#at any given moment I’m thinking about him

[kithtaehyung]

holiday (3tan special) | myg

title: holiday  pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f)  series: masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball | stay | sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit | flutter | video call | busted | broken (pt. 1) | broken (pt. 2) | lollipop rating/genre: pg (18+) ; fluff ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au, holiday au summary: from what you can gather, holiday gift exchanges are supposed to be pretty straightforward. but this one quickly escalates. because no one can follow directions. note: this is all thanks to the person that suggested a 3tan crew secret santa! they don’t do actual secret santa, but they do host a gift exchange. so enjoy this speedily but still tenderly written holiday special! i wanted to get it posted asap so that we could all have it during the holiday season. hope it helps lifting spirits in any way<3  warnings: yoongi looks like sin, but reader does too🤭, kissing, no one follows directions, but especially jimin, hella kissing, no fr jimin is chaos incarnate, sibling holiday woes, tense situations, tender moments, gift exchanges, dialogue heavy i’m so sorry, also not too edited i'm sorry again sdfkljdskl. reader is adorable y'all i wanna cry, 3tan crew being wholesome af drop date: december 27th, 2024, 8:37pm est word count: 8.1k bc i love y’all???

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“Wait… I’m in this, too?” 

Your brother winces while checking his phone, probably also seeing the texts that Jimin sent to a freshly created group chat. “Tae and Chim roped us in this time. But it’s cool if you don’t wanna.” 

As you both don work attire in your foyer, you shake your head, one hand firm on your bag strap, “I don’t even know how they work.”

“I think we random draw names. Then just give a gift to whoever we get.” 

Seeing the names and numbers in here, you’re already running through a lot of possibilities. Maybe too many possibilities. But you don’t wanna make things more complicated or awkward, so you quickly concede, “I mean.. I’m down if you are.”

“I guess it’s cool.”

Head lowered, you notice that your brother’s shoes are the ones you gave him for his birthday a couple years ago. Because those days are the only ones you both celebrate every passing run of three hundred and sixty-five. “At least we’re doing something this year.” 

He chuckles to his feet. “Two years in a row.” 

Your sad laugh tumbles and rolls next to his. “Wild.” 

“Hey.” When he pauses, it’s to wait for you to look up. “If you ever wanna talk about it, we can.” 

There are a lot of times in which you dismiss your brother. Because it’s just what siblings do. 

This time is not one of them. 

“Same,” you offer, the weight of the world dragging your smile down. 

He gives you a hug, and you feel the luxury press of his suit as you lean in with scrunched brows. 

Two years in a row. 

Maybe things do suck less with time. 

When you both head out the door to your cars, you wonder if your brother knows how much you appreciate him and his friends for including you in things. Even if you don’t show it as much as you need to. 

Guess this time of year is a good place to start. 

Work drags in the wake of oncoming holiday. 

But you’re learning to appreciate the decorations around the office, including the little cards that coworkers have given you at your desk—despite your many protests that they didn’t have to. 

When you look up, you start to notice other things. Like the way people smile just a little more. Or the way peppermint and cider waft around the building, smelling of sweet instead of spice. 

You wonder if Jungkook has decorated the studio, too. Or if he recruited everyone else to help with decorations, which means that Yoongi and the guys had to fuss with lights and whatever else people spend money on.  

Laughing to your many stacks of papers and documents, you start daydreaming of what it would be like to decorate the house.

Would you and your brother do it someday? You do admit that it’s kinda nice to look around the neighborhood. And when you went into the mountains last year, you concede that the surrounding town decor was pretty inviting. 

Maybe your house would be a little brighter on the inside too if you both just…

You get a notification on your phone. When the screen brightens, you see that it’s for the app that shuffles you all for the gift exchange. 

You have no fucking clue what you’re doing.

But here goes.

Opening and hoping you get someone that’s easy to please, you stare at your device and blink a few very hard times. 

And after every time, you still get a name that has your heart quickening faster than reindeer working overtime. It’s reindeer, right? You think that’s cor—

“You okay?” 

Snapping your head up, you notice that one of your coworkers stopped mid-stride to check on you. Staring at his candy cane tie, you try not to be distracted as you slightly cringe, 

“What do I get a guy for the holidays?”

“Friend or lover?” 

Well, that was not what you expected to hear! 

When your jaw unhinges, you’re quick to snap it back into place. “Umm.” 

“Oh, this is juicy,” he perks up, quickly settling into a nearby chair and resting a strong chin in his hand. “Tell me more, I got time.” 

Laughing, you shake your head while pretending to type on your computer. “Nothing to tell.” 

“That means you got a whole lot.” His eyes are way too shiny right now! “But alright, I’m gonna assume both. In which case, I suggest something nice.” 

“Something nice?” 

“You know, like. Nice nice.” 

“It’s for a gift exchange, though,” you slump, hands stopping on the keys. Looking at his whole holiday ensemble, you divulge, “The money limit’s definitely not enough for nice nice.” 

“Then fuck the limit?” 

Your answer is more of a sound than a word. 

But he does get you to consider, even if just for a little bit. “Maybe…” 

“Fuck the limit,” he advises again. “He’s gonna dig that. Especially since everyone will see it.”

Your face falls from the snowy sky. “Everyone?” 

“Uhh, yeah? You said gift exchange, right? Everyone sees what everyone gets.” 

“Oh. Right,” you pretend to agree to your computer. Because no, you actually didn’t know that. “Guess it’s been awhile.” 

“Well, that’s what makes it fun! Good luck.”  

While you would normally agree, you have a whole hoard of conflicting feelings. Because while seeing Yoongi’s name on your screen is enough to get you giddy as hell, you know there’s a couple people that may not share the same sentiments. Especially if you gift him something nice nice. 

In front of everybody.

However… 

As your striped and jingling coworker strides away with a hum, you drum your fingers on your minimally decorated desk. 

Maybe there is a way you can finess this. 

After a few weeks, the day has come for not just one exchange, but two—your friends also decided to have your own. Because it’s the easiest format, you convinced them with logic, seeing their shock at you being the one to suggest the exchange in the first place. 

When they asked if you were sure, you assured them that it was okay. And the way they all brightened told you that you made a sound decision. Even if they still seemed hesitant, you know it’s because… 

You’ve never done this. 

So as you observe everyone in your bare living room, you start to see how their presence alone illuminates the space, with gifts in shine and glitter painting the area in holiday colors. 

This is nice. 

“So… Uhh.” You clear your throat, watching everyone look at you at the head of your coffee table. “How do we do this?” 

They all laugh before Taehyung explains, “So one of us goes first and says who we got before giving the gift—you can sit, you know.” 

In the midst of more teasing, you settle onto the floor while exclaiming, “I’m nervous, okay! This is really new to me.” 

“You have a gift to give, right?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Then you’re already doing great,” Reia assures, and you’re even more excited to give yours away. Because you drew her name. 

But before you can say that, Taehyung continues, “So after someone gets their gift, they announce who they picked, and so on.” 

“Pretty straightforward,” you observe. “I wanna go first!” 

Dom cackles, “You just wanna get it out of the way.” 

“And?” you question, grinning when you shoot up and grab your very amateurishly wrapped bag. “Okay, okay, I got…”

“This is adorable,” Yuri cuts in, and everyone’s agreement makes you suddenly shy. 

“No! Don’t make fun.” 

“We aren’t!” Taehyung reaches out to rub your leg. “Promise. Who’d you get?” 

“I got… Reia!” You exclaim, raising your bag a bit as she yells with everyone. The sudden raise of noise gets you a little shocked, but hyped nonetheless. And maybe a bit nervous that your gift won’t live up to the excitement. “Sorry about the wrapping job.” 

“What are you talking about, this is so good,” Reia soothes, smiling wide as she delicately takes out the folded paper. “Wow, the wrapping is nice?” 

Dom chimes in as she leans in, “Yeah, this is too good. Did you watch videos?” 

“Uh huh.” 

Everyone laughs again as you keep your nose held high. Because sucky or not, you were not gonna half-ass your first ever gift exchange. With seasoned people, at that. No way. 

When Reia opens the gift you carefully picked while perusing through a local music store, you watch with the anticipation of a small child, eyes wide and waiting. Hoping that the best outcome is the real outcome. 

And when she quietly yells behind her hand, everyone cheers while asking what she got. When she turns the package around, they cheer even more, because it’s a guitar pick set in her favorite colors. And one that you knew was so, very much her. 

She stands up immediately and opens her arms for a hug, and you blink before getting lovingly crushed. 

“Thank you,” she whispers in your ear. “This is more than great.” 

“Of course, babe,” you murmur back, feeling her jean jacket under your palms and a beating in your chest. “Thank you, too.” 

The rest of the exchange goes off without a hitch, with you cheering with everyone and understanding the cues more and more. Everyone’s gifts are wonderful, and Yuri’s the last to go out of the five of you. 

And she got your name. 

You figured giving the gift would be the hardest part. 

But somehow, this part is a lot harder. 

Braving it anyway—because there’s ironically no time like the present—you carefully unwrap the thin package and stare at what’s inside. 

It’s a photocard. But the picture is of the five of you, one that Taehyung took with his long ass arms while the four of you huddled behind him with drinks in hand. Around its edges are stickers, hearts and stars and cute little animals. 

And it’s the most precious thing you’ve ever seen. 

You don’t even realize you’re crying until Yuri rushes over to ask if you don’t like it. 

“This is the best thing ever,” you choke out, and she smiles before laughing and tearing up, too. “I love us.” 

“We’re the best, duh.” 

“Got that right,” Dom adds to the air while Reia and Taehyung start cleaning up the wrapping scraps. “You like your first gift exchange?”

“I should’ve joined y’all sooner.” 

“Joined us?” Taehyung looks up from the ground. “What do you mean?” 

“Oh. I figured you guys do this every year.” 

Tae looks at Yuri, who then looks at you again before very seriously admitting, “We’ve never done this, either. Not with each other.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah.” She taps the back of your now most precious, most coveted photocard ever. “We didn’t even think about it since you wouldn’t be there.” 

Smiling at your prized possession, you vow, 

“I’ll be here now.” 

Regarding all of them, you start to decorate your place in your mind. Seeing where all the lights go. Where all the little trinkets hang, or whatever. You don’t quite know how this goes just yet, but you do know there’s trees involved. So that’s gonna be figured out in a year’s time. 

“I’m not missing this again.” 

With bellies full of laughter and a little bit of cider, you and your friends head over to Jimin’s cul-de-sac. 

Dom took the wheel this time, so you get to stare out the passenger side window, eyes reflecting golds and colors as you take in the surrounding lights. 

Were they always this pretty? You don’t remember being so taken by electricity and staggering electric bills, especially the houses that go all out and cover every nook of their yard in lights. 

But it’s a spectacle on every corner and street, and Jimin’s little half circle of houses keeps the holiday illumination alive. 

“Uhh, I think we can park down there,” you point, noticing there’s some space a little bit beyond the street. It’s alarmingly next to where Yoongi had to park once, and you cherish that memory with stars in your eyes. 

“Everyone have their gifts?” 

“Tae, if anyone lost theirs on the way here, we have other issues.” 

It’s a quick walk to Jimin’s, and the music around the house gets louder as you approach his entrance. There are people already set up in his open garage playing what you assume are card games, and everyone greets your group as you pop in to say hi. 

“Hey!” Namjoon calls. “Y’all are late! Everyone’s inside.” 

“We had our own party first,” you call out, struggling with your gift bags and food tray. “Can someone—”

Before you finish your ask, you smell nice cologne and feel a big presence at your side. 

When you look to see who’s assisting, you slow in your motions before uttering a small,

“Thank you.” 

Jungkook slightly smiles as he grabs your last bag. “Your perfume’s nice,” he compliments behind tousled bangs. Which makes you blink because that comment is more than hard to come by from him. 

So you can only grin. “Just got it,” you explain as you follow your friends inside the house. “It’s a dupe, can you believe it?” 

“Damn! It’s a good one.” 

“I know,” you agree, very proud of your find. Taking the gift bags from his hands, you tilt your head. “Can you bring the tray to the kitchen?” 

“On it.” 

When you make your way to your friends at the front area, they all eye you with concern. But you wave it off and shrug off your coat to hang on the loan coat hanger—earning teasing and whistles.   

“Shut up,” you groan, laughing with everyone before straightening the reason for the noises. It’s a dress you’ve been eyeing specifically for holiday parties. Because as soon as you started to shop for your gift exchanges, that quickly spiraled into shopping for outfits to wear to them. Did your coworker spook you into looking good because it was a public event? Maybe. Absolutely. 

So you shopped around before finding a dress that even you knew you looked good in. And the past couple weeks were the longest stretches ever because of your anticipation to wear it again. 

As you and your newest fit walk into the kitchen, you start to greet everyone, giving them hugs and smiling bright at their compliments. Because you feel good. You feel nice. Maybe you’re just drinking the holiday cheer and letting it consume you but you don’t care because it’s fun this time. This isn’t like any other year, and it’s wonderful. 

But then. 

Even the most wonderful moments have to come to a halt. 

And yours crash when you see Yoongi. 

Leaned back on one of the kitchen counters, his body appears relaxed in another damn black button-up, telltale silver chain hanging from a neck you wanna devour in front of the whole house. 

He was already annoying last year. But this time, his hair’s longer, and made up with just the right amount of disarray and a little bit even tucked behind his ear.

Fuck, this is so much worse! 

If he wasn’t so attractive and magnetizing, you’d have way less than ninety-nine problems. It would be a lot closer to zero. 

But you make your way over to him anyway, because of course you would. Of course he knew you would, too. 

“Hi,” you greet him, hands tingling with the desire to cup his beautiful chin and yank him in for a kiss. 

But he greets you back while giving you a hug, not without giving you a very obvious once-over. 

“Beautiful,” he whispers in your ear before pulling away, which can only make you babble out, 

“What?” 

He grins wide. “You look nice.” 

Oh. Oh, he really did say that. Why are you surprised? Why are you always surprised? But you have to stay poised so you stick with a neutral, 

“So do you.” 

“Thanks,” he says with a sly curve, still leaning back on the counter with a drink in hand. “Say something else.” 

“Goodbye forever,” is what you go with, back heating with his staccato laughs following your speedy retreat. 

No, no, no. He cannot notice how excited you are to give him his gift. Your bubbling excitement needs to be projected elsewhere. Because you know you picked perfect. It’s something you know he’d appreciate. 

But he cannot have his ego inflated anymore or else the house would float to the sky. 

But fucking hell, he looks damn good and he knows it. 

After an hour or so of socializing and keeping to your little friend circle, Jimin gets everyone together in the big living room to do the exchange. 

“Okay! One, two… Okay, we’re all here, so. Who’s gonna start?” 

When someone calls his name, the man grins and shakes his head. “Nah, I’m host.” 

“So shouldn’t you be the one to start?” 

“My house, my rules!” Jimin argues with zest, pointing to the guy that dared to challenge him, “So you go first.” 

And that man just so happens to secretly be yours. 

Shouts erupt around the living room, and you can mostly hear Hoseok and Seokjin since they’re closest,

“Go, Yoong!” 

“Ah, Yoongi’s first for a change.” 

Secretly and not so secretly, you’re hoping and wishing that he pulled your name. But the odds of that would be pretty slim if you pulled him, even though it was an even chance across the board. 

But as he gets up from the arm of Jimin’s couch holding a small gift bag, you determine that maybe it’s best if he didn’t pull your name. Because you already had trouble opening Yuri’s gift. How the hell would you control yourself opening his? 

“K, uhh. I got…” 

Wait, he’s looking towards you from across the room.

Shit. Is it happening?

You? 

“Taehyung.” 

A pang of disappointment and relief shoots through your veins, even when you shout with everyone while watching Tae smile from his place right next to you.

Yoongi walks right up to your seats, which are really some extra fold-out chairs by Jimin’s decorated tree. And he smells so good. Why do you have to be close to him again? 

But this moment is about Taehyung, so you watch as he opens the gift. When there’s a small box inside the bag, he opens that to reveal a nice, slim… wallet? 

Wait, is that leather? 

Your mouth drops as everyone’s up and raising questions already, and you can clearly hear Jungkook and your brother protest the highest,  

“Wait, huh?” 

“We set a limit for a reason!” 

Yoongi’s hands stay in his pockets when he refutes, “It was on sale.” 

“Nah, he’s lying!” 

Taehyung doesn’t know what to say, so when he looks at you, it takes all your strength to encourage him neutrally, 

“It’s so you! Deserved.” 

Yoongi looks at you before asking your friend, “Is it okay?” 

“It’s perfect,” Taehyung says, full of gratefulness. “I’m just shocked.” 

Jimin and Shiv chuckle from one of the couches, 

“Oh? He’s never shocked.” 

“This is new.” 

Yoongi smiles as Tae gets up to hug him, and you’re immediately okay not being the one receiving anything right now. 

Because you don’t need anything from him. 

All you want is his happiness. 

Once the initial gift is given, everyone goes down the line. And you’re feeling a little lighter after knowing who Yoongi got. Also, you feel less and less awkward about your gift, since the chaos of Yoongi’s was only the beginning.

Because when Taehyung gifts your brother a chain, everyone’s up and yelling again while your sibling is shocked to hell. 

On one end of the living room, Namjoon shakes his grinning head while Jungkook throws his back, 

“Alright, there needs to be a penalty for the most expensive gift.” 

“We obviously didn’t give a shit about the limit.” 

Everyone’s laughter fills the house, even drowning out the faint holiday music floating from the surround speakers. 

Immediately clipping on his necklace, your brother shouts, “Am I the only one that stuck to what we agreed on?” 

“Sucks for who got yours then.” 

Everyone starts laughing or reprimanding Yoongi for saying that—you with a cackle included. 

But then your brother busts out a fucking watch for Shiv and everyone goes bananas. 

At this point, Taehyung’s fully laughing behind his fingers on his forehead, and Jimin collapses on a gawking Yoongi when Shiv quite literally jumps up. 

“What the hell? Dude, I can’t take this.” 

“Yes, you can! And you will.” 

Fingers are pointing in every direction while people are calling each other liars, and your brother laughs on like a gremlin.

But it’s all so adorable that your heart is squeezing. Shiv’s damn near tearing up. “I’ve been eyeing this one for forever.” 

“I know! You wouldn’t stop running your damn mouth about that thing.” Your older sibling claps him on the shoulder. “You can shut up now,” he says with a grin, and Shiv gives him a big hug. 

“Thanks, man.” 

“Don’t sweat it.” 

Shiv’s turn. And everyone is waiting for what he decided to gift. 

Turns out he keeps the shenanigans going by gifting Jungkook a luxury tie set.

The blond’s jaw drops as he stares hard at the package. Looking up quick, he has to ask for sure, “A set, dude?” 

“It was on sale!” 

“Again?”

“Are we all gonna say the same lie?” 

Everyone can’t hide their amusement, with creased eyes and fake annoyance in every seat. Jungkook can’t believe his luck, since he’s been telling himself to get dress clothes forever but hasn’t gotten around to it.

“You gotta dress like a man now, kid,” Shiv tells him with a bright smile. “There’s a lot coming now that you’re making it.”

A light bulb softly glows when you realize that Yoongi might need to do the same. Trying not to look obvious, you peek in his direction. 

As he stares at the floor, you already know he’s mulling over the same thoughts. 

But it’s Jungkook’s turn now, and you still haven’t gotten a gift yet. 

So you’re waiting with all the air in your lungs. 

As the blond teases his pick, the studio boys are quick to handle him as Yoongi only huffs.

“I got… I got… I got, I got, I got, I got—”

“Kook, just say it.”

“Always like this.”

“Jimin!”

Your heart beats again as the host pops up from his couch, everyone cheering as Kook meets him in the center. Around you, speculation from your friends mixed with a little laughter spikes,

“He probably stuck to the limit.”

“Definitely.”

“Jimin’s gonna be the only one left with—”

Cackles and screams rip as Jimin kicks his head back in laughter, because in his hands is a sleek white box that everyone recognizes. 

This man got Jimin designer shades.

Your cheeks hurt as you react with everyone, giddy and bubbly with how absolutely ridiculous this whole night has gone. Everyone accusing each other of cheating, while all the while every single gift has been over the top.

You really don’t feel bad about revealing your gift anymore. Quite honestly, you almost feel more bad about it not being enough.

No. It’s enough.

Yours is the best and you stick to that.  

Jimin takes the sunglasses out of the box and protective pouch, slipping them on and modeling immediately.  

Oh’s and ah’s echo before his friends inflate his ego,

“Damn, you sure you aren’t a model?” 

“You’re one step away.” 

“He really is.” 

He looks great and he knows it. And he carefully puts them back in their packaging before giving Jungkook a hug. They exchange conversation, and you can feel the latter’s smile as he laughs before sitting down. 

Suddenly, you have the strongest intuition that you’re next. On Jimin’s turn. He’s getting out a very nice bag from behind a couch and your brain is firing off. 

“Okay! The best gift is going to…”

You were right. He calls your name.

Smiling, you shakily stand as Jimin approaches, a twinkling look in those features glowing in incandescent lights. 

Eyes on you. Many eyes. 

A little overwhelmed, you thank him before sitting down. Because it’s much easier to do this while on a solid, structured surface. 

“Hope you like it.”

“I’m sure I will.”

Best gift? What could Jimin possibly mean by—

Your scream shoots out as you clamp the bag shut because no fucking way you saw what you just saw in there. 

Jimin’s laughing his ass off but it’s not funny. 

“Jimin, what the fuck!” Now you know how Shiv felt and he is absolutely valid for his reaction. “I can’t accept this.” 

People are concerned around you, and you quickly think they may have the wrong idea.

“What did he get?” 

“What’s in there?”

Quelling some thoughts, you explain, “It’s a box.” 

“Okay?” 

You just gotta say it. They’re all gonna know as soon as you take it out anyway. So you breathe out,

“…It’s Dior.” 

It’s the loudest it’s been all night, even though your friends are completely speechless. All the guys are up in arms and Jia’s scream for penalty can be heard through the chaos,

“What!” 

“Where’s my Dior?” 

“What the fuck?” 

“Jimin…” 

“Okay, that is way over limit! That’s cheating!” 

“Penalty!” 

Jimin’s sneaky smile as he turns around doesn’t help, “You know I get everything for less.” 

“So?”

“Still, what the hell, man!”

You know Jimin works there. You do. But this is still making your limbs jelly and you can’t even speak. 

There’s no way Dior is passed around at every gift exchange. 

“You deserve it. For dealing with him.” He looks at your brother, but the look in his eyes is too sparkly to be completely truthful. Does he mean Yoongi? Or is he being serious? 

Of course, your sibling throws out a droning, “Wow.” 

After lots of shaky unboxing, you reveal a stunning bracelet, your friends bending down around you to gawk at how brilliant it is. Dancing in your fingers, this piece shimmers and gleams, and every single person is quiet. 

Guilt. You feel guilt. 

And you can’t even look at the reason why.

“Whatever you’re feeling, don’t. It’s okay.” 

You’re tearing up because it’s way too nice. Which proves worse because you also feel bad for crying for the sole fact that Yoongi’s watching. You don’t want him to get the wrong idea. 

You get up to hug him. “I… This is really nice, Jimin. Thank you.” 

“Stop by the store sometime,” he offers with a smile. “Maybe I can slip more in your purse.” 

“Easy,” your brother eyes him. 

“So are we all getting fancy gifts or what?” 

“Nope! Ran out of my discount, sorry.” 

“Wow.” 

When you finally glance around, everyone’s either a mix of shock and awe, visibly confused, or just jealous and wondering what the hell just happened. 

Meanwhile. 

Yoongi straight up looks like he’s holding his tongue. 

And you suddenly feel really bad. 

Hopefully giving him his gift will make up for what just happened. Even though you’re going after the hardest hitter of the damn night, this one’s special. 

But who are you kidding? People are definitely gonna talk in private about Jimin’s little gift. 

So now you have to try and mend this while acting like Yoongi’s just your brother’s friend. Cool. Awesome. 

“So...”

Just try your goddamned best. 

“Yoongi is mine.”

…Wait.

Your secret looks your way immediately while everyone snaps their heads to him.

What the fuck did you say?

Wait wait wait wait what did you fucking say?

Flapping your arms, you reach for words while everyone starts teasing, “Oh, god. I mean—I have Yoongi—I mean, wow. Hold on.”

Fucking fuck fuck, he’s grinning.

Thank the lord above for someone cheekily asking,

“First time at a gift exchange?”

You look away from the laughs while trying to compose your grin of embarrassment. Get it the fuck together, this is peak time to get it right.

“God. Okay.” You look down at your bag. All of its carefully folded and primped paper, the delicate folding inside. “For the gift exchange,” you clarify with a forced firm tone, “I got Yoongi.” 

You feel Dom try her damned best to hide her laugh. And you know for damn sure Jimin and Taehyung are thoroughly amused right now. 

All the oh’s sounding off in the living room are already enough to set your ears smoking. Your brother’s voice can be heard, but you know that’s for a specific reason. 

Everything had to be carefully calculated, after all. 

You walk up to him, and you cannot—absolutely cannot—look too long at the way he’s looking up at you. Him sitting in any capacity is enough to drive you up a wall, but now? When he looks so freshly fitted and prepping to tease you about all this later? You can barely think straight. 

“I don’t think I can beat Jimin’s gift,” you sigh to his curious eyes. “But it’s a little too late to change.”

His smile turns so soft. He shouldn’t be the one comforting you right now when you probably broke a little of his heart. “It’s all good.”

Keep going. 

Cleaning your clogged throat, you brave the crowd and breathe before starting again, “Anyway. This is kinda from both of us, but I picked it because I have better taste.”

“Hey, what the hell?” 

Ignoring your brother’s protest, you watch as Yoongi softly opens the gift before pulling out a basketball jersey. 

Of his favorite player. 

“Holy shit.” 

Shouts start erupting behind your back as you laugh, your sneaky gift joining the rest of them. 

“Hello? That’s way too much!” 

“That’s over the limit for sure.” 

You wave your hands frantically among their teasing arguments, and your brother chimes in on your side. “I didn’t know what to get!” 

“So you got a real jersey?” 

“Relax, y’all. It’s from both of us.” 

“Wait, which one’s Lillard again?” 

“Damian,” Yoongi softly says in awe. “How’d you know?” 

You can only blink, smiling faltering by the slightest amount.

Fuck, he’s gonna be cheeky right now? Knowing you know and exactly how you know? Cuddled up with him in his bed as he shows you highlight reels and tells you the guy’s whole story and that he happens to be a rapper, too? 

Looking back towards your brother, you explain, “Well... He gave me a list. And I just picked off vibes.” 

Yoongi’s eyes sparkle so much when he grins. “Good choice,” he compliments with creased eyes. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome!” You say back with a little too high of a pitch. “But tell him he still owes you a gift. This doesn’t count for him.” 

“Uhh, it sure as fuck does!” 

Yoongi breaks eye contact to shout behind you, “Didn’t you already tell me you got me something?” 

“Yeah, it was that!” 

“What a lie,” Yoongi says through a smile.

“Yeah, I did,” your brother surrenders. “The shoes are in my bag. Okay, next!” 

Hilariously, two pairs of people end up getting each other. Yuri’s older sister Jia got Seokjin, who also drew her name—to the slight angst of your brother, you imagine. 

And Hoseok ends up getting Namjoon. Which turns out being twice as funny because they both got each other the same pair of earphones. You can’t breathe with how hard you cackle with everyone, and your heart skips when you catch a glimpse of Yoongi’s eyes across the room.

By the end of the exchange, everyone’s bellies and cheeks sting from laughter, and every eye in sight has twinkles embedded inside.

Throughout the night, everyone starts branching off into different groups. You and your friends talk in the kitchen, and both in and out of the house, there’s groups of games and conversations. 

The holiday decorations everywhere shine bright. Enveloped in the music, you keep looking at the lights, feeling happy but a little bittersweet. 

You really wanna set the record straight with Yoongi. You had no damn clue that Jimin was gonna give something like that, much less in front of everyone. 

The fact that you haven’t been in the same room for a bit makes it worse. What could he be thinking right now? You can’t tell because he’s nowhere in sight. 

Screw it. You’re gonna at least text him. There’s no way you can survive the night if you’re gonna plague your own head without checking in with him. 

Fishing out your phone, you sidestep away for a second to type something quick. 

You [10:38pm]: i know it’s not dior.. but hope you like your gift :’)) 

Yoongi [10:38pm]: You know I do. It’s perfect, doll. 

Well. He texted back super quick.

Maybe he’s really okay? Maybe he and Jimin already talked it through? 

Then again.. Yoongi didn’t look happy at all during the big reveal. To the point where he was actively showing emotions you rarely get to see.

But if he says he likes his gift, that’s a good sign. 

You [10:42pm]: i can’t believe jimin did that

Yoongi [10:42pm]: That was bold. 

You [10:42pm]: seriously!!! 

Hmm. So he didn’t know. That’s even more surprising than him knowing, now that you think about it. 

You’re called over to get another round of food, and you turn down the initial invite but stay around as they get more to eat. 

When you see a tray that smells way too good, you do break and get a piece anyways. 

“Yeah, those are amazing,” Yuri chirps. “Shiv made those.”

“Really?” Dom grabs a couple pieces. “Lemme try these then.”

“You’re gonna want more.” 

As you find a place outside to eat, you stand next to the heater while conversing with Taehyung. It’s adorable how you can tell how excited he is about his gift, turning it in his hand before pocketing the leather again. 

“It’s so nice,” you compliment. 

“He knows how to pick, I guess,” Tae smiles, looking at you and making you shy. Because hello? There’s no way he’s gonna be bringing that up tonight. 

When you silently mouth for him to shut up, he grins like a madman. Glancing down at your hands, he suddenly asks, “Are you gonna put that down?”

“No,” you say with a tiny pang of guilt. “Afraid not.”

“Mm.” 

Your phone buzzes again, and you’re thankful for the interruption.

Yoongi [11:09pm]: Guess I have to do better😔

Instantly, you take that gratefulness back.

You [11:09pm]: NO!! you don’t have to worry about me at all

Yoongi [11:10pm]: I can’t lose to you

You [11:10pm]: trust me, i just… 

You think about sending the other text or not. But you do anyway. 

Taehyung sees the look in your faraway face, but doesn’t comment as you peer down again. 

You [11:11pm]: i just wanna see you happy

That’s all you want. If he’s happy, you’re happy. So it sucks to have part of the night come as quite the shock. 

Interestingly enough, though.. Someone else in the house should also be pretty upset about your gift, and you haven’t seen Jimin cornered by him yet. 

Unless your brother is just deciding to be courteous and beat his ass after everyone leaves. 

Yoongi [11:13pm]: Then come over here

You’re not gonna argue with that. 

So when your friends finish their plates, you suggest you all head into the garage. It’s already rowdy before you open the door, so the sounds get booming loud when you all enter. 

Looks like everyone is blowing their money on other things tonight, too. The gifts were the nice part of the party; now everyone is fiending to take everyone’s cash.

“Damn, Yoongi’s clearing me out.”

“Told you not to go all in.”

“He did.”

As the cold weather rolls in, you watch as the games go on, with heaters humming with energy and your brother’s friends radiating competition. 

No wonder Yoongi wanted you in here.

He’s on a damn roll.

As everyone groans after another win, Namjoon and your brother are in tatters, 

“Yoong, what the fuck!”

“You hiding cards in those sleeves?”

“I told you!” Yoongi boasts, “Don’t get too cocky.”

“Says him.”

“Cocky, my ass.” 

When you laugh, you earn a tiny glimpse of his eyes. But as his vision falls to your hands, you’re quick to look away, out into the night to look at all the lights instead.

Shit.

After some time passes, you find yourself alone on a balcony. Yet again. Cold wind blows through your coat, chilling you but making you feel alive. Too alive in this moment. Too aware.

The holidays aren’t so bad this time around. But you do need to set this one thing straight before things go a little sideways with Yoongi. 

If he’s upset, you don’t want him to be. Even if he doesn’t say it, you want him to know you’re considering his feelings. There’s some things you just can’t control.

So you wait for Jimin, telling him earlier to meet you up here for the best chance at privacy.

When you hear the door opening, you see him come through, hair lifting in the breeze and his lips in a slight curve. 

Get right to it. “Jimin, I—”

“Isn’t it so nice tonight?” 

Stopping, you settle into a smile, watching him walk up to stand next to you before you both look into the night. The neighborhood glows beneath your feet, and everyone in the backyard mingles while puffs of air leave their lips. 

“It really is,” you say with a smile, clutching the gift bag in cold fingers. Because you haven’t let go of it ever since it was given to you—it’s way too expensive. You’ve been guarding it all night. 

Which is why you need to hand it back to the one who gave it to you. “We haven’t done something like this before, so.. It’s a nice change of pace.” 

Jimin turns before realizing something. “Oh. I meant the weather.” 

Embarrassed, you let out a laugh while his eyes crease. “Ah. That, too.” 

“Got deep real fast.” 

“Jimin!” 

Both of you puff out laughter as you look down, just in time to see someone gazing right up at you. Someone that makes your heart squeeze on sight. 

Oh, shit. Is he gonna get the wrong idea again? 

You need to do this quick. Yoongi can’t be let down more than once tonight. 

Sighing, you start to hold up the bag again. “Thank you—”

“He’s lucky you came around when you did.” 

“Huh?” 

Jimin leans on the railing before eyeing you with a smile. “You don’t even know, do you.” 

“I don’t…” When you look below, Yoongi’s not looking anymore. And you panic. “Jimin, thank you. But I seriously can’t take this.” 

Why does he look so calm? Why does he keep acting like this isn’t a big deal? “You can.” 

“No, really. I—” 

“I may have gone too far this time.” 

Your eyes still as you breathe out a confused, “...What?” 

Jimin’s face is dusted with peach in the cold, and you get a good view of his jawline as he peers down below with a regretful curve. “I kinda tricked him,” he admits. “Into picking your gift for the exchange.” 

The shock you feel prevents you from even blinking. How the hell can this get even more overwhelming? “What do you mean?” 

“I wasn’t lying when I said I got some good discounts.” Jimin turns around to lean against the railing. “So I thought it would be fun to rope him into getting you something.” 

When he laughs to the chilly night sky, you don’t join him—the shock is preventing you from doing anything. 

“Didn’t think he’d pick a whole bracelet, though. Made for one hell of a gift exchange pick.” He looks at you at a tilt. “You like it, right?” 

Even if Yoongi was the one to pick out the jewelry, Jimin still had to purchase the damn thing. And even with his discount, it’s still expensive as hell. It has to be. You haven’t let go of the bag once because you don’t want to lose it. “But you still had to pay,” you blurt out. “I’ll find a way to pay you back if you aren’t gonna take it.”

“I didn’t pay for it, either.” 

Your heart stops. 

Full on halts. 

When he turns his head, he looks toward the sky in thought. “Well, I did secretly pay the exchange limit. But..” He straightens before staring back at your absolute silence, dropping the biggest surprise of the whole night,

“Yoongi paid the difference.”

The sudden sob that leaves your throat startles him immediately, and he rushes forward to put hands on your shoulders. “Hey, hey, you okay?”

“Yeah, I just—”

The sound of a door slides open, and you turn to see your favorite, favorite, favorite person walking through. You must look like a wreck but you don’t care, don’t care, don’t care. 

“I’ll leave you both to it then,” Jimin says to your watery eyes before squeezing, heading out to give you both the quiet space you need. 

But Yoongi clutches his arm as he walks by, and you hold your breath as he stares him in the eye, voice burning with a steady glow,

“Don’t pull that shit again.” 

“I know,” Jimin agrees without pause. “I owe you one.” 

“No one comes up here then.” Yoongi releases him slow. “Until I come back down.” 

The host of the night shares a quick hand clutch before assuring, “You got it.” 

Bag clutched tight in your hands, you watch in wonder as Yoongi approaches you with a quiet determination. His presence alone makes your heart beat warm and soft, but you cannot stop the tears from flowing down your cheeks. 

All you can ask as he gets close is a wondrous, “Why..?”

“He’s a very persuasive salesman.” When you wipe your eyes, he helps with a little look of tenderness. Though there’s still some frustration evident in his features. “But I didn’t know it would be for tonight.”

“Oh, shit,” you sigh. “Why did he do that?” 

“I’m not sure.” Yoongi holds your chin, rubbing your frosty cheek with a handworking thumb. “Taehyung didn’t know he’d do it, either.” 

“Tae knew, too?” 

“Yeah. He thought I had it, not Chim.” He sighs to the side, hair lifting slightly in the breeze. “I almost stood up when you screamed.” 

Your heart shrugs off some chill. “Really?” 

Yoongi nods before looking up with scrunched brows. “It took all of me to keep my ass down. Honestly, I’m still pissed the fuck off.” 

You believe that. One hundred percent, you believe that. Because you’ve never seen him talk to Jimin like that before tonight. 

Reaching to cradle one of his cheeks, you feel how cold he is before whispering to soothe, “Tell me how you wanted it to go.” 

When Yoongi looks at you, your lips curve into a small smile. Peppered with a bit of your tears and willingness to make him feel better. 

He softly grips your hand on his face before turning to kiss your fingers. Voice low, he reveals, “I was gonna take you straight to dinner. After you got off work one day.” Another set of kisses makes your fingers both hot and cold. “Then I would’ve faked needing something from the studio. And you would’ve gotten it there.” 

“Oh…” You blink as your vision blurs. “That’s…” 

“Among other things.” 

At his suggestive look, you playfully pat his jacket. But your heart starts leaking from your eyes.  

Because you just want it all to be out already. Just everything. Everything, everything, everything, you’re so tired of keeping it under wraps. 

“What’s wrong, doll.”

“Nothing,” you sob. “I’m just… I didn’t know, and… This is a lot.” 

You’re overflowing with emotions. From all the experiences you’ve had tonight to this very moment, everything has been wonderful and magical and there’s nothing quite like this feeling. But you’re also so embarrassed because he definitely brought out much bigger guns than you did. 

Sniffling into his jacket, you whisper, “Thank you… You got me something timeless. This is so much cooler than my gift.” 

“No! Yours is great, are you kidding me?” 

“It’s a jersey… That’s much less cool.” 

“Mm... You also called me yours.” When you freeze completely, Yoongi's shoulders bob with his pride. “Gotta say, that was the highlight of the night."

“Oh, shut up!" When you groan into his clothes, you feel him laughing through his chest. And it's one of your favorite feelings in the world.

Shoulders slumped, you heavily yearn,

“I want it all out now. Everything.” You squeeze him closer. Closer, closer, closer. “I want everyone to know it was from you.” 

Yoongi doesn’t say anything, though you do feel his heart beat a little faster. When he finally answers, you close your eyes. “I know I said this last time, but.. Next year. For sure.” 

“Can we decorate, too?” 

Yoongi looks into your starry eyes. “You wanna?” When your nod is quick, he laughs. “Guess I don’t have a real choice then, huh?” 

“Nu uh.” You squeal as he hauls you into a full kiss, squeezing you in his arms and more tears out of your eyes. “Wait!” 

When he tilts his head, you grin at his adorable quirk. “Let’s do it anyway.” 

“Huh?”

Holding up the bag, you cheekily suggest, “Everything you said. Let’s do it.” Biting your lip and feeling the chill on your ears, you finish, “There’s a new place I wanna try with you anyways.” 

Yoongi just stares, smile unsure but huffing amusement from his nose. “You sure?” 

“Duh! And I’ll act even more surprised, just for you.” 

Your giggling is purely born from excitement. Because you can’t wait to take him somewhere you know he’ll enjoy, too. And you get to see the studio? It’s gonna be a fantastic—

You’re brought into a tight hug before your thoughts finish. The bag between you crumples a tad, but you’re more focused on the way your head is moved for a soul-tying kiss. 

Warmth and gold and sparkles burst from your chest as you’re completely taken by Yoongi’s lips, and you start to feel your house inside change. It’s festive. It’s decorated. It’s made just for you and him. 

You've never been one for this season. But getting to spend it with Yoongi two years in a row? It's becoming one of your favorite times of the year.

“I just…” he murmurs to your features before gripping you close. “Thanks, babe.” 

“Thank you,” you whisper into his handsome features. “Once you give it to me for real, I’m gonna wear it everywhere.” 

“Please do. Get my money’s worth.” 

When you both laugh, your affection leaves in puffs of white. And you give him a more tender kiss than the first. 

You feel so at home it hurts. But it hurts because your heart is so full you can’t fit it all. All the love for everyone that fills that hole in your life that you and your brother have had for years. 

You’re gonna tell him one day. And it’s gonna rip you apart. 

But you hope everything will be okay. This time next year, all of you will be okay. More than okay. 

When you lean in close, you whisper something you’ve never really said to anyone. But you’re gonna try to start, even if you aren’t quite familiar with it yet. It’s a good year to start, start, start. 

“Happy holidays, Yoongi.”

His lips spread slow before giving one more kiss to your chilly nose. And every anxious feeling floats away in the frosty breeze.

“Happy holidays, doll.”

-

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fin. :)

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so... how did it go! | join the server! | join the taglist!

a/n: happy holidays, merry christmas, happy new year to everyone that celebrates! just wanted to get this one out for the ones needing a little bit of cheer around this time. we learn quite a bit about some of the crew's backstories and where they work now, huh. is this a pocket universe, too? who really knows! but it all flew out of my fingers as soon as we got the suggestion, so thank you again to that anon message! a/n 2: thank you to everyone that's stuck with me and 3tan this year. it's been a rough one, but i also wanted to post this one to let you all know i'm still here. 3tan will forever stay with me, and i have not ever forgotten it. not one day goes by where i don't think about it, or y'all, or them. trust me. also, stay on the lookout for some physical copy interest checks! we are getting closer and closer to 3tan copies being A Real Thing! ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist  ⇥ three tangerines masterlist

[endlessdreamworld]

Baptism by Fire

the sequel to a short AU fic featuring secret priest! Sunday of a small village x baker! gn reader. part one here.

The familiar jingle of the bell above the front door signaled the arrival of a customer in the tailor’s shop. “Coming!” Sunday called, putting a pause to the present project. It was a simple hem for the blacksmith, though it did require some special care given how thick the heat resistant fabric was.

There you were, dripping on the polished wooden floorboards of the tailor’s shop with all of the charm of a pathetic wet cat. And it wasn’t just that. Your uniform had frayed threads that were burned loose from what seems to be a fire. It left you looking like you were covered in wet spiderwebs, the clothing in total ruins. Poor thing’s shaking, Sunday hurried towards you. “How in the world did you manage to both drown and burn your pretty uniform?” He knew you weren’t the type to be wasteful, so this current predicament put him on edge. I need to do something before my sweet dove catches a cold. 

Sunday took your hand, being mindful to brush as much of his skin against yours as he could. It was a test just for you, to see if his favorite lamb could resist the temptation of flesh. He didn’t fail to notice the small twitch of your lonely fingers just before he let go and sat on you on a stool, towel already in hand.

“There was an accident at work. A corner caught fire and I had to throw myself in the river or risk hurting myself,” was your out of character confession. It was unlike you to be this careless. “I’m sorry Mr. Oak, but I wasn’t able to save you any of today’s specials because I had to run right over here.” The implication of missed payment went unspoken between you.

Sunday retrieved the towel, and replaced it with some undergarments. “Think nothing of it, or maybe like a gift for being a loyal customer for such a long time. Now we need to get your measurements, don’t we?” He took your hand and led you to the back of the shop where there was a curtain to grant you privacy. You changed into the garments and readied yourself for the impending proximity. He pulled back the curtain, measuring tape already in hand.

The next – eternity. It was nothing short of an eternity of torture. It felt like you were dying every second Sunday’s fingers roamed your body. The brush of measuring tape and the tender pads of his fingers seemed to be relishing in your suffering. God was testing you, you justified. It was up to you to endure this for you and Mr. Oak.

Sunday worked in complete silence, leaving you with only the pounding of your heart and the scratch of ink against paper as he wrote down the shape of your form one number at a time. Just before you went crazy, and opened your mouth to vomit out your sinful feelings, it was over. You passed.

With a spare set of clothes, and a pat on the back, Sunday sent you on your way. It must be hard to make an entire set of clothing from scratch, and it would give you an excuse to come back every few days just to ask about the progress. There was nothing wrong with wanting to know about the status of something that important, right? But deep down you knew you were lying to yourself, and so you had to confess to all of the filth you have buried deep in your heart.

“Forgive me father, for I have sinned.”

It was you. Sunday was hoping you’d stop by and tell him the story of what really happened earlier that day.

“Speak freely child, God forgives all who sin.” He tried to keep his voice steady, but you were just as much of a test of faith for him as he was for you.

It took you a moment to find your voice but he couldn’t blame you. It wasn’t easy to confess your shortcomings especially if they weighed as heavy. “Today I lied to the person I cared most about.” He wasn’t surprised to hear this. Sunday knew the moment you spoke to him earlier that morning that you were lying about the circumstances of your garb.

“Confess to me the truth of your lie and all shall be forgiven,” Sunday kept his voice level, maintaining that unusual drawl of his to mask his identity.

“Perhaps it’s more of a fib, but my intentions were to deceive. Today I told him I had a workplace accident, but it was a bit more than that. The baker’s son has been more and more forward with his intentions and he’s become more shameless with his... touch,” the words tasted bitter leaving your mouth and you couldn’t hide the shaking in your voice even if your life depended on it. “I’m afraid to speak out for fear of losing my home.”

A foul serpent in our midst, one that needs dealing with. The viper will be extricated from our hallowed garden by the week’s end.

“Today, he got closer and closer, and I prayed to God to save me. As if by divine intervention my uniform caught fire from a stray ember that escaped the oven. No one thought ill of me when I elbowed past them on my dash to the river. That’s what truly happened. I just wanted to spare him the worry.”

He sighed, “A kind lie but a lie nonetheless. You are forgiven.” That wretch will pay most dearly for making you feel such desperation. 

“Father,” you called out, the wood of the confession booth felt claustrophobic. “Do you think this is a sign from God that my feelings are pure? I cried out to Him and he granted me the blessing of sanctuary, an opportunity to spend time with the one I hold most dear.”

You leaned up against the screen of the booth and shut your eyes, recounting the memory. “I feel I was tested today. I didn’t notice how soft Mr. Oak’s hands were until today when he traced them down every part of me. I fear I’ll be haunted by the memory of it until the end of my days.”

Sunday’s mouth went dry at the thought of your confession. “The book speaks of baptisms of fire. God has given you a sign from above that you’ll find salvation in your beloved. You should accept it for what it is.”

“Thank you, Father.” You bid your farewell, your heart much lighter and your head clearer. Yes, he was right, this surely is a sign from above. And so when you returned back to the bakery, you snuck around like a thief in your own home. You grabbed what you needed, the tool of your salvation, and climbed up the ladder to your room in the attic.

This is God’s will. You were told as such. But was the way your heart was racing, and the filthy thoughts that plagued your mind God’s will too? You didn’t know. What you did know is that you were desperate to be delivered from the fate you were given -- indulging the baker’s son or risking homelessness. You find the borrowed clothing you had gotten from Sunday earlier that day on the bed where you left it.

The object you had in your hand that you’ve used countless times felt much heavier, as if consecrated by the weight of what you were about to do. This is necessary, this is God’s will. This is so we can be together, so I can be saved. Your breathing sped up in anticipation and your hands shook. The shrill groan of metal grinding against metal as you opened the object echoed through your mind as you began to wildly cut at the fabric.

Who knew a simple pair of scissors could feel so holy?

Sorry for taking so long! I hope it met your expectations. Tagging everyone who requested a sequel or to be tagged: @yae-yu127 @hersweetsstrawberry @666xist @killergee @anzuwrld @xeltxt @thypplover @mehkers

[himbodruid]

Taking a break from Sylus fics to give yall some Zayne!

Zayne x Reader

Intended for 18+ readers. MINORS DNI.

Desperate -:- clothed sex -:- angst -:- possessive Zayne (kinda) -:- Zayne loses control (but not of his evol)

Desperation in Yearning

There was a certain excitement that came with danger, an addictive rush of adrenaline. Maybe that was why you kept throwing yourself into missions that could end in your death. Or maybe it was some sort of misguided sense of survivor’s guilt, seeing as you’d been quite literally throwing yourself into your work for the last 14 years. Since the explosion. Since your world came raining down in a rain of ash and embers.

Your bags were almost packed, even though the shuttle wasn’t leaving for another several days. Captain Jenna had given you and the rest of the deployment team a few days off in order to prepare for the arduous journey, but you felt unsettled. You needed to move. To do something other than hurry up and wait.

Cooking was a nice way to distract yourself, even if you weren’t very good at it. What you made was edible at least, if not very creative.

A hurried knock on your door returned you to reality on that first night, and you looked up with brows drawn down. You weren’t expecting any visitors, and the stirfry you’d been disassociating over was almost done (note: probably burnt actually). Shaking your head, you removed the pan from the heat and killed the stove so you wouldn’t start a fire in your distraction.

Zayne was there on the other side of the door. He was out of breath, as if he’d run straight from Akso Hospital. He also looked…angry, and you ushered him inside.

“Doctor Zayne? What’s going on? Is something wrong?”

He took a moment to compose himself. It was almost disturbing to see the usually unflappable Doctor Zayne in such a state, and you feared the worst.

“When were you going to tell me,” he demanded. His usually even voice held the slightest of tremors, and you didn’t understand why. His eyes held an intensity to them that made you look anywhere but his face.

“What do you mean? Tell you about what?” He sat heavily in a stool at your breakfast bar and you put a hand on his shoulder. He stiffened under your touch.

“When were you going to tell me that you’re leaving?”

“Oh. That.” You still didn’t understand why it was such a big deal to him. It was just like any other away mission before. You always texted him when you were heading out and he wished you a safe return. And then when you returned, the two of you would go out to dinner together. You always celebrated your wins with him, mourned the losses with him.

“Were you just going to send me some off-hand text again? Letting me know you’d be leaving and then leave me in radio silence for weeks on end? Leave me wondering if everything was going okay, if you were safe- alive, even?”

He stood and punctuated his words by crowding you against the counter. His hazel eyes held a predatory glint to them, a look you were so unused to in his regularly smooth expression. He wasn’t one to wear his emotions easily, and you always struggled to read him. Even now, when he had you pinned at your counter, you couldn’t figure out what he was so upset over.

“Doctor Zayne, it’s fine. I do stuff like this all the time, it’s part of my job.”

His hand slammed down on the counter, making you jump. “Purposefully throwing yourself in harm’s way is not part of the job, not when you constantly do it to the point of self-destruction!”

You stared up at him, eyes wide in wonder. His face was flush and you thought you could read despair in his expression. This was a man that was always calm, cool, and collected, and yet here he was losing his temper at you.

“I…didn’t think of it that way. I’m sorry,” you say to him, trying to appease him so he would relax. But your words only seemed to fuel his frustration even more.

“That’s the problem. You never seem to think,” he whispered, the tremble in his voice more prominent now.

“Zayne,” you say, dropping his title in favour of your friendship. “What’s all this about? I don’t understand why you’re so upset about this. Please, help me understand.”

He blew out a shaky breath and let his head drop to your shoulder. You froze. It’s not that you didn’t see Zayne as a man, it’s that you always thought he never saw you as a woman. You thought maybe he only ever saw you as a trouble-making younger sibling, seeing as you had been friends with him since childhood. But here he was, face buried in your neck while he struggled to maintain his composure.

“I’m tired of watching the woman I love run head-long into danger,” he said quietly. “And not knowing if you’re safe is a special kind of torture I wouldn’t wish on anyone.”

You felt your heart shudder at his admission. Oh how you’ve been so stupid, so blind to his true feelings. The only credit you could give yourself is that Zayne wasn’t the best at portraying what he felt, and you were even worse at picking up social cues.

Your mind dug through all of your memories with him. How he would always seem to hug you a little longer than necessary when you came home. How he would always use one excuse or another to call and check up on you. How his demeanor went from cold and distant to warm and welcoming as time passed. The clues were there all along, you just never picked up on them. Or you assumed they were just a natural progression of friendship.

“Zayne, I-“ you didn’t know what to say. How to finish that sentence. You felt like you were in shock and you didn’t know what to do. He lifted his head from your shoulder slowly, bringing those damnably beautiful eyes up to bore into your very soul.

“I hate not knowing if you’ll survive the next mission that takes you away from me. I hate not being able to clear my schedule fast enough to go alongside you as a medic. And I hate the very idea of losing you to your own stubbornness.”

With that, he leaned forward and his lips captured yours. It was hesitant at first, testing, but the last remnants of his control snapped when you returned the kiss in equal measure. He coaxed your mouth open with ease and plunged his tongue in to tangle with yours. He poured all his desperation into you in that single point of contact, his hand coming up to grasp the back of your head to hold you in place.

When he finally broke away to let you have some air, his face was flush with all that was left unsaid. His eyes pleaded with you, his breath mingled with yours. He searched you for the same kind of yearning he bore to you. And when your gaze flicked to his mouth and back to his eyes with a soft sigh, he knew he had his answer.

He hauled you up against him, holding you as close as he possibly could as if that act alone could prevent you from leaving him. As if that alone would keep you by his side and out of danger forever. But it was that threat of danger that made desperation all the more prominent, all the more sweeter.

Zayne carried you to your bedroom without hesitation and without trouble, as though you weighed nothing more than the pen he carried in his lab coat every day at work. Your legs wrapped around his waist, arms around his broad shoulders on instinct, hiking up the skirt you wore and exposing yourself to his chill touch. He plopped down on the corner of your mattress with you straddling his lap, not even taking a moment to break the kiss. You rocked your hips against him, lost to his every touch that drove you deeper into a needy mess.

You hated admitting it, but you knew that this is what you’ve been craving for so long. The realization that you were waiting for him to make a move so that your passion wouldn’t scare the normally reserved doctor away. Zayne was letting go of all those reservations and it was the single most attractive thing you ever experienced.

He devoured you. Touched you. The noises he made shot right to your core and your own noises rose to respond to him. The chill of his hands sent shivers dancing through you. You could feel the length of him hardening beneath you, responding resolutely to the grind of your core against him. One of his large hands found your thigh, smoothing along your skin until he was at your hip and his thumb ran along the edge of your underwear. You were subconsciously glad you wore lace, but it didn’t really matter when you were lost to him. And, gods, the cold metal of his watch pressing into your hot skin did something unspeakable to you.

The pad of his thumb pressed against your clit, making lazy circles as his tongue continued to battle with yours. You couldn’t stop the moan you released into his mouth, but the noise only seemed to goad him further. He absorbed the sounds you made and became drunk off you.

And then you were suddenly pinned underneath him. One hand held your wrists above your head while those elegant fingers of the other dipped into your slicked folds. When he found you wet and wanting, he groaned into your neck. He curled those fingers inside you, eliciting a gasp as he put pressure in the perfect place. You bucked your hips against his hand, chasing the release he was so graciously gifting you.

And when you fell over the edge, you breathed his name into the air like a chanting prayer. Your body arched into him involuntarily and your hands grasped at whatever they could while still restrained.

But Zayne wasn’t done with you. He was far from it.

He removed his fingers from you, bringing them up to inspect the result of your climax still slicked between them. And then he looked you in the eye, muttering ‘beautiful’ before he stuck those fingers in his mouth and savored the taste of you with a moan. And something about that damn watch on his wrist while he did it.

And, fuck, he still wasn’t done torturing you.

The buckle of his belt was loosened and his cock freed from his pants with hardly an effort. He did it all with one hand while still pinning your wrists together above your head. You wanted so badly to touch him, but all you could do was wrap your legs around his hips as his narrow hips nestled between your thighs. And then your underwear was brushed aside and his cock slicked against your folds, a gentle, testing nudge at first. Then pushing further at your moaned pleas.

You all but begged him to fuck you roughly like you wanted, and still he took the time to make sure your petite body could accommodate his size without hurting you. And, oh how he filled you. It was more than you could have ever dreamed, and still he remained infuriatingly still inside you while his mouth worked at yours with promises of what was to come.

You flexed your walls on him in silent revenge, and he hissed a moan into your mouth with an involuntary forward jerk of his hips. And that’s all it took for the dam to break on his control.

Before you knew it, he was slamming into you with reckless abandon, so hard you swore you could feel yourself being moved across your bed. His hand finally released yours and all you could do was cling to him while he basically folded you in half, trying to somehow get even deeper than he already was. His grunts, moans, whimpers were diffused by him burying his face in your neck. You chanted his name into the open air, punctuating it by kisses and bites against whatever skin of his neck and chest you could access.

He hooked his arms underneath your knees, giving himself the most access he could while he pistoned in and out of you like a madman. Every thrust slammed against that sweet spot in your core and you came undone around him more times than you could count before he’d even gotten close to his end. Each climax that swept through you was more intense than the last until you were all but screaming his name.

“So damn…good,” he grunted, his pace increasing as his own orgasm finally neared. His sounds were no longer muffled by your neck or mouth. He let his own pleasured cries rise with yours as he continued making a mess of the both of you. His words became incoherent as he lost himself to the rapture.

Zayne slammed so, so impossibly deep into you with a sound that came out like a mix between a shout and a moan. His climax steamrolled through him so thoroughly that all he could do was jerk his hips while trembling in your hold. Your walls quivered around his cock once more, milking him as he flooded you with his cum.

Zayne collapsed atop you, a sweating panting mess. You realized that the both of you were still fully clothed, so caught up in your frenzied coupling that you didn’t even take time to undress. You couldn’t even find it in yourself to be embarrassed at the madness that’d taken over the both of you. Especially when he was still shifting his hips in micro-thrusts that made you realize that he was still hard inside you.

Everything about this encounter sent a thrill through you, and it was something you would never forget. Though, your mind went blank when he suddenly rode you through overstimulation only to jolt you both through an unexpected mutual orgasm. His cock twitched and pulsed inside you as another deluge of cum filled you. And your body was all too eager to take him in. If it weren’t the sensations of his cock inside you, you were almost certain the sounds he was making would have sent you over the edge again. Or even the contrast of his cold hands on your heated skin.

It felt all too soon, but he pulled from you with a long moan. He kissed you and put his forehead against yours in an action so tender that it nearly brought tears to your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured to you with an embarrassed smile. “That’s not exactly how I imagined that would go.”

“Yeah?” You chuckled. “How was it supposed to go?”

“Slow and sweet. Definitely not horny and wild while clothed,” he grumbled. You couldn't help but look down and grinned when you saw the mess the both of you had made against his nice black trousers.

“Why not show me how it was meant to be?” You ventured. That soft smile of his played across his face as he leaned in and kissed you.

He proceeded to demonstrate what his first idea had been. Soft, slow, and sweet, bringing the both of you to climax over and over. He worshipped your body in a multitude of ways and you were grateful, then, for the days off that Jenna had given you. Because, aside from going home for a change of clothes and picking up some take out, Zayne hardly left your bed until it was time for you to go.

He walked you to the shuttle while trying to stoically hide the devastation in his eyes. Other hunters were already boarding the vehicle, but you turned to face him while your luggage was loaded, drawing him into a tight hug.

“I promise to be more mindful of missions in the future,” you say to him. You lean up in his embrace and kiss him in full view of anyone that cared to look. You knew there would be relentless teasing from Tara, but you didn’t care.

“After all, I have someone at home to look forward to now.”

[sailornymph]

i’d like to request general uchiha relationship headcanons? like relationship dynamics, how they’d treat you, whether or not they’d be into pda… stuff like that. thank you!!

‘SOMEONE LIKE YOU’

the uchiha men relationship hcs

cw : itachi’s death

authors note : my first two requests!! :)

♡ ︎madara uchiha

— this man is a handful, the overall madara experience is honestly

— he is attracted to your strength, then your face

— he is far from traditional, why follow what is known as the norm, when he isn’t a ordinary person

— he’s such a perfectionist, but he hides it behind his pride

— he’ll plan a really nice picnic thoroughly, from start to finish and if it doesn’t go to plan, just a little, he is mentally cursing himself

— he gets jealous easily, and isn’t shy about letting it be known. you allow a child to kiss your hand because of their admiration for you, he’s taking your hand back, wiping it, scoffing at the child

— you’re the first person he openly shares his plans with and if you’re a uchiha, he wants you to help him (to a certain extent)

— he is open to pda, but he is a respected leader, so it will be to a minimum. he’ll hold your hand, have an arm around you, even hug you, but that’s it

— he doesn’t really listen to what you’re talking to him about, but it’s because his mind is so focused on the clan and it’s future. when you get upset about him not listening, giving him the silent treatment, he gets upset and demands you retell him everything swearing that he will listen this time

— leading up to his death, he will make sure you are far from danger, allowing you to live the rest of your life safely

— 8/10. he seems dangerously wild and reckless to many, but in the midst of his chaos, he is always thinking of you, keeping your safety in mind, if you would like something, how you would feel, etc.

“where will we go?” you asked, gently combing through madara’s long thick hair.

“you don’t worry about any of it, i will take care of it and make sure you are someplace safe-

“i want to stay and fight alongside the others,” you admitted, making him look back at you.

“i won’t let you, many of them will die in battle, i will not lose you too,” his face hardening, but regardless, he faced forward, allowing you to continue combing.

“you won’t lose me”

“i know, because you will be far away from here, somewhere safe”

“madara”

“do not argue with me on this, please, i’ve thought over this too many times, you will not fight,” he raised his voice, but quickly stopped himself, shaking his leg, his way of calming his nerves.

“will you fight then?”

“i will come back to you,” he indirectly answered.

“and you don’t have another solution?”

“i’m afraid war is the best answer,” he said, pausing, examining you through the mirror, as you combed his hair. you didn’t want to throw your entire life away, you loved the clan so much, but your love for him outweighed the clan, you would go anywhere with madara, even he knew this.

“i am sorry, darling, if i could have known another way, then i would chose it for your sake, but i don’t, i will get revenge on all of them”

“i trust you, i’m worried, but i know you’ll protect me”

“i wish i could have given you a life without war and violence, if i didn’t make it back to you, you unfortunately have my blessing to move o-

“i couldn’t dare be with another, after experiencing you, i only want you, not someone like you. there isn’t a man i know as strong as you, who cares so deeply for the wellbeing of his clan or family,” you said, making him smirk.

“i am amazing, aren’t i?” he snickered.

“yes, so you better come back to me, promise me”

“i promise,” he turned kissing your lips, intertwining your pinkies. he would come back to you, and begin the next stage of his plan and he would spend every moment with you.

♡ itachi uchiha

— to be with this man, you will be find the most precious love, but you have embraced pain and suffering, because that is what you will be rewarded in the end

— he may be a mass murder, but he’s a gentleman to you lol

— he is quiet and very observant, and attempts to be traditional with you, but he isn’t living a traditional lifestyle, so he’ll eventually go with the flow, simply stopping by whenever he is free in between missions

— he isn’t the jealous type, but is protective. he had no intentions of dating, until after meeting you, he is very aware of your attractiveness. he could care less about strangers fawning over you, it is when it begins to become uncomfortable for you that he will intervene

— he’s a criminal so no regular couple activities, but sometimes you’ll make dango together and share them, or he’ll surprise you with breakfast

— he isn’t into pda, but he doesn’t mind having his arms around you, when it’s cold, putting his cloak on your body, or even kissing your hand (if no one is around)

— he listens to you and is very engaged during any conversation with you. he will ask questions and make small comments

— he secretly likes when you are doting on him, especially when he doesn’t feel well

— feeding him soup, placing a cool cloth on his head, helping him around your house, washing his hair, you’re the only person who has ever gotten to see him in such an intimate way

— your last memories with him, he will make sure they are nothing short of sweet, waking before you, surprising you with breakfast, ending the night with a soul crushing hug and kiss. his heart breaking even more, wondering and wishing how your lives would have been if things didn’t end up this way for him

— 8.9/10. other than the lack of normalcy and how he went and let his brother kill him, taking him away forever. he is far from perfect, but he is gentle and vulnerable always and everything he does for or to you, you will be able to see the love being poured into it

“did you enjoy today?” itachi asked, that peaceful smile appearing on his face.

“i did, but i always do,” you told him, as he wrapped his arms around you.

“i love you,” he blurted out.

“i love you too, tachi,” you grinned.

“i never thought i would never love again, after the things these hands have done, to my village, my clan, my parents, my brother-

“stop it, you were a child-

“i was apart of the anbu-

“following orders given to you by your superiors, you sacrificed yourself for them, you did what many could never bring themselves to do,” you told him, beginning to raise your voice.

“alright love, i hear you,” he smiled.

“good, i hate when you talk like that, even if the world hates you for what you’ve done. i love you for what you are,” you told him.

“i have only one regret-

“itachi”

“that i didn’t meet you sooner, or that i wasn’t born in a different village, so that we could have met long ago,” he sighed, reaching for your hand, bringing your fingers to his lips.

“but you have me now, and that’s all that matters,” you reassured him, your smile faltering seeing the sadness in his eyes.

“my baby brother, sasuke, he has grown strong enough to avenge them all,” itachi said, staring at you with a unfamiliar, distant look.

“what are you saying?”

“how did i get so fortunate to meet someone like you,” he said, ignoring your question, reaching to hold your face.

“itachi”

“i don’t think i could ever forget your blissful touch, so determined to make the headaches and fevers go away, and for a time, they did,” he began to wipe away your tears, not allowing them to fully run down your face.

“you're not going to die, stop talking like this, i don't want to hear it,” you said, but he only smiled.

“i'm sorry, my love, could i just hold you tonight? no more talking, just us, and our love” he asked. biting back your tears, you nodded, as he kissed your lips, for the final time, wrapping his arms around you. this would be his last moment with you, before his death.

♡ indra ōtsutsuki

— so sorry for you if it is an arranged marriage because this man will treat you like garbage and not care about how you feel, at all!

— but for the sake of the need for happiness, let’s say he actually fell in love with someone

— he is the type to fall hard, he wasn’t looking for love at all, when you somehow managed to catch his eye, he can't get you out of his head

— he is very lowkey and secretive, so no one else finds out until asura catches him sneaking off from training to surprise you with flowers. he tells their father and when he is back home, he has to hear an earful about keeps something like this a secret

— very obviously old fashioned and leans heavily into society norms, as his partner, your role is to take care of the home-life, especially since you most likely are nowhere as strong as he is

— he is very jealous hearted, however, thankfully, he won’t direct it to you. asura keeps trying to be a little too nice for his liking, he’ll make sure to be rougher than usual, during training. the other men in the village are basically eye fucking you, it’s okay, just know they will disappear only to reappear someplace random, with a nasty bruise or two

— he doesn’t listen but tries to make up for it. you wanted a purple kimono with white flowers on it for your birthday, all he heard was kimono and will gift you a red one with a dragon on it and proceeds to be genuinely confused by your frowning

— once the relationship is no longer a secret, he will always have his hand on your lower back

— he yearns for your comfort and affection. he is stuck with these feelings of rejection, but you are always there to remind him of his worth

— 7.7/10. he may be a menace to many other people, but to you, other than human flaws, he loves so passionately.

“indra…what happened?” your heart sank at the sight.

“don’t look, turn around,” he said. his closest friends, both of them laid dead.

hesitantly, you turned your back to the scene, your breathing becoming rugged, as he wrapped his arms around your body.

“walk forward,” he muttered. he didn’t want you to see what was here. what he had done. to them, his friends since he was a child.

“indra-

“with immense stress and sadness, i’ve found that the sharingan will evolve,” he said, making you turn, facing him. his usual red eyes transformed into a newer version, tears pouring down his face.

“what did you do?” you asked, beginning to choke on your tears, as you held his face.

“i’m stronger than him, why am i not worthy? i helped those stupid people and it wasn’t enough to please father,” he said, the rage seeping from his aura.

“just because he can’t see your worth, doesn’t take away from who you are. you can still teach many people to learn and walk in your ways, indra,” you told him.

“what could you possibly see in someone like me?” he asked bitterly.

“how could i not be so in love with someone like you,” you countered.

“indra, what have you done?” asura and his father approached, making him glare in their direction.

“as many times as i am reincarnated, i will be sure to always find you again,” he said, about to face his brother.

“indra, don’t-

“wait for me, each time, i will always come for you,” he kissed your lips, his susanoo picking you up, tossing you into the nearby wheat fields. getting up to run towards the battle, a few villagers grabbed you, holding you back.

all you could do was cry, they had brought him to this point, it was all of their fault. you would wait for him and be there when he finally got the recognition he deserved.

♡ obito uchiha

— he’s not my favorite, but he is probably the best

— he feels broken, but for you to come along and fall in love with him, he will do everything in his power to not lose you

— you have been around him as tobi and you were amazed by the switch, suddenly he’s goofy and making joke after joke, although, you prefer plain old obito because you love his authentic self

— when it is just the two of you, he’s calm and a bit too serious, but he is very attentive. nothing you say or do goes unseen. from your favorite color to the name of your worst enemy, even if he isn’t responding he’s listening

— extremely jealous, but hides it very well, for your sake. you’re out shopping, he’s dressed as tobi, and the shop owner is staring, occasionally complimenting you too much. he’ll laugh about it as tobi, but come back later to slaughter them

— he is constantly thinking of ways to be romantic, asking konan to teach him origami, picking flowers, trying to learn recipes

— he feels love is rare to come by and the fact that he has found that cares for him genuinely, he wants to make you happy

— it is rare to be with tobi, but if you’re with him, he’ll say something like “lookie here, my angel,” spinning you around or any kind of pda. obito is a bit my hesitant, other than holding your hand or waist

— even in his final moments, his mind will drift to you, you are somewhere far away, safe, and he can’t help but wonder would you be proud of him for doing the right thing in the end

— 9.6/10. a love as pure as this is hard to come by. he loves so deeply and passionately, in the end, he hopes you would forgive him for the evils he has committed and simply remember all of his genuine love

reading a book, you could hear tobi’s goofy voice, making you place the bookmark inside. he was talking to someone. finally, as the the footsteps began to become distant, you sat up.

“hey,” you said shyly, going to stand up, staring at his disguise.

“hey,” he said, as the mask was pulled from his face, as you approached.

pressing his lips against your own, you hummed, breaking the kiss.

“let me look at you,” you smiled, staring at his face, before he covered his face with your hands.

“you don’t want to look at someone like me”

“i actually want nothing more than to look at someone like you, so handsome, such a good boy”

“i haven’t been a good boy, all the chaos-

“for me you have, and that’s all that matters to me,” you smiled, pecking his lips again, before placing a kiss on each of his eyes.

perhaps there was a mistake, he didn’t understand how he of all people ended up with such a beautiful partner, inside and out — but he would love you the best he could, for as long as he could.

♡ sasuke uchiha

— he is very interesting. if you’ve been together since teenagers, he stressed you the hell out and was super nonchalant about it

— if you managed to still be together after everything, then you will get to see firsthand, sasuke trying to unlearn old habits and try to understand how he can love you the way you deserve

— however, if you begin dating sasuke while he has the other emo haircut, then you are experiencing an entirely different person. when his old classmates told you about the things he did, you couldn't even believe them, until he told you it was all true

— sasuke is quiet, a bit awkward at times, but not shy. he will come across as a bit traditional

— he still struggles with being jealous, but not as easily nor as much as when you both were younger. back then, any guy who talked to you for too long was getting threatened by him, now he can't help but be a little upset at your coworkers who get more time with you

— he is terrible with all the new technology, all of the younger kids are using, so expect old fashion, but romantic advances

— writing you small notes, sending you flowers, walking you home from dates kind of man

— he cannot bring himself to do any pda, not even holding hands, the most he can do is walk close to you

— he’s always halfway listening, he gets stuck in his head at times, while nodding at your words. if he were to take you out on a date, he will randomly remember something you said and he will bring it up

— he struggles with communication badly and seems almost childlike with an anxious expression, as he struggles to find the words to say to you

— he feels embarrassed telling you how much you mean to him, so he’ll get you something instead. you didn’t think he was listening when you told him about your favorite fragrance, so he went and bought it, as a surprise

— 9.3/10. he’s trying his best. trying to redeem himself, all while fixing his relationship with you. he still has many things to work on, like his inability to communicate, but your history together, along with the changes he has made, how could you not love that face?

“did you enjoy tonight?” sasuke asked, as your shoulder brushed against his own.

“i did,” you smiled.

“good,” he hummed, before the two of you went back to a comfortable silence.

“sasuke,” a voice called out that you immediately recognized.

“naruto,” he nodded, as the hokage and his wife approached.

“you're back in town and didn't stop by?” naruto grumbled.

“i am spending time with y/n,” he said, making the couple's eyes shift to you.

“y/n? how are you? i haven't seen you in a while,” naruto smiled, as you politely bowed.

“how are you two-

“i need to get y/n to her house, she has work in the morning,” sasuke interrupted.

“you don't live together?” he exclaimed, gaining a few looks from people passing by.

“no-

“maybe after the proposal or wedding,” sasuke shrugged, while your eyes widened.

“that’s great to hear, i better be invited, stop by when you’re free, we have to leave, it’s date night,” naruto winked.

“it was wonderful seeing you again, y/n,” hinata smiled, as naruto excitedly pulled her to the newest ramen restaurant.

once the two of them were gone, you both began walking. nervously clutching your handbag, you didn’t know how to bring up his words-

“what is the matter?” sasuke asked.

“you told naruto we would live together after the proposal or wedding, is that true?” you asked, staring at your feet.

“yes, married couples live together, don’t they?”

“yes, but you’re sure want to do these with someone like me?”

“i haven’t been the best partner to you, and i’m trying to make it up to you, however, my promise is still the same as it was back then,” he said, his hand brushing against your own.

you smiled thinking of the memory, sasuke was leaving, joining orochimaru, when he stopped at your house to say goodbye. you cried bitterly, as he held you close, promising if he didn’t die, and finally became stronger, he would come back for you. he wanted to marry you, and while it wasn’t much of a priority anymore, younger sasuke guaranteed that it was only you, he planned to restore his clan with.

“it was a long time ago, i made those promises, am i someone you'd do these things with?” he asked, hesitantly.

“of course”

“even after everything-

“when you left, i tried dating. it was a failure, none of them were ever good enough. i searched and i couldn't find someone like you, so i decided to wait until you came back to me because i knew you'd get stronger,” you smiled.

“i love you, a lot,” he said, stoically.

“i know dear, i love you too,” you laughed.

quietly huffing, he felt like he was moving in slow motion. for the first time in years, he reached for your hand, interlocking your fingers.

“we should go ring shopping, once you're done with work tomorrow,” he said.

“sounds great, can i ask you a question?” you said, your face burning in exhilaration.

“anything”

“do you still want to restore your clan?”

“only if it is something you wanted, i doubt work would allow me to have too many children, maybe one or two,” he admitted.

“that’s completely manageable, have you ever thought of baby names?” you caught him off guard, but he recovered quickly.

“only if it was a girl, i was thinking sarada, for reasons,” he glanced over at you.

“it's unique, i like it,” you said, as he finally stopped in front of your house.

“thank you for walking me home”

“you are welc-

“would you like to spend the night? i mean, its late and-

“would you be okay with me being here?” he asked, smiling as you nodded shyly.

“lead the way,” he nodded, taking off his shoes, following you into your home for the night.

[papaya-twinks]

nerves - l.n - p.1

Warnings: Swearing, slight sexism, slight angst

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

College/Uni AU

A/N - Other parts, floor plan of the apartment and more is on the masterlist here

Lando groaned, finally shoving off the pillow he’d been using to muffle the sound of knuckles rapping on his door. Who the hell woke someone up so early in the morning? So early at… well, 10 a.m. It wasn’t that early, but still!

“Christ, give a man a moment!” Lando muttered, hurriedly running a hand through his hair before opening the door to reveal his landlord, Mario, standing there expectantly, not looking at all pleased at the fact that Lando had taken so long to answer.

“Do put a shirt on, Lando.” Mario rolled his eyes, gingerly taking one of the plain black T-shirts Lando had thrown aside a few days ago and holding it out to him. Lando grumbled under his breath - an impressive string of expletives - as he pulled the shirt on.

“So, can I help?” Lando asked, his tone already bored and laid-back as he leaned against the doorframe, his curls messy from sleep.

“It’s about your rent, Lando.” Mario’s hands were clasped as he looked over his tenant with piercing eyes.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Lando thought, sighing. “I paid my rent, Mario,” he said, his voice stiff as he moved to shut the door, only to be stopped by Mario’s perfectly shined leather shoe blocking it. Jeez, who even wore a suit so early in the morning?

“You were £100 short, Lando,” Mario said, his voice firm as Lando avoided eye contact, idly playing with his hands and picking at his nails - a habit he’d had since childhood.

“C’mon, Mario, I’m a student. I can’t-,” Lando started.

He sighed as Mario cut him off again. “I’m aware,” the Italian man said, clasping his hands together like some ridiculous businessman. “But this is the fourth month in a row, Lando.” Mario continued, his voice exasperated. Lando groaned in response.

“Look,” Mario said, “I don’t want to kick you out any more than you want me to, but it just isn’t fair to the other tenants who pay the full rent on time,” he emphasized the "on time" to remind Lando he was a week late last month.

“Look, dude,” Lando said, his cheeks flushing a light shade of red. “I’m trying, alright? I’m a student, though-,” he began his protest, but Mario tutted, clicking his tongue.

“Not this again.” Mario waved a hand dismissively. “Lando, you need to deliver the money, or split it.”

Split it? Oh, no, no, no. If there was one thing about Lando, it was that he valued his personal space - and what Mario was hinting at was not his definition of personal space. No, by ‘split it,’ Mario meant getting a roommate.

“I know what you’re going to say, Lando,” Mario said, hands clasped, “and yes, I doubt anyone would want to stay with you either.” He glanced at Lando’s messy bed hair and the room full of junk scattered around.

“Hey,” Lando said, holding his hands up defensively. “This is bed hair! I just woke up! It doesn’t usually look like this!”

Mario rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed at Lando’s lack of understanding of his priorities - getting the rent paid.

"Lando, I’ve given you plenty of time to sort this out. I’m tired of chasing you for the money you owe me! You can’t keep avoiding this - if you don’t find a way to pay, I’m renting the place out to someone else.”

Lando groaned, rolling his eyes at the stupidly formal tone in which his landlord spoke, the attitude grating on his nerves. “And if I don’t?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“You’re leaving, then,” Mario said, his eyes locking with Lando’s.

As much as Lando wanted to refuse and slam the door in Mario’s face, he couldn’t. It had taken him damn near a year to find a place to stay, let alone this one, for his university years, and all the other apartments around campus were full of other students.

Lando sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to think of ways to pay for his place. Maybe ask his parents or family? No, they’d already paid enough of his debt so far… he really didn’t have a choice, did he?

“I’ll get the fucking- damn roommate,” Lando muttered, correcting himself quickly as Mario nodded in satisfaction.

“Get this cleaned up,” Mario said. “She’ll be here in fifteen minutes.”

Lando’s eyes widened as he gaped at the shorter man. “Sorry?” he spluttered. “She-?! And what- fifteen minutes?!”

But by the time he’d settled down and stopped having a mini freak-out in his head, Mario had already turned on his heel and was heading down the hallway.

Lando muttered every curse word he knew as he stormed back into his room, trying to ignore the rush of panic now flooding his veins. Fifteen minutes?

His eyes scanned the disaster area of his room - the laundry that had been piling up for weeks, the empty pizza boxes, a rogue sneaker half-hidden under his bed. Great. Fantastic. He had fifteen minutes to somehow turn this dump into something that resembled a human habitat.

This was going to be a disaster.

Lando began shoving the clothes off the bed, his movements jerky and exaggerated as he muttered under his breath. "How the hell does Mario expect me to have this place spotless in-?” he glanced at the clock, his eyes widening as it ticked down to 13 minutes.

The scent of stale coffee and something vaguely like fast food clung to the air, and Lando gagged. He grabbed a sweatshirt off the floor, unceremoniously tossing it into a laundry basket, before tossing it to the side in favor of grabbing a handful of empty cans from the desk.

“Should’ve definitely thrown these out yesterday… or the day before... or the day before that.” He growled in frustration as the can crushed with a satisfying noise, but the task seemed endless, like some cruel game he hadn’t signed up for.

With a deep breath, Lando ran his hands over his face, steeling himself. It was bad. No, it was horrific.

But somehow, he was going to make it work. He’d just have to hope that the woman didn’t take one good look at the room and run for the hills.

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But finally, after what felt like the hardest fifteen minutes of his life, he managed to get the room…somewhat bearable looking. He’d thrown on a random green sweater, some baggy jeans and some sneakers, looking decent.

He threw a few socks into the wash basket, shutting the doors as he sighed, rubbing his face tiredly.

And just in time for Mario’s same, sharp knock against the door, as Lando gave his hair one last look, before opening it.

As soon as he opened the door, his eyes fell onto your figure, tracing over the small crop top and the shorts you were wearing. The first thing he noticed was you were pretty - but he was still pissed about having to stay with a girl.

You’d probably be some high maintenance chick who insisted on making a mess and stinking the house of nail polish or whatever - and he’d not let your looks get you anywhere in this place, if you wanted to stay, you’d do your share of chores.

“Hi,” you said, a smile on your face as Mario wheeled your suitcases past Lando, ignoring how he bristled, his jaw clenched.

“Hey,” he said, not giving a care for how tense and forced his voice sounded as he stepped aside.

You ignored the firm voice of his, stepping inside as he closed the door, your eyes falling to the…somewhat half-made bed.

“So…” you said, attempting to start a conversation as you walked in front of Lando to your new room, connecting to his with an en-suite bathroom, “how lol have you been here?”.

Lando cleared his throat, momentarily distracted by the way the afternoon sun caught the light in your eyes. Damn, should we’re pretty. But no. He wasn’t going to let his mind wander there. This was a roommate situation, not some- whatever else his brain was trying to suggest.

“A bit,” he said dryly, not caring to make any conversation with you. In his mind, he’d planned it out - you’d stay well out of you way and he’d ‘split’ the chores between the pair of you (though in reality he’d make you do all of them).

“That’s cool,” you said, a little weak at carrying the whole ass conversation.

Lando just nodded, not quite able to hide the irritation in his expression. “Yeah, well... make yourself comfortable. Don’t expect me to clean up after you, though,” he added, his tone biting.

“Yeah, I can clean up after myself, don’t worry about me,” you said, your voice still maintaining its sweet demeanour, rivalling his clearly annoyed tone. God, the way you were so…nice really pissed him off.

Lando clenched his fists at his sides, feeling his frustration build. Don’t worry about me. He didn’t want to worry about you. He didn’t want to worry about anyone. This was supposed to be his space. His sanctuary. Not some shared dorm room.

“Look,” he said, his voice sharper now, “I’m not exactly thrilled about this either, but Mario’s got it all figured out. We’ll split rent, we’ll keep it quiet, and-,” he hesitated, thinking about how much of a disaster this was already shaping up to be, “-I won’t cause trouble, if you don’t.”

“I didn’t come here to mess up whatever…sanctuary you have going on, Lando,” you said, still somehow maintaining a calm and sweet tone as you looked over the sofa, littered were some wrappers - he must’ve missed that.

Lando almost snarled at the way you said his name, like you weren’t in the least bit intimidated. It rubbed him the wrong way.

Flushing, he grabbed the wrapper, stuffing it into his pocket. “Fine,” he bit out, taking a step back. “Welcome to my peaceful existence,” he added sarcastically, voice dripping with distaste.

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Once you’d dropped your bag in the room Mario had shown you and started sorting through your things, Lando thought he might finally get a break. He plopped himself onto the couch, grabbed the controller, and immediately dove into a game.

Something about the mind-numbing, pixelated violence helped him forget that his whole world had just been turned upside down by you.

He wasn’t sure why he was still so angry. He wasn’t a guy who hated everyone, but there was something about you that set him on edge. Maybe it was how effortlessly you just walked in and acted like you belonged here - like you didn’t need to ask for permission.

Maybe it was how you didn’t seem phased by anything. Either way, Lando couldn’t shake the feeling that you were going to make his life a whole lot more complicated.

It wasn’t that you were some annoying, high-pitched bimbo or whatever. He just hated the way you were so relaxed and willing to…cooperate! He didn’t like it. It was…weird.

He lost the next round, swearing under his breath as his character was blown to bits. Of course, he was distracted by thoughts of the damn roommate.

What if you were one of those people who hogged the bathroom for hours, or played music all night, or left food out and made the whole place smell like... whatever it was you ate? Probably sushi or whatever high maintenance girls ate. He hated sushi.

As stupid as his frustrations were…he was almost describing himself. He spent ages in the bathroom fixing his hair, he played music all night and he always had wrappers about.

Great, Lando thought. He was already in a bad mood.

As if on cue, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hall. Lando didn’t even look up. He was too busy trying to beat the next level.

Then, the sound of your voice broke through the focus of the game, sharp and clear.

“Hey, Lando?” your stupidly perfect voice came from the hallway. He groaned inwardly, keeping his eyes glued to the screen. “What?” he grumbled, refusing to shift his gaze.

“Uh, quick question,” you continued, your voice soft but insistent, “Do you have any... bathroom schedule thing, or should I just... wing it?”. Lando froze. His character got shot in the head. He cursed under his breath and paused the game, finally looking at you.

“You want to know about bathroom schedules?” His voice was incredulous, as if you were asking about something ridiculous.

You didn’t seem to care about his tone, standing there with one hand on the doorframe, looking genuinely curious. “Yeah, like, is there a time you prefer to have the bathroom to yourself, or do we just, you know, work it out?”

Lando blinked. He didn’t think you were asking this seriously. “You mean... like, are we going to schedule bathroom time, like some sort of military operation?”

You shrugged. “Well, yeah. I mean, it’s a small place. I don’t want to be in there when you need to use it, and vice versa.”

‘Why does she say vice versa? That’s so weird,’ Lando thought to himself as he turned to staring at the floor once more, his gaze showing his annoyance.

Lando sat up straight, eyes narrowing - he had a bad feeling about this. She probably takes forever in there, he thought. He could already picture it—an hour-long shower, shampoo bottles everywhere, the door locked.

And he’d be left waiting, pacing around, trying to figure out if he could use the bathroom without interrupting your “process.”

“Look,” he said, rubbing his forehead like he already had a headache, “I’m not a bathroom scheduler. I just need to know if I’ve got a window, you know? So I can not get locked out when I need to take a piss.” he waved his hands dismissively, more annoyed by the conversation than he should have been.

You raised an eyebrow, unbothered by his attitude. “Right, but, like, we’re sharing the space. I don’t wanna be stuck in there while you’re waiting to use it. So maybe you could tell me if you usually go in the morning or, I don’t know, at night or something.”

Lando sighed, slumping back against the couch in frustration. “I don’t have a schedule. It’s just when I need it.”

But that wasn’t what annoyed him. What annoyed him was the assumption that you’d need the bathroom for ages, and the fact that now, in his mind, the whole situation felt like a contest over who could take longer in there.

He could already picture it: You’d probably stay in the shower for an hour, do whatever you did with your hair, and leave him standing there, waiting. Meanwhile, he’d just want to brush his teeth and get out.

“I just don’t wanna get stuck behind you if you decide to take a two-hour shower,” Lando muttered under his breath, even though he knew he was being dramatic.

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not going to take two hours, Lando. Just don’t make a scene when I’m in there, okay?”

He let out a frustrated sigh. “Fine. We’ll just... we’ll figure it out. You’ll be in there all day, and I’ll just wait my turn.”

“Exactly,” you said with a grin, turning to leave. “Glad we’ve got that settled.”

As you walked away, Lando just shook his head, muttering curses under his breath. The idea of having to share the bathroom with someone else was bad enough. But now, you—whoever you were—had turned it into some ridiculous negotiation. And for the first time in a while, Lando seriously regretted not looking for a studio apartment.

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It was already 5 p.m., and after what felt like hours of unpacking and trying to make your new room feel at least a little like home, you were staring blankly at your phone. You’d organised your books, set up your desk, and even made your bed - what to do now?

Now, all you had to do was, well, do something. Anything. It felt like the longest, most boring afternoon ever, and you hadn’t made a single friend yet.

The idea of sitting alone in the silence was unappealing, so you turned to the only other person in the flat - Lando.

You walked down the short hall and walked into the living room, watching as he clicked rapidly on the controller, his attention solely focused on the game in front of him.

“Lando?” you said, leaning against the frame. “You wanna watch a film or something? I’m kind of bored.”

The sound of video game bullets and a string of curses spilled out from inside the room before he finally grumbled, “You’re asking me if I wanna watch a film? What is this, a sleepover?” he scoffed, his voice nearly a snap.

You frowned slightly but pushed on. “Come on, it’ll be fun. I could use some company, and you look like you’re about to lose your mind in that game anyway.”

Lando didn’t even look up from the TV, his fingers moving furiously over the controller. “I’m good, thanks,” he muttered, his voice flat. “Not really in the mood.”

You blinked, your shoulders sinking a little at his rejection. You stood there for a beat, wondering if maybe you’d misread the situation. You’d only just moved in, and maybe he just needed some time to warm up to the idea of having a new roommate.

Still, it stung a little. You tried again, forcing a small smile. “Okay, but I’m not letting you sit here alone all night. You need to take a break from that game.”

Lando shot you a look over his shoulder - his face deadpan, eyes dark with frustration. “I’m fine, alright? Go find something else to do, paint your nails or whatever,” he said, raising a voice to a high pitched tone, mocking a bimbo-like voice.

He went back to the screen, clearly signalling that the conversation was over. “You’re so rude,” you said, crossing your arms and refusing to budge as he groaned.

“Yeah? Maybe I am,” he said, “will that make you leave me alone or d’you need more?”. You scoffed, standing up straight. “Whatever! But I’m not a bimbo,” you said, glaring at Lando.

He chuckled darkly - you looked more cute than feisty. “Sure you ain’t sweetheart,” he said, “you just happen to be a well-pampered, pretty little thing but ain’t no bimbo,”.

Your heart sank. You weren’t sure what it was, but Lando’s blatant disinterest was starting to make you feel... unwanted. You hated the way he made it seem like you were some kind of nuisance just for trying to talk to him.

As you walked down the hallway, your heart was pounding in your chest. That was the last time you’d try to make nice with him. Who the hell did he think he was, treating you like that?

You practically slammed your door behind you, breathing hard as you leaned against it, trying to calm down. You hated how his words had gotten under your skin. You didn’t even know him, but somehow, he’d managed to get to you.

You didn’t deserve that. You didn’t deserve to be treated like some shallow girl who only cared about her nails or whatever other stupid thing he thought about you.

You glanced around your room, suddenly feeling even more alone than before. The reality of being stuck in a flat with someone like him hit you harder than expected. You weren’t looking for a friendship, but a little respect wouldn’t hurt.

Sighing, you sank into your desk, staring at your hands, eyes trailing to your nails. You weren’t really paying attention to what you were doing, rather thinking over your last reaction.

You’d been nothing but nice, and Lando was treating you like a burden. A burden. Maybe that was what you were. Maybe you were a bimbo and you didn’t realise you were one.

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Clenching your fists, you dragged yourself from your bed, leaving your phone on your cabinet and making your way to the en-suite bathroom. It was a nice room, with pretty white furniture and a nice, golden-like light. Great for pictures, you thought.

But just as those words entered your mind - you froze. That was such a…bimbo thing to think, you told yourself. You were starting to question yourself… was Lando right?

Whatever.

You wriggled out your outfit, locking both doors connecting to the bathroom as you turned the water on. Sighing, you stepped into shower, your muscles immediately relaxing under the hot water.

You ran both your hands down your hair, slowly massaging your scalp as your teeth sank into your lower lip.

You’d be able to deal with Lando if it meant having hot showers like these every day. Just as your mind slowly fogged up, nothing but the soothing feeling of the water on your body enveloping your naked body-

“Oi bimbo!” Lando called from outside the door as you audibly groaned, turning the water off. “What!?” you exclaimed, clearly annoyed.

“Whatchu doin’ in there? I need my stuff!” Lando said, and god did he sound like a stupid little bratty kid. “Too bad, I’m having a shower,” you said, reaching for the knob to turn the water back on.

“Dude what the hell?!” he groaned, thumping his fist on the door, “It’s not your turn!”.

You blinked, too stunned to fully process what he was saying. "What? You’re seriously mad that I’m in the shower?" you said, almost in disbelief.

"Yeah, I am," he snapped, his voice muffled through the door as he spoke. “It’s not your turn!”

You froze. What the hell was he talking about?

“Turn?” You raised an eyebrow, confusion taking over. “What turn? We didn’t even make a schedule, Lando. It’s just a bathroom,” you said sarcastically through the door, mimicking him.

Lando’s jaw tightened. "Yeah, but I’m the one who needs to use it now. You suggested we get on a schedule, remember? So it’s my turn!" His tone was dripping with frustration, clearly more annoyed at the fact that you’d suggested this schedule idea in the first place.

You couldn’t believe this. Of all things, this was what he was going to complain about?

“I suggested a schedule,” you said, your voice growing more incredulous, “because we’re sharing the space! I didn’t know you’d turn it into some competition about whose turn it is in the shower, Lando!”

“Even if it was a competition, I’d beat you in anything!” Lando scoffed, still twisting and rattling the handle from his side of the room.

Big-headed jerk.

“You said we needed to avoid all this awkwardness,” he huffed, “but now you’re in there, taking your sweet time when you know I need to use it next. You’re being selfish.”

“Selfish?!” you couldn't help but laugh bitterly. “You’re the one who’s making this a problem! I’m just taking a shower!”

Lando was still glaring at the doorframe, his jaw tense as he listened to your argument.

He didn’t get it. None of this had ever been about scheduling bathroom time, or competing over who needed it most. It was about giving each other some space. But Lando, stubborn as ever, didn’t seem to get the bigger picture.

"Whatever, fine," you muttered, your own temper flaring. "I’ll just- I'll be out in a minute." You finished your shower as quickly as you could, the warm water doing little to calm the growing frustration that churned in your gut.

You pulled out your favourite comfy nightdress - a simple, soft fabric in pale pink, perfect for winding down after a long, frustrating day. You walked over to your bed, moving as quietly as you could, trying to ignore the residual tension in the air between you and Lando.

You slipped into the dress, feeling the fabric against your skin. It was soothing, and for a moment, it felt like maybe everything would be okay. Maybe the awkwardness with Lando would settle after a little time.

But you had no idea how long that would take.

You sat on the edge of your bed, staring out the window at the fading daylight. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to try to make things work with your new roommate—it was just that everything felt so much more difficult than it needed to be.

And for now, all you could do was wait for things to calm down.

[deansbite]

Oh My Angel ? — alec mcdowell

— CONTAINS : girldad!alec | mom!reader | heavy angst | possibly implied child murder ( i do not condone murder nor is this fic in any way shape or form supporting it, it is fanfiction ) | grieving | description of blood | dont read the ending | afab!reader | i refer to reader as you

> PS. @a1ecmcdowell made me do it with her hey june fic ( which ghis fic is heavily ib by ). sorry in advance. + i didn’t proofread

— SUMMARY : an unexpected pregnancy falls onto you & alecs lap, causing you both to have a bumpy ride into parenthood due to the circumstances with The Pulse and your medical care — or well, lack there of. although, it doesn’t get any better when you two get to hold your baby.. it actually just gets worse — but you don’t know it.

THE BEGINNING

I hadn’t expected to find out through Logan, of all people, that somethings been going on with you. He told me, in an unexpected way.. which was whilst I paid him a quick visit, that you’ve been feeling quite unwell, you told him but not me, already strange enough.. And he went on, said that you’ve been having ups and downs regarding your physical health. And, as any normal person would do, I worried.

But, it didn’t take me long before I went to your workplace. Jam Pony — where I worked, aswell. Except it was my day off.

Considering Normal was so very fond of me that I could take any amount of time off without him batting an eye. Being the Golden Boy came with its perks and flaws. Today it was most definitely a perk considering I could just waltz in and ask for you.

“Oh, right over there.” directed me to you with a point of his finger.

I immediately made my way to you, putting one foot in front of the other until I reached you at your locker, shoving some random things in there. “Hey.” I greeted you, my green eyes probably proving to you that I had something on my mind. “Oh.” You didn’t seem quite pleased to see me. You looked surprised — given the fact that it was etched into your expression.

“Don’t look too happy to see me.” I replied, the tone in which I spoke in had an edge of concern to it.

“No — no, it’s not you. I just thought you had your day off.” A moment of silence was exchanged between the both of us. “I do.” I sighed, pressing my lips together. “You don’t look too hot.” I pointed out, with furrowed eyebrows. “I just caught a cold, is all.” You answered. “You sure that’s it? Logan seemed to have other concerns.” I finally remarked, a scoff escaping my lips.

“He told you?!” I heard the pissed off tone in your voice. “Just ‘cause he knew you wouldn’t tell me.” I raised an eyebrow, “Care to tell me what all that is about?”

“Look.. I was meaning to tell you but I wasn’t sure how you’d take it. I just.. well, I thought..” You paused. “Can we continue this conversation somewhere where Max, Cindy and Sketchy can’t hear us?” I pretended to think for a moment. “Maybe.” You furrowed your eyebrows. “You came here to talk to me and when I want too you tell me ‘maybe’ what is your logi —”

“Seems to me you still don’t know when i’m sarcastic, baby.” I stifled a laugh that threatend to escape my mouth. “Oh.. oh you annoying little —”

“I gotta stop you right there. You wanna go somewhere more private or do you wanna keep letting me provoking you?” And with that, you grabbed my forearm and dragged me into the backroom of Jam Pony. I waved to Max and Cindy on the way there. They — especially Max seemed uninterested which got a chuckle out of me.

And then the silence engulfed the both of us. “So..” I started, clearing my throat.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner — I was afraid that you wouldn’t stick around. Considering that..” You paused. It developed into silence with tension that I could slice with a knife. “That..?” I furrowed my eyebrows. “You can tell me anything — c’mon I wouldn’t leave you over something small y’know that rig —”

“I have morning sickness.. and i’m late on my period.”

“I think i’m pregnant, Alec”

BUMPY RIDE INTO PARENTHOOD

IT’S been five whole months. The news were shocking, that was for sure and I took a bit to grow used to that fact. Especially since I had to come to terms that I was becoming a father. I didn’t necessairily have any experience, growing up in a laboratory could do that to someone. I mean, I was taught to be an X5, a soldier, a cold-blooded killer. I wasn’t dealt with the best cards since day one.

And now I had to raise a child. The worst part was, I didn’t even know how. I never had a childhood, how should I give another tiny human one? One that’d have my genetics. The same genetics I was given from dear old Manticore scientists.

You didn’t even know I was a transgenic. I wasn’t sure if you’d still love me or want to keep the child after that ( though, you couldn’t exactly abort it if you didn’t, because medical care was impossible to get after The Pulse ).. Because everyone would react completely normal if they’d get told that ‘our baby could possibly have enhanced abilities because of me, sorry!’.

On the positive side, you began to grow a baby bump. You were glowing. And I honestly tried my best to make this ride as stress-free as possible for you.

With my worst attempts, obviously. To name a couple, I sang Oh My Angel to your growing stomach, a couple lyrics i’ve heard from that song back at Manticore. I would also give you massages and joke around with you randomly and not to mention, tease you so you’d be more focused on being annoyed than the unhinged cravings you so badly wanted to give into.

Another one of them was hanging out with our friends. “We aren’t naming the baby DARCY.” Max butted in, shaking her head. “Name him Max.” She suggested, smirking and looked at you. “Why should we name the baby Max? Are you the baby daddy?” I raised a brow as I asked the question. “No, but i’m gonna be his auntie and teach him all sorts of cool stuff.”

“Cool stuff being.. riding a motorcycle and almost degloving your whole arm more than once.” I commented, a laugh escaping me. “We already have one badass we don’t need our little baby here to be another one who possibly gets killed in a motorcycle crash.” You looked at me, then at Max. “What makes you think it’ll be a boy?” The questioned escaped your lips which made me focus on you for a moment, my eyes lingered over your visible bump and then your face.

“Just a feeling, a girls gotta do when a girls gotta do.” She responded, crossing her legs. “She bet on it with Cindy.” Logan corrected, furrowing his brows. “I gotta get my money.” Max added, confident.

The same day, just a little later when Max left with Logan, I was making some pasta you told me you started craving. I wasn’t a chef, God knows I haven’t touched a pan in the entirety of my time on earth. But considering I had enhanced intelligence and I was a transgenic, it shouldn’t be too hard.

“DARCY ain’t a bad name, is it?” I eventually prompted, stirring the pot of raw pasta, picking it up carefully and making sure I strained the water. “We’ll just have to wait and see.” You answered me pretty simply.

I turned my head over my shoulder, my eyes meeting yours as you sat neatly by the counter. I then placed the empty pot to the side. “Meaning?” I prompted, eyes concentrating on you. “Well, I mean if we hold the baby in our arms, we’ll figure it out.” I processed your words, rolling my shoulders in a shrug. “I suppose.” I then continued on with the pasta.

“How come you’re craving pasta today? I barely see you eating any.” I eventually questioned, currently mixing the pasta with the sauce. “The baby asks, the baby gets.” You stated. “Well, I suppose this’ll be practice for our pasta-loving baby in your stomache.” I noted, my voice playful transferring the pasta to a plate. “I guess so.”

“A plate of pasta for the lady and the little one.” I finally said, picking up a fork and sliding the plate of pasta in front of you on the counter. I observed you picking up the fork. “You seem to be doing a lot of work.. research, too.” You mentioned, which was true. I had been reading up on random parental guide books and asking women with babies at libraries for advice, as awkward as it is.

“I guess I just don’t want to fail our little DARCY.”

DAY 1 / 2556

NEWBORN ADDED TO THE FAMILY

TODAY, our little DARCY was born. I held her little tiny body covered in an equally sized blanket. As anyone can find out pretty easily, we found out our princess’ gender. A little baby girl. She was so little I couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. It was the biggest moment of both your life and my own.

I was a father.

I had my own little mini me — mini us in my arms. Her little wailing broke my heart until she calmed down in your arms — and then she was in my own. She was so petite and had the cutest eyes. They were filled with curiosity. I watched as she looked around, no clue in the world. It just made me want to break down into more tears. But I had to stay strong. For our baby. For you.

And for our new little family.

I was afraid. That was something I had to admit. I was afraid — what if I couldn’t be a good father? What if she needed something and I couldn’t give it to her — and you were exhausted so I take care of her and then she starts wailing and screaming — so I stand there cradling her and rocking her back and forth to no avail?

What if she grew up like me?

Became someone like me, a little arrogant and cocky version of me. And no traces of you in her. Apart from physical appearances — because she had your hair color.

And I worry that i’ll be a bad influence on my little princess. Make her keep others at arm length. Because I want her to be like you. I want her to be independent and isn’t afraid to get what she wants. But what if i’ll be in the way of that —? And that causes her to hate me because she grew up to be just like me. A cold hearted soldier.

What if she had enhanced abilities like him? And she would be an outcast all her life.

But then I look down at her in my arms. Her little tear-filled eyes looking up at me. She couldn’t cry because she’s been at it for more than an hour, and her little tear — engine ran out. You’ve been knocked out for a bit. So I spent time with our little baby.

“Hi.” I whispered, feeling my posture soften with her little head tilt to get a better look at me. “Who am I? Who is this big giant holding you in his arms and saying hi to you, little one?” DARCY looked confused which got a chuckle out of me. I never thought I would feel comfortable having a daughter and slipping into the role of a dad especially with my environment when I grew up. But she made it all worth it. All the pain led me down the path to have her.

“C’mon, don’t look at me like that.” I held her close and made sure to support her head as I stepped to the crib in the room, my shoes clanking against the hospital ground. “You got a judgmental glare, little lady, you’re gonna get grounded a bunch when you’re older with that look.” I playfully scolded DARCY with an unintentional parentese I hadn’t noticed I added.

She reached up with her hand barely the size of my fingertip and wrap her miniature fingers around my fingertip.

I felt my heart clench with just how adorable she was being. “I’m sorry, your highness. You win with that cute little move. I surrender. No ones gonna ground you, angel.” and then her eyes fluttered shut. “But I suppose we gotta get you all ready for bed, dont we?”

I rocked her as gentle as I possibly could back and forth, my eyes focused on her.

“Oh my angel,” I started, being careful to do it quiet enough so you wouldn’t stir awake.

“Come back — to me.”

“And I will love you,”

“ 'til eternity.”

“Oh my angel.” I bent over the crib, as cautious as I could to not drop DARCY too fast and make sure to place her down carefully, making sure to remove the blanket she was tucked in to then place ontop of her, so she could still move around. I noticed her little onesie from the hospital. My gaze softened and I watched her chest rise and fall before a quiet voice dragged me out of thought.

“And you were worried that you wouldn’t be a good dad.” You pointed out, I rolled my eyes whilst I turned around to face you. “I don’t know what you’re on about.” I spoke softly and acted clueless.

“Oh, sure you don’t. You totally fell inlove with her the moment you held her.” You murmured. “Aren’t you supposed to be asleep?” I rolled my eyes and approached the side of the hospital bed, leaning over and placing a kiss on your lips. “You just pushed out a whole human from your body.” I mumbled, concern evident in my voice.

“Oh? Is Mr. Cocky concerned about my well-being?” You acted surprised. “Shut up.” I groaned. “You’re so annoying.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Funny considering I used to say that about you.”

“Is it too late to say I hate you?” I grumbled, pressing a kiss on your forehead.

“Pretty sure it is, yeah.”

DAY 84 / 2556

FIRST SMILE

IT’S been three months since DARCY entered our life. You’ve been working at Jam Pony on and off just helping Normal get packages to deliver considering you just wanted a breather so I decided to take care of DARCY. She’s growing so fast, it’s absurd. I honestly can’t keep up with her.

There are moments where I freeze due to not knowing what I could do to stop her from screaming and crying. It wasn’t often, but it also wasn’t rare. And it made me feel useless.

Because nine times out of ten, whenever I gave her to you, she’d be able to calm down in an instant. It was clear, you were her mother. I wasn’t, and she was spending nine whole months in your womb. But I just wanted to able to care for her without needing you to stop whatever you were doing just to help me out.

With time, I just felt like an awful father. Especially now that you were out and about more often and I was basically a stay—at—home dad and I had a tear-soaked shirt from our baby in my arms.

Though, I feel like I finally did something right. Today she’s been quite observant. Eyes locked onto my face as her hand lifted and she grasped at the fat of my cheek. “Oh — oh, sure I guess.. that’s better than having you crying.” I head to the couch with her bottle in my hand, shaking the baby bottle so the formula can mix well together. With me walking forward, placing one foot in front of the other and having the wooden floorboards creak or groan here and there, with her in my arms, she started to grab at my eyelashes.

I shut the eye she was grasping the eyelashes from and squinted with the other, scrunching my face together. “Attacking and pulling at my innocent eyelashes, are we? That’s very un-lady like, angel.” I scolded lightly — trying to focus on walking and not dropping her or the bottle before settling on taking a seat.

I sat on a beanbag in her nursery and slowly tried to pull her away from my face. I then leaned back on the back — rest part of the sofa and placed her little formula bottle on a nearby table.

My emerald green eyes focused on her. Now I had both arms supporting her tiny chest. She was wearing a soft red onesie with little yellow seed patterns around, like a little strawberry. I lifted her up and down. “Oh.. oh! And she’s taking off!” I gasped and had a very bad attempt at a sound effect of what was supposed to be a rocket taking off as I raised her up, her feet not touching my chest. “She’s up in the sky! And.. whoosh!” I turned her left and right.

“Now she’s coming back down..” I slowly settled her so her weight was supported by my hands and her feet on my chest, before I brought her face to mine. “And she’s getting kisses from her daddy.” I let my lips connect with the soft skin of her cheek, her forehead, head and basically everywhere on her face. “Gotcha!” I said, enthusiastically.

I pulled back DARCY a little to get a good look at her face and then I saw the corners of her tiny mouth curled up into a tiny smile as she swung her hands around from joy.

Her first ever smile. She was precious.

She babbled and giggled, her hands coming up to rest on my face. My emerald green eyes focusing on her emerald green eyes. She looked just like you smiling. She had everything in common with you, physically, apart from the eyes.

“Oh my god, that’s a little smile, isn’t it?” I felt my heart melt at the sight.

“And Mr. Cocky is no longer cocky but a big ol’ softie. Do I call you Mr. Softie now?” I heard you tease as my eyes shot toward you. “Oh — hey, you’re home. Also.. no idea what you’re talking about. Anywho.. well, I thought you had to work the night shift..”

“Normal freaked out when Max threatened to punch him, especially since he supposedly had a date and told us we got to go home earlier.” You explained, putting your things down. “How’s our little girl doing?” You asked whilst she pinched my cheeks and leaned forward, trying to mimic the way I gave her kisses earlier. “Happier than usual.” DARCY then babbled. “See, her highness agreed herself.”

“Dah” DARCY babbled once more, squeezing at my cheek. “Yeah, exactly, Dah.” I nodded and softly pinched her cheek between my index and thumb. “Three months old and she’s babbling and cooing like crazy.” You mentioned, my eyes flew to yours. “Just like you.” I teased, laughing.

“Not true!” You gasped. “In fact, very untrue!”

DAY 152 / 2556

DADDYS WORST NIGHTMARE ; TEETHING

DARCY was five months old now. I was working my ass off to keep her sheltered and safe. I had a whole list of things I had to be very careful with before handling her. She was so miniscule and helpless, relying on both of us to take care of her. Hence why I wanted to keep her as satisfied as possible — well.. as satisfied as you can keep a baby.. which isn’t as easy as other people might make it seem.

Although, today, I had a bottle of milk. So I was going in to feed her some more. And as I tried to put the bottle in her mouth, she looked confused before she started flinging her arms around and spat it out, her eyes filling with tears.

“DARCY? Angel, are you not hungry?” I asked, concern evident in my face. I got up and put the bottle to the side, going to her and I wrapped my arms around her, taking her out of the high chair and cradled her, supporting her head and neck. “Oh, honey.” I frowned as she wailed in my arms, her eyes squeezed shut and mouth open as shouts and cries escaped her. And I reached to take her bib off.

I stood up from the chair and started rocking her, “Princess, what’s wrong?” I whispered, her little arms still flung around as she kept her ear-piercing cry going. “Shh, shh.” I tried to figure out what she could possibly need. She was definitely not hungry. “Are you sleepy? Do you need to burp?”

Safe to say, the rest of the day was me panicking and running around the house, trying to figure out what on Gods green earth she could possibly need. Her cries didn’t stop, at all. Which just made me feel so helpless. My little princess just cried in my arms and I didn’t know how to stop it. God, what type of a father was I? Letting my baby girl cry on for hours.

And then I realized when I was exhausted and holding her in my arms in her little nursery, that teething could be it. I pressed my lips together and before I do something I researched about — because yes, I care enough to do research.. I washed my hands thoroughly, and made my way back to her nursery.

I bent over her crib and gently picked her up once again, she was still sobbing and clung to me. She was relying on me, so I had to do something about it. I sat on a chair, settled on it before making sure she was settled and comfortable on my lap.

Then I put my thumb in her mouth to gently rub her gums. They seemed swollen and that just made my heart ache. DARCY seemed to calm down just a little after I kept up the massaging for a little longer. It seemed to ease my worries, too because I finally felt like I could help her. Be her protecter like I had intended to be. Be there for her unlike me — who had nobody to turn too.

I watched as she opened up her teary green eyes and focused them on me. She seemed curious and still a little in pain, but she just looked at me with her little green orbs.

With a tilt of her head, I relaxed in the chair after what felt like ages. I was exhausted, that was for damn sure. I ran left and right and tried to figure out why she was screaming her tiny little lungs out just for it to be due to teething.

But it was worth it seeing her calm down because I helped her.

DAY 365 / 2556

FIRST WORDS AS A TODDLER

SHE was so little just yesterday — I could’ve sworn she was as big as my bicep just a couple days ago. She used to be a little baby crying over everything with those big tear-filled emerald green eyes. Always spitting out the food I tried to feed her. Refusing to cooperate whenever I tried to change her diapers or even confusing me when she cried for no absolute reason.. And now it was her first ever birthday. She was already moving her mouth as if she were about to speak.

I probably would’ve broken down into tears had I not wanted her to look up to me and wanted to think her daddy was brave. Even if she’d forget everything sooner or later.

Little DARCY already a toddler, running around and picking up random objects. Running back to me because she found something and then shows me how to use it ( visually, we aren’t exactly at the point of verbal yet, she’s still too young for that ). Then she’ll give it to me and wait for me to redo every step she did and then wait for her approval, meaning if I had to do it over again or if she was pleased and let me off the hook.

She was precious. Her little emerald green eyes looked like one of a does. They were so big and innocent. Especially with the fact that she was just barely reached a little more than my knees. She had your face — and hair color.. her skin was a mix of both yours and mine.

Today, she seemed impatient, tugging on the fabric of my pants. Her eyebrows were furrowed and she had the cutest expression — where she tried so hard to look mad but ended up looking just so sweet. Her lips pressed together into a pout and her head tilted up to look at my face. “Mah..” She babbled, and I didn’t think much of it before she whined. “Dada!” And that made me pause.

“Dada..” She so desperately wanted my attention. She softened her expression into just a pout. “Dada!” She repeated, pointing at the sink. “Aba.” Back to her little babbles. She then formed her fingers into a C shape to make it seem like she was holding a cup to then signal that she wanted a glass of water.

I was able to compose myself enough to get what she wanted so she didn’t think I was neglecting her. But she said her first word. “Water?” She nodded and I crouched down just a little to grasp at her little hand. Then I felt her tiny hand in mine.

Her hand was still so tiny in comparison to mine. But enough to be able to hold it in my own. And then I slowly moved to the sink in the kitchen in the same speed as DARCY moved, to not overwhelm her. “C’mon, up goes the elevator.” I told her, crouching down fully and stretching my arms out as she let go of my hand to jump into my arms. Her tiny arms barely wrapping around my neck.

And then I wrapped my arm around her, supporting her body as I slowly rose to my feet, she gasped and giggled as I felt her wiggle her legs once they were off the ground.

I reached up and opened a cupboard, grasping for a cup and turning the tap on. “Cold?” She looked at me confused. “Coo — ld?” I said once again, but slowly speaking out every word before she hesitantly nodded. “Whatever you want, princess.” The water hitting the bottom of the sink repeatedly echoed in the silent room.

I reached forward with the cup and filled it with water. “Who am I?” She let one arm go to close and open her hand repeatedly, mimicing a ‘gimme, gimme’ motion.

“Dadaaa!” She huffed, very obviously annoyed with the angry expression. Which reminded him of you. “You two could be the same person.” He grumbled under his breath. “I am dada, yes, good job, angel.” I snickered and brought the cup to her lips. “Drink up.” I watched as her free hand grasped the cup that was bigger than her hand and try to hold it alongside my own hand. “Good girl.” I said, removing the cup from her mouth.

“Drank all of it so quick. You were really thirsty.” I commented, heading to a towel with her in my arm and wiping her mouth with it, all so carefully.

I then tried to place her back on the ground but she refused. “Bah.” She shook her head and I brought her back up into my arms, adjusting my hold on her. “But you’re a big girl, you can walk, princess.” She looked insulted, clearly. And then I laughed, which caused her to break her little act and cause a giggle to escape her lips.

She doesn’t even know the lengths i’d go to be able to keep that smile on her face.

DAY 730 / 2556

UNUSUAL BEHAVIOUR

SHE looked at me with her arms crossed over her chest. “No!” the word that she’s learnt from no other than you. You were being sassy to me and DARCY overheard, which then made her believe that she could be just like you even more and decide to go against my every word. Today being no different. She was throwing yet another tantrum. “You have to sleep, princess.” I was crouching and cupping her face.

“I not sleepy.” She pouted with furrowed eyebrows. “What if we snuggle, hm?” I suggested, raising an eyebrow. She seemed to think about it. “I can join.” You butted in, crouching beside me. “Whad’ya say, little miss?” I questioned, a grin on my face. “But.. blankie evil!”

We both exchanged a look between eachother. “Blankie evil? How? Tell us, we’ll protect you.” I said, slowly ripping my gaze off you and onto the tiny two-year old rascal.

“Blankie trapped me!” She whined. Which elicited an over-exaggerated gasp from me. “No! Really?” You added, jaw dropped. She nodded her head up and down in a quick motion. “Do you have a boo—boo?” I asked, my voice in a low whisper. “Boo—boo?” You bit back a laugh as you looked at me. “Shut up.” I said through gritted teeth.

“No..” DARCY answered my question pretty much quickly after. “And we’ll both be there for you and save you if blankie tried to trap you.” I told her, pressing a light kiss on the top of her head. Her eyes darted between both you and me. Her eyes brighter than ever. “Promise?”

I blinked, “I promise, princess.” I looked over to you. “I promise, too.”

I wasn’t expecting parenting to be easier than what I imagined it to be ( obviously, considering I was the one who thought that ). But in all honesty, I thought raising DARCY would be catastrophic. Explosions and world war breaks out. But I seemed to be doing well — so far. At least I hoped so. She seemed at ease around me. Or maybe that was because of you.

Because you’ve been doing a great job, honestly. It was shocking how well you kept up mentally and were able to stay strong — especially given the fact that you didn’t exactly have DARCY with your own choice. You didn’t have a choice because abortions were hard to get your hands on now — a — days.

I couldn’t help but think. Of course, you tell me I was a good father. But I simply just dropped the asshole act around her. She seemed to have loads of your characteristics.. which I was glad about.

And then I got brought back to now. I was holding her hand alongside yours as I head up the stairs — yes, stairs. I know my apartment doesn’t have stairs within the apartment but.. well, I may or may not have stolen some cash from a rich dude and bought a better house for DARCY to be able to live in. But hey.. no judging — i want

only the best for my little girl.

I watched as she struggled on a couple stairs before bending over slightly and picking her up, holding her close to my chest with my arm supporting her weight. I did almost slip.. and fall, but you holding my hand managed to balance me. “I will not be thanking you.” I replied, in a way more sassy tone than I intended. “Oh, okay, I hope you know I hear all that sass.” I rolled my eyes and kept going up.

“Good for you.” I heard you let out a laugh. “Your cocky and arrogant behaviour used to make me so mad — now it’s just funny because you’re so gentle. Who knew being a girl dad could change a man this much?”

“Uppie!” DARCY randomly blurted out whilst clapping her hands together and her eyes flew between me and you. “Yes, baby, uppie.” You replied, your motherese slipping out. “Says the one who became so freakin’ cute after having a baby.” I pointed out, a stupid grin on my face. Then I felt DARCY shift around in my arms once we reached her room.

“Look, daddys got you, princess, blankie won’t hurt you.” I reassured her, rubbing her back with my free hand and urged you to follow us into the room.

She looked around the room frantically, as if her blanket would come out and attack her. But, I read up and already knew kids could have irrational fears at her age. Hence why patience was all she needed including a bit of safety so she knew that she had nothing to be afraid of. “Can you grab her stuffed animals?” I whispered to you, slightly rocking my body back and forth.

“Mhm.” I watched you go around her bed and bend over, picking up her rabbit stuffie and dinosaur stuffie. “Look who’ll be joining us!” DARCY gasped. “Mr. Din-din!” I slowly lowered her on the ground as she rushed over ro your side.

“Mr. Car-car!” I crossed my arms over my chest and laughed. She was so happy about them it was absolutely heart-warming. She then raised her arms up at you, opening and closing her hands. “Me want up!” She pouted before you picked her up and handed her the two stuffed animals. “You gotta sleep, honey.” We both said simultaneously. “Otay..” ( that’s literally how she pronounced it, don’t make fun of me )

DARCY then got brought to her bed, you placed her down ever so gently. She seemed freaked about the blanket but nonetheless, I settled on the bed beside her alongside you on the other side of her. “Snuggles!” She exclaimed, grinning. And then I wrapped an arm around her, meanwhile you threw her blanket over all of us, yes, including the stuffed animals.

“Daddy..” She whined, grasping at the white fabric of my tee. You turned behind you to turn on her night light and then I focused on her. “Yes, princess?”

“Song sing..” I paused, “You want the song?” She nodded eagerly in response. My eyes shot to yours and you shuffled around on the tiny bed to fit yourself onto the tight space and cuddle up to her other side.

“Anything you want, princess.”

DAY 1095 / 2556

NEW THINGS GOOD & BAD

DARCY was playing around, as usual. A three year old should start to get around more and do things. I read that in a book — yes, I read when I want too. I am a transgenic and intelligent.. doesn’t mean I knew how to raise children. So, I sat down and I read a book about how children act throughout the years. I wanted to be the best daddy for my princess — or prince if DARCY were a boy, of course.

Speaking of her, she took me out of my train of thoughts. “Daddy! Look, that.. that is one tree!” She shouted, pointing at it, she was extremely proud of herself as she ran around on the playground. I was sat on a picnic blanket next to you. “Good job, sweetheart.” You shouted and clapped, cheering her on.

“Careful, angel. Don’t fall!” I yelled, intensely watching her as she began to run around as fast as she could. I lifted my eyes off her for a moment and glanced at you. “I never expected to have a little family with you.. this soon. And.. see DARCY so happy with the.. pulse, trashy town and all.” I finally admit to you, watching as you glared at me. “Me either.”

“She reminds me of you.” I mentioned, my emerald green eyes focused on yours.

“And she reminds me of you, too.”

I leaned forward, cupping your face, connecting my lips with yours, feeling you kiss back.

A shriek made me jump back, eyes wide. “What? —” You looked surprised, too. And my eyes searched around the park. My eyes landed on DARCY laying on the concrete, holding her leg in pain. I immediately sprang toward her, hearing you close behind me. “Angel, angel! Baby, i’m here, i’m here.” I reassured her immediately whilst dropping down onto my knees.

“Are you okay?” You asked, holding the back of her head and helping her sit up slowly. She had tear—filled eyes. “It hurts.” She whined, shaking her hands around and wailing in pain.

“Angel..” My eyes inspected her head, trying to see if theres any injuries there. I didn’t catch any so I inspected her legs, and then I noticed her pants torn open at the knee, she scraped her knee on the concrete. I hissed at the blood that stained the dark fabric. “It’s okay, we’re here. Y’know what, scratch me.” She shook her head. “I dooon’t— wanna hurt you.” She dragged out a couple letters due to her crying.

“Can you bring the medkit?” I asked you, raising an eyebrow. “You brought a medkit? ” “Just incase something like this happened. It’s in my bag.” I pressed a kiss on your cheek before holding up DARCYs head.

“It’s okay, daddy’s here and i’ll make sure it’ll all go away.” I whispered, easing her fears as I picked her up gently and placed her on my lap.

I watched as her emerald green eyes followed you as you ran back. You crouched down, opening up the medkit and beginning to scramble for items. “Sterile wipes for the wound.” I said, eyes focusing on DARCY. “Antiseptic for around the room.”

You gathered everything, “How do you even know all this? I didn’t know you studied medicine —” “Not medicine, just got a lotta wounds to patch up.” It was a half—lie.

DARCY winced when you began the cleaning but I tilted her head up, pointing at a bird in the sky. “Look! That’s a birdd.” I added some more toning to the word bird, and she looked curious. “Can birds fly?” “Yes, angel.” “Can we?” “With a plane.” “What is.. a plane?” “A metal box that can bring us places in the sky.” “Can we go on one?” “Soon.” I laughed at her suddenly forgetting about her wound and jumping to ask questions almost immediately.

“Has daddy had ouchies before?”

“Mhm.”

“Are ouchies bad?”

“I think of ouchies like.. you went through an adventure, the scar of an ouchie reminds you of it. Ouchies can be good and bad.” I tried to make her look at the positive.

“So.. is my ouchie cool?”

“It’ll heal and be the coolest thing ever.” I paused, thinking what to say next. Before I parted my lips, sucking in a breath, “New things can be good and bad. It just matters how you handle it, angel.”

DARCY looked at me with big, curious eyes. “New things.. can.. can be gooood and bad.” She slowly repeated, making sure each word was the same way I pronounced it, tilting her head. “New things.. can be good and bad!” She repeated, this time much more confident with how she said it.

“Exactly.”

DAY 1461 / 2556

PUDDLES AND RAIN

DARCY was just growing up — way too fast. I mean, I could just.. remember her being tiny and — her tiny fingers barely overlapping when they curled around my finger. And now here she was, going backwards and telling me too — “Look! Daddy. I can walk!” I laughed, nodding. “Backwards.” I corrected, crossing my arms over my chest.

We were quite a bit away from home since I picked her up from Logans place — since both he and Max offered to babysit so me and you had time for ourselves. And, lucky for us, it started raining when I had no rain jacket with me and brought one for her just incase.

So now I was soaking wet and having to make sure she didn’t do anything stupid, like run onto the street and get hit by a car.

But the only stupid thing she was doing was genuinely just.. stupid toddler things. And I didn’t complain. That over — deadly stupid things. And she seemed to be having fun. Until — “Daddyy, can we dance?” I was baffled. “In the rain?” My voice was filled with surprise. “Pleasee.” Her tiny, high-pitched voice caused me to break.

“Fine.” And so I reluctantly agreed, reaching out and spinning her around in a puddle. As she stomped whilst dancing and proceeded to splash me with it. “Oh my god —” I bursted out laughing. “Oopsie..” She exclaimed, covering her mouth in surprise that she did that.

I rolled my eyes playfully.

“You’re such a little rascal.”

And she reminded me of you.

DAY 2191 / 2556

HEART OF GOLD

OUR little girl all grown up. Six years old was — an accomplishment. For me.. at least. Especially in this environment and.. the wages we had to live off of. You were still working at Jam Pony, full time whilst I went back to work on and off. Taking care of our girl was most important.

I always wondered how she grew up. Given the circumstances. I wondered if we — I fucked her up in some way.

Having a transgenic as your father could fuck you up in ways — you just wouldn’t notice. At least, until now, I found no trace of her being a transgenic-human mutant thing. Like me. Again, only thing we had in common, our eye colour nothing more, thankfully.

But God, she had a heart of gold. For example, we walked past a garden and she noticed an little boy upset. And she head toward her. “Hi!” She greeted, all cheerful and happy. That big grin displayed upon her lips. “Hi.”

“My name’s DARCY.” A moment of silence exchanged between them “Mine is.. Peter.” “Daddy told me being alone when sad isn’t always...what people want.” DARCY waited a moment before adding, “Do you.. want to be alone?” “No..” Peter replied. And with that, she stood there. And she began making conversation. She was smiling and giggling the whole time. Peter slowly joined along. Her laugh mingling with his in the air.

I was sure she made his day by being so warm and friendly.

Wonder how she got so wise.

DAY 2555 / 2556

GOODBYES

TODAY was the last day i’d see her.

Today was the last day i’d see her.

Today was the last day i’d see her.

Today was the last day i’d see her.

Today was the last day i’d see her.

I couldn’t say that one single word. It was too much. Saying that one word made it official. Too official. I just can’t — right? I should be protecting her. Not whatever i’m doing. I can’t. I should be fighting for her. No child should hear the word ‘Goodbye’. I am the worst father in the world. A disgrace. I got a gift, a blessing. My DARCY. And i’d be throwing it in the trash.

They told me they‘re going to get her and

The ink was blotchy from there forward, making the words unreadable. Fingertips went beneath the next page, a moment of hesitation. You turned the page.

DAY DAY 2556 / 2556

?

SHES gone. I failed her.

JOURNAL ENTRIES ; FINISHED

WHAT THE FUCK?

The journal ended there. Confusion and fear filled you reading those pages. Why did he keep track of her since birth? Was Alec insane? Did he do something to DARCY? Those questions lingered in your head far longer than anticipated. You knew your little girl had been gone for a month or so. But Alec seemed too busy at the Crash, drowning himself in alcohol.

Even though he never got drunk.

You didn’t know why. It was fucking strange. You spent hours looking for her. And then you stumbled upon a box. Hidden in the ceiling in a little box in the corner. And you found thirteen journals. Each year — except seven had two journals he could write all 365 days in. But he highlighted some.

Were those his favorites? Did he lose his shit and imagine someone came after your daughter when in reality, he was the danger all this time? You shook your head. You shouldn’t try to get conspiracy theorist on a guy who spent day and night showering her with love.

He must’ve had a logical explanation. Right?

Tears filled your eyes. You prayed you were wrong. That you didn’t stay with the man who ultimately turns your life upside down for some sick reason.

And for DARCYS sake.

“I didn’t fucking do anything to her! Why are you accusing me of such utter bullshit!?” Alec shouted, he was fuming. “I loved her to fucking pieces! That was the only wrong I did. I made those journals to read back incase I forgot anything!? Is that such a fucking crime?!”

You stared at him. “Your last entry?” “If you wanna kep on with your conspiracy theories, what’s the fucking point?!”

STRAIGHT TO THE POINT

Alec glared at the men beside Elizabeth Renfro. “As you may know.. manticore was.. well, burnt to the ground. And I.. well, I made another one just incase.. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” She trailed off topic due to Alecs disgusted yet surprised stare. “You’re supposed to be dead.”

“Max told you that? Did she ever bother to check my pulse before leaving?” She questioned. Alec went silent. “As I was saying. You’ve got a pretty little partner. Young.. sweet, inlove with you.” Alec scoffed. “Get to the fucking point you old shit —” “They’re pregnant.” “Surprise..? I don’t know where the fuck this is going.” Alec rubbed his temple in frustration.

“We want the child.”

“Over my dead body.”

“I assumed you’d say that. Well, X5-494. You give me the child with legal rules or we will kill your family.” Alec stared at her in disbelief. “You wouldn’t kill a pregnant person —” She laughed, “Oh, no, I wouldn’t. They would, though.” She gestured to the men behind her. “The offer I give you is better than what others wanted. You see.. you can keep the child until the age of seven. After the seventh birthday, my men will get the child. And if you are lucky enough and the child is human.. you’ll get them back. However, if not, we’ll keep them.”

“Fuck you, you sick bitch.” He spat, utterly disgusted by her. “We’ll send you the contract soon.”

“Pleasure doing business with you.” She said with a smile.

MY BABY

Alec stopped pacing, now leaning over the kitchen counter with his hands on his face. “I am a fucking transgenic. A human-like scientist experiment designed to be a fucking soldier. I escaped but manticore seemed to fuck me in the ass.” Alec ran his hands through his hair. “They made a deal to get her at seven years old. If not, they would’ve killed you.” He explained, not really caring if you decided to believe him or not, anymore.

“You’re insane.” You told him, with a shaky voice. “Believe whatever the fuck you want.” Alec was staring at the counter. All he could think of was his baby.

You immediately scrambled to get out of there. You grabbed a few vital things you needed before making yoir way out. “You should’ve helped her, you monster.” Was all he heard from you before his ears echoed the front door slamming shut. Now he was alone with his thoughts. Fuck.

“Daddy?” DARCY called out, heading to the kitchen. Her beady emerald green eyes focusing on me. “I lost my bag at school toooday.” She explained. Alecs gaze softened when his eyes landed on her. He lowered himself onto his knees to be eye level with her. “That’s okay, angel, we can get you a new one.” He reassured, tears filling his eyes.

“Are you okay, daddy? Why are you crying?” She asked, eyebrows furrowed and eyes filled with concern when she should’ve been happy.

“I failed you.” He whispered, hands reaching out to her. “No you didn’t.” She shook her head and wrapped her tiny arms around him. “I love you, daddy.” And then the tears kept flowing. As he went to wrap his arms around her figure — she vanished. And everything seemed empty once again.

He was on his knees, hallucinating his fucking daughter. He has lost it.

OH , MY ANGEL

There was an empty promise I gave DARCY when she was still tiny. ‘I will always protect you.’ And it was outright nonsense. Because he knew from the start he had limited time with her. The journals were to honour her memory — incase..

But that wouldn’t happen. Because he was now going into the manticore building to see his little angel. Have her in his arms again. As long as they haven’t finished their testing — they allowed him to see her now. He wasn’t ready to see her. Seeing her trapped in the very place he was stuck in and so desperately wanted to get out of.

Max was waiting for him outside just incase. And he entered the freshly made Manticore building through the big.. doors.

Two soldiers guided him down the hall. He wasn’t sure what to feel when his eyes flew around the place. The place looked like a mental institution. White, glossy walls paired with gray, marble floor. His eyebrows furrowed in hesitation when a guard put a keycard into some sort-of machinery next to some metal doors.

Uncertainty filled him but he proceeded. Stepping forward. One foot in front of the other. Ever so carefully. His eyes darting around for any bad sign.

And he got what he was looking for.

His heart dropped. And his ears started having a high-pitched ring. The hallway that led to the room the guards brought him too —

Blood.

A path of blood. It was smeared from the room down the hall. It slowly started disappearing at one point.

He paused. The thick maroon colored liquid was blending with the gray floor. He forgot how to breathe, his eyes welled up with tears. And then the guards brought him closer to the room. A bigger puddle of that thick, deep red colour. It was so vibrant — and it most likely came from his little girl.

He had failed her.

He was doomed to be a terrible father from the start.

The song he sang to her seemed hypocritical now. Because it could be interpreted as him singing about her.

“This fire in my — heart,”

“consumes my — happiness.”

“Since we.. are apart,”

“I have nothing.. to hope for,”

“I have nothing.. to cling to.”

“Life for me — has no meaning darling,”

“if I have — to live — it without you.”

“Oh my angel,”

“come back — to me.”

“And I will.. love you,”

“ ‘til eternity”

“Oh my angel.”

[try-set-me-on-fire]

Tagged by @iinryer @butchdiaz and @eddiebabygirldiaz to do a 2024 year end fic round up! 125,710 words over 26 fics… damn… at least one fic a month and now I desperately want to try and finish something in the next few days so I dont break that streak for December… we’ll see… okay here we go! Thank you to everyone who’s read anything of mine, I had a lot of fun writing and I hope you had fun reading!

January

I got love to give, and give and give 1,638 words, rated T, melancholy and fluff, Hen and Buck bestieism

“What’s up with you, Buckaroo?” She laughs, poking his silly cheek.

“I love you,” he says, so sweet, looking even happier just to say it. “So much, Hen. Do- did you know it?”

“Yes,” she says, laugh still in her voice but chest a little tighter. “I know it, Buck.”

He drops his cheek to her shoulder, and then turns his head quick to kiss the spot. “Good. You’re the best. You should know it, a- a hundred- a thousand percent.”

—

Hen thinks about Buck at a party

the more we move ahead the more we’re stuck in rewind 4,278 words, rated T, the Buckley’s bad parenting

Bobby frowns at his phone, then leans over to show the screen to Buck. “May keeps sending me these memes,” he says the word wrong, and it makes Buck’s eyes sting for some reason. “And I just don’t understand what on earth this is supposed to mean.”

Buck coughs, mostly to cover up for the way his eyes are watery, and blinks at the screen. He doesn’t know how to say thank you, for any of it, but maybe he can at least figure this out.

—

After the factory fire, Buck’s parents show up at the station. It goes poorly. Written for the bad things happen bingo prompt: backhand slap.

only the best will do 801 words, rated G, silly wedding fluff

Buck gets a little intense about wedding planning. Chimney hides in the kitchen. Eddie is a man in love.

February

and I know I should go but I’ll probably stay 2,535 words, rated T, buddie hurt comfort

It’s unpleasant, enough that Buck screws his eyes shut and breathes and tries to pretend he’s someplace else. Chris is at the Wilson’s tonight, it’s their turn in the rotating childcare-for-date-night agreement that Hen seemed to have been eagerly waiting to sign them up for. It had been the third thing she said when they got together, right after congratulations and I’m so happy for you. Anyway, they’re going to go sit down at the Thai food place they usually only have the time and energy to order from home. It’ll be nice. Three months in and Buck still gets all giddy when Eddie holds his hand out in public. Or anywhere, really. He could slide their fingers together at the bottom of this stupid pit and Buck would feel all fluttery and starry eyed.

—

Buck and Eddie are both hurt on the job and a choice has to be made. Written for the Bad Things Happen Bingo square “Take Me Instead”

won’t you close your weary eyes 3,714 words, rated T, Buck and Bobby hurt comfort, parental feelings

Bobby doesn’t actually hear the warning shout. Or- it’s possible that he did, in the moment, but he has no memory of the sound. Just Buck, 20 or so feet away, turning towards him mid conversation with a look of horror on his face, mouth open around an unheard word, arm moving slow motion up in what he's sure is a frantic wave. He does hear the sound of impact, an almost comical series of hollow metallic bonks. They'll all laugh about this later, he thinks on the way down. Bunch of pipes dropping on the fire Captain's head. Pretty sure he saw that on looney toons.

—

Bobby gets a concussion and Buck stays with him. Written for the bad things happen bingo prompt: concussion.

March

the going water and the gone 31,547 words, rated T, cruise ship spec, Eddie missing presumed dead, angst with a happy ending

It doesn’t take long for Buck to be cleared to leave. He’s given antibiotics for the water he swallowed, a handful of bandages to cover shallow wounds, and instructions to take it easy. Horror clenches in his stomach. Eddie is gone and he gets off with Advil and a nap.

—

Eddie is missing presumed dead after the cruise ship sinks, Buck tries to keep his promises

I’d shine up the old brown shoes, I’d put on a brand-new shirt 3,565 words, rated T, friends with benefits buck/natalia, Eddie and Buck feelings realization through giving Chris dating advice

“No, I need, like-“ Eddie sighs so hard it almost sounds like static. “I need… guy help. Will you just come over?”

“Are you-” Buck turns away from Natalia and kind of hunches over the phone, making his voice quieter. “Are you having a penis problem?”

“What?” Buck’s never heard Eddie that high pitched. Loud, too, enough that Buck yanks the phone away from his ear and Natalia snorts with barely contained laughter behind him. When he brings the phone back in, Eddie is making a lot of blustery sounds, which Buck waits out until he finds words again. “Wh- No! No, I don’t have- I’m not having a ‘penis problem,’ Buck!”

Buck shrugs at the air in front of him. “Okay, Eddie, you’re the one who’s hiding in a bathroom and said you needed my ‘guy help,’ what was th-”

“Oh my god, Buck, I need relationship advice, okay!”

—

Chris is going on his first date. Eddie calls Buck for backup.

what useless tools ourselves 4,905 words, rated G, Buck in the hours after Eddie’s s5 breakdown

After Eddie chokes out what he can of a tragedy nearly a decade in the making, and after they go together to make sure Christopher is okay — the kid's eyes are wide where they meet Buck's over his father's shoulder, Eddie still trembling as he holds him — they sit back down at the kitchen table and Buck cleans Eddie's knuckles.

—

Buck, between the breakdown and dawn. Written for the BTHB prompt bloody knuckles.

April

when we’re barely awake in the heat of the day’s weight 1,037 words, rated M, buck/tommy early relationship tenderness

“You okay?” The man asks, voice rough with sleep though not too loud even with his mouth maybe three inches from Buck’s ear. He’s so soft. All his hard edges and he’s just so soft.

“Yeah,” Buck half-whispers, relaxing into him. “Sorry. It’s just, uh- been awhile since I woke up someplace new.” He hadn’t been paying much attention to ceiling texture when they’d stumbled to bed last night, either. It matches what little glimpses he had been paying attention to in Tommy’s charmingly vintage apartment. Brick exterior. Funny orange tiles in the kitchen. “Think it might have been since, uh…” Shit. He’d been to Natalia’s once for just a few minutes because she had an ornery roommate, and Taylor always came to his. Ali found him the loft specifically to have a nice place to wake up in after fucking. “Uh, Abby, maybe.”

—

Buck wakes up at Tommy’s place and they have a conversation about taking up space

you’ve got too much to wear on your sleeve 4,136 words, rated G, buck/tommy hurt comfort

“Uh, sorry.” He stares down at Eddie’s shoes. “I just think I’m- I’m kind of scared.” He eventually understood, intellectually, why Ali left him. It was a lot. She didn’t really get the scope of what she was signing up for. His leg had turned something fun and casual into something suddenly dead fucking serious. So, yeah, he understood, but he’s not sure until this moment that he really, actually understood. Tommy’s down that hall somewhere, and he got hurt at his job which is dangerous, and Buck is wondering how awful it would be to flee back through all the hallways and out of Pasadena to parts of the city he knows better, and go and find a nice safe girl with a nice safe job so his chest won’t ever feel like this. Or, only feel like this sometimes, with Eddie or Hen and Chimney and Bobby, or Maddie, people who he’s already seen bleed so he knows they can do it.

—

Tommy’s helicopter goes down. Buck fixes the station AC unit.

If you go down to Hammond you’ll never come back 1,339 words, rated G, early relationship buck/tommy fluff, madney wedding spec but more like madney wedding au really, prophetic daddy joke

“Oh, uh.” Eddie shrugs, stretches. “You know. Buck. It’s kind of… who he’s become, who he’s proud of being. I guess, I mean- we haven’t talked about it specifically. But yeah, I think… it’s like the turnouts, you put them on, feel good about who you are in them. And it’s the name he’s used ever since he came here, it’s- neat. Like, a clean break from when he… was young, and alone.” He shrugs again, smiles a little. “His friends call him Buck.”

Tommy’s thumb slips in the condensation on his glass. “Should I-”

“No.” Eddie’s voice is very soft. “I think… for most of his life only Maddie ever said ‘Evan’ and meant ‘I’m happy to see you.’ I think… it’s good, that he has that with you.”

Tommy just- tries to remember how to breathe normally for a second. “I am,” he says. “Happy to see him.” A funny, shaky little joy in his stomach every single time he looks up and sees Evan Buckley.

—

Eddie and Tommy talk at the wedding

May

that makes calamity of so long life 1901 words, rated T, buck/tommy fluff and angst, tragic backstories

The afternoon sun sneaking through the curtain lights him right up, glowing in his curls and against his cheek like the air itself can’t help but touch him. It makes Tommy feel kind of out of breath, kind of out of his depth. “Sometimes I think I must have made you up," he says, because the walls aren't melting but this still feels like a dream.

“I was.” Buck says it softly, and then blinks, like the words were out of his mouth before his brain could catch them. “Made up,” he says, a clarification that doesn’t make anything clearer.

—

Tommy learns about Daniel, and thinks about life and safety and caring about things

Autolysis 5,607 words, rated T, Bobby Nash goes in the blender, parental feelings, guilt grief and depression, food as a metaphor for love and what happens when you dont have enough of either

Buck dies, and he’s cold right away. They all are, this isn’t the kind of summer storm where the rain is almost warm. It’s freezing out here, even under all the layers of their gear. Bobby’s sure his own skin is corpse-cool, but he holds Buck and the harness pulls him stiff in his arms, and his body is cold, and he thinks Wait. It’s happening too fast. Wait. He’s dead, and Bobby lays him carefully on the gurney, and he rides up front with Eddie as they tear through the streets towards the hospital, frantic noise and movement reaching them from the back. He’s dead when they pull up to the doors. The human body begins to decay after four minutes, starts to consume itself, the final hunger. Bobby hears the crack of his sternum when Eddie’s palms press so far into his chest his heart starts to beat again. 43 seconds to spare.

-

Written for the bad things happen bingo prompt: make it look like an accident

June

big heart, I wanna let it bleed 2,106 words, rated G, buck joins the team a little younger au, buck and Bobby feels

Buck looks happy as a dog with a bone, glancing at Bobby with a mile wide grin. It's a familiar kind of look, though it takes until they're almost at the ambulance — Buck chatting away all the while — for him to place it, and it nearly makes him stumble when he does. Robert would give him that look when he made a new friend on the playground and got invited to hang out. Please, Dad, can I go? He's sure Buck didn't mean anything by it. Bobby doesn't have that authority in his life, nicknames and Springsteen concerts nothing that adds up to a tangible connection. And the kid- well, he's not a kid. 25 years old, can arrange his own playdates perfectly well.

July

I know the words, I know the sounds 2,147 words, rated G, buck/tommy breakup because one of them realizes their best friend they’ve been in love with forever is suddenly an option, oops wrong best friend

“I’ll step on your toes,” Buck warns, turning fully towards him and vaguely holding up his hands for Eddie to do whatever it is that needs to happen to make the dancing start.

Eddie snorts, moves one of Buck’s hands to his shoulder and holds the other, and taps his shiny dress shoe very gently into Buck’s big toe. “Do your worst.”

—

Buck and Eddie dance at Tommy’s wedding

and the air was full 397 words, rated G, storm chasers au

There’s a crack in the sky, lightning glowing white hot across his field of vision, and it’s behind Buck but somehow his eyes are lit up with it. The thunder comes less than a second later.

buff in, fan dry, wash out 1,758 words, rated G, art student au, Buck and Shannon are friends and that makes his crush on her recently divorced husband kind of awkward

The old drawing — something abstract, all bold sweeping lines — slowly disappears as it wears away and gets covered by sludge. He always feels a little guilty, getting rid of somebody’s work like this. A little inadequate, trying to come up with something good enough to replace it.

—

Eddie stops by the printmaking studio as Buck and Shannon work

August

get out of the waves get out of the water 1,856 words, rated T, Eddie pov of going water and the gone

Eddie’s foot slides out from under him and his first thought is Oh shit, sorry. He’ll find that funny, eventually.

—

Lost at sea, Eddie dreams

Autobiography 13,152 words, rated M, Buck’s turn in the blender, unreliable narrator but its hardly his fault no one tells him anything about his own life, depression and suicidal tendencies, past assault, pet death that may or may not have happened, 😬, also a twine game

A dog runs into the street after a ball and gets hit by a car.

September

every moment points towards the aftermath 1,755 words, rated G, friends at the table crossover/au but you dont need to know the podcast to read but also you should listen to the podcast, they’re wrestlers, they live in New Jersey but it’s Weird

For awhile, in the beginning, every time Eddie meets Buck the other man has blood in his teeth.

October

should we talk about the weather 20,059 words, rated M, au where some people are drift compatible but without the giant robots, madney fluff and buddie angst and hen + chim bestieism

And then, in Los Angeles, 2018, Eddie had met Buck. Then, huddled over a man with a bomb in his leg, Eddie had needed gauze and Buck’s hand had moved. Then, in the parking lot bathed in the light of an ambulance on fire, Buck had inhaled and Eddie's lungs expanded. And, well, that was that.

cut through the knot 9,924 words, rated M, oh boy Bobby is in the blender again, the whole thing is a therapy session with Frank, long list of content warnings on this one I’ll just leave them on ao3, did you know i love that guy. i love that old man. sorry Bobby that i keep doing this to you

“I’ve been doing fine lately.”

“I’m glad. That’s not what I asked.”

Bobby frowns at Frank, who’s sitting as relaxed and neutral as he always is. “You’re a therapist. Don’t you need to know my… current mental state, something like that?”

“Sure,” Frank smiles just the tiniest bit. Bobby doesn’t know if that means he’s succeeded or failed at something. “But I asked: why are you here?”

—

Bobby goes to therapy. Written for the bad things happen bingo prompt: self harm

right here with you 1,112 words, rated G, the 118 basically in a cuddle pile as penance for what I put Bobby through in the last one

Bobby’s not convinced it wasn’t a stumble — he’s pretty sure he saw a kind of panicked look on Chimney’s face between the whirling limbs — but Buck lands on the couch somehow. There’s a lot of cushion space unoccupied, but he ends up half on top of Bobby, sort of sideways, sort of leaning against Bobby’s chest. He twists his head this way and that until he finds an angle that’s not too sore to look up at him. His grin is big and goofy, eyes a little vacant in the way that comes with strong painkillers, and Bobby laughs down at him.

—

The 118 recuperate after a rough day. Written for the bad things happen bingo prompt: cry into chest

November

3 new short fics in the all my life, there you go series

Family 1,211 words, 118 family feels, new buddie, Eddie and Maddie friendship

Phone calls 1,938 words, Eddie calls Buck drunk from wine night and confesses his love

Hand kisses 1,022 words, angst, Eddie’s moved to Texas and is centimeters from a big gay realization but is already trying to marry Buck anyway

Phew!!! We got through it! Hello down here! @colonoscopys @wildehacked @shitouttabuck @bigfootsmom @devirnis @chronicowboy @gayeddieagenda @homerforsure @ anyone who’s tagged me or I’ve tagged and who’s urls I’m forgetting, anyone who sees this and wants to brag, you dear reader, please share your stuff if you wanna!

[odyssean-flower]

The Winding Path of Fate Chapter 16 - Summer: A Homecoming

Masterpost

Pairing: Neuvillette x Female Reader Summary: You go home to attend your sister's birthday party.

Note: If you want to be on the taglist for this fic, please make a reply to this post, send a message or send a private ask

Have a pic of Neuvillette standing in wherever this is

Previous | Next

“The guesthouse has already been prepared for you, Monsieur Neuvillette. I hope it is to your standards. If you find anything lacking, please inform me or Mrs. Bernard immediately.”

“Thank you, madame, but considering the warm hospitality and consideration I have received from you and your family since I arrived here, I doubt that will be needed,” Neuvillette assured your mother, who seemed to blush at his words. 

“Oh...oh my, such kind words,” your mother stammered out, ignoring your pleading look. “W-well then, I shall take my leave now. Breakfast shall be served to you first thing in the morning. I wish you a very good night.”

With that, your mother left the room, closing the door behind her, which, in turn, locked you in with Neuvillette.

The two of you looked at each other in silence for a moment, neither of you knowing what to say in this unthinkable situation you somehow found yourself in.

“It appears that we are to share a bed for the night, Madame. I hope that doesn’t cause you any discomfort,” he said at last, though the furrow in his brow indicated that the question should have been asked to him instead.

“Yes. It appears so,” you nodded, trying to quell your flipping stomach. “It’s only for a night, though, so I, um, hope you can put up with me until then.”

“No, Madame, I should be the one requesting that of you,” he insisted. “I should apologize for the uncomfortable position I have put you in.”

You decided not to say anything more, lest you fall into a never-ending loop of apologies...again.

Neither of you moved from your spots. His gaze was uncharacteristically unfocused, looking at anywhere but you. Though you didn’t have the ability to read emotions like him, you knew exactly what he was thinking then. It was as though you were looking into a mirror.

How did things turn out this way?

Let us return to the beginning of the day...

While you didn’t expect fanfare or anything when you returned home, you didn’t expect the house to be completely empty.

Your father being away wasn’t a surprise. His favorite pastime was wandering the countryside and climbing the jagged mountains near the village with a zither or notebook under his arm. You just hoped he didn’t stumble into a hilichurl camp or something like last time. 

As for your mother and your sister Justine’s absence, it was soon explained with a letter given to you by your taciturn housekeeper, Mrs. Bernard.

Dear Sister,

I’m so sorry that I couldn’t welcome you back home! Dominic (do you remember him? He’s the viscount’s son I danced with) has invited me to a tour around Fontaine on those new flying machines for my birthday! He says he knows someone at the Institute and that they can lend it to him for the day. Mother is chaperoning us. 

Oh, by the way, I’ve decided not to have the usual garden party this year. We’re going to hold an evening ball at the assembly-hall! Since you so insist on us not celebrating or even mentioning your marriage in any way, this ball will serve as a stealth celebration for you as well (don’t worry, we didn’t tell anyone. But just to warn you, Mother isn’t happy about it). I know how you feel about balls, but I do hope you can enjoy yourself as well. It’s a shame that Monsieur Neuvillette can’t come, but I suppose it can’t be helped. Everyone in the village is invited, and they’re all really excited. It’s been so long since we’ve had a large party like this, after all. Dominic says that he’ll invite some of his friends too. Anne, unfortunately, can’t attend as she’s busy with her babies.

I’ll be back around late afternoon, and I expect to hear all about Monsieur Neuvillette from you (I still can’t believe he’s part of our family now!!!!)

Love, Justine

“A flying tour...and a ball?” you said incredulously as you finished reading the letter. “I don’t think I had that much energy when I was her age.”

Still, you were happy that she was having a grand birthday celebration. Even if you had mixed feelings about a ball. Well, I suppose it’s fine if it’s just a village ball, you told yourself. If worst comes to worst, I can volunteer to play the role of musician all night. 

Indeed, you shouldn’t let your personal feelings cloud such a happy event. Even you enjoyed listening to the music, watching others dance, and eating the refreshments. Though, it was a shame that Anne, your best friend, couldn’t be there, as you hadn’t seen each other in ages. 

Neuvillette’s dodged a bullet by having to be in court today, you wryly mused to yourself. He frequently received invitations to balls and dinners, but almost always declined them. 

“The guest list is here, Madame Neuvillette,” Mrs. Bernard said, handing you a list of names. As your sister had written, all the families in the village were invited, and almost all of them accepted. The unfamiliar names, you assumed, were Dominic’s friends. 

“That’s a lot of guests. Did Mother hire any help for you?” you inquired as you followed Mrs. Bernard into the kitchen. Your family only had one housekeeper, but sometimes temporary help was hired from the village when it was needed. “Oh, and you don’t have to call me Madame Neuvillette, you know.”

“I am merely calling you by your proper title, Madame,” Mrs. Bernard said, unsmiling. You could count the number of times you saw her show emotion on one hand. “And no, several of your mother’s friends have offered to help prepare the refreshments. I am only baking the birthday cake and Conch Madeleines.”

“How far have you gotten with the cake?” you asked, rolling your sleeves up and putting on an apron. You usually helped with the measurements and the mixing, as Mrs. Bernard’s eyesight had worsened slightly over the years. 

The housekeeper stopped and gave you a look. “What?” you frowned.

“The wife of the Chief Justice has no place in a kitchen, especially after a long trip. I would advise you to rest in your room until the night’s entertainments.”

“Oh, come on, Mrs. Bernard, I’m not too good for kitchen work now just because I’m married to someone important. And you know how things are with our family. We need all the help we can get.” 

It wasn’t uncommon for members of the rural nobility to do work that their urban compatriots wouldn’t even deign to do, particularly if they lived on a meager income like yours did. You had grown up accustomed to mending your own clothes and helping with meal preparation.

“It is because I know our circumstances that I cannot approve of you helping me,” Mrs. Bernard replied curtly. Suddenly, her expression turned stormy. “Are you running into any issues with the staff at Monsieur Neuvillette’s household?”

“No, no, not at all,” you said, waving your hands in denial. Mrs. Bernard had been working for your family since your grandfather’s time, when there was still wealth and a fully staffed household, so she remembered a time when young ladies of the family didn’t need to lift a finger for anything except to ring the bell to summon a servant. “I’ve never run into any trouble there. Everything’s being done for me.”

It was the truth. In the beginning, you had tried to help out with the cooking and cleaning, but was firmly turned down every time. “You are here as Monsieur Neuvillette’s wife, not a tenant,” Marie had said. “He would be greatly aggrieved to hear that you feel obliged to do chores in his household.” Personally, you didn’t really understand the problem. You weren’t actually his wife and it wasn’t an obligation to help out in the house that you lived in. To go even further, you thought he ought to hire more staff if he were to live in a house of that size, even if he didn’t dwell there all that often. 

Come to think of it, there wasn’t much difference between the two households, particularly in the number of staff. But you decided that it was wiser to keep that to yourself.

“I’m glad to hear that. You must remember that you are of an old, noble bloodline and entitled to all the dignity and respect that entails,” Mrs. Bernard said, fixing you with a steely look. “Do not shrink yourself, even if your husband is the Iudex.”

“I know, I know,” you said, biting back your comments about all the good that a noble bloodline had done you. You knew Mrs. Bernard meant well, though a part of you shuddered at how she would react if she knew the truth behind your marriage. “I’ll be in my room, then.”

Mrs. Bernard nodded and turned back to the kitchen counter, which was fully taken up by mixing bowls and baking ingredients. You studied her stooped back and gray hair tied neatly in a bun. Had she gained more white hair since the last time you saw her?

You went upstairs with those uneasy thoughts in your mind. Mrs. Bernard had stayed loyal to your family even as family heirlooms and parts of the estate were sold to pay off debts, and servants quit in succession. In a wealthier family, she would probably be retired by now and settled comfortably in a cottage, receiving an annual income. 

If I were to truly comport myself with the dignity of a noble, then I would be giving money to my family to hire more servants, you thought as you gazed at a faded patch of wallpaper. An oil painting had once hung there, though you had no idea what the subject was or where it was now. The wall there had been bare ever since you could remember. At least one or two people to help in the kitchen and with the laundry, particularly now that Justine is out in society. Ah, come to think of it, she also needs a lady’s maid. And a footman... And... 

You did have money from Neuvillette, but it wasn’t enough to pay the yearly wages of a few servants.  You would have to ask Neuvillette for more. 

Wasn’t this the point of marrying rich? To help one’s family? If only this were a normal marriage, if only you weren’t married to the one person in Fontaine who you didn’t want to ask anything more of...

You shook your head, clearing the thoughts away like cobwebs. You had gotten into this marriage of your own accord and knew exactly what it was. It was pointless to have regrets about it now. 

Pushing open your bedroom door with more force than you intended, you breathed in the sweet-smelling air of your room. It was kept dusted and polished even after you moved out. Even the plants on your windowsill were watered. Seeing your familiar wooden writing desk and floral bedspread filled your heart with overpowering gladness, as though you were a weary traveler who had finally come home. 

Your bedroom was about half the size of Neuvillette’s guest room and didn’t have a window seat or its own bathroom, but it had always served as your sanctuary. If a room could be the embodiment of one’s soul, then this one would be yours. 

You went over to the window. The morning glory vines hanging from the eaves hadn’t been trimmed, so the visibility wasn’t good, but you always liked the way the vines framed the window. When you were younger, you pretended that it was the overgrown window in a crumbling castle. The house was practically covered in ivy and morning glory vines. It lent a wild and rustic appearance that you found charming, but your mother always complained about the “overgrown weeds.” 

I think Neuvillette’s house would also look lovely with a bit of greenery on the outside. Not excessively, of course, But a window box of flowers never hurt anyone, or perhaps a wisteria tree near the front door...

You turned to the tall bookcase that housed your carefully cultivated collection of books. Living in a small town far from the city meant that your means of buying new books was limited, but you made do. Your eyes drifted to the leather-bound spines occupying the middle shelf. Those were the albums and journals of your late teacher which she had bequeathed to you. She had more books, but they were donated to the school and local library. While you had brought your favorites with you to the city, you didn’t bring any of these with you out of fear of losing them. And because it still hurt too much to look at them.

But now... You ran a finger across their smooth, cracked spines. You hadn’t visited your teacher’s grave in a long time. You should find time to do it today. There are a lot of things I want to tell her about. 

Before that, you decided to take a little nap. The trip here had been rather taxing. You changed into a shift and closed the curtains on the blue sky beyond. It won’t be blue for long though. I hope it doesn’t rain during Justine’s tour.

The thought of rain reminded you of Neuvillette. He was probably still in the middle of a trial, as it hadn’t rained yet. You felt a little guilty, knowing that you promised to attend one of his trials. I’ll go to the next one for sure, you told yourself. I hope he doesn’t stand in the rain for too long. You had grown accustomed to the sight of him standing in the garden as rain fell upon him and readied towels for him whenever he came back indoors. He never talked about it, but you gathered that standing in the rain was soothing for him somehow. 

You climbed into bed and slipped under the covers, then stared up at the ceiling. Sleep wasn’t coming easily. 

Birdsong sounded outside the window. Faint shadows played on the wall opposite your bed. You could hear Mrs. Bernard moving around in the kitchen downstairs. Everything was so familiar and unchanged that you could almost fool yourself into believing that you had never left your village at all. The woman who had married the Iudex, petted a vishap’s snout, got attacked by a drunk at night (O Archons, how were you going to bring that up to your parents?), and spoke to the Hydro Archon, seemed to be someone else entirely. 

I feel like everything that happened in the past few months was a dream, and now I’m back to reality...

You could even sense the difference between your two lives in the bedding. The sheets in my room in the city are silkier and smell like detergent, while these sheets are more worn and stiffer, and smell like wildflowers...

You blinked at the intrusive thought. It would not do to compare. Or to grow accustomed to this, because it would all be over in the blink of an eye. The life that awaited you would be difficult, so it was better to prepare for it beforehand.

You tried to think about things that were more relevant to your future, like how you would advertise yourself or do some networking (perhaps you could ask Neuvillette to do some inquiring for you), but for some reason, your thoughts kept straying to other things. Like saving two slices of cake for Neuvillette and Marie. Marie would love the cake, and even though Neuvillette rarely ate sweets, you were sure he would enjoy it as well. It should be moist enough for him. The only question was, how were you going to keep the cakes fresh on the way home tomorrow? That reminds me, didn’t Neuvillette promise to take me to a restaurant? I hope he hasn’t forgotten about it. Well, he’s so busy these days that I wouldn’t be surprised if he had. Still, I was really looking forward to it...

A little voice in your head asked you if you were perhaps thinking about Neuvillette a little too much, but it was soon pulled under by a wave of drowsiness. 

“I hope you’re not going to hide away in the corner with the piano all night.”

You glanced up from the sheet music for a high-spirited country dance as Justine strode into the parlor. Her hair was up in curlers, and she was wearing her bathrobe and a facial mask. 

“Who else is going to play the music for all the dancing you and your friends are going to do? There’s no one as skilled on the piano as me in town, and no one else willing to take on the role of the musician all night.” 

You weren’t bragging. You had plenty of practice playing reels and jigs for Justine and her friends, who lived for dancing. Though, you had been a little rusty as of late, which was why you were warming up right now.

“Mr. Guillaume will be playing the violin, and Mrs. Allen has agreed to lend her harp. And Mother can take your place on the piano. You have to take a break at some point,” Justine leaned against the piano. “Just do one or two dances, please?”

“Oh, all right.” You supposed you could dance a cotillion or a longways set.

“You can practice with me, if you want. ...I doubt Monsieur Neuvillette danced much with you.”

“How do you know that?”

“It would have made the headlines of all the newspapers if he attended a ball with an unknown woman on his arm,” Justine said, as if it was obvious. Then, her face brightened. “Unless those secret evening balls the tabloids talk about are true...?”

“I wouldn’t know about that.” Though the thought of Neuvillette sneaking off at night to go dancing was rather amusing.

“Why wouldn’t you know? You’re his wife!”

“Well...just because two people are married, it doesn’t mean they have to know everything about each other,” you said. It occurred to you then that this was the perfect opportunity to “foreshadow” your eventual divorce. “To be honest, we don’t see each other all that often. His job keeps him very busy, you know, and he comes home very late. We live separate lives, and neither of us has much interest in each other. It’s not exactly the fairytale marriage you’re hoping for, I’m afraid.”

“Oh, I know that,” Justine waved her hand. “There’s some kind of circumstance behind it, right?” Your expression must have been comical because she let out a snort of laughter. “Come on, my serious and level-headed sister suddenly getting married to the Iudex in a secret wedding within a week? You have to be an idiot not to see something’s up. I think Mother suspects it as well, but she’s choosing to ignore it.”

“I see...” Now you felt foolish. “Um...you must want to know--”

“I won’t pry. As long as he’s good to you and supports you in every way, then it doesn’t matter,” Justine peered at you closely. You were surprised. She had always been a romantic and, like your mother, devoured romance novels. “He is good to you, right? He’s not cold or neglectful? Everyone says he doesn’t like humans and is only kind to the Melusines. If he's cruel to you, then--”

“No!” you said, a little too quickly. Justine raised her eyebrow. You cleared your throat. “I mean, he’s been nothing but gentlemanly and considerate. He’s very kind and gentle--nothing at all like how he presents in court. I don’t think he hates humans at all. It’s just that he...keeps a distance from most people due to the nature of his work.”

You thought back to all the conversations you had with Neuvillette, and what you had observed of him. He simply didn’t give off the air of someone who hated humans. Would someone like that sit in the seat of the Chief Justice for centuries? 

But you couldn’t say he wholeheartedly loved them either. There was a deliberate distance there, but the reason for it was unknown to you.

“Mm-hmm,” Justine made a sound. She was grinning. You then realized that you had fallen into deep thought. “So, tell me more about my brother-in-law.”

“B-Brother-in-law?” you spluttered.

“Isn’t that what he is?”

“Well...yes, but...” It had only occurred to you then that Neuvillette was technically related to your family now. You had never gave it much thought before, so focused on other aspects of the marriage. You cleared your throat again. “What do you want to know? Just so you know, I don’t know his true identity or anything.”

“I don’t care about that! I want to know what living with him is like. He’s so mysterious, after all! Ooh, I don’t know how you can bear seeing that handsome face every single day!” Now she was sounding more like her old self.

You had a feeling that she would keep pestering you if you didn’t throw her a bone. What’s the harm in telling her a few things, you thought. Plus, you did kind of wanted to talk to someone about him. 

“You get used to it after a few months,” you started, and Justine leaned forward in rapt attention.

“So...he’s an old man, basically?” Justine said after you finished talking. You were currently in the kitchen, watching Mrs. Bernard icing the cake. The three-tiered butterscotch cake was decorated with pink and blue roses (“Didn’t I tell you? It’s to celebrate your wedding!” Justine answered when you asked about the blue roses) and looked every bit as delicious as something you’d see in the window displays of the fancy cake shops in the Court. 

“What...? How did you get to that conclusion?” you whirled around to her. Mrs. Bernard let out a quiet snort.

“According to you, he enjoys long, solitary walks by the water, has a preference for moist foods, and loves talking to his daughters and asking about their day. That sounds just like Old Man Julien,” Justine replied matter-of-factly. Old Man Julien was an elderly neighbor of yours who had no teeth. And he did enjoy long walks and chewable foods. 

“...No, it doesn’t,” you said, even as you inwardly thought that you might have inadvertently ruined Neuvillette’s image. Although, he is old...and a man...so she’s technically correct...wait, why am I thinking about this!? “So what? Is that a crime? Nothing wrong with having distinctive tastes, is there?”

“Never said there was,” Justine was still grinning. You turned away from her with a huff, and she hopped around to face you. “And Sister, you’re a terrible liar!”

“What do you mean?”

“You are interested in Monsieur Neuvillette! I’ve never seen you talk so much about someone who isn’t some musty old historical figure!” Justine clapped her hands together.

“And smiling at that,” Mrs. Bernard added. You didn’t recall smiling. 

“That’s because he’s an interesting person. Like you said, he’s mysterious. No one knows what he is or where he came from. And he’s hundreds of years old, and...” Realizing that you sounded far too defensive, you clamped your lips shut. 

“Oh, Sister, you should just be honest with yourself,” Justine shook her head.

“I do not know what you are talking about. I did not lie about a single thing. And you should watch how you speak about your brother-in-law.”

“I know, I know... Ooh, I have an idea. Let me do your makeup! And then I’ll take pictures and send them to my brother-in-law, and then he’ll be so awestruck by your beauty that he’ll be eager to take you to balls every night!”

“Please don’t do that. It’s a secret marriage, remember?” you reminded her as she dragged you upstairs.

But she wasn’t listening to you as she chattered to herself. “...And then I’ll tie blue ribbons into your hair, to match those blue things in his hair.”

“Actually, those are horns,” you couldn’t help but correct her.

“They are!? ...I bet he let you touch them, didn’t he?” 

You suppressed a groan. You were beginning to regret telling her anything at all.

I hope Neuvillette’s having a more relaxing time than me, you thought.

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[helluvabinge]

Ok, but let’s talk about the fact that they can’t hear each other, because that means that everything they are saying is either internal monologue or things they wish they could say to each other, but these thoughts are independent from what the other person is saying.

So let’s split them up.

Stolas:

Why am I throwing my freedom away for this idiot? I would rather be dead than live life without you by my side. So if it keeps you alive…I am the mastermind, the master of my fate. Sure as the stars have shined, I’ll give my life to clean your slate. You’re my light. Only death can rend our love apart

Stolas’s motivations are the focus of the song, so there’s not a lot of surprising stuff here, but let’s break it down.

Stolas is definitely acting on a whim here. He only has seconds to come up with a plan based on very limited information about what the court knows (remember, he didn’t see any of the trial, just the announcement of the execution). He makes a decision that may be a bit brash and he definitely hasn’t thought it through, but the song gives him a moment to reflect. What am I doing? I am so frustrated and heartbroken by what this man has done. Why am I throwing my life away for him?

And of course, there’s a very simple reason. Stolas loves Blitz. He loves him so much that he can’t imagine a world where Blitz is completely gone. Despite his recent heartbreak, there’s still hope that they’ll find their way back to each other, however distant that is. Blitz’s death would be the end of that hope, and Stolas would rather give his own life rather than lose that tiny hope.

He reaffirms that he is the master of his fate. He is doing what Blitz has always given him the courage to do. He makes a decision for himself, based on his own wants and his own happiness. He chooses his fate, rather than letting others decide it for him. He can do this one good thing, this one redemptive action for this mess that he has made. He can clean Blitz’s slate and take his place.

Stolas’s fate up to now has been to watch distant lights and divine prophecy from them, but Blitz is his light, warm and present. He’s the only future Stolas wants, the future he gets to chose rather than one that is chosen for him. How could anything but death come between that love?

On the other side…

Blitz:

What have you done? I can’t live life without you by my side. What are you doing? I don’t deserve this! I realized too late. Don’t give your life to clean my slate. You’re my heart. Only death can rend our love apart.

Blitz’s vocals echo Stolas’s, but I think they reveal even more when taken on their own.

Blitz is just starting to realize what Stolas’s plan is. As it dawns on him, he starts to panic. Like Stolas, Blitz knew prior to the trial that their relationship was likely irreparably damaged and that they were definitely not getting back together. But also like Stolas, he had that tiny distant hope that maybe they could find their way back to each other. He doesn’t want to go on without Stolas by his side. He genuinely loves him and the thought of being without him has been heartbreaking. The thought that it could be permanent is unbearable.

And of course, Blitz’s self worth issues rear their ugly head as he begs Stolas to stop. What are you doing? I don’t deserve this! I’m not worth this. I’m a piece of shit. I have hurt so many people, including you. Why would you give your life for me? I did this, and so much worse. Why are you taking my punishment?

(He also says he realized too late, but it’s unclear if he’s referring to his feelings or that he realized Stolas’s plan too late to stop him. I don’t know. Let me know what you guys think.)

He pleads with Stolas, his heart, the person who finally made him want to feel, to be a better person not just for Stolas, but for all the people in his life. Stolas is his heart, and he will love that stuck up horny owl (affectionate) until the day he dies.

I love that they twined these lines together, as it does a great job of showing their relationship dynamic of constantly talking past each other. Even in this moment when they are in perfect sync, they have no idea how much the other’s feelings mirror their own.

Anyway, I love this song and I’m going to go listen to it again.

[xx-dinah-writing-xx]

Pierced Nipples

Tom Taylor x reader

Fluff

Tom knocked lightly on your apartment door, the sound barely audible over the quiet hum of the city outside. He’d texted you earlier to say he was stopping by, but you hadn’t replied, which was unusual for you. Still, he figured you might just be napping or distracted.

When you didn’t answer after a moment, he let himself in, the spare key you’d given him jangling in his hand.

“Babe?” he called out, stepping into your place and kicking off his shoes. The living room was quiet, the faint sound of your cat’s purring the only thing breaking the silence.

He rounded the corner into your bedroom and froze.

You were lying on your back on the bed, your head propped up slightly on a pillow, a pair of ice packs resting strategically on your chest. You were wearing one of your thinner bralettes, and though it was doing its best to keep everything in place, it wasn’t hiding much.

To top it all off, your cat was sprawled across your stomach, fast asleep, completely unfazed by your predicament.

Tom blinked, taking in the scene with a mix of concern and confusion. “Uh… should I even ask what’s going on here?”

Your eyes fluttered open, and you groaned softly, shifting just enough to glance at him. “Hey,” you mumbled, your voice slightly strained. “Didn’t hear you come in.”

“No kidding,” he said, stepping closer and gesturing at you. “What happened? Are you okay? And why—” His words caught in his throat as he realized what was happening. “Wait. Did you…?”

You gave him a sheepish smile, wincing slightly as you adjusted one of the ice packs. “Got my nipples pierced.”

Tom blinked again, his mouth opening and closing like he wasn’t sure how to respond. “You… what?”

“I’ve been wanting to for a while,” you explained, your voice defensive but light. “Figured today was the day.”

His eyes darted from your face to the ice packs on your chest, and then back to your face. “And how’s that working out for you?” he asked, his tone laced with amusement despite his initial shock.

You shot him a deadpan look. “Well, I’ve got ice packs on my boobs, so… you tell me.”

Tom chuckled, sitting down on the edge of the bed beside you. He reached out to scratch behind your cat’s ears, his gaze softening as he looked back at you. “You’re insane, you know that?”

“Maybe,” you said with a small grin. “But they’ll look amazing once they heal.”

His lips twitched into a smirk, and he tilted his head slightly. “Oh, I don’t doubt that.”

You rolled your eyes, but the faint blush creeping up your cheeks didn’t go unnoticed. “Don’t get any ideas, Taylor. It’s going to be a while before you can even think about touching them.”

Tom raised his hands in mock surrender, laughing. “Alright, alright. I’ll behave. For now.”

He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before settling back beside you. “You need anything? Ice refills? Painkillers? A medal for bravery?”

You laughed, relaxing into the pillows as his playful presence eased some of your discomfort. “Just you hanging out here is good enough. Oh, and maybe making sure the cat doesn’t crush me.”

Tom smirked, reaching over to gently move the cat off your stomach. “You got it, babe. Though I’m still processing the fact that you voluntarily inflicted pain on yourself for the sake of shiny nipples.”

“Shiny hot nipples,” you corrected, grinning despite the ache.

Tom chuckled, shaking his head as he stretched out beside you. “Fair enough. But for the record, you’re already perfect, piercings or not.”

You smiled, leaning your head against his shoulder as the two of you fell into an easy, comfortable silence—your cat curling back up near your feet, completely unbothered by the commotion.

[thesaturndiary]

sonic 3 spoilers (i’m rlly just crying over shadow)

shadows story keeps me up at night over how gut wrenchingly depressing it is LET ME PROCESS THIS PLS!!!

for example can you imagine hurtling down to earth so hard you can’t remember anything about your past, your home, your loved ones, anything? as soon as you’re conscious you’re surrounded by some weird alien species (humans) who already have their hands on you.

you’re poked and prodded and put into weird liquid jail cells that preserve your body and these weird creatures force you to do the weirdest tests and tasks.

all of them look at you like you’re dangerous, as if you had 3 heads on your body that can shoot lasers out of their eyes at any given moment.

you’re a prisoner with no free will or any control over your situation.

this is your life.

every single day is exactly the same.

but then one day a tinier human (maria) shows up one day, one who you assume is just like the others, but she doesn’t expect anything out of you.

she doesn’t see you as some all powerful being, or a science experiment, or something that could kill her in an instant if you so choose to do so.

she teaches you how to dance, and shows you music, and movies, and she sneaks you out of testing so you two can goof off, and you two laugh together, and talk about everything, and spend every possible moment with each other, showing nothing less than equal gratitude and love and respect towards one another.

she’s all smiles, and happiness, and the only joy in your life.

and then just like that she fucking dies from the hands of those who’ve kept you captive for god knows how long.

THEN you get thrown into another liquid prison for 50 YEARS. RIGHT AFTER THE ONLY THING YOU CARED ABOUT DIED RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU AND YOURE STUCK RELIVING THAT MOMENT FOR 50. YEARS.

she was the one human being that ever showed shadow even just an ounce of love and kindness and then he’s left to assume that everyone else is horrible and only want something out of him like???? Oh My God???????

“Are people born wicked, or do they have wickedness thrust upon them?” IM IN TEARS!!!!! OMGGG MY SHAYLAAAAAA 😭😭😭😭😭😭

idk if i were someone who had no prior knowledge on sonic the hedgehog lore before walking into that movie i think i genuinely would’ve been more of a wreck than i already was (if that were somehow possible) like genuinely why am i losing my marbles over this now.

[firstyok]

I've been officially diagnosed with the same First Kanaphan Disease. RIP ME

GUESS WHAT?

The Disease is INCURABLE

First Kanaphan disease is REAL and I am SUFFERING from it

[fujii-draws]

OKAY! Chatot rant in tags below! Read at your own discretion.

[dorkorder]

[raionmimi]

I love that the “There’s only one bed” trope for Symweaver would just be a normal day for them that they don’t even think twice about it. They’d sleep in each other’s beds in their dorm as students whenever they felt like it and still do the same on the Arcology. They’re at complete ease in each other’s presence that they never really thought to make it a big deal

The only differences are that Niran cuddles her a lot more because he likes how it’s a different vibe to intentionally snuggle somewhere away from home, and Satya studies his face a lot more because the environment isn’t the same and it’s comforting that he’s a universal constant to her

[hp-lonesome-actual-art]

Another batch or Mr. Puzzles quick sketches. I kept forgetting to draw his side pocket in the last couple ones. Random character featured in the little comic-ish Live Interview is some version of doodlesona. Can’t guarantee the dialogue will be believable/sound in character for Puzzles because honestly I’m still working on understanding his talking style and when he sarcastically jokes around or when he chooses to be serious and drop performance act. But in the off chance you wanna read it goes from left to right with reading