“My date?” Yutaka sounded so baffled, that he forgot to shout this time. “Who told you I had a date?”

Shou shrugged uncomfortably. He didn’t want Yutaka to think he had spent a lot of time picturing him on a date or anything.

“I just assumed”, he said vaguely. “That’s why I called Jun and not you. You always have a Valentine.”

Yutaka sighed.

“Well, this year I don’t. I messed up big time.”

“That doesn’t surprise me”, Shou mocked, more cheerful immediately. “I’m just surprised it never happened before.”

Yutaka gave him a dry smile and nodded over to the box.

“Now, just open the goddamn box already, so we can put that behind us. Whoever sent it probably left a note inside.”

Shou looked at him dumbfounded. He had to admit, that he hadn’t really thought of that yet. Just because the delivery boy hadn’t been able to give a name, he had assumed the box had been sent anonymously. He hadn’t really considered, that it might contain an actual confession.

“Alright”, he agreed sheepishly and turned towards the box. He waited for Yutaka to join him.

He didn’t.

Shou looked up. Yutaka had turned his back on him and was looking out the window as if he didn’t care at all, what Shou was up to. He had lowered his arms again and seemed unable to decide what to do with his hands. That was unusual for him. Normally Yutaka seemed very much at ease with his own body. Briefly Shou considered, that in spite of his dismissive words, Yutaka wasn’t entirely convinced that nothing horrible was inside the box either. Maybe he was also scared of Shou finding a severed ear inside and just tried to act tough to not worry him any further. He had the habit of acting more chill than he really was, just for Shou’s sake.

“Are you just going to let me do it alone?”, Shou asked incredulous.

“What do you want me to do?”, Yutaka asked and scoffed. “You need me to hold your hand?”

Shou felt his cheeks heating up and he lowered his gaze onto the box fast. Actually, he thought that it would feel nice, if Yutaka held his hand to comfort him, but he wasn’t going to admit that out loud.

“Of course not”, he said quietly and reached out to undo the ribbons around the box. With Yutaka by his side, he felt a whole lot braver than before.

Slowly he lifted the lid of the box.

There were chocolates inside indeed. Small, dark pralines that looked like they had been purchased from an actual chocolatier. The expensive kind.

Yutaka had been right about the note, too. On top of the chocolates sat a folded piece of white paper.

Shou took it up and unfolded it. His heart was beating very quickly. He felt scared, but strangely enough not in a dreadful way. He felt nervous.

His eyes fell onto the handwriting.

Shou, the note read. No “dear” or “beloved”, that would indicate a confession. The Valentine’s note started like an announcement. I don’t like admitting this, but I have romantic feelings for you. Since no one else will want you as their Valentine anyway, would you be mine?

The note was signed, too.

Shou put it back down onto the kitchen counter and licked his lips.

“You gave me a scare, idiot”, he said and looked up.

“I didn’t know you wouldn’t even open it”, Yutaka said and finally turned around to face Shou, although they were still several metres apart. “I’m sorry, though. I came here to miniate the damage. I wasn’t meaning to scare you.”

Shou nodded slowly. Yutaka looked lost as if he didn’t know what he was doing at Shou’s apartment any longer.

“Apology accepted”, Shou said.

“You don’t seem surprised”, Yutaka observed.

Shou smiled.

“Well, when you pointed out that the sender would have to be extraordinary stupid, I kind of figured. After all, you’re the dumbest person I know.”

“Alright”, Yutaka said and clapped his hands together. “I just wanted to assure there was no reason for you to be scared. Your address didn’t get leaked. You can sleep peacefully tonight. So, now that that’s settled, I’ll be on my way.”

He finally took a step away from the window to move towards the front door.

“Don’t you want to hear my answer first?”, Shou wanted to know.

Yutaka stopped short and looked at him wide-eyed. His face seemed to mirror the fear Shou had felt only a short while ago. Finally, Shou understood how much he had needed to overcome himself to show up here and face Shou, while he opened the box. He must have wanted to comfort Shou badly, if he was that scared of his reaction and had come here anyway. But then, it was very much like Yutaka to put his own worries behind himself only to take care of Shou – while being a total jerk about it at the same time.

“I think I better … I should …” Yutaka pointed towards the door helplessly. He looked like he wanted to just run out the door, before Shou could answer; like an animal in flight mode.

“Yes”, Shou interrupted him hastily to put him at ease. “Yes, I do want to be your Valentine.”

“Really?” The word came out incredibly soft and the tension disappeared from Yutaka’s shoulders visibly.

“Absolutely”, Shou confirmed and walked over to the window. Yutaka still looked like he could need some comfort. “I’m so happy the chocolates were from you.”

Gently he reached out and put his hands against Yutaka’s neck.

“I’m happy too”, Yutaka whispered.

Shou leaned in and rested his forehead against Yutaka’s. He sensed his body relaxing instantly. Being this close to Yutaka put him at ease like nothing else.

“I’m happy I’m no longer in danger of getting arrested by the police for having shitty taste in men”, Yutaka clarified.

Shou chuckled.

“And I’m happy that I won’t have to move”, he said. “It’s such a hassle.”

Yutaka laughed quietly. Shou sensed his body trembling softly against himself. The sound of Yutaka’s laughter made him feel safe. He leaned in and kissed him right in front of the window.

He didn’t even care to draw the curtains first.