#besides like. people dying things exploding. the usual

[harkness-girl]

power grab gone wrong

Pairing: Agatha x fem!reader

Warnings: double manipulation? idk, kind of bottom!agatha?

Plot: agatha has found another source of power, playing her usual game of cruel words, but your ability makes it easy to play the game, maybe even better than Agatha herself

MEN AND MINORS DNI!

You were driven into the forest with stones and fire. You had not been burned, not yet, but the promise of it lingered in the air since the villagers banished you.

Now you lived in the dead places of the forest, where the sun touched nothing and the roots whispered of old hungers. You survived on stolen bread and berries and moss-water. Your magic was quiet, like the hush before a storm. It was not fire or wind or death, but feeling. You could pull sorrow from a bird’s wing or joy from a dying tree. You could understand others so deeply, it made your chest ache.

It was a curse, and it had saved you.

You were crouched beside a stream one twilight, half-starved, cupping you hands for water, when the forest went silent. The birds fell mute. The wind recoiled. You looked up.

A woman stood across the stream. Draped in robes the color of purple, skin pale, hair like wild and wavy. She didn’t blink.

You knew who she was, you had heard the stories of witches being attacked by one of their own. 

Agatha Harkness stepped from the shadow of the trees like she belonged to them. Her cloak flowed behind her, whispering secrets in a language older than the soil. Her pale hand rested lazily on her hip, her eyes sharp and glinting like the edge of a polished blade.

“Well,” she said, looking you up and down with open disdain. “A little scrap of meat and magic. I smelled you half a mile off. You reek of hunger and hope. Disgusting.”

You didn’t move. You stood by the stream, your bare feet half-submerged in the cold water, your tattered dress clinging to your legs like ivy. You looked at Agatha the way you observe a storm - beautiful, terrible.

“I don’t want trouble,” you murmured.

Agatha’s lip curled. “You’re in a forest older than death, little bird. Trouble is the only thing that lives here.”

She took a step closer, the ground beneath her feet darkening with each stride.

“What’s your trick, then?” she cooed mockingly. “Do you make flowers bloom from your palms? Heal injured rabbits and weep when people cry?” She leaned in. “Or maybe it’s something nasty, something hidden… are you going to explode my heart with a thought? Melt my bones with a scream?”

You said nothing. Your eyes flicked to Agatha’s fingers, where old magic hummed. Old powerful magic. 

“Come on,” Agatha drawled. “Hit me. Hex me. Try. You want to, don’t you?”

Your breath caught. The witch was obviously crazy, but she was so mesmerisingly beautiful that you started wondering whether the dead witches had simply given up their powers upon meeting this woman. 

Agatha grinned. “Don’t pretend you're a saint. You’ve got it in you. All that bitterness, all that grief. Use it. Cast your first spell with teeth.”

Still, you didn’t move. Her soul was pouring into your veins without you having to do anything. Empathy was your greatest power and your greatest curse. 

Agatha’s tone turned sweet, mocking. “What’s wrong? Afraid you’ll miss? Or worse, afraid I’ll laugh while I burn?”

She circled you now, slowly, dragging her nails along the air as if shaping invisible wire.

“I know what you are,” she whispered into your ear. “A soft little doe who thinks kindness will save her. You think the world will change if you cry hard enough. You think if you love someone enough, they won’t put a knife in your back. Pathetic.”

Your eyes shimmered, but not with fear.

Agatha stepped in front of you, lowering her face until you were inches apart.

“I bet you’ve never even hurt anyone,” she sneered. “Not once. Not properly. You’ve never screamed so loud your throat bled. Never snapped a bone just to feel something break. You don’t know power.”

She raised a hand, and purple fire licked her fingertips.

“I could unmake you right here,” she said with a smile. “Wipe you out like a candle. But I’d rather earn it. I want to feel your resistance. I want to taste your strength when it bleeds out of your mouth.” She leaned close, breath cold as fog. “Make me work for it. Come on. Give me an excuse.”

Silence fell again.

Then you smiled, just a little. While Agatha was talking, your power made it easy to read her like a book. 

“You’re trying so hard,” you said softly. “Is it always like this? Do you always have to beg people to fight you, just to feel something real?”

Agatha blinked. “What did you say?”

You tilted your head, your voice calm, kind, devastating. “You think if you hurt me enough, I’ll just attack you so you can steal my power? Trust me, you don’t want my power.” 

Agatha recoiled a step, confusion and intrigue flickering through her expression.

“I’m not afraid of you,” you said. “I pity you.”

A flicker of raw emotion cracked across Agatha’s face, gone as quickly as it came. But you saw it. Felt it.

Agatha snarled. “Don’t pity me. Don’t you dare—”

“You’re tired,” you said gently. “And lonely. You push people until they turn to ash in your hands because you’re too scared to see who would stay. And it’s so much easier to kill someone who wants to kill you back.” 

Agatha’s magic faltered, just a fraction. Her jaw tightened.

“But deep down you just want someone to surprise you. To not lash out at your cruel words. To not attack you.” 

Agatha raised her hand again, fire boiling in her palm, but her wrist trembled. “Stop it,” she hissed. “Whatever curse you’re casting—stop it!”

“I’m not casting anything,” you said, stepping closer. “I’m just seeing you. That is my power.”

Agatha stared at you. Her chest rose and fell in shallow, uneven breaths. No one had looked at her like that in a hundred years.

And that, more than any magic, was what broke her.

“You don’t see anything,” Agatha growled. 

You smiled softly and lifted up your hand to trace the hem of Agatha’s bodice, where satin met skin. Agatha’s breath hitched and you could feel the touch starvation pouring from her into you in deep waves. 

“You could have me, we could be a team,” you whispered. Your fingers trailed up to her neck and you pressed your thumb against her pulse. You leaned closer to Agatha’s ear and murmured softly, “I know everyone’s weaknesses.”

Agatha made a noise at the back of her throat and immediately pushed you away. “You think I want a child clinging to my skirts? Don’t flatter yourself.”

You closed the distance again, grabbing Agatha’s hips and making her step back until she was pressed up against a nearby tree. You could feel her resolve cracking, you could feel her hunger, her loneliness, her pride. 

“I’ll be good,” you said earnestly. “You can teach me. I’ll learn anything you want.”

“You don’t know what you’re offering.”

“I do.”

Agatha sneered. “Are you trying to seduce me, little worm? You think I’ll melt because you beg prettily?”

You didn’t flinch and you smirked at her. I don’t think. I know you will. Agatha underestimated you, maybe empathy was a cruel ability to have, but it made it easier for you to manipulate. To get what you want. 

And right now, you wanted safety. Even if it meant finding it with a witch killer. 

You grabbed Agatha’s hair and pushed it over her shoulders. Agatha was watching you with caution, but also with interest, as if she wanted to see how the whole game would play out. Your lips softly attached to the soft skin of her throat. 

“You’re already melting.” You tilted your head back to look into Agatha’s eyes, your finger tracing the lines of her face. When your finger reach Agatha’s lips, your own hunger deepened when she slightly parted them. “Poor thing”, you cooed. “How long has it been since someone touched you without fear?” How long had it been since someone touched you?

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, I could-“ Agatha’s words died in her throat when you suddenly leaned down and licked a long striped across her neck, humming as if tasting something delicious. Her magic was playing on your tongue. Agatha shivered. 

“You’re shaking,” you said softly. “You wanted me to be afraid. But you’re the one trembling.”

Agatha’s jaw tensed. “Don’t.”

But you continued because you knew you already had her. Agatha might be a dangerous woman, but with your gift, with your clever words, she’d want you by her side, offering you safety you so deeply longer for. “You came out here to hunt me. You thought I’d throw sparks and scream. That I’d make it easy. But I didn’t. And now you don’t know what to do with me.”

Agatha snarled, but there was no fire in it now. “I could still take everything you are.”

You smiled. Not cruelly. Not innocently. It was the smile of someone who knew. “I’m offering it freely,” you whispered.

Agatha blinked. “What?”

You pressed herself more against her. Your voice dropped, soft and intimate. “You don’t have to break me. You don’t have to hurt me. I’ll give you all of me if you just ask. I’ll follow you, serve you. I’ll belong to you.”

Agatha’s breath caught in her throat. You were weaving something now, not a spell, at least, not in the usual sense. But your words dripped with power. Power drawn from emotion, from truth, from Agatha’s own fraying desires.

“In exchange for…?” 

“Safety,” you mused, dipping your hand into Agatha’s hair, pulling them softly. “Companionship.”

Agatha’s lips parted, but no answer came. One more push and you had her. 

“I could be yours,” you said. “Your shadow. Your student. Your comfort. I could be the one thing that doesn’t run from you.”

You stepped back and lowered yourself on your knees, looking up at her, fluttering your eyelashes prettily, Agatha’s power seeping into you, your power seeping into her. Your voice dropped to a murmur. “I could worship you, Agatha.”

The forest seemed to exhale around you. Agatha let out a shaky breath at the implication and your energy rushing into her veins. Her fingers curled into her dress.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, girl,” she hissed, but her voice had lost its edge.

Your grasped the hem of her skirt and sneaked your hands under, firmly grabbing her calves, her thighs, drawing lines with your fingernails. You smiled lazily. “I’m not playing,” you said, “but if I were… I think I’d be winning.”

Agatha’s eyes closed for a moment and when she opened them again, looking down on you, they were full of hunger that was desperate to get out. “I should tear your mind apart.”

“You could try,” you whispered, softly massaging her thighs now, slowly spreading them and realising with pleasure that Agatha was letting you. “But I think you like this better.”

Agatha didn’t answer with words, but she slowly pushed her feet more apart. 

You smirked and then looked up at her with a question in the tilt of your head. 

And she knew what you were asking, and she nodded. You pressed the heal of your hand against her center and watched her head fall back against the tree. 

You dipped your fingers below the fabric and moaned at how wet she was. “Aren’t you the most powerful witch in all the galaxies?” you whispered while your fingers worked. You pushed two fingers into her and her warmth accepted you as if your fingers belonged inside of her. “Spreading your legs for a nobody in the middle of a forest?” 

Agatha’s hand dropped and she gripped your hair. “Shut your mouth.” 

You chuckled and dipped under her skirt, putting your mouth to a better use. 

[hummingbird24220]

Can I request reader making friendship bracelets for the strawhats but the bracelets are attached to their devil fruit power, I'm thinking it's a variation of 'red string of fate' except that when reader froms a strong bond with someone they become tied together allowing them to gain power through these ties (basically the power of friendship lol) the bracelets themselves aren't a part of the devil fruit just a cute thing reader does to help others visualize what they mean to them (as only reader can actually see the strings of fate)

Anyways the plot would be the strawhats reactions to the friendship bracelets (whether or not they know about the significance of them is up to you) this is mostly platonic strawhats but if you wanted to add romance that's cool too!

You don't have to write for all the strawhats if you don't want to but I definitely wanna see Robin's reaction to a friendship bracelet! (I think she'd really enjoy having a physical object to embody friendship)

(Sorry the ask was so long, love your writing! <3)

Glad you love my writing! Lovely to hear <3

I really liked this prompt - i love the string of fate stuff, makes me feel a bit gooey inside hehe

I could have kept going on this forevvverrrrrrrr i love the concept... spin off mini series anyone?!?!

Hope you enjoy reading!

Ties That Bind (Part 1)

One Piece x Fem!Reader

The kitchen was warm with the scent of Sanji’s post-lunch tea blend, a hint of citrus and mint lingering in the air. Everyone had gathered around the table like they usually did after a big meal, laughter still dying down from Luffy’s latest story about nearly punching a sky island seagull by accident.

You sat near the end of the table, a small box of thread, beads, and charm trinkets sitting beside your teacup. Nami had noticed it earlier and complimented the little braided bracelet you wore on your wrist—blue with a tiny compass bead. You smiled and muttered something vague, but now, with everyone calm and relatively in one place, you figured it was time to explain it properly.

You shifted in your seat, fiddling with a half-finished bracelet in your hands.

"Hey... can I tell you guys something?" you asked, your voice a little hesitant but clear.

Zoro tilted his head lazily, arms crossed. "If it's a confession about secretly being a government spy, say it now."

"I knew something was weird!" Usopp pointed dramatically.

"Shut up, Usopp," said Nami, elbowing him gently. "Go on, [Y/N]."

Luffy leaned forward like a kid about to hear a ghost story, chin propped up on his hands. "Yeah, yeah! Is it about your powers?"

You blinked, surprised. "...You knew?"

"Of course!" he beamed. "You smell like magic. Or maybe cinnamon. I dunno."

You laughed nervously but nodded. "Okay, yeah. So, my Devil Fruit is called the Saiken saiken no Mi—it means something like the Bond-Bond Fruit. It's… hard to explain, but basically, when I form a strong bond with someone, I can see it. Like... a thread tying us together."

Robin perked up with interest, lacing her fingers together. "A thread of fate, perhaps?"

You nodded. "Exactly. Only I can see them. Some are faint, some are bright, but the stronger the connection, the more... real they feel. And through them, I get stronger. I borrow strength from the people I'm tied to."

"So like the power of friendship?" Franky grinned. "That's super classic."

"Basically, yeah." You smiled sheepishly. "But I didn't want to freak anyone out by suddenly saying I see invisible strings attached to you all, so I started making these—" you held up the bracelet in your hand, bright orange with a tiny seashell charm, “—to kinda... represent the bonds I feel. For me, and maybe for you too. Something physical. Something nice."

Chopper gasped, eyes sparkling. "That's so cool! Wait—do I have one?"

You reached into the box and pulled out a little bracelet with white and pink beads, shaped like sakura petals. "Here."

Chopper practically exploded into a blushing mess as he took it, clutching it like it was the most sacred treasure in the Grand Line.

"You've been tying us together this whole time..." Brook said wistfully, his empty eye sockets looking soft. "Even without us knowing."

"You don’t have to wear them," you quickly added. "I just… wanted you all to know what you mean to me."

Nami’s bracelet was gold and teal with a tiny bell. Sanji’s was red and black, with a flame-shaped charm. Usopp’s had earthy tones and a little slingshot bead. Robin’s was elegant, deep violet and lace-like. Franky's had tiny gear charms. Brook’s was ivory and had musical notes.

You hesitated before pulling out the one meant for Zoro—green with a single white bead shaped like a sword—and Luffy’s: red, simple, but with a tiny anchor charm that seemed to glow with joy.

Zoro took his with a grunt of approval and a quiet, "Thanks." You swore his ears turned pink.

Sanji nearly cried over his. "You handmade this for me? Angel."

Robin turned the bracelet in her fingers thoughtfully. "You truly see something special in everyone, don’t you?"

You just smiled. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

"Wait, wait!" Luffy waved his hands. "So if you get stronger from bonds, what happens if you get, like, super close with someone?"

You blinked, surprised by the question—and the slight glimmer of teasing in his grin.

"Well," you said, "the bond gets stronger, and so does the power. I guess, in theory… the closest bond of all would make me unstoppable."

"Like a best friend?" Usopp grinned.

"...Sure," you said, smiling softly.

The mood on the Sunny shifted, but in the best way. A kind of quiet awe had settled over the table as each member of the crew examined their bracelet like it was a rare treasure.

Robin wore hers immediately, slipping it onto her wrist with a graceful flick. “It’s strange,” she murmured. “I’ve spent a long time surrounded by people who only wanted to use me. And now, someone wants to... tie themselves to me.” She looked up and smiled warmly. “It’s rather beautiful.”

Brook held his up to the sunlight. “Yohohoho! If only I had skin to feel this against. Still, I will treasure it forever, just as I treasure our friendship. Though if you ever want to make me a matching anklet—”

“No,” Zoro muttered flatly.

Nami had looped hers around her wrist, then her ankle, then back to her wrist. “It’s fashionable. Very versatile. And handmade, which gives it value.” She glanced at you with an amused smirk. “Also, you’re incredibly sentimental, aren’t you?”

Sanji sighed like he’d just been proposed to. “You tied a thread to my heart, mon ange…”

Usopp had immediately put his on and now kept glancing down at it like it was going to disappear. “So wait, if I make my bond with you stronger, do you get stronger, or do I get stronger too? ‘Cause I’m just saying, team synergy is really underrated in combat situations—”

“HEY!” Luffy suddenly slammed his hands on the table, bracelet proudly on display. “If getting strong means making super strong bonds, then we gotta do that right now. Everyone! Bonding time!”

Chopper gasped. “Really?!”

Franky slammed his drink down. “Super bonding?! Count me in!”

You blinked. “Wait, what—”

“We should do a group activity,” Luffy declared with the confidence of a king. “Something that makes [Y/N] feel extra connected to us. Like… a trust fall. Or a big team nap.”

“That’s not how it works,” you laughed. “You can’t force connection, it just happens over time.”

“Time? We don’t have time! What if we fight someone really strong next week? You gotta be ready!”

Zoro leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “You’re gonna give her emotional whiplash.”

But Luffy was already on his feet. “Let’s all tell [Y/N] a secret! That’ll make us close, right?”

“Captain,” Robin said lightly, “you’re rather enthusiastic about this.”

He beamed at you. “You’re part of my crew now. That means we’re all family. And if your powers run on family juice, then we need to juice it up!”

“…I’m gonna pretend that made sense,” you muttered, but your heart felt like it might burst.

Chopper jumped onto the table. “Okay, okay! I’ll go first! I pretend to be tough sometimes, but sometimes I cry when people call me a monster. But you never did, [Y/N]. That’s why I love you.”

Your eyes welled up immediately. “Chopper…”

“MY TURN,” Sanji shouted. “Sometimes I make extra portions ‘by accident’ just to see if you’ll pick mine over the others.”

“Obviously she does,” Zoro muttered. “Your curry’s hotter than a volcano’s butt.”

“I ENJOY COMPLIMENTS.”

Nami tapped her bracelet thoughtfully. “I hoard money because I’m still afraid. I trust you, though. You never once looked at me like I was a thief. Just… a navigator.”

Usopp cleared his throat. “I, uh… I used to make up stories about people like you. People who cared without needing a reason. Now one of them’s real.”

Your hand trembled as you clutched the box of threads to your chest. “You guys…”

Robin gave you a serene look. “You’re weaving more than bracelets, [Y/N]. You’re weaving a place for yourself. And we’re honored to be caught in your thread.”

Then all heads turned to Luffy.

He was sitting quietly now, looking down at his bracelet. And for once, his usual grin was softer. Quieter.

“My secret is…” he looked up, “...I already feel strongest when I know you guys are with me. That’s why I don’t need a power like yours. I already believe in it.”

You didn’t realize you were crying until Chopper started panicking and tossing tissues at your face.

Luffy stood up, walked over, and plopped his hat on your head.

“So, bonding time worked?” he asked, eyes hopeful.

You sniffled, clutching the rim of his hat. “Yeah. Yeah, it really worked.”

--

The sky had begun to blush with streaks of orange and lavender, soft waves lapping gently at the Sunny's hull. The energy from Luffy’s “crew bonding time” had finally died down, with Franky tinkering below deck, Sanji prepping dinner, and Zoro pretending not to nap on the lawn. A peaceful calm had settled over the ship.

You sat on a lounge chair on the deck, a warm cup of tea cradled in your hands. Steam curled upward, swirling through the threads—those glowing, invisible strings that stretched between you and every corner of the Sunny.

Some shimmered like fresh starlight, others pulsed like gentle heartbeats. Each one was different—some chaotic, some serene—but they all led back to you. A net of connection. Of love, loyalty, and laughter. And though no one else could see them, they were as real to you as the sea itself.

You smiled softly.

“May I join you?” came a gentle voice.

You looked up to find Robin approaching, a book tucked under one arm, her bracelet glinting softly in the fading light. Deep violet thread, tiny rose-gold accents, and a small book charm nestled at its center.

“Of course,” you said, shifting to make room.

She sat beside you, graceful as ever, folding one leg over the other and setting her book in her lap. For a moment, she said nothing—just sipped her own tea, gazing out at the horizon.

Then her voice broke the silence, low and thoughtful. “I’ve received many gifts in my life. Few as... sincere as this.”

You glanced at her wrist, where the bracelet sat snugly. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I don’t just like it,” she said. “I feel it. It’s strange. Even without seeing the threads, it feels like something is tied between us. Like it’s always been there, waiting.”

You stared into your cup for a long second, then spoke. “Sometimes… I wonder if people will misunderstand. That they’ll think I’m only getting close to others because it makes me stronger. That I’m just… using them.”

Robin turned toward you, eyes calm but sharp.

“That kind of power can’t be forced. And it certainly can’t be faked.”

You looked up.

“Your ability,” she said gently, “only works because you truly care. That’s what makes it powerful. And dangerous. Because if someone hurt one of us…” Her expression darkened for the briefest second. “I imagine you’d become unstoppable.”

You laughed softly, the sound half-embarrassed, half-relieved. “I guess I’d better stay on your good side.”

Robin smiled, but her gaze lingered on her bracelet. She ran her fingers over the little book charm, and for a brief moment, her lips trembled.

“I’ve spent most of my life being hunted,” she said. “Wanted. Feared. I never imagined someone would look at me and think, She matters enough to tie a thread to. But you did. And it means more than I know how to say.”

You nudged her shoulder gently, trying to keep things light. “Aw, Robin, don’t get all weepy on me now. You’re gonna make me cry, and then Chopper’s gonna panic again.”

She chuckled, brushing beneath one eye. “Too late.”

The sun dipped lower, gold spilling over the deck like spilled treasure. The threads shimmered in your mind’s eye—especially hers, now glowing warmer than ever.

“Thanks for sitting with me,” you murmured.

“Any time,” she said. “After all… we’re tied together now.”

-

Time aboard the Sunny had passed quick, and with each moment, your bonds grew stronger. You grew stronger.

-

Smoke curled through the dense trees of the island, the once-quiet jungle now a torn battlefield. Explosions echoed through the valley, and the Straw Hats were spread out, locked in skirmishes with a group of mercenaries hired to capture Devil Fruit users.

You stood at the center of it all—heart pounding, blood buzzing, a quiet hum in your ears like a rising crescendo.

This fight was different.

Not just because it was brutal—but because something inside you had clicked.

You could see the threads now. Not just shimmering faintly, but glowing. Pulsing. They surrounded you like a constellation, each one tied to someone you loved—and every single one sang with emotion.

Fear. Loyalty. Determination. Trust. Power.

A whip lashed toward you, charged with Haki. You dodged on instinct—not your own, but one you'd learned from watching Sanji every time he danced through the air.

You spun and dropped into a low sweep-kick, following through with an upward strike so fast your knuckles cracked the air—Luffy’s wild, rubbery rhythm channeled through your limbs, even without the stretch.

Your opponent staggered.

Then another merc came at you from behind, swinging a jagged blade—and you turned, blade in hand. Not your usual style. But the grip? The stance?

Zoro.

You moved with clean precision, a flash of green and steel in your mind, parrying the attack with force that sent vibrations up your arm. You didn’t hesitate—you let the bonds guide you.

Zoro’s quiet grit. Sanji’s graceful fire. Luffy’s reckless, joyful strength.

You weren’t mimicking them—you were fighting like someone who knew them inside and out. Someone shaped by them.

Across the battlefield, the others started to notice.

“Whoa—IS THAT [Y/N]?!” Usopp shouted from behind a crumbling stone wall.

“No way…” Chopper gasped, peeking over a boulder. “That move looked just like Sanji’s!”

Sanji froze mid-spin-kick, locking eyes with you across the field. “What the hell—did you just copy my move, sweetheart?!”

You grinned, lips bloody but eyes blazing. “Call it inspiration!”

“Oi!” Zoro barked, slicing through a trio of enemies. “I taught you that stance in a spar ONCE. ONCE!”

You shrugged, twirling the enemy’s weapon and chucking it back at another target with expert aim. “Guess it stuck.”

Robin, from above on a summoned flower-wing platform, watched with quiet awe. “She’s drawing strength from us… not like a parasite, but like a mirror.”

“She’s shining,” Nami whispered.

Luffy was the last to notice, mid-fight and laughing as he socked someone square in the jaw. Then his eyes landed on you—your form alive with golden threads dancing at your back like celestial ribbons.

His grin stretched wide.

“[Y/N]!!!” he called, ducking a punch and flinging an arm toward you. “YOU LOOK SO COOL RIGHT NOW!!!”

You burst out laughing, mid-spin, driving your heel into the ground and launching a mercenary several feet through the air.

One by one, the mercenaries began to retreat. You stood there panting, the threads still glowing—stronger than ever. And through them, you could feel it:

The bond. The trust. The undeniable connection.

Not just power borrowed—but power forged. Through shared meals. Inside jokes. Long nights and sea storms.

This strength wasn’t just yours. It was theirs, too.

As the battlefield quieted and the others regrouped, Luffy jogged up to you, hands on his hips.

“That was awesome,” he said, breathless with excitement. “You fought like all of us at once!”

You wiped blood from your lip and smiled. “Guess you guys are rubbing off on me.”

“Or maybe,” Robin said as she landed beside you, her bracelet faintly glowing, “you’ve finally started to see just how deeply we’re all tied together.”

You looked around at your crew—your family. The threads between you pulsed in soft, steady rhythm.

Yeah. You saw it. And now, they could, too.

-

The stars were beginning to peek through the darkened sky, the moon a silver coin casting gentle light across the deck. The crew was scattered around the Sunny in various states of exhaustion and satisfaction—wounds bandaged, bellies full, spirits high.

You sat at the bow, legs swinging over the edge, a mug of something warm cradled in your hands. The threads in your mind’s eye were quiet now, humming softly. Still glowing. Still strong.

You hadn’t stopped thinking about the battle—how instinctively the power had come, how natural it had felt to move with pieces of your friends inside you. It hadn’t been overwhelming. It had been comforting. Empowering.

You smiled faintly.

“Hey.”

You turned. Luffy stood behind you, hands in his pockets, his bracelet catching the moonlight. There was something different about his expression—still playful, still curious, but... softer. Quieter.

“Can I ask you something?” he said.

“Sure.”

He stepped closer, then sat beside you, stretching his legs out. “Can I… see them?”

You blinked. “See what?”

He turned to you, eyes wide with that impossible brightness. “The threads. The ones that tie us all together.”

Your heart stilled.

No one had ever asked before. Not seriously. Not like this. You’d always assumed it was just your burden—your gift. Your curse. A secret window only you could peer through.

You stared down at your hand, at the glowing lines stretching outward like an unseen web. “I… I don’t know if I can make them visible to others.”

Luffy didn’t push. He just tilted his head. “Wanna try?”

You looked at him for a moment.

Then nodded.

You set your mug down, sat up straight, and closed your eyes.

It started as a pull in your chest—like tugging thread through a needle. Carefully, slowly, you began to unravel that perception, pushing it outward. Extending it beyond yourself. You reached into the core of your fruit’s power, channeling not just energy, but emotion. Every laugh, every fight, every quiet cup of tea and silly card game and comforting shoulder.

You felt your fingers tremble.

Then—

“…Whoa,” Luffy whispered.

You opened your eyes.

The deck glowed.

Not brightly, not like fire or lightning—but soft, gentle light. Golden threads stretched between you and every single one of your crewmates, weaving through the ship like constellations. Some threads pulsed bright and strong—like the one leading from you to Luffy, or to Chopper, or to Robin. Others had more subtle glows, warm and steady.

Each thread was unique—colors, textures, patterns. You could feel their personalities through them.

Zoro’s thread was taut and grounded, like woven steel. Sanji’s danced with warmth, flickering like firelight. Nami’s sparkled with bursts of gold, laced with stormy energy. Robin’s was velvet-smooth, deep violet with intricate knots. Luffy’s—brightest of all—was wild and fluid, chaotic and beautiful. A living firework.

The crew slowly gathered, one by one, drawn by the shift in the air.

“What is this…” Nami whispered, stepping closer to one of the floating threads.

“Are these… ours?” Chopper asked, reaching out with trembling hooves.

“They’re real,” Zoro muttered, watching one pulse with his breath.

You were sweating now, concentrating hard. It took everything to maintain this projection—but you wanted them to see it. You wanted them to know.

“This is what I see,” you said quietly. “Every day. Every bond. Every thread that ties me to you.”

Robin stood beside you, eyes shimmering. “It’s beautiful.”

Usopp sniffled. “Why does mine look like it’s got beads on it?”

“Because I know how much you love flair,” you teased, voice trembling.

Luffy’s eyes hadn’t left the threads. His face was a mix of awe and joy, the kind of pure reaction only he could pull off.

“They’re alive,” he said. “These bonds… they’re really alive.”

You nodded. “They are. You make them real. You all do.”

And then—Luffy grinned.

He stood, arms stretched out wide as if trying to catch the sky.

“I LOVE IT!!!”

The others laughed, their voices light with wonder. Even Zoro cracked a smirk. Sanji tried to light a cigarette with shaking hands and gave up entirely, just staring at the glowing thread between you.

You held the image a few seconds longer—long enough to burn it into their memories—before gently letting it fade, like smoke in the wind.

The deck returned to normal.

But something lingered.

A feeling. A warmth. A knowing.

You leaned back with a breathless smile.

Luffy looked down at you, still grinning. “You’re awesome.”

You met his eyes, soft and shining. “So are you.”

-

The morning sun spilled golden light across the deck, warming the wood and shimmering off the sea. The crew gathered around the table for breakfast—freshly made by Sanji, as always—still glowing in the afterglow of yesterday’s battle and the reveal.

The memory of golden threads dancing in the air hadn’t left them.

Neither had the awe.

“So,” Sanji said casually, setting down a plate of sunny-side-up eggs in front of you with a flourish, “I believe it’s only right to point out that [Y/N] used my fighting style in that battle.”

“Light on your feet. Beautiful form. Graceful kicks that could kill a sea king.” He spun with a wink. “Clearly, the power of our bond is unmatched.”

Zoro made a sound. A sound. Low, dismissive, impatient.

“Your fancy footwork was one thing,” he said through a mouthful of rice. “But the real strength came when she ended that merc with a full-on counterstrike. That was my technique.”

You raised a brow at your plate. Here we go.

Sanji bristled. “Counterstrike? She deflected a two-ton punch with a spinning heel kick. That’s my move.”

“Please,” Zoro scoffed. “She stood her ground and overpowered him. No spinning. Just raw strength. That was me.”

“She even moved like me,” Sanji snapped. “You couldn’t twirl to save your life.”

“Because I don’t need to twirl to win, curly-brow.”

“Want me to twirl you overboard—?!”

Nami sighed. “It’s too early for testosterone.”

Usopp munched toast, watching them with wide eyes. “This is weirdly flattering. They’re fighting over who has a better connection with [Y/N].”

“They’re fighting over whose bond is stronger,” Robin said lightly, sipping tea. “It’s oddly romantic.”

You sat back, sipping your own tea, amused beyond words.

But Sanji wasn’t done.

He turned from Zoro mid-argue, marched over to you, and—

Knelt. On one knee. Took your hand.

You blinked.

You flushed.

Your brain, traitorous and immediate: MARRIAGE?!

“[Y/N],” Sanji said with utmost sincerity, gazing up at you like you’d hung the stars yourself. “Out of all the bonds you hold… which one is the most powerful?”

The entire table went silent.

Zoro choked on his rice.

You stared, your face slowly going crimson. “I—um. That’s… I mean…”

He lifted your hand to his lips.

Your heart actually stopped.

You gave a slow, thoughtful hum, eyes narrowing mischievously. “Hmm… Sanji, Zoro… it’s honestly so close.”

Sanji’s smile widened like he was about to win.

But then—

You grinned.

Eyes gleaming.

You gripped his hand tighter, leaned in just slightly, and said with a soft, velvety voice:

“Of course… I could always strengthen the bond in… other ways.”

Sanji made a sound like someone had just pulled the pin on a very flustered grenade.

Then—

He died.

He dropped like a marionette whose strings had been cut, flat on the deck with swirly eyes and a blissed-out smile.

Usopp dropped his toast. Chopper shrieked. Robin covered her mouth, amused. Luffy burst out laughing so hard he fell backward off the bench.

You threw your head back, laughing with your whole chest. “Oh my god, I didn’t think he’d actually pass out—”

Zoro rolled his eyes but was smirking. “Serves him right.”

As Sanji twitched on the floor, hearts floating from his head like steam, you picked up your tea again and sipped calmly.

“Guess that answers his question.”

-

The waves rocked the Sunny gently, a lullaby of the sea, as the last rays of the sun kissed the horizon in shades of peach and gold. Most of the crew had turned in early, worn out from the chaos of the past few days.

But you stayed on deck, sitting near the figurehead with your knees tucked up to your chest and a blanket around your shoulders. The breeze was cool, but the warmth in your chest kept you from feeling it.

You could see them again—the threads.

Still glowing.

Still alive.

They shimmered faintly in the dusk light, stretched like constellations across the deck and walls and sails. So many beautiful bonds. So many pieces of yourself that had once been broken, now tied to others.

You felt whole.

But one thread… One thread blazed like sunlight.

It wasn’t just bright. It wasn’t just strong. It radiated.

Wild and untamed. Joyful and fierce. The thread tied to Luffy.

You didn’t even have to look to feel him behind you.

“Hey,” he said softly.

You turned. He was barefoot, messy-haired as always, arms behind his head like he had all the time in the world. He plopped down beside you, crisscross applesauce, and stared out at the sea with a relaxed smile.

“I knew you’d be up here,” he added, glancing at you. “You always look at the sky when you’re thinking.”

You smiled back. “I could say the same to you.”

He grinned wider, and for a long moment, you both just sat in comfortable silence.

The wind tugged at your hair. The sea whispered. And the thread between you glowed like firelight in your chest.

“Hey, Luffy,” you said finally. “Do you… remember when you first found me?”

He blinked, then nodded once, slow. “Yeah. You were in that weird old port town. Working for that rich jerk.”

You nodded, eyes distant. “More like owned. I didn’t even realize I was fading until you walked in, like a storm. You didn’t even hesitate. Just looked at me and said, ‘Wanna come with us?’”

Luffy’s smile softened. “Well, yeah. You looked like someone who needed the sky.”

Your throat tightened.

“You saved me, you know,” you whispered. “Not just from that place, but from… me. I used to think my powers only worked if I earned people’s love. Like I had to be useful. Like I had to deserve it.”

Luffy was quiet, watching your face.

“But you…” Your voice wavered. “You just… took me. Like I was already something precious. Like I didn’t have to earn anything.”

He didn’t say anything right away. Then he reached out—softly, gently—and tugged the edge of your blanket until you scooted closer. Your shoulder touched his.

“You are something precious,” he said matter-of-factly. “That’s why you shine so much.”

You felt your chest tighten in the best way. That thread between you burned golden. Stronger than any other. Stronger than steel, stronger than fate.

“I used to think I needed someone to be my light,” you murmured. “But I think… maybe I just needed someone to let me shine.”

You looked at him.

And smiled.

“You’re the sun, Luffy. You just don’t know it.”

He laughed, a little awkward, rubbing the back of his neck. “Nah. You’re the one glowing all the time.”

You reached over and took his hand—warm and calloused and steady. The thread between you flared in your mind like a second heartbeat.

“Yeah,” you said. “But only because I’m standing in your light.”

For once, Luffy didn’t answer with words. He just grinned—really grinned—and leaned his forehead against yours, laughing under his breath like you’d told him a secret that made him happy.

And you laughed too. Because you’d never felt more seen. Or more safe.

Wrapped in his sunlight. Tied to something bigger than fate.

[zeroseuniverse]

Can you do ot9 zb1 reaction to a clingy s/o? Or just yujin is fine!

ZB1 Reaction: When Their S/O Is Clingy

Taglist:@zaycie @sh0dor1 @tinyelfperson @lezleeferguson-120 @llunaticc13 @1daily2lele7 @etaernaluvv @hanninova

Hanbin

He lives for it. Wrap your arms around him randomly? He’s pulling you closer. “You’re extra cuddly today,” he chuckles, resting his chin on your head like it’s the most natural thing. Even in public, he’ll hold your hand tight and swing it lightly while walking. The only time he gets flustered is when you're extra whiny on the phone like,

“Come back faster, I miss you already!” And he’ll smile so hard people around him think he’s lost it.

Jiwoong

At first, he’s caught off guard—like, you want to be this close all the time? But he secretly loves it. He acts nonchalant but gives in easily.

“You don’t get tired of clinging to me?” You shake your head and loop your arm through his tighter. He sighs dramatically... and then links his fingers with yours. He might tease you, but deep down, your clinginess reassures him more than he admits.

Zhang Hao

He freezes the first few times you sneak up behind him to hug his waist.

“You scared me!” But then he softens, slowly placing a hand over yours. He’s a little shy about clinginess in front of others—but in private? Leans into it so fast. You fall asleep on his chest, clingy arms wrapped around him, and he stays perfectly still just to let you rest. He never says no to affection. He just blushes while receiving it.

Matthew

Absolutely thrives on it. If you're clingy, he’s clingier. You’re wrapped around his arm? He’s already pulling you into a hug.

“You miss me? I missed you more.” He’ll kiss your cheek every two minutes just because you’re near. And when you're whining about him leaving for practice, he’s like: “Okay, I’m skipping. Just kidding. Unless?” The king of matching energy with a big grin.

Taerae

He's shy about it but secretly loves that you're so physically affectionate. He gets really giggly when you won’t let go of his hand, even during mundane things.

“You're seriously holding my hand while we pick shampoo?” Yes. Yes you are. He plays it cool but always leans toward you when you’re close—like his body naturally gravitates to you. At night, if you curl up beside him, he mumbles something like: “You're gonna make me soft like this…”

Ricky

He pretends to be unaffected but crumbles fast. You wrap your arms around his waist while he’s doing something?

“Are you that obsessed with me?” Yes. And he loves it. He puts on his usual confident smile, but the tips of his ears are red. He may joke about you being “too attached,” but he’ll absolutely pout when you’re not around. “So clingy... don’t stop.”

Gyuvin

He explodes with joy every time. You want to sit on his lap while watching TV? Done. Cling to his back like a koala? He’s running around the room giving you a piggyback ride. He’s affectionate too, so your clinginess just feeds his endless need to love and be loved.

“Wait—hug me again. No—again. One more. I’m not done yet.” The kind of boyfriend who will dramatically act like he’s dying when you let go.

Gunwook

Caught off guard at first—he stiffens like a startled cat. You hug him while he’s cooking?

“Wh—babe! You’re gonna make me mess this up.” But the corners of his mouth betray him. He secretly loves how much you want to be near him. And when he’s the clingy one (because your clinginess rubbed off), he acts casual like, “What? I'm just resting my head here. Not a big deal.”

Yujin

Absolutely flustered 100% of the time. You sit next to him and rest your head on his shoulder? He forgets how to breathe. He acts like he’s used to it, but his ears are always red. Still, he lets you cling. Always.

“You—uh—you can hold my hand if you want…” (You already were.) He gets used to it eventually and starts looking for you when you’re not nearby, missing that closeness more than he expected.

[idkwhatimdoinghere1655]

Are your requests open? I would love to request a dad!carlos fic if you feel like it ❤️ also side note, I’m not a huge Max fan but your baby fever fic literally had me kicking my feet and giggling so well done

Picture of Perfection - Carlos Sainz

<word count - 9785>

If you were being honest with yourself, you shouldn't have been in work today. You had never felt worse, and it was really putting a damper on your performance. You had been Fred Vasseur's assistant since he had replaced Binotto at Ferrari, and your job was pretty easy.

You sorted his schedule and his emails into different sections. But today, you couldn't even muster the energy to respond to the numerous unimportant emails that Fred received on a daily basis. Your head was throbbing, you felt sick to your stomach, and you wished you could shrivel up into a ball and die.

As the phone rung, the shrill ringtone felt like a nail being tapped into your skull with every note, and you were sure your head was going to explode. Picking up the call wasn't at the top of your to do list, but if it stopped the ringing, then it was worth it.

"You're speaking to Y/N, how can I help?" you said, trying to sound as cheerful as possible. As long as people didn't look at you, there was no way to tell that you felt like you were dying. "I think you're the one that needs help," a voice chuckled, and relief flooded you when you heard it.

"Did you call to talk to Fred, or to make fun of me, Carlos?" You asked your oh so sympathetic fiance. "We have our fun, but I was calling to check up on you. How are you feeling, querida?" he asked, his tone changing to a slightly more soft one.

"I'm fine, just a little rough. I'll bring your lunch down in a few," you said, checking the time on your computer. "You really don't sound fine," he pressed, but he had bigger things to focus on today. Him and Charles were testing out some upgrades on the car.

"I will be after lunch, I'm sure. Can you ask Charles if he wants anything as well?" You said, walking to the canteen. Carlos knew you wouldn't be fine, but he would wait to see you to make his final decisions about what he would do with you.

You heard some muffled voices through the phone, before Carlos said, "Yeah, get him the same as me, I'll see you in a minute," he said, putting the phone down. You trudged down to the canteen and picked up the food for the pair of them.

As you walked, people cast dubious glances in your direction. You knew you felt awful, but it was apparent that you weren't looking great either. You kept your head held as high as you could as you wandered down to the garage, and found Carlos and Charles sat by their cars as the mechanics adjusted some things.

"Lunch is served," you smiled, painting on your best poker face. But, there were cracks running through from the start, and Carlos saw straight through it. They both thanked you as you handed them their lunch, and you stepped to stand back beside Carlos.

"Come on, tell me what's wrong," Carlos said, barely loud enough to be heard over the noise of the cars and machines that the engineers and mechanics were running. "I promise, I'm OK," you reassured him. He knew that was a lie, and so did everyone around you.

Your skin was paler and your eyes looked sunken. You were also looking more dishevelled than normal, since you were usually quite bright and bouncy. "If you don't tell me what's wrong, then I can't help you," he said, looking up at you with those big brown eyes.

His fingers slowly trailed up and down your spine as you stood next to him, and you felt a wave of nausea rush over you. The smell of the oil, the fuel and burning rubber caused your stomach to twist in knots, and you firmly gripped your hand onto Carlos' shoulder to steady yourself. You were slightly dizzy and unsteady on your feet.

"Hey, hey, sit down for a second," he told you, standing up and gently pushing you towards the seat he had just vacated. Sitting down was arguably the last thing you needed right now. Your eyes darted around the garage, hunting something down that would be the best option to spill your guts into.

Nothing checked out.

Your last option was to sprint to the bathrooms at the back of the garage, and you came up with all of this in around a second. Your mind had never worked so fast. Within a blink of an eye, you had run all the way across the garage, hand firmly pressed against your mouth.

"Shit," you heard Carlos say behind you as his footsteps followed you closely. You barged through the ladies room and into the first open stall. Everything that you had eaten throughout the day exited your body in a violent wretch, and your throat was left burning and raw.

"You're OK, just let it out," Carlos said, rubbing your back and pulling your hair out of the way. You looked up at him, concern written all over his face. "You guys OK?" you heard Charles shout, confused at how fast everything had gone south.

"Could you pass me a water, please?" Carlos called back, going to the door to catch it. Throwing it might not have been the best idea, but it certainly was the quickest. He cracked it open, before handing it to you.

"Thanks," you said, your voice scratchy and hoarse as you spoke. The taste of it still lingered on your tongue and it was far from pleasant. "I'll go get your stuff, then I'll drive you home," he said, handing you some paper towels from the dispenser.

"I'll be fine, it'll pass," you said, taking a sip from the water.

"No, you need to go home," he said, taking a step towards you. You were never sick, so this was unusual. He would be more worried about you if you were at work, because you'd be more comfortable at home.

You took another sip of your water. "Honestly, Carlos, I'll be fine in-," you started, before hunching back over the toilet. It was just straight water, and your body was rejecting everything you put in it. "You were saying?" he teased, leaning against the sinks.

You just looked at him, discomfort etched onto your features. "Come on, you're going home," he said, gently taking your elbow. "I can drive myself, you've got important stuff to do," you said, not wanting to interrupt his day.

"I'm on break for an hour, that's enough time to get you home," he said, his heart aching to see you like you were. "OK, I'll go and tell Fred I'm going,"

"I'll take care of all that, you just go to the car and I'll get your stuff," he told you, leading you out of the bathroom and back through the garage. "You alright?" Charles asked, realising how much worse you looked in the pan of five minutes.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be fine," you weakly smiled at him.

"I'll be back in a bit," Carlos told him as he helped you walk out to the car. You sat in the passenger seat, actually quite glad to be going home. Carlos went to get your things, and came back to the car. "When we get home, you're going straight to bed," Carlos said.

"Sure, dad," you laughed, the motion of you giggling making your stomach churn. You closed your eyes for a minute, waiting for it to pass. "Just breathe, baby," he told you as if you hadn't already tried that.

"Easier said than done," you said, gripping your thighs to try and take the edge off, to focus your mind on something else. Without another word, Carlos took one of your hands and threaded his fingers through yours as he drove home. His thumb subconsciously ran up and down, just out of habit.

You pulled up outside your house, slowly stepping out of the car. You took another moment to steady yourself, the dizziness returning. "Take it steady, take it steady," Carlos softly instructed, looping an arm around your waist as he walked you inside.

"Couch or bed?" Carlos asked as you stood in the entrance hall.

"Couch, it's close to the kitchen and the bathroom," you said as he sat you on the couch.

"You want to get changed?" He asked. He had this compulsion inside of him to take care of you. Seeing you uncomfortable made him uncomfortable. It was like this itch inside his brain that couldn't be scratched unless you were happy.

"The less moving involved, the better," you said, flopping down on the couch and not wanting to move from your position. "I'll see what I can do," he nodded, ascending up the stairs and rooting through the drawers to find what he was looking for.

Yes, it was his hoodie, but you wore it more than him. He would wear it once, then it was yours for the taking. "Here, do you want a drink?" He said, passing you the hoodie. You slipped it over your head, not bothered to take off your clothes from work.

"No thanks, it would come back to bite me anyway," you told him, bringing your knees up to your chest as you settled against the armrest of the couch. "You need to stay hydrated, you'll feel worse if you don't," he said, disappearing into the kitchen and returning with a glass of water.

"I'll try," you said. Carlos picked a blanket up from the back of the couch and draped it over you, making sure you were cosy. "You need anything else before I go?" He asked, not wanting to leave you by yourself. This was one of those days where you would benefit from his presence, from him holding you.

"I don't think so, I'll see you later," you tried to smile, not wanting him to be late for the end of lunch break. Charles would be waiting for him and so would everyone else. "OK, call me if you need me, alright?" He said, approaching you and kissing you on the forehead.

"I will," you said, picking up the TV remote and pressing the 'on' button. You shifted around for a second, before finding your comfy position. "I'll be back as soon as I can," he called, closing the door and heading back to the factory.

After around an hour, you tried sipping at the water, but it just came back up after a few minutes. As the movie you were watching came to a close, you were left in silence after the entire credits had rolled.

You were left thinking. You hadn't been feeling too great for the last few days, but this was the worst of it. It didn't take much thinking for you to come to a conclusion. There were a few factors that added to it too.

Surely not though, right? And this wasn't the time for that. You and Carlos hadn't been engaged for that long, and you weren't thinking about that now. Maybe in a few years, yes, but definitely not now.

You sat there, fighting with yourself in your mind, feeling sicker with worry than you did with nausea. You told yourself you were being silly, and that you were just jumping to the most drastic conclusion possible.

Everything was going to be fine.

Carlos, on the other hand, was worried sick about you for a whole other reason. He thought you were sick, like, sick sick. Not the kind of sick you thought you were. He thought you had a stomach bug, but not a literal one.

Him and Charles had another quick, fifteen minute break to sit and have a drink while the mechanics tinkered on some things. "Is Y/N alright?" Charles asked, glugging some more water down. "Yeah, she'll be fine. It's probably just a bug or something,"

"You sure?" Charles questioned, cocking an eyebrow at his friend. "She's been off for what, nearly two weeks?" he said, referring to your numerous complaints about different ailments you had.

"I'm sure it's nothing," Carlos dismissed. You'd be right as rain again in a couple of days, that's what he kept telling himself. "You two have plenty of fun, just think about it," Charles smirked.

"No, no, mhm," Carlos shook his head in embarrassment, "I know what you're implying, but no," he rushed. "That you get up to a lot or what could be up with Y/N?"

"Both," Carlos said, standing and leaving Charles by himself. He couldn't think about either of those things right now.

--

"Carlos, is that you?" You called out, trying to act like everything was fine and you were feeling better. Well, you were feeling better, but you were just anxious. "Yeah, it's me," he said, walking into the living room and sitting on the couch next to you. "How are you feeling?"

"I feel alright, but the water came straight back up when I tried drinking it," you explained, not able to meet his eyes. He could tell there was something wrong by your body language. You were stiff and your hands were fidgeting.

"Come on, what's wrong?" he pressed, and you could feel his eyes burning holes into the side of your face. "Nothing, I feel fine," you told him, shrugging your shoulders.

"Then what's really wrong?" he asked, grabbing your chin and turning your head so that you were looking at him. You didn't want to tell him. You didn't want him to be mad. This wasn't part of the plan.

You whispered what you wanted to say, but so quietly it was unintelligible. You weren't even sure you had fully formed legible words. "Louder, querida,".

"I think I'm pregnant," you said, staring into his eyes, searching. Searching for any sense of anger, annoyance, hatred towards you. But you saw nothing but the soft brown eyes you had become so accustomed to.

"Have you done a test or anything?" he asked, not really knowing what to say to you.

"No, not yet," you muttered, averting your eyes down to your hands instead of at Carlos.

"Then I'll go to the store, pick one up, and we can see, OK?" he asked.

"Yeah, OK, sounds good," you nodded, and he was gone nearly as quickly as he came. You didn't have a clue how he felt, he was completely neutral. He didn't show any emotion.

Before you knew it, you had left the test on the bathroom counter and sat with your back against it while you waited for the time to be over. Carlos wordlessly came and sat next you, resting his hands on his knees.

"What're we going to do if I am?" you broke the silence, the question being on the tip of your tongue since he had gotten back home. "I'll support whatever decision you make, no matter what," he said, his tone dripping with sincerity.

"If I am, I want to keep it," you mumbled, waiting for him to yell at you or walk out.

"Then I'll be here every step of the way," he said, "I- I want a baby with you, Y/N, I really do," he told you, placing a calming hand on your thigh. "I feel like there's a 'but' at the end of that sentence," you nervously said.

"No, baby, no, there's no but. I mean it," he said, and a part of you felt comforted at his words. The minutes went by and they felt like hours. Long, agonizing hours. "How long has it been?" he asked.

"Two minutes, I think?"

"OK, we'll give it a bit longer so the results are clear and everything," he nodded. He didn't want to tell you how much he actually wanted you to be pregnant, just in case you weren't. He didn't want you to feel like you had let him down or anything.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, turning to look at you. You were still pale, and you were still mindlessly fiddling with your fingers. "I'm scared, nervous, but excited at the same time. I'll be kind of disappointed if I'm not, but also terrified if I am,"

"Well whatever the outcome is, I'll be here. If you are, then that's great. But if you aren't, we can think about it fully and maybe start properly trying if that's what you want," he explained, and it sounded like music to your ears. "What would we do about the wedding?"

"I'd still have our wedding if you were pregnant, but if you don't want to, then we can wait. I honestly don't mind," he smiled, his fingers tracing random circles on the skin of your thigh. You were counting your lucky stars that you had ended up with a guy like Carlos.

"You think we should check?" you nervously laughed, genuinely not knowing what you wanted the outcome to be. "Do you want to do it or do you want me to do it?" he asked, wanting to make this as easy as possible for you.

"Could you go and stand outside while I do it?" you asked, and he happily nodded and stood outside the bathroom as you closed the door. You blocked out the world around you. In this moment, it was just you and your thoughts.

You took a deep breath, trying to slow your heart rate down a bit. You thought prolonging it would only make it worse, so you turned over the test on the counter and had to clap your hand over your mouth to stop yourself from screaming.

You stared at it, as if looking at it longer would change it. As if it would make that second pink line disappear. You tried to compose yourself before going to tell Carlos. You were trying to hide the joy, just incase what he said earlier was just him being supportive.

"Y/N? Baby? Are you alright?" he said, knocking on the door gently. You didn't answer, unsure of what would come out if you opened your mouth. "Querida? Por favor, diga algo," (please, say something). You could hear the concern and worry in his voice, but your mouth wouldn't say the words you wanted it to say.

"Can I come in?" he asked, getting really concerned at your lack of a response. He wouldn't have been surprised if he walked in and you had passed out due to your silence. Just as he turned the door handle, you opened the door.

You looked at him, wide-eyed, as you handed him the thing that would change your lives forever. You searched his face, trying to find any hints of emotion. You could see the beginnings of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, but you were certain your eyes were playing tricks on you.

You couldn't handle it anymore, so you threw your arms around his neck. "Are you happy?" he asked, not wanting to give his full reaction until he knew how you felt. "I'm ecstatic, you?"

"I'm over the moon, baby," he smiled, squeezing you back. He let you go, and you couldn't help but allow a few happy tears to slip down your cheeks."I think we're going to have to postpone the wedding," you told him, and he smiled and nodded.

"You're having my baby, your wish is my command," he said, vowing to be there through every little thing, and he was your slave for the next nine-or-so months. That was the least you deserved.

"This is amazing," you smiled, not really finding the words to express the joy you felt. It had all been so quick, but it had led to this, so you weren't going to complain. "Looks like you're stuck with me forever, now," you joked.

"I wouldn't have it any other way," he smiled, trailing his fingers up and down your hips. You were all he ever wanted, and now you were having his child. His child. It didn't sound real, but in the best way possible.

--

You had gotten home early, and you couldn't stop looking and touching at the small bump you had growing. You were around 4 months pregnant at this point, and you couldn't have been more excited for your impending arrival.

You had just received a text from Carlos, asking if you wanted anything from the store while he was on his way home. He did this every day, no matter the time, no matter how tired he was, no matter what.

You and your baby came before everything and anything, with no exceptions. He treat you like a princess, and sometimes he stepped around you like you were a paper-thin sheet of glass. He didn't let you do much by yourself anymore.

You didn't mind, but you had asked him to stop treating you as if you were incompetent. You replied to his text with a food combination you had been desperate to try all day. Your brain was just telling you it would be good, so you thought you would feed it what it wanted.

Carlos responded with a 'That's gross, but sure', and you couldn't help but laugh. He was back after fifteen minutes, your items in hand. "If you get ill, don't blame me, OK?" he laughed, handing you the jar of pickles as well as the peanut butter.

"I honestly hate how good this looks to me right now," you laughed as he took a seat next to you. "Y'know, the lady at the counter said, 'It's either you know someone who's pregnant, or you've got weird tastes," he told you as you cracked open the peanut butter with a pop.

"What did you say?" asked, trying to open the jar of pickles, but struggling immensely.

"I told her my fiance was pregnant, and she was relieved," he laughed, finding it very amusing to watch you struggle. "Hand it here," he said, and you passed him the jar with a huff. Effortlessly, Carlos opened the jar of pickles, and you hated the way you felt about it.

It just made you tingle all over, and you blamed the hormones for making you go crazy. It was just something about the way his arms flexed to make his muscles pop and how his knuckles went white because of how hard he was gripping the lid.

"You like what you see?" he smirked, handing you the jar again.

"Maybe I do," you replied with a grin, batting your eyelashes at him. He looked at you with the eyes, and they never failed to reduce you to mush and answer his every last little request. But you had him under your spell.

"Later, querida," he winked at you, pushing himself off the couch. "I'm going to have a shower, you think you can cope with the thought of me till them?" he teased.

"Oh I'll be fine, don't you worry," you giggled.

"But first, I want to see the disgust on your face when you realise how disgusting that combination is," he laughed, leaning over the back of the couch to look at you. You dipped the pickle into the peanut butter and took a bite out of it.

"OK that is actually really nice," you smiled, going back in for another taste. Carlos' nose scrunched up in disgust. "That is nasty, ew, no," be laughed, backing away and up the stairs. "You should try it!" you collared, and you were met with a hearty laugh.

When Carlos came back downstairs from the shower, his hair was wet and he look a lot comfier. A lot hotter too. "How were the pickles?" He asked, looking at the pickle jar that only had a quarter of the pickles left in it. And the half-empty jar of peanut butter.

"Great, you want one?" you offered, brandishing the jar in front of him. Carlos didn't like pickles on the best of days, but definitely not now. "Not a chance, that shit is nasty," he laughed, pushing the jar back towards you.

"I'll tell you what else could be nasty," you smirked, looking at him with a devilish smile on your face. "Oh, so you're being like that, baby?"

"Maybe I am," you said, leaning back and watching as that mischievous glint sparkled in his eyes. "I'll see what I can do for you, then," he grinned, walking towards you. You knew just what to say to make him tick, and you had done it again.

--

As much as your bump slowed you down, it didn't make you work any less hard. Fred had asked you to carry a box of some sort of documents down to the guys at the garage, and you were glad to be able to stretch your legs.

You got to the door to get out of the office, but you couldn't open it with the box in your hands. As any normal person would, you put the box on the floor to open the door, and then bent over to pick it back up.

"Hey, hey, hey, you OK?" Carlos appeared out of nowhere, pulling you back so you were stood upright. "Yeah, I'm just taking this box down to the garage," you nodded, appreciating the concern. He thought you were doubled over and in pain, but he was glad to be wrong.

"You go sit down, I've got it," he said, picking the box up.

"Carlos, I need to do something with myself, a bit of exercise is good for me," you told him, trying to pull the box off him. "No heavy lifting, that's what the doctors said, you can walk with me," he said, setting off through the door.

"You think that that box his heavy? You need to work out more, Carlos," you mocked, walking beside him. "No, but you know that's not what I mean. Minimal strain,"

"I think you pay more attention than I do," you laughed, skipping down the stairs.

"Someone has to take care of you," he playfully rolled his eyes at you, watching your every move as you hopped down the stairs. "Where do you want this?" He asked as you reached the garage.

"Just put it down there, they'll know it's there," you said, pointing to the corner Fred told you to put the box in. He had told the mechanics that it was there, and someone would come and find it later.

"What are you even doing here today?" you asked, the question suddenly dawning on you. You knew there was no testing on the car, and Fred didn't have any meetings with him or Charles today. "Just some stuff with the media people and stuff," he lied.

Well, half-lied. They did have a meeting with the media people, but that had finished an hour ago. He didn't need to be at the factory anymore, but he was compelled to keep an eye on you. It wasn't that he thought you were incapable of taking care of yourself, he just needed to be there in case anything went wrong.

If you needed him, he would be there. If something happened and he wasn't, he would never be able to forgive himself. "OK, well I'll see you in a bit," you said, seeing that something was up but not thinking too much about it.

You walked away and off to your desk to do another hour-or-so's work before you broke off for lunch. You checked Fred's calendar again, answered a lot of emails, but you felt a pair of eyes lingering on you.

You looked up from your screen, but you didn't see anyone there. But, as soon as you focused back on your work, you felt the eyes glued to you again. This time when you looked up, you saw a motion in the doorway in front of you.

Sighing to yourself, you figured you would leave Car- I mean the mystery individual to play their little games. You let him watch for a bit, let him think he had won. Then, you looked up again, catching him dashing behind the doorway.

"Carlos, what are you doing?" you called out, staring at the doorway. There was zero movement, and he clearly thought he was being slick. "Carlos, come on darling, what are you doing?" you called out again, and he slowly wandered out.

"I was just inspecting the doorframe, making sure it wasn't going to collapse or something," he rambled, leaning on your desk with his hands on the edge of the wood. "Sure you were, don't you have media stuff to be doing?" you skeptically asked.

"Yeah, actually, I have to go and do that, right now," he said, turning around and walking away as quickly as he could. It was very odd, but you just thought it was Carlos being Carlos.

Finally, lunch rolled around and you took yourself to the kitchen, where your lunch sat waiting for you in the fridge. The kitchen was empty, since you tended to take lunch later than everyone else, and it was nice to have some silence during the day.

Next to you, you heard something falling off the table, and turned to see a potted plant on the floor, with soil everywhere. Then you saw the perpetrator. "What's your excuse for sitting under a table while I'm eating my lunch, Carlos?"

"I was uh-," he stuttered, and you could see the cogs turning in his brain, trying to churn out an excuse. "Go on, lie to me," you said, staring daggers into his soul.

"Fine, I was just making sure you were OK, that's all," he breathed, sitting down opposite you.

"I can take care of myself, Carlos. You don't need to watch over me 'secretly' like you have been all day," you told him, watching as his cheeks tinted pink and he couldn't meet your gaze. "Querida, I know that, I just want to be here if you need me,"

"If I need you, I will call you. Go home, relax, have some peace and quiet. We will be completely fine," you reassured him, and you could tell he still wasn't fully convinced. You also didn't think it would take that much, but there you were.

"Look, I really appreciate you wanting to be here for me, I really do. But you don't have to watch my every move. If I need you, I will tell you," you further pressed, taking his hand from across the table.

"Do I have to go home though? I can just sit with you at your desk, bring you snacks, talk if you get bored. You won't even know I'm there, baby, I promise," he pleaded, looking at you through those big brown eyes.

"Go home, and take some time for yourself. It's not a request, it's an order," you said sternly. Carlos looked dejected, and he had resigned himself to the fact that there was nothing he could do. "Yes ma'am," he sighed, unhooking his jacket off the rack with a sulk.

"Please?" he begged one more time, standing by the door.

"Go home." You told him one more time. He pouted, and you glared at him. He knew not to argue with you when you were being really stern with him, and he knew he had to go. Carlos didn't know what he'd do without you at home.

He literally lived to serve you, and make sure you and your child were OK. That was his life, besides racing. He hadn't been by himself in a while, and he felt kind of lost without you. But he did as he was told, and went home, by himself.

The second he got home, he couldn't resist the urge to pick up his phone and text you. 'Hey baby, how are you doing?' and you just sighed, looking at your phone. There was no way you were responding to him.

'Hey, is everything OK?' he texted back around fifteen minutes later, the show he was watching wasn't occupying his mind like he wanted it to. No matter what, every thought in his mind was replaced by panicked thoughts of you, in pain or something.

He couldn't go by a second without worrying for you if you weren't around him. You ignored this message too, thinking it would teach him a lesson. 'Querida, if you don't tell me you're OK, I will come straight back to work,' he messaged, his leg nervously bouncing up and down.

He was staring daggers into the car keys on the coffee table, almost willing them into his hand by telepathy. When you read that text, you knew he was deadly serious, so you had to text him back. 'Carlos. You come back to work and we are going to have some serious issues. I'm fine,'

Carlos almost didn't want you to respond, just so he'd have the excuse to drive back to work. But he needed to know you were alright, he just wouldn't be able to make sure of that himself. He had a secret weapon lurking up his sleeve.

He might have been sent home, but he knew someone who hadn't been. Charles was at the factory, and he was actually supposed to be there, because he actually had meetings. He would check on you between meetings, and report back to Carlos.

You were sat on your desk, when Charles walked past and smiled. Obviously, you smiled back and didn't think twice about it. Ten minutes later, he came back and stood right in front of your desk, seeming to be doing something on his phone.

You caught his eyes as they flicked up from the screen and onto you, before he walked away. "Hey, do you know if Fred had any messages for me?" Charles asked, coming over to your desk. "No, nothing," you shook your head.

"Can you check?" Charles asked, as if he were expecting something, but you knew there was nothing. "There's nothing," you told him again.

"Fine, fine," he said, knowing there was nothing he could do, "How are you feeling?" he asked, leaning over the desk. "You can tell Carlos I'm fine and that nothing is wrong," you said, instantly sussing out what he was doing.

"I'm just asking how you are," he sheepishly explained, rubbing the back of his neck.

"You're a bad liar, I'm fine," you said, resting your head on your hands.

"But he-"

"Charles. Tell him I am fine," you instructed, glaring at him. He put his hands up defensively, backing up from the desk. "OK, OK, I get it," he said backing away and out into the hallway. He texted Carlos to tell him that you had foiled their plans.

You rolled your eyes as he walked away, but a small grin spread on your lips at the thought of him, texting Charles and asking him to watch over you.

--

"Shit," you whispered to yourself, turning over for the literal thousandth time. No position was comfortable, your overly swollen stomach got in the way at every turn. You just decided to lie there in the dark, your eyes wide open as you stared into the blackness.

There were rims of moonlight coming through the sides of the curtains, but that was it. Carlos was so tired after a day at the factory, and he had been out for hours at this point. In the end, you thought you'd lie there until you became so tired you would pass out.

No matter what, everything was aching. Your back was constantly sending uncomfortable shoots up your spine, and it made everything a challenge. Including falling asleep. This combined with the pounding in your head didn't help. Turning your head to the side, you saw that it was nearing on three am.

You turned your attention back on the ceiling as you thought about what you were going to do tomorrow. Well, later that same day. You had been on maternity leave for around two weeks, and you had already done everything you wanted to do around the house.

Time ticked agonizingly by, the silence and darkness driving you crazier by the second. And more frustrated at the lack of sleep you were getting. Just as you were going to go downstairs and do something to try and make yourself tired, the bed shifted next to you and the bathroom light flicked on.

You stayed in the same position, expecting him to just walk back to bed and not notice you. The second before he turned the light off, he notices your open eyes looking back at him. "Hey, baby, did I wake you up?" he asked in a hushed whisper, getting back into bed and shuffling as close to you as possible.

"No, don't worry. I wasn't asleep," you said, sighing.

"What, so you haven't slept?" he asked, lying on his side to face you as his fingers traced shapes on your stomach. "No, I can't," you shook your head, hoping he would just brush it off and go back to sleep, but you knew he wouldn't.

"What can I do?" he asked. You may not have been able to see him very well, but you could feel his eyes burning holes in the side of your face. "I'll fall asleep soon, I'm really tired," you told him, your right hand tangling into his dark locks.

"Well then, what can I do to help you fall asleep quicker?" he lightly chuckled, prodding you gently in the ribs. "You've had a long day, darling, go to sleep," you instructed, not wanting to make him tired later.

"You've had just as long a day as I have, querida, you need to sleep too. You not sleeping isn't good for you, it isn't good for the baby, and that therefore means it's not good for me either," he chuckled. "So you're trying to guilt trip me into letting you help me?" you asked, and you could just picture the smirk you knew was on his face.

"Yes and no, and I know it's working. We're in this together, if you're awake, I'm awake. If you need something, I am here," he told you. You weren't the biggest fan of always relying on him for things, since you liked to have some form of independence, but it was times like these where you were extremely grateful to have someone so caring and doting.

"So, do you want a tea, or an extra blanket, or we can go and do something until you get tired?" he listed, masking the yawn he was letting out. "A tea sounds great," you told him, and he was gone like a flash. "Do you want anything else while I'm downstairs?"

"Could you grab two paracetamols and my book off the coffee table?" you asked, the hall light switching on outside. "Headache?"

"No points for guessing that one," you laughed, rubbing your temples as Carlos headed downstairs. A few minutes later, he was back, with a perfectly brewed tea in one hand, and your book with the paracetamols balanced on top of it in the other.

"I didn't make it too hot so you can drink it straight away," he smiled, "Watch your eyes," he said, turning the lamp on as you screwed them shut. It took a second for them to adjust, but you were fine after a few seconds.

He handed you the mug and the white tablets, downing them in a second. "Thank you," you smiled, and you could still see the tiredness in his face. "Anything for you," he hummed, setting your book in your lap and sitting next to you.

You had nearly finished your tea, and it was already making you feel sleepy as the paracetamol seemed to be working on your headache, it turning from a pounding to a soft thumping instead. As if on cue, you and Carlos yawned in unison.

"I think we should probably try sleeping now, yeah?" you asked, shimmying back down under the covers and putting your book aside. You wouldn't need it after all. "Yeah, yeah, c'mere," he smiled, switching the lamp back off and shuffling into you. He pulled you against him, his chin resting atop your head as his hand lazily trailed across your stomach.

Even now, it was a strange sensation that he relished. Knowing that your baby was just beneath his fingertips, only separated by a few centimetres, made his heart sing with glee. It made him look forward to the impending day that they would arrive even more, and he couldn't wait to hold them and give them the best life possible.

He knew the two of you would be brilliant, loving parents to your child, no matter what. He also knew there'd be hard times, but you'd get through it together. Just like you always did.

"Goodnight, darling," you sleepily whispered, tangling his legs with yours.

"Goodnight, baby," he mumbled into your hair, trying to force himself to keep his eyes open. Unless you were asleep, he wasn't allowed to. Thankfully, he waited for around ten minutes and he was confident you were fast asleep, and nothing could harm you.

Not while his two favourite people in the whole world were at home, in his arms where he could keep you safe until the end of time. That was how it would always be, for forever and longer if the world would let him.

--

God you were tired. Well, you had every right to be. No more than an hour ago, you and Carlos had welcomed your newest family member into the world. You nearly refused to sleep so you could watch over her, but your body wouldn't let you stay awake.

"Baby, please sleep. I'll watch her, she'll be fine," Carlos had told you, even though his body was also desperate for rest after being there through every second of the 9 hour labour process. He didn't care about himself though, he could stay up for hours to make sure you got the rest you needed.

You were exhausted, and deservedly so, and he would happily wait up for longer to give you the time. Also, he couldn't take his eyes off of your sleeping daughter. She was absolutely perfect in every way, and she was currently sleeping in the corner as he watched her.

You were sleeping lightly, your parental instincts keeping you on edge, ready to strike into action at the drop of a hat. The silence was nice, as well as the lack of pain. It was like your body was floating you felt so peaceful, yet alert. Carlos was holding your hand, his habit of running his thumb up and down not being broken just yet.

His eyes were pinned on her, monitoring her every breath, searching for any tiny abnormality. She was his responsibility, and he was not going to let a single thing happen to her. He had only held her once so far, and he was so desperate to hold her again, but he couldn't wake her.

He wasn't even able to hold you right now, so his arms felt cold and empty. Every now and then, he would check the digital clock on the bedside table on the other side of you, just to see how much time had passed by.

He lost track after a while, and your girl woke up, the small beginnings of a cry escaping her lips. "Hey, hey, cariño," he said, approaching her and picking her up. One hand was under her head, the other one under her back as he handled her like she could shatter at any given time.

He held her against his chest, lightly bouncing her from side to side. His every touch was as delicate as a feather, not wanting to harm her in any way.  "You're OK, Daddy's here," he soothed, rubbing her back. She was slowly getting louder, but he didn't want to wake you up.

"Shh, don't cry, you don't want to wake Mommy, she's tired," he said as if she could understand him. It was almost as if she had, however, because her cries quietened and stopped as she fell silent against Carlos' chest. 

"Thank you, cariño," he smiled, planting a kiss atop the soft skin of her head, "Now let's sit down and wait for Momma to wake up," he told her, refusing to put her back down in her cot. He wanted to keep her tucked against his chest, where she was safe. 

She was so tiny against him, her back barely the size of the span of his hand. It felt so weird to have such a high amount of love for such a tiny someone, but she was just too perfect not to adore with every fibre that he had in his being. 

"While we have some Daddy-daughter time, there are a couple of things I want to say to you," he started, looking over at you to see if you had woken up. Your eyes were still closed, and your position hadn't shifted, so he assumed you were still asleep.

"For starters, you have no idea how excited I am to finally be able to meet you and hold you. I guess you'll only really know if you have your own kids. But I don't want you thinking about that yet, you're not allowed a boyfriend or girlfriend or whatever whoever you like until you're at least twenty-one, and I'm serious about that,"

"Next up, you're going to have to work with me here, I am going to teach you Spanish so we can gossip and your Mom won't know what we're saying, since she failed miserably when I taught her Spanish. No sabía escuchar y siempre estaba distraída," (she was not a good listener and always got distracted)

You didn't have a clue what he had said to her, and you didn't like the sound of not being able to understand what they could be saying. But, you had to bite back a giggle at his comment about no romance until she was twenty-one.

"Finally, since I'm sure you're already getting bored of me talking at you, but get used to it, I promise I will love you no matter what, until the day I die. I will protect you and keep you safe, no matter how old and frail I might become,"

"I also hope you know just how lucky you are to have the best mother in the whole entire universe. I might not always be with you, since I'll be racing, but she will be. You will grow up with the best role-model you could ask for, and I know you'll be a fantastic person too. I love you, cariño,"

"Thanks for making me cry, Carlos, I appreciate it," you spoke up, wiping the tears from your eyes. You loved what he had said, and your hormones were still all over the place. "You weren't supposed to hear that," he chuckled, shifting in his seat to face you more.

"You can try and teach me Spanish again, I don't want to be left out," you smiled, looking at the perfect picture that was set out in front of you. "Sure, we can try that again," he nodded.

"Can I have her?" you asked, holding your arms out for him to put your precious girl into. Carlos just smirked and shook his head, "No, she's mine," 

"Please?" you pouted, leaning forward to try and take her away from him. You just wanted to hold your daughter, it really wasn't a big ask. "OK, baby, OK," he triedly smiled, placing her in your arms. "But move up, I want to sit with you," he said.

You made sure she was comfortable, and scooted to the side so he could sit on your hospital bed with the two of you. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder, not able to stop his fingers from brushing against her. 

Carlos was finally able to close his eyes and let his guard down. He was finally able to rest for a bit. Not for too long, but for a bit. "Hey darling, before you sleep, we're sticking with the name we chose, right?" you asked.

"I think it suits her," he sleepily nodded against your shoulder. You agreed, and left him to get some well-deserved rest. He had been there through every torturous second, sat through all the abuse you had hurled at him, and stuck through his hand getting crushed or his shoulder being punched. 

And he'd do it all over again. He'd do it all for his girls, he'd do anything.

--

"She's normally very talkative, but she's just pretending to be shy," you laughed with Toto as Harper giggled and buried her head in your neck. She was always the center of attention at every race, and she had grown to know a lot of people.

Toto received a text, and had to dash off. You thought it would be best to head back to the garage anyway, so you set off across the paddock. A couple of people were having interviews, and she waved at her favourites as you passed by.

She waved at a certain curly haired boy, and his eyes lit up at the sight of her. Sure, he was in an interview, but he just said, "Sorry, I have to go," and dashed over to the pair of you. 

"Well if it isn't my favourite little lady!" Lando exclaimed, plucking her out of your arms as she willingly let him take her. "Muppet!" was all Harper she said, since it was her way of greeting him since she had heard Carlos say it a few times. 

"Now what is this?" he asked, poking her in the stomach and making her giggle uncontrollably. "Your Daddy might race for Ferrari, but your favourite uncle Lando doesn't. This should be papaya, not red," he playfully scolded, tickling her even more. 

Her laughter was contagious, and you could see other drivers and personnel around smiling at her.  The cameras clicked as the press took some photos, and you could tell she was loving the attention.

"I also wear red, therefore she is in the perfect colour," Charles said, popping up beside you. "Carlos is just finishing up an interview, he'll be out in a few," Charles told you, as Harper held her arms out to him and did the grabby hands. 

"I have been replaced, my heart is hurting," Lando said with feigned sadness as he clutched at his heart. Thankfully, Harper was used to being passed around from person to person often, so she didn't much mind. 

"Think how I feel, she's always leaving me for one of you," you laughed, nudging him in the ribs. "You do make a good point, but you're not her favourite uncle," Lando said, folding his arms and he swayed from side to side.

"No, you're not, I am," Charles said, bouncing around with Harper on his hip as she continued to giggle at him. "We're not starting this now," you sighed, not wanting to hear the favourite uncle argument again. 

But before they could answer, Harper was on her feet, running away from Charles. Tag was their favourite game, and he could never say no to her when she asked to play. Well, he never said no to her in regards to anything, but tag was the most important. 

"Charles, be careful!" you called, not able to not worry about her running around a very crowded place. "I know!" he called back, slowly jogging to try and catch up to Harper.

"Don't worry Y/N, I'll keep an eye on them," Lando grinned, and you could see he was itching to get involved in the game. At this point, Harper was chasing Charles as fast as her little legs could carry her, but Charles was barely even walking away from her.

But, Harper saw opportunity strike when she saw Lando next to her. She hit him in the leg with a squealed, "Tag!" before turning and running away. 

"Harps, you're just too fast!" Lando laughed, trying to chase her. His sights turned on Charles, however, who was cowering away from him. As Lando set off on the hunt for Charles, Harper laughed and clapped her little hands, "Run, Charlie, run!" she shouted as Lando grappled Charles and tagged him. 

Harper started to run away again, when an arm slithered around your waist. "I have to be in an interview while you guys are all out here having fun, so unfair," Carlos smiled, pulling you into his side as he kissed you on the head.

He was so glad that his best friends were so good with his daughter, and she loved them just as much as they loved her. "I know, it's just so unfair," you laughed, smiling at him as he watched Harper, his eyes full of love and wonder.

The two of you chuckled as Charles caught Harper, picking her up as he tickled her. She squirmed in his arms, fits of giggles sounding out around the paddock. "Stop it!" she laughed, hitting him in the chest. 

"Oh hey Carlos," Lando said, breathlessly coming and standing next to you. At the mention of her Dad's name, Harper's attention turned from Charles to Carlos. "Papa!" she exclaimed, wriggling out of Charles' arms and running over to Carlos.  

She leapt into his arms as he picked her up and spun her around. "Hola, cariño, ¿qué tal?" he asked, holding her on his hip as she squished his cheeks. "Estoy bien, ¿y tú?" she smugly grinned, loving that she could show off the Spanish Carlos had been teaching her. 

"Yo también," he proudly smiled, "Eres muy inteligente, ¿lo sabías?" he said, and your understanding of his words stopped right there. "Yo no comprende," she looked at him, confusion written all over her face.

"All I said was that you're my clever girl, sweetheart," he smiled kissing her on the cheek. She let out a giggle of happiness, her smile lighting up Carlos' face. You could watch them together all day, and it was your favourite form of entertainment. 

He kissed her on the other cheek, and she scrunched her nose up. Carlos started kissing her all over her face, as she squealed and squirmed. "Daddy, stop it! That tickles!" she laughed, trying to push his head away from her.

"Does it? I hadn't noticed," he chuckled as he carried on. But he eventually stopped, leaving her breathless from laughing. Harper rested her head on Carlos' shoulder as you, Charles, Lando and him stood and talked. 

You noticed she hadn't said anything in a while, so you stepped to stand behind Carlos. "Harper? Sweetheart? Are you tired?" You asked, her eyes looking droopy as you brushed a lock of her dark hair out of her face. It was nearly as dark as Carlos'. 

"Mhm," she nodded, her face squished against Carlos' shoulder. 

"OK, do you want to go for a nap?" you asked, gently massaging her scalp. 

"Yeah," she yawned, all of that running around with Charles and Lando clearly making her tired. "Come on then," you said, she flopped out of Carlos' arms and into yours. She buried her head in the crook of your neck, her breath soft on your skin. 

"I'm going to her to your room, I'll see you guys in a bit," you said, rubbing your hand over Harper's back soothingly. "Yeah, that's fine, is she OK?" Carlos asked, instantly thinking she had fallen ill or something, "Estoy cansada, Papa," she mumbled, lifting her head to look at her Dad.

"OK, I'll see you later," he nodded, kissing Harper on the head and tugging you close to him for a kiss. "See you later, Harps, say bye to Muppet and Charlie," you told her. She smiled at the two drivers, waving them goodbye.

"Bye," she sleepily chuckled, and Charles took her hand and kissed the back of it as he smiled at her. "Sleep well, Harper," he said, and she always giggled at the charm of Charles. 

"I'll beat you in tag next time, little lady," Lando smiled, fist bumping her before you walked away. You took her all the way over to the Ferrari motorhome, and into Carlos' drivers room. It was quiet in there, and the couch was comfortable enough.

"Do you want to sleep on the couch?" you quietly asked Harper as she looked up at you with those big brown eyes that were identical to Carlos', and you could see the tiredness in them. "No, I want to sit with you," she mumbled, shifting around until she was happy in your lap. 

"OK, sleep well, sweetheart," you said, planting an affectionate kiss on her head. For a while, you just sat there, Harper soundly sleeping on you. You looked at the table opposite you, and all of the pictures on there brought back the best memories in your life.

One of them was the day Harper was born, and you were sat in the hospital, sleeping with her on your chest. Another was of the three of you on a carousel when you went to a carnival the previous year. You took the picture, and Harper was smiling while sat on Carlos' knee as the horse flew up and down. 

The final one was just of you, and you remembered it was from on of your first dates with Carlos. He had offered to take a picture of you with the full moon behind you, and it instantly became his favourite photo. 

The door to the room opened, and you were initially alarmed. You were afraid that the person thought Carlos was in there and were going to wake up Harper by accident. "Hey, baby," he quietly said, slowly closing the door behind him. 

"Hi, darling," you smiled as he came to sit beside you. 

"How long has she been asleep for?" He asked, his hand moving to the back of your head and gently playing with your hair. You pushed your head into his hand, the feeling sending warm tingles through your brain. 

"Half an hour, she was asleep as soon as we sat down," you told him, slotting yourself into his side like a puzzle piece. "Do you want me to take her? Your legs are probably getting numb," he said, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pressing a kiss into your hair. 

"I'm alright, I don't want to wake her," you told him, leaning your head onto his shoulder. 

"OK, but let me know if you want me to take her," he told you, resting his head atop yours. You closed your eyes for a moment, just feeling a little sleepy. But you had what you wanted, and all you needed in your life.

Carlos looked down at his girls, both sleeping and safe with him. You had given him everything he wanted in his life, and he would never be more grateful for that. The two of you were the picture of perfection, and neither of you would have it any other way. 

A/N - This has been a long time coming, but it's here! Rest assured, all requests are being worked on! Also, I know I always give them daughters, but they're all girl dads to me, y'know? Feel free to submit any requests, I love to write them! Hope you enjoyed 💖

|masterlist|

[malleusthehammer]

Helloooo (●’◡’●)ﾉ could I please request Buddha, Adam, Sasaki and Leonidas with a preteen reader (12 years old) that likes to prank the gods all the time? Like putting a whoopee cushion under Shivas or Thor seats, drawing on anyone's face if they even think about taking a nap when reader is around, only small things that can't really hurt people, and no one can stop them because reader can just teleport away or make a clone of themselves, they prank everyone but them (the characters I requested) and when they're asked why reader just says “their likeable enough” I feel like this would be so chaotic and in a way wholesome 😭

YES OM GI I LOVE THIS IUDE S< ITS SO CUTRE!!! Also i am SO SO SO sorry for the wait!! Also its platonic considering that the reader is 12 years old so-

Pranking with Buddha, Adam, Sasaki, and Leonidas! Warnings: Yelling? Type: Headcanons and drabble!

🍬 Buddha

Dude he LOVES pranking with you!!

I mean, how could he not?

He does blow your cover a LOT because of his loud laugh

He usually takes the heat from the other gods that are being pranked because hes just like that

He thinks its so cool that you can just make a clone of yourself!

You were sneaky, sneaky enough to get past all of Shivas wives that is. When you passed by them on occasion, they treated you like a child of their own. Showering you in gifts and hugs! But- that was besides the point, yes? Buddha had finally convinced you to do that shaving cream prank on the god of destruction. So, you both snuck into the gods room, silent as a mouse. Buddha promised you a handful of candy from his stash if you pulled this off. you knew this was going to be easy-peasy! Maybe so easy and flawless youd get two handfuls of candy!

You silently -or rather, as best you could- sprayed the shaving cream in Shivas hands. His sleeping positions were erratic, so you made sure to cover all four hands in the cream before pulling out the feather you had. Your devious acts had led up to Munin loosing one of his tail feathers, you kept it. Almost like a trophy. You handed the feather to Buddha, who looked like he was about to explode with laughter any moment. Somehow, he kept his cool, tickling Shivas nose with the feather.

The 4-armed god stirred, to then slam a handful of shaving cream in his face. He was quick to wake up, trying to look around, omly to get more shaving cream everywhere.

"GODDAMNIT [Y/N]!!"

His voice rumbled in the room, his arm lunging towards you. You knew this would happen, so you were quick to make a clone to stand. Once Shivas palm hit the clone, it puffed into dust. This caused the God to get even madder. But what made it all worse was Buddha dying of laughter in the corner.

🍎 Adam

At first hes like "How do you find this hilarious?!?"

But then, you pranked Zeus..

and this opened his eyes for REAL

You had tried your best to come up with a prank for the old god Zeus, but nothing would stir in your mind. Eventually, you fell back to your roots of scaring. You hid behind the door of the Gods lounge, knowing the old man would be coming in soon. Once you had heard his distinguishing laugh, your plan was set into motion. You waited till just the right moment to pop out from behind the door. Unfortunately, you weren't far enough away from the door.

Zeus reacted by swinging his arms out in defense, causing the door to slam right back into you. The knob of the door went straight into your stomach, causing you to hit your head hard against the marble wall. You quickly fell to your knees in pain, hearing the old man guffaw and laugh about how you shouldn't scare him like that. You had learned your lesson, not to return to your roots.

You shamefully walked down the grand halls of Valhalla, coming to the garden. Adam saw you, hurrying over to see what was wrong. He was quick to help you, laying you down in the grass as he held an icepack to your head. You both laughed about what happened til Adam broke the silence.

"Little one- why dont you pull pranks like that on me? You do it on all the others.. Are you plotting a big prank on me?"

You giggled and shook your head, explaining how he was like a dad to you. And of course, who would prank their dad?

⚔️Sasaki Kojiro

He's never there to watch you prank but he loves hearing you tell the stories afterwards

You had managed to prank Aphrodite with a couple fake spiders, causing her to scream and sling her food off the table. Her hench men tried to calm her down by showing her that they were face spiders. But that only made it worse. She was running from them, hiding in her own room. You had watched this entirely, trying so hard not to laugh your ass off. After everyone calmed down, you were quick to go find Sasaki.

He was were he usually was, against the fountain in Valhalla's garden. You were quick to run up to him, sitting right down next to him. You both laughed and talked as you blabbered on about your prank. He started busting out laughing when you even reenacted how Aphrodite reacted! After you both calmed down from your laughing fits, you sat back down next to him on the edge of the fountain. Sasaki knew how much you loved pulling pranks on the others in Valhalla. Sometimes even more that Loki himself! Sasaki couldn't help but ask why you didn't pull pranks on him.

"Ahaha- ah.. Now, this makes me wanna ask ya.. Why don't cha pull pranks on me?''

You sat there for a moment. Why didn't you? Well of course you wouldn't pull a prank on someone you care about so dearly! Sasaki was shocked by your answer at first, but was so happy you cared so deary about him!

🛡️ Leonidas

He usually takes the downfall for your pranks because :3

helps you get the supplies and everything!!

lets you hide behind him bc he lowkey scary

Unlike the others, he is always backing you up on the pranks. He's always encouraging you. He's gonna have you writing prank ideas down on a notepad he comes up with ideas so quick. Today, you and him were walking down the halls of Valhalla. He held his cigar between his two fingers as he talked on and on about some pranks he pulled in his younger years. You followed behind closely, furiously writing the ideas down on your notepad. Leonidas chuckled as he saw you writing stuff down as you both walked. He huffed on his cigar for a moment before a thought popped up in his mind.

"Hey kid, why don't cha pull pranks on this old man?"

He smiled and pointed to himself with his thumb. He raised a brow at you for a moment, waiting for your reply.

You sat there, dumbfounded. You really hadn't thought about it.

"I guess- cuz your like the prank master! Like my mentor!"

Leonidas' eyes widened for a second as he thought about what you said. His smile grew as he wrapped his large arm around you. He laughed as he ruffled your hand with his large hand.

"Ahaha! I knew you looked up to me, but not that much! Thank ya, kid!"

YOOOOO HGHJUYGBHJ DIES honestly this was my first time writing for Leonidas and i LOVE HIM SM hes so silly!! also i kinda got carried away with Buddhas so i hope you forgive me for that. BUt i truly hope you enjoyed it!! alsi my asks are open!!

[atopvisenyashill]

@daenerysstormreborn Not to randomly jump on every Jonerys post but as a mostly former Jonerys enjoyer it also was appealing to Dany fans because he simply existed as a decent and narratively important guy around her age and the show fueled it so much. Genuinely I do not think the ship would be particularly popular if not for the show because they literally have not met. You can find so many “foreshadowing” posts for jonerys but I don’t think many people would consider it romantic foreshadowing if not for the show. “Bride of fire means she’ll marry Jon” NO!! She became the bride of fire when she stepped into the funeral pyre! That is stated in the text! She was just being addressed as bride of fire!! Chewing on drywall bc being a Dany fan is DIFFICULT

SEVERAL THINGS and i apologize for getting a bit wankified and long winded here, pls know i have nothing but respect and love for you as a fellow “dany is the anakin” truther, as my man turner would say it’s all peace and love.

i think you could say "it wouldn't be so popular without the show" for a lot of ships to be honest (people memory hole it but Braime was actually Not that popular before they met on the show & then it exploded. Greysnow was much more popular and then Throbb really exploded, so much so that people pretend like Throbb doesn’t have basis in canon lmao). I can say - and obviously this is just My Own Experience, filtered through the memories of a pothead like 12 years later lol - that they were THEE dominant couple when I first got into the series, which was right around the end of s2 airing. They were everywhere and it was considered a given, basically confirmed, that they would be together in the end, because “George is a romantic at heart” and it’s “sweet.” It was at the time the accepted theory, the only "valid" theory, and anything else got you shouted down.

So pervasive that I basically checked out of the fandom for several years because I found it so obnoxious. Like THATS the sweet ending everyone wants? A rushed romantic arc between two characters who don’t even know the other exists yet, in the LAST book? And all this after a) Dany burns KL - because don’t let the stans convince you otherwise, Dany accidentally burning KL was ALSO the dominant theory before s8! - and potentially the water gardens and b) Tyrion probably convinced her to burn Casterly Rock as well and perhaps even does it HIMSELF on Viserion and c) Jon does NOTHING for the entirety of TWOW except hang out in Ghost. I just couldn’t stand it, couldn’t stand the idea that all of this was leading to Jon, Dany, & Tyrion having a VERY typical sort of fantasy ending together as the three heads and dying ESPECIALLY when this was usually accompanied by “well sansa won’t be ruling stark in winterfell bc Reasons” and “bran is staying in the cave and won’t have any sort of effect on the war unless he wargs a dragon.”

I credit this meta as bringing me back into the fandom for a reason, and it’s the main reason i’m so shitty about people being so hostile to Jonsa - it was Thee first theory I read in this fandom that made me EXCITED for the ending, that made me hope we’d get something besides some avengers endgame esque all the good guys come together to take out the monstrous others who have no nuance whatsoever and exist to be fantasy genocided (even though that’s Literally what he’s critiquing!!!). crazy that people ANALYZING THE TEXT instead of giving into the power fantasy idea of Super Special Heroes Die To Save The World that took over the fandom and left room for no discussion, are the ones that are considered the "trouble makers" here!!!!

AND SINCE IM IN THE MOOD, let’s talk about the "definitive proof" that jon & dany will fall in love-

bride of fire - has to mean she is going to marry all three men in the visions and not that she literally married the fire, something she literally thinks to herself and also a comparison made about both Robb and Asha to hammer the point home And Yet.

"A blue flower grew from a chink in a wall of ice, and filled the air with sweetness" - has to mean Jon will be the "sweet" romance, completely ignoring how often this series uses "sweet smelling" to mask POISON as a metaphor!!

"Off in the distance, a wolf howled. The sound made her feel sad and lonely, but no less hungry." - has to mean she and jon are longing for each other never mind the sound makes her feel SAD and LONELY and HUNGRY

"The light of the half-moon turned Vals honey-blond hair a pale silver and left her cheeks as white as snow. She took a deep breath. The air tastes sweet." - again, the sweet smelling thing but also Val's hair turns not just silver but AUBURN.

"Sometimes she would close her eyes and dream of him, but it was never Jorah Mormont she dreamed of; her lover was always younger and more comely, though his face remained a shifting shadow." - this is basically the only one I think that has a point!!!! I still think however it's more likely pointing to Euron especially when she has a second dream about being penetrated by an ice cold prick.

she is fire and he is ice - i mean that's just wrong. jon on his own is both fire and ice, he is the song, but even ignoring that it's been stated that the others are ice and the dragons are fire, with no and i mean no implication that the dragons are somehow the heroes to the villainous others And Yet.

^^all of that was pervasive in the fandom zeitgeist long before that excruciating boat sex scene. i mean hell you can look at the meta i linked and see some pretty old replies condescendingly dogpilling on the mere concept of someone besides quentyn/yg being the sun's son and the mummer's dragon, respectively. this long ass post to say - Discourse On Dany Has Always Been This Dumb, Unfortunately. i suppose i get the feeling of like, wanting dany to have a normal romance but a) that's just not her story!!!!!! why are we looking at a doomed villain protagonist and begging for a romance to ~redeem her!!! and b) this is why i've made the stydia, karedevil, and adoribull comparisons. there's just nothing in their personalities that leads me to believe they would be happy together. people will talk about them being two crazy kids in love but like - when? why? jon pretty directly rejects multiple women who have Violent Tendencies like dany and dany very firmly rejects quentyn who is very jon like in being both mid looking and not particularly concerned with the iron throne so much as he is with how his father sees him. doesn't feel like an indicator that these two would ever get along!! it's all heterosexuality and empty aesthetics!!!

After the show, it got worse not only because of the stan wars but also because you had this idea that like, Dany & Jon dying for the Long Night wasn't a good enough ending, no Dany has to live and has to restore the dynasty, that's the only acceptable ending, anything else is unsatisfying misogynistic slavery apologism (🙄).

But the first part, the people who feel it's a given they're going to fall in love and die to save the world - those people absolutely still exist (and they are deeply obnoxious To Me). and what's crazy is it's not like they have any more evidence than they did before! they have less evidence now!!

[carboncat0]

i have some tf2 headcannons i’m dying to share or i’ll explode

it’s gonna be a long one guys buckle up

heavy wears reading glasses outside of battle, his age has slowly caught up to him

he has lots of bullet wounds on his body, after medic invented his medicgun, he offered heavy to fix his old wounds, heavy accepted

he suffers from very serious sleeping issues due to his time in the gulag, he struggles to sleep and often wakes up middle of the night with cold sweats, and his paranoia makes him refuses to take the sleeping pills medic gave him

solider also has a lot of old wounds, but refuses to let medic treat them, because he thinks wounds are badges of honor for being a solider

he follows an extreme military training routine everyday, so he is really fit for a man who’s diet being only fast food and sometimes beer

he has bad eyesight but doesn’t know it/thinks it’s a problem, refuses to wear glasses because it’s too “lady-like”

demoman surprisingly is a good cook because he needs to take care of himself at a young age, then later taking care of his blind mom

he is the definition of “jack of all trades,” from piano to handy work, he is the second most reliable person besides engie, if something broke in the base, demo will help engie fix it

he has no eyeball behind the eye patch, it’s an empty socket and he hates it, so he asks engie to make a model eyeball to shove in it

engie secretly is a control freak and has god complex, he hates things being out of his control, even if the stress of monitoring everything destroys him physically and/or mentally

besides that, he is a good person, he is kind to the others and has a soft spot for weird geniuses, e.g., pyro and medic

he’s eyes are sensitive to bright light since he started welding from a young age, so he always wear his goggles

scout has strong legs, because he runs, fast

he fidgets a lot, he couldn’t be still, always looking for something to do, it also makes him very jumpy

he hates people treating him like a child, which leads him to act even more like a child, however, he does like approval and attention, he’ll never admit to it

he couldnt handle well with compliments, but he likes it, especially from an older teammate

his got weak bones, his bone breaks easily, but it also means he is light, therefore double jump is possible for him

he also has freckles, because i said so

sniper is tanned and has tan lines due to his profession, he doesn’t have many other clothes and doesn’t change his outfit much, so most of people don’t know about it

he can fall asleep in a quick amount of time and wake up easily from any small noise, because of his unhealthy sleeping schedule, his resting heart rate is higher than usual

he is almost deaf on his right ear, he has a hearing aid but thinks it’s unnecessary, he sometimes wears it out of battle, spy knows about this and will purposefully approach him from his right side

his stitching from the revive surgery still leaks blood from time to time, for some reason it never heals properly

he is quite, doesn’t speak much and has very few body movements, too many people too close to him stresses him out, then he’ll start picking his skin

medic genuinely likes animal more than humans, he thinks replacing his teammates’ organs into animal ones is an upgrade for them

he made a fitness plan for everyone on the team, but no one wants to follow it aside from himself, he doesn’t care tho, he made it only because he’s tired of healing their regular injuries

he likes doing experiments on others but not on himself, he purposefully avoid modifying his own body besides the uber heart, he likes him being a mere mortal while defying god

pyro has a zipper on the bottom of their mask, even when they eat they don’t take off the mask, they just shove food through the zipper

no one has ever saw them naked, besides medic during the uber heart surgery, he only saw their chest area and nothing else, but he can confirm that they are human, and possibly a male

they are capable of choosing to do violence acts, but think what they’ve done when they thinks they are doing good thing, it’s better for everyone if they do not actively choose violence

they have a match and lighter fuel collection, no one knows how they get their hands on some of them extremely rare items

spy think of himself as the only sane and reasonable person on the team, for the most part, he’s right

blu spy has stitches on his neck, but red spy doesn’t, besides that they are pretty similar physically

he is surprisingly loyal in love, he can separate work and personal life pretty well

he has a secret workout routine and refuses to share with anyone, he takes pride in his appearance and well-shaped body

he doesn’t like direct confrontation, he prefers to stay in shadows, but it leads him to have poor communication skills and bad with expressing his feelings

i think that’s all, if any more comes up i’ll probably edit this post to make it longer

[white-collar-cannibal]

@glsneeg-enthusiast when i say unedited. well folks many of these sentences are completely unconnected from each other or unfinished. line break with ellipsis for different scenes, ellipses inline for same scene but cut up lines. anyway have a Snack i'm never ever finishing this (it straight up has no plot.)

The first time he met Frank, Sneeg was dying, which was terribly usual. Niki was dead already, having crawled over to lay her head on his lap, and bled out from the throat and the chest and the stomach until she was still. 

[...]

He scoffed a little, and laughed a little, and he said, with half of a smile in his voice, “God.” 

He probably was making an expression of some kind, but Sneeg could not summon the energy or the will to look away from the knuckle of his hand. His face was probably doing the thing where his eyes got too big and he looked very strongly and scarily at something, because he was thinking too much to remember the rules about eye contact and about not staring. It was becoming a problem lately. 

[...]

Everyone made a big deal of Frank having quite a lot of tattoos, but Sneeg very rarely saw them at all. It had only really been one time. [...] It was a bit hard to tell, since it was said mostly for the enjoyment of saying it and not for other people to hear, but he thought it started out, “Motherfucking goddamn piece of shit capitalists can’t pay for air conditioning nasty bastards weren’t making enough already not paying their goddamn workers I swear,” 

With the jacket off, Sneeg could see that each of his arms were marked over with drawings which ran the gamut from crude drawings of various small animals and sigils and skulls, the lines bleeding out into the surrounding skin in inky aurora, to the fine scales of what seemed a very well done snake, which wrapped the circumference of a heavy arm before disappearing up the sleeve of the shirt.

Sneeg looked away a bit quickly — the back of his neck felt hot and red and embarrassed — but then Niki was looking at *him*, first with no expression at all, then at seeing him returning eye contact, she pinched her lips together slightly, and raised both eyebrows together in a movement that could have been categorized on the scale of glaciers. Her eyes, nearly gray as slate rock in the corridor dimness, were rimed with humor. Sneeg tried to pinch his eyebrows together in the same kind of miniature, dollhouse expression, to say *What? Huh?*, but all Niki did in return was a kind of U-turn of the eyebrows, up and down, back into her resting *a bit pissed off* aspect, and opened her hand outwards so that Sneeg could see the inside of her palm, then closed it again. 

From beside them, a thick voice said, “If you two have developed telepathy without me, I’m going to be so pissed.” The two withered slightly, like they had been caught eating worms or something equally difficult to explain, at the reminder that Frank was, in fact, still in the room with them. 

Niki blinked once. “Too late. We’ve already synched our mental illness frequencies.” Then she added, “*And* our cycles.”

Frank gave her a perfect jigsaw-puzzle smile, and went back to tying the jacket about his waist, which was good since Sneeg felt he might simply explode if anyone else acknowledged that he existed at the moment.

[...]

They sat in triangles, but when they walked Sneeg and Niki would stand on either side of Frank, which was half borne from respect and half to make sure that someone could always help him if his bad leg acted up again. He was always the center of both their orbits, because he was the only one who remembered anything.

Frank remembered because Austin remembered, and they had been Taken at the same time. Niki and Ethan remembered very little, and Sneeg and Charlie remembered nothing at all. He tried to hide this at first, but there was only so far you could really get with knowing when to nod your head, and when to go *mhmm* and *wow* conversationally before people started to notice that you did not know at all what they were talking about.

[...]

Niki liked *right hand* and *second-in-command* much more than she had liked *pumpkin*, but she still tolerated *string cheese* most days. When she was doing very badly, she would sit next to Frank, and lean her head on his shoulder, and he would put his arm around her, or in her hair, and go, *Aww, Kalashnikova, grenade, my favorite landmine, you’re okay* and she would feel better, even if it embarrassed her a bit afterwards. 

Sneeg loved *pumpkin* very much, and he extended the same affection to each and every other term his friends deigned upon him — even the ones in different languages, because he could trust that they meant something good and nice, and that was such a great relief.

Niki only ever called the two of them their names, or *boss*, which Frank had resented at first, but she said “If everyone calls everyone else boss, then it’s good and communist again,” and he relented. Sneeg had not processed enough about communism to argue, even though her maths didn’t seem to add up.

Frank talked a lot about communism, and Niki listened intently, but unless he was willing to sit down and really think about it, and interrupt way too often by asking about what *capital* was again, or *landlord*, or *materialism,* all Sneeg really got out of it was to hear the sound of Frank’s voice. It was a good voice though, which sounded a bit like he had eaten gravel, which was from the smoking, and forgot often that there were R’s in words, which was from the being raised in New York, so it was not a bad deal at all. 

All of Frank’s characters smoked, because Showfall thought it looked cool, so he did too. He’d toughed it out for two entire months, but they were still making him on set, so he couldn’t actually quit and then he got a migraine so bad he was worried he was going to go blind, and gave up.

“It’s not like they’re gonna let me get *lung cancer,*” he said, “I’m an *asset.*” He only did it once or twice a day, unless something exceptionally bad had happened, and Niki always took the opportunity to step away for five minutes, because the smell was intolerable to her, and look over her map, or lay on the ground like a starfish, and do her breathing exercises. She came up with long, prime number in-hold-out-hold sequences, because she had to be thinking about something at all times or she’d lose it. She said there was never any empty space in her mind, and if she didn’t fill it with something, the horrors would start crawling out of the little boxes she’d put them in.

Neither of them ever touched Niki without her asking anymore, since Frank had tapped her on the shoulder in passing and she worked herself up into such a fit that she spat up blood. 

Niki knew perfectly how to ask, though. She would tilt her head, very lightly, so the long strands of her uncut hair — often brown, sometimes blonde, rarely another color — would fall over her face, and either of the two could see this, and know to take the side of her head in their hand and to kiss the edge where the hair began on the forehead. 

[...]

Sneeg knew which of the cameras worked, and which didn’t, and which you could pass by if you walked by them at a calm pace with your face turned away, and he knew when the break rooms were full, and when you could pass through certain alley-paths. He had spent his entire childhood learning this, and now it made up for the fact that he was dreadfully, interminably, fucking stupid.

Sneeg did not know most of what an adult person was supposed to, on account of the everything, and he hadn’t even known it until he had began talking to the two of them. 

[...]

Frank and Niki were both pretty, but in different ways, like how a pretty painting might look nothing like a pretty tea kettle. No one else thought so, but Sneeg knew Frank was pretty. Showfall didn’t think so, because they only ever made him a side character, and none of those side characters ever had anyone kiss them. Austin said that he looked like a mobster, and Charlie had said that Frank had the face of a bulldog that had been at the business end of a sledgehammer, and Niki only said that he had a face that was perfectly adequate since it did all the things it needed to, but she was secretly jealous of him. 

Sneeg had eyes that worked though, and Frank had a face that was very nice to look at, with a big, crooked nose, and a lot of thin lines around the eyes and the mouth, and very interesting teeth. Everyone else only ever had teeth like white plastic ice trays, but his seemed to be arguing with each other about which should be where, in a way that made you want to put your hand in his mouth to figure out exactly what was going on three-dimensionally. 

[...] Her face did not find itself naturally upset, which made her near-permanent furrowed brow and curled lip intentional, a prolonged muscle contraction in service of worry and fury and disgust.

Everyone knew Niki was pretty. She loathed it. She treated pretty like an unfortunate congenital condition she was afflicted with, and only ever talked about other people in flat, neutral terms, like an anatomist. This hatred was not entirely unjustified, because Showfall loved you more if they thought you were pretty, and they cast you as love interests and romcom protagonists.

[...]

She had, nearly instantly, been sick on the tile.

He put his hand out, flat, eye-level, and she bit into where the meat of his thumb met the meat of his palm so hard she drew blood. The metacarpal made a bad noise, and she shook her head, side to side, very quickly, with instinctual zeal, and then let go. 

“Why did you do that?” she had asked, after a moment, and “Why did it *work?*” [...] She was worrying at her arm, and said, “Just tell me if it gets worse. I can live with this, just tell me if it’s going to get worse.”

“It’s not going to get worse. You know how they are with this.”

“You promise? On your life, you promise?”

“On my life, I’ve never seen them do worse, on set or in any of the tapes.” It had made her feel a little bit better, but not much.

[...] , and all she would say was “It’s *my* skin. It’s *my *fucking* skin.*”

[...]

...and, graciously, Niki had said, “Oh God, what’s *butch* again? It’s fallen out of my brain completely,” which was the euphemism she preferred for it.

Frank said, “Masc. Masculine. Like a guy.” and that was such an idea that Niki lit up, immediately. 

[...]

He’d found her once sitting at the edge of an unused fountain, staring into the green and chemical water.

“I got startled the first time they put a mirror on set,” she said, in lieu of a conversation opener, “I couldn’t recognize that it was me.”

He did not know how to answer this, and so didn’t, and in the silence, she turned, and went “When you get out, are you going to try and find your family? Your old family?”

“It would be nicer, neater, I think, if they just thought I died. If I didn’t have to tell them what I’d actually become.”

“You think letting them believe their kid got abducted and murdered is the best idea?”

“Probably. I mean, it’s been years, they’ve gotta be at least a little adjusted to it. The dead kid’s a better story than the miserable adult.” and then, “And why’d you ask? You’ve been thinking about it?”

“Yeah, well.” “Your family has to get that you’re not the seven-year-old they lost, like, in the slightest. But I was like, a *person* when they took me, no offense, and they’ll want me to be that.”

“Sometimes, all I can muster is *I just want to die where they can’t find me*. But I don’t really want to *die*, you know? I just don’t think I know how to live.”

“You’ll figure it out.”

“I just. I just can’t see it. Me. Having a real, actual life.”

“Then take it on faith. In yourself. In your own continuity.” and then, “You really don’t have to have it yet. Lord knows I don’t— Nick, I don’t remember what the Sun looks like, I have zero clue what I’m going to do. But I’ll find out, you know? I trust my future.”

“Just like that? Has anything good *ever* happened in your life?”

Sneeg thought a bit. “I used to have a dad. That was good. And I met you two, didn’t I?”

[...]

Niki wanted to be his sister very badly, but Sneeg couldn’t do that to anyone else.

[...]

Frank had called him a masochist, and Sneeg had to ask what it meant.

“Somebody who likes getting hurt,” Frank said, and then, in the interest of diligence, “Sometimes it’s a sex thing.” 

If Showfall was prudish otherwise, they were down-right puritanical when it came to sex things, so they always had to specify, even though Sneeg could catch a crass joke with 80% accuracy now, and could make one that was legible if the opportunity presented itself. It had been very embarrassing for all of them at first, but just like every other thing he was supposed to know and didn’t, Frank and Niki had gotten used to explaining things in clear, unfazed terms, and to pretend like it was fine that he didn’t know.

This was probably the best blessing of the manifold blessings that Niki and Frank had granted him: the simple fact that they had gotten quickly over that he did not know shit about fuck, and they explained things to him like he was an equal, instead of a kicked dog following them around. 

[...]

“Written messages. Very good sign” he had said, at about the second or third note they found “Means they’re not having regular meetings. Or casual meetings.”

“Not *that* good.” Niki said, “The ones in the masks have always been the big issue. Doesn’t really matter whether the real ones are walking around.”

“Yeah, right, but it means they’re not *talking.* Less minor information getting through, more arguments. More confusion.”

[...]

“- and, well, Marx thought,” and Sneeg wanted to groan, because Marx never thought anything that did not require at least fifteen minutes of explanation to understand.

[sunshine-lilies]

Blonde Seungcheol as your Neighbor

𖠜 Pairing : Seungcheol x reader 𖠜 Genre : Fluff 𖠜 Word count : 824

SYNOPSIS

on the way home, you noticed a man with a blonde hair passed by the hallway of your apartment building. It was impossible not to notice when the hair color of their choice was really vibrant. You wondered if you had a new neighbor who just moved in and wanted to know which apartment he is but he unlocked the door just beside yours.

ᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒ

The day when you finally took your finals had you sleeping less than usual and the dark circles under your eyes were really defining your tired face. It was a surprise you could still function and aced the exam given that caffeine is the only thing circulating in your veins. Well... 5 cups of coffee isn't enough to replace your blood right? riiight?

Thankfully you only had two exams for today and you were totally free for the whole afternoon. Your last two braincells probably exploded after answering the tests and you badly needed rest. Your head feels lightheaded as you travel your way back home and it's scary to think that the ‘floating’ feeling you're having would get you to the point you're physically lifted off the ground and your actual body dropped on this very sidewalk, turning you into a ghost after not having enough sleep.

You shook your head from that imagination and decided to focus on pushing the button to your floor. The ride in this small compartment felt like a minute and you were dozing off while standing. You're definitely not going to reach your bed and would immediately drop on your front door just to sleep. That's how exhausted you were after studying like hell for the past weeks.

As you walked down the hallway, you spotted a man walking just not far from you. He had streaking blonde hair, pushed nicely through the back. You're not the one to check out people like this but you couldn't help it when this person is oozing with attractiveness. You could only see his back, what more if you saw his face too? Your hand immediately covered half of your face, cheeks burning from embarrassment when you caught yourself checking the guy out. Is this still the effect of your intense studying?

The guy seems unfamiliar to you. Probably a guest who happened to be here or a new neighbor in the area. You wonder what apartment he's in... Your eyebrows raised when he stopped at the door just next to yours, which gave you time and subtly watched his face. Before unlocking his door, he must've noticed you standing just beside him causing the guy to whip his head to the side and stare at your surprised face.

"Cheol?" You gasped, finally had the chance to look at the blonde man up close. You barely even recognize him! Seungcheol was your next door neighbor for 2 years now. He was a year older than you and was your senior in your university until he graduated leaving you behind. You admit that you were a little sad when he graduated because you thought he was going to move out after graduation but surprisingly he didn't. He continued living next to you for the past year since his job is near this area. You would definitely miss the weekly food exchange with him if he really moved out.

"Y/N..." He chuckled, hand brushing against his nape as he momentarily avoided your eyes. You swore you saw him blushing but maybe it's the caffeine playing with your system. You opened your mouth to say something but you were preoccupied in wandering your gaze all over him. "You dyed your hair?" You asked and finally turned your body towards him. "Yeah. Figured I need something for a change." Seungcheol answered.

You watched him in awe. His complex became lighter and with the color of his hair, it made his face more noticeable and defined his jaw somehow. "Oh, wow. It suits you."

The little spark of liking him ignited once again. You did have a little crush on him for the first few months of knowing each other but you knew you never stood any chance and brushed that feeling away, sweeping it under the rag. You figured that your small feelings might ruin the friendship you both are developing at that time.

He smiled sheepishly and chuckled afterwards, clearly embarrassed by the sudden compliment. "Thanks. Just trying to impress somebody and hoping that they'll ask me on a date." Cheol joked. You laughed and opened your door as both of you had a small conversation.

Clearly you should've dumped your feelings down the drain instead of hiding it for you found them again at this very moment, causing your stomach to feel a little ticklish. A thought popped into your mind when you heard his response and you're second guessing yourself if you're going to say it or not but seeing his cute smile and with a hazy brain, your lips chose to open.

"Well I'm actually impressed. Can I take you out for a date, then?" You asked which caused him to be startled. Seungcheol grinned, covered his face, and was stuttering to say something. You only chuckled at his reaction. "Good night, Cheol." You bid before closing the door behind you. Oh, you definitely need some sleep right now.

[roadkillremi]

OKAY, so about Stu killing Tatum,

(I just saw the post abt someone asking why he would and thought maybe I should explain why I think he killed her. Of course, I'm not saying I'm right or y'all are wrong this makes more sense to me now that I think about it.)

So in the movie, the rules have to be one of the most important things in the movie, it's why Sidney lives, why the boys don't succeed, why Randy lives, and why Tatum dies.

So Sidney being the final girl cancels out any chance of her dying, therefore the boys pretending to be the final girls cannot happen, you can't fake it, so them dying is reasonable according to movie rules. (They killers don't always die, but instead of them coming back from the dead, people think it'd be cool to continue the legacy kinda of giving them the "forever" killer rule.)

Now, Randy gets to live and what does he say? "I've never been so happy to be a virgin." NOW, before I didn't really think about that until recently, and holy shit, Randy was supposed to die, but he didn't because the teens who go out and have sex usually

(Why I'm saying usually is 'cause it really depends on the situation, like in the original prom night, I forget the names, both the girl who was gonna have sex with her boyfriend and the two who did have sex get killed off.)

Are the ones who get killed off. Tatum is not a virgin besides Stu, her boyfriend, until near the end of the movie Sidney and Billy. AND THAT IS WHY, THE WHOLE POINT, THE VIRGIN USUALLY SURVIVES!!! It's such a petty reason, but I get it now? Kinda? Of course, Stu and Billy, being a little into horror movies probably try to live by these rules by heart,

one problem,

they don't think the rules apply to them and they forget some rules don't apply to the final girl. Stu definitely liked Tatum but also he's kind of out there, he doesn't seem really committed unless it's with Billy/The Plan or if he's around his friends. Of course, I never noticed the scene where he's him flirting with another girl before, but that's a good eye, and honestly, I feel like that would be to keep up with the act of "Yeah, I DUMP Casey, I'm so cool dude." Blah, blah, blah, and I think he likes Tatum 'cause honestly, Tatum reminds me of Billy if he was more sane and y'know a girl

(Sorry for dumping this on you, but once I thought it about, it clicked and I needed to explode about it. I was gonna do this ANON bc I was kinda scared I came off too pushy, but this is just what I think and I wanna know what other people think about this topic as well. Thanks)

This is not pushy at all, I love hearing about different perspectives and such.

I do agree with you. For example in the movie, Cabin in the Woods they explain the roles in friend groups.

The virgin, the jock, the geek, the whore, and the scholar.

Randy was the geek, Sydney was the virgin, and Tatum was the whore. Even the Actress who played her claimed she knew her character was made to die. I do agree that they also were like, "Yeah she's not our final girl".

In the end I don't think Stu was a good boyfriend.

[starberryshuu]

What is Luca Trying to do?

Valorant Protocol HQ – The Firing Range

Yoru didn’t stop walking until he reached the training hall, where he immediately grabbed a gun and started shooting.

His bullets were precise, each shot snapping through the air with more aggression than usual.

He was pissed.

Not because of Luca. No, no. He didn’t care about Luca. Not at all.

It wasn’t like he had spent months enjoying the fact that Julie was oblivious to all the guys around her. Wasn’t like he liked that she ran away from him, only for him to chase after her like an idiot. Wasn’t like he—

Ding.

A bullet barely missed the center of the target.

Yoru cursed under his breath.

He hated this.

He hated the way his brain kept replaying Iso’s words. Julie’s panicking because she described Luca as her type before she even met him.

Of course she had a type. Of course it was that bastard.

He was everything she said she liked—tall, stupidly pretty, annoying, and worse, he knew it. He had no shame in chasing after her.

Yoru scowled and reloaded. Tch. Let her do whatever she wanted. It wasn’t like he cared.

...Except he did.

And that pissed him off even more.

Valorant Protocol HQ – The Lounge

Meanwhile, Julie was suffering.

Luca had returned, all smiles and zero shame, plopping himself onto the couch beside her like they were best friends.

"Relax, bella," he said smoothly, stretching his arm over the backrest, dangerously close to her shoulder. "You look like a cornered rabbit."

Julie was a cornered rabbit.

She didn’t do this. She didn’t do people who actively flirted. She did shy, slow-burn, oh-are-we-flirting? type of things. Not this.

"You’re very jumpy," Luca mused, watching her literally curl into herself.

"I—uh—" Julie stammered, gripping her sweater sleeves.

"She’s always like that," Iso cut in from across the table, sipping his tea, looking extremely entertained. "Shy thing. You’ll scare her off if you keep that up."

Luca raised a brow. "Ah? But I like a challenge."

Julie made a sound between a squeak and a dying cat.

From the corner of the room, another presence had been silently observing.

Chamber, seated with one leg crossed over the other, polished a bullet between his fingers and smiled.

It wasn’t a nice smile.

"Oh?" he mused, gaze flicking to Julie, who was currently stuck between wanting to run away and not wanting to be rude.

"Do tell, mon ami," Chamber continued, voice silky. "What exactly is so challenging about her?"

Luca grinned. "She’s cute."

Julie choked on air.

Chamber’s smile did not falter. But his fingers tightened ever so slightly around the bullet.

Iso smirked into his cup. Yoru was going to explode when he heard this.

Valorant Protocol HQ – The Lounge

Julie was frozen.

Absolutely frozen.

Did he just—Did Luca just—

Say that out loud?

Right in front of Chamber? And Iso? And basically everyone in the lounge?!

Her brain short-circuited. Her hands clutched the sleeves of her sweater tighter.

"C-Cute?!" she squeaked, voice about three octaves higher than usual.

Luca grinned, completely unbothered. "Yes, bella," he confirmed, like it was the most natural thing in the world. "Very cute."

Julie felt like imploding.

Iso, still sipping his tea, was now openly smirking. This was fun.

Meanwhile, Chamber… Chamber was watching Luca like he was a very interesting puzzle piece.

"I must say," Chamber hummed, adjusting his cufflinks, "your directness is… bold."

Luca just shrugged, flashing his signature charming grin. "Why waste time?" He turned back to Julie. "No one’s ever told you that before?"

Julie wanted to say yes. That yes, people had technically called her cute before. But never so bluntly. Never so… intensely.

And certainly not while leaning this close, with an arm casually draped over the back of the couch.

She needed an escape.

She looked to Iso. Help.

But Iso just raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the spectacle.

She looked at Chamber. Help?

Chamber only smiled. "Désolé, ma chérie, but I am also curious how you will respond to such a… confession."

Julie nearly died on the spot.

She was about to start considering the pros and cons of just jumping out a window when—

BANG.

A door slammed open from across the room.

All heads turned.

Yoru stood at the entrance, scowling.

His sharp blue eyes locked onto the scene before him. Luca—too close. Julie—too flustered. Chamber—too amused. Iso—too entertained.

His glare sharpened.

Luca, sensing the shift in atmosphere, looked up and smirked. "Ah," he greeted, completely unfazed. "The lone wolf joins us."

Yoru ignored him. His eyes were only on Julie.

And Julie, still looking like a terrified hamster, immediately went rigid.

She knew that look.

That was his I’m about to cause problems face.

Her stomach dropped.

Before she could stop him, Yoru stalked over.

And then, to everyone’s shock—

He grabbed her wrist.

"Oi," he grumbled, voice low. "We’re leaving."

Julie blinked. "Wha—?!"

"Now."

She barely had time to register what was happening before she was being dragged away, stumbling after him.

Luca raised a brow, watching them go. Then, he turned to Chamber and Iso.

"...Did I touch a nerve?"

Iso chuckled. "Oh, definitely."

Chamber simply smiled, tossing the bullet between his fingers. "Très intéressant…"

Valorant Protocol HQ – Hallway

Julie was still trying to process what just happened.

Yoru was dragging her.

Like. Literally dragging her down the hallway.

Not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough that she couldn’t just wiggle free.

"W-Wait!" she stammered, trying to keep up. "What—Where—Why—"

Yoru stopped.

Julie nearly crashed into him.

He turned around, scowling hard.

"What the hell was that?" he snapped.

Julie blinked. "Huh?"

"*Back there.**" His eyes narrowed. "With Luca."

Julie blinked again.

"…What about it?"

His eye twitched. "You—you just let him say all that?!"

"Say… what?"

"Cute? Calling you bella like you’re some romance novel character? Being all over you like—like—*" Yoru’s hands clenched. "Like that."

Julie fidgeted, confused. "I mean… isn’t it just… cultural?"

Yoru stared.

"…Cultural?"

She nodded. "Italians are just… like that?*"

Yoru’s scowl deepened. "No, they’re not."

"But—"

"No."

Julie shrank under his glare. "I-It’s not like I encouraged him or anything…"

"You didn’t stop him either."

Julie went silent.

Yoru exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "Tch." He turned away, muttering. "Stupid girl…"

Julie pouted. "I heard that."

"*Good.**" He side-eyed her. "You need to hear it."

She huffed. "You’re overreacting."

"Am I?" He scoffed. "Tch. That guy… thinks he can just—"

He cut himself off, jaw tightening.

Julie frowned. "Why do you care?"

Yoru stiffened.

For a split second, something flashed in his expression.

Then, he looked away. "*I don’t.**"

Julie squinted. "Then why are you—"

"Shut up."

"Wha—Hey!"

Yoru ripped open the nearest supply closet, pulled Julie inside, and shut the door.

Darkness.

Silence.

Julie’s brain crashed.

"…Are we in a closet?" she whispered.

"Tch. Obviously."

"Why?"

"Because."

"Because what?"

He was silent for a moment.

Then, in a lower voice—

"Because I don’t want to see him flirting with you anymore."

Julie’s breath caught.

Her heart did a weird, stupid thing.

"…Why?" she asked, barely audible.

Yoru didn’t answer immediately.

Then, just as softly—

"You really are stupid, huh?"

Julie blinked.

And blushed.

Valorant Protocol HQ – The Closet of Bad Decisions

Julie could feel how small the space was.

Could feel Yoru standing too close, his breath just barely ghosting against her forehead in the dark.

Her brain was buffering.

"You really are stupid, huh?" he had just said.

She heard it.

She just… didn’t understand it.

"What does that mean?" she whispered.

Yoru exhaled sharply, frustrated. "Forget it."

Julie frowned. "You’re the one who dragged me in here!"

"And I regret it already."

"Then why did you—"

"Tch."

Julie yelped as he suddenly moved.

She felt his arm brush past her, reaching for the door handle.

For a split second, she thought he was going to just leave her there—

Then.

"Locked."

Silence.

More silence.

Julie blinked. "…What?"

Yoru rattled the handle. "Are you kidding me?!"

Julie reached out, tried it too—

Click. Clack.

Nothing.

The door would not budge.

Julie slowly turned to him. "You locked us in a closet?"

Yoru was glaring at the door like he could teleport through it. "I didn’t lock us in."

"Then how did—"

"How the hell should I know?!"

Julie sighed. "Great."

She felt Yoru shift beside her, rubbing his face with an exasperated groan. "This is the worst."

Julie crossed her arms. "Maybe you should’ve thought about that before shoving me in here."

"Tch."

"I mean, really. What was the plan? Drag me in here, say cryptic things, then leave?"

Yoru huffed. "Yeah. That was the plan."

Julie squinted. "That’s stupid."

"You’re stupid."

"You’re—"

Footsteps.

Both of them froze.

The distinct, confident stride of a man approaching.

Then, a knock on the door.

"Ciao, bella! You in there?"

Julie blanched.

Yoru went rigid.

"Luca?" Julie called, bewildered.

"Si! I was looking for you. But then I see Yoru dragging you away—"

Yoru gritted his teeth.

Luca hummed. "And now you are… in a closet together?"

Silence.

Then—

"Ohoho~ Interesting."

Julie felt the way Yoru’s body tensed.

Before he could say something violent, she cut in—

"It’s not what it looks like!"

Luca chuckled. "Mmm, but what does it look like, cara?"

Julie sputtered. "Nothing! It looks like nothing!"

"Ah~ So, it is something."

"NO!"

Yoru groaned in pure suffering.

"Just open the damn door," he snapped.

"Hmm…"

Luca didn’t open the door.

Julie could practically hear him smirking. "Do you need a moment?"

"LUCA."

"Alright, alright~"

A pause.

Then—

"Oh, dear."

Julie frowned. "What?"

"Ah… Well…*" Luca cleared his throat. "About the door…"

Yoru’s eye twitched. "Luca. Open it."

"Si… about that… I think it is actually stuck."

Silence.

Then—

"WHAT?"

Valorant Protocol HQ – The Closet of Poor Life Choices

Julie felt her stomach drop. "What do you mean stuck?"

"Ah, you know," Luca said from the other side of the door. "Immovable. Jammed. Not opening. A door that does not door, if you will."

Yoru breathed in slowly. "You’re kidding me."

"No, no, I would never joke about such things," Luca assured. "You see, I did try to open it, but—"

Clank.

Julie and Yoru jumped as Luca gave the handle a firm tug—only for it to remain stubbornly unmoved.

"—It appears we have a situation."

"You mean you have a situation," Yoru deadpanned. "You locked us in, didn’t you?"

"Mamma mia, you wound me," Luca gasped, absolutely not wounded. "I would never do such a thing on purpose. But… if I had to guess… perhaps the old lock mechanism finally gave out?"

Julie bit her lip. "That sounds very specific…"

"Well…" Luca chuckled. "Let’s just say… it is not the first time I have seen this happen."

Julie blinked. "Wait—you knew the door was faulty?"

"Ehh, I heard rumors~"

Yoru hissed in irritation. "And you still let us stay in here?!"

"I did not let you, my friend. I simply… allowed fate to take its course."

"I will end you."

"Ah, ah! No need for such threats, amico."

"Open the damn door."

"Si, si, I am working on it! These things take time."

Julie pressed a hand to her forehead. "So, we’re just stuck here?"

"Only for a little while!" Luca assured cheerfully. "I will go find something to pry it open—"

"Don’t you dare leave," Yoru growled.

"…Ah."

"LUCA."

"Alright, alright! I stay, I stay. I would never abandon you two in such a… ah, intimate setting."

"It’s not—" Julie stopped herself, inhaling deeply through her nose. "Can you just get Brimstone?"

"Mmm, I could, but…" Luca hummed. "That would be… how do you say… humiliating?"

"Just get him," Yoru snapped.

"You are no fun, Yoru."

"I will kill you."

"Yes, yes, I am going! Don’t go anywhere~"

Footsteps fading down the hall.

Silence.

Julie sighed heavily. "Well. This is fun."

Yoru ran a hand through his hair, aggressively. "I hate that guy."

Julie hesitated. "…You don’t think he actually locked us in here on purpose, right?"

Yoru’s eye twitched. "Oh, he absolutely did."

Julie gulped. "Oh."*

Julie’s breath started coming in short, quick bursts. The walls felt closer than before, the dim light barely reaching the corners of the tiny storage room. Her chest tightened as she tugged at the door handle—once, twice, three times—each failed attempt making the panic crawl further up her throat.

"Oh no… oh no no no no—"

"Oi."

She barely registered Yoru’s voice. Her hands shook as she pressed against the door, fingers curling into fists. "We’re stuck. We’re really stuck. The air—oh God, what if it runs out—"

"Julie—"

"—And what if it’s days before they find us? What if we—oh my god what if there’s no signal—" She frantically patted down her pockets, her mind spinning. "Luca—Luca wouldn’t really leave us, right? Right?!"

Yoru swore under his breath. "Julie."

"I can’t—I can’t breathe—I think I’m gonna—"

A hand suddenly grabbed hers, firm and warm. "Breathe."

Her eyes snapped up, met by Yoru’s sharp, intense gaze. "You’re fine." His grip tightened just slightly, grounding. "We’re fine."*

Julie’s breath hitched.

Yoru’s voice lowered, steady, as if he were anchoring her to reality. "You’re panicking. Snap out of it."

"But—"

"Look at me." He didn’t let go. "Inhale."*

Julie shuddered, trying to follow his lead as he exaggerated a deep breath.

"Exhale."*

She let it out slowly.

"Good. Again."*

She obeyed, her body trembling slightly as she tried to focus on the rhythm of his breathing instead of the walls pressing in on her.

After a few more rounds, the dizziness faded.

Yoru finally let go of her hand, stuffing his in his pocket as if nothing happened. "There. Better?"

Julie nodded weakly, swallowing hard. "…Sorry."*

"Tch." He rolled his eyes. "Nothing to be sorry for. Just don’t pass out on me."*

Julie managed a shaky chuckle. "I—I'll try."*

Outside the door, Luca’s unreasonably amused voice suddenly echoed down the hall. "Good news! I have returned with reinforcements~"

From beyond, they heard Brimstone’s very unamused grunt. "Luca. Why the hell did you call me for this?"

"Well… you see…”

Julie exhaled. "Oh my god just open the door."*

There was a loud clunk as the lock finally disengaged, and the door swung open. A rush of cool air flooded in, and Julie nearly sagged in relief.

Julie barely had time to process her relief before she was met with the grinning face of Luca, leaning dramatically against the doorframe like he had just rescued a princess from a tower.

"Ah, dolcezza, you’re safe at last!" he declared, arms outstretched like he was about to sweep her into a celebratory embrace.

Julie, still mentally recovering from her near meltdown, just stared at him, wide-eyed.

Before Luca could act on his questionable instincts, Yoru stepped out first—forcefully bumping into him in the process. "Move."*

Luca stumbled back slightly, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Oof, easy, my friend. No need to be so aggressive—"

"I am not your friend."*

Julie finally stepped out after Yoru, blinking up at Brimstone, who was standing behind Luca with his usual gruff expression. She gave him a sheepish nod. "Uh… thank you for—uhm—coming to get us?"

Brimstone sighed, rubbing his temples. "I don’t even know why I got called here for a damn stuck door. Could’ve handled this yourself, Luca."*

Luca placed a hand over his heart. "And deny you the joy of a heroic rescue? I could never."*

Yoru, already past his patience, let out a sharp scoff. "Heroic? You locked us in there, dumbass."*

Julie’s head snapped up. "Wait—WHAT?!"

Luca blinked. "Oh? You didn’t realize?" He let out a nervous chuckle, scratching the back of his head. "Oops. My bad."*

Julie’s soul left her body for a moment. "Luca. I thought I was going to die in there."*

Luca visibly winced at the betrayed look on her face. "*Ah… in my defense, I truly did not mean to leave you there for so long, *cara mia.**"

"ANY time would have been too long—!"*

"But you survived!" He grinned, tilting his head. "And see? You had Yoru to keep you company—what a bonding experience, no?"

Julie didn’t even know how to respond to that.

Yoru, meanwhile, looked one second away from punching him. "I swear to god—"

"Alright, enough."* Brimstone cut in, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You two, go cool off. And Luca? You’re on cleaning duty for the next week."*

Luca let out a dramatic sigh. "Ah, cruel fate."*

Julie, still trying to emotionally recover, turned to flee while she still had the chance. "I—I need water—"

But before she could escape, Luca suddenly caught her hand, making her freeze.

"Wait, dolcezza."* His voice softened just a bit, eyes twinkling. "Allow me to make it up to you. Dinner? My treat?"

Julie’s brain short-circuited.

Behind her, Yoru visibly stiffened.

From the side, Brimstone groaned in exhaustion. "Oh, for fuck’s sake—"

Julie’s brain was a jumbled mess. The lingering panic from being stuck, the sudden realization that Luca was responsible, and now—this?!

Luca was still holding her hand, his grin charming and unshaken, as if he hadn't just admitted to trapping them. "Dinner, dolcezza? I promise it will be worth your time."

Julie fidgeted, eyes darting around like she was looking for an escape route. "Uh—I—"

Before she could form a proper sentence, a hand suddenly yanked her back.

"No."* Yoru’s voice was flat, his grip on Julie’s wrist firm.

Luca raised an eyebrow, amused. "No?"

"No." Yoru repeated, pulling Julie behind him slightly, as if shielding her from Luca’s magnetic nonsense.

Julie squeaked at the sudden movement, feeling caught between whatever this was.

Luca, completely unbothered, smirked. "I wasn’t asking you, Yoru."* He leaned slightly, making direct eye contact with Julie. "*I was asking her.**"

Julie felt the weight of their stares, the tension so thick she could choke on it.

"I—uh—I—" she tried to form a coherent response, but her brain was still stuck on why is Yoru holding onto me like this?

"She’s busy."* Yoru cut in again, his tone completely unchanging.

Julie snapped her head up at him. "I—I am?"

Yoru glared at her like she had personally betrayed him. "Yes."*

Julie blinked rapidly. "…Since when?"

"Since now."*

Julie let out a confused noise. "But I don’t—"

"You are."*

"Oh. Okay."* Julie shut up, too overwhelmed to argue.

Luca tilted his head, clearly entertained by the interaction. "Ah, I see how it is."* He let out a mock sigh, placing a hand over his chest. "You wound me, dolcezza."*

Julie flinched. "I—I didn’t mean to—"

"But worry not," Luca continued, his smirk returning. "I am a patient man. I can wait."*

Julie froze at the way he said that. WAIT FOR WHAT?!

Yoru clicked his tongue, gritting his teeth. "Tch."* He grabbed Julie’s wrist again and dragged her away without another word.

Julie let out a startled yelp. "W-Wait—?!"

"Shut up and walk."*

She had no choice but to follow, feeling Yoru’s grip tighten every time she slowed down.

Luca, left standing there, chuckled to himself.

"Interesting."*

Julie’s heart wasn’t slowing down. The lingering panic from being stuck in the closet with Luca was still fresh, and now the realization that he did it on purpose was sending her thoughts spiraling.

Luca, completely unapologetic, still had her hand in his, his charming smile unwavering. "Dinner, dolcezza? I promise it will be worth your time."

Julie could feel the heat creeping up her neck. She wasn’t sure if it was embarrassment, panic, or sheer confusion. Probably all three.

"Uh—I—"

Before she could even attempt to form a proper sentence, a hand suddenly yanked her away.

"No."*

Yoru’s voice was sharp, his grip on her wrist firm.

Julie let out a tiny squeak at the sudden movement.

Luca raised an eyebrow, amused but unfazed. "No?"

"No."* Yoru repeated, this time stepping slightly in front of Julie, his stance like he was physically blocking her from Luca.

Luca’s smirk only widened as he tilted his head slightly. "Interesting."*

Julie blinked rapidly, brain still trying to catch up to what was happening. Why was Yoru acting like this?!

"I wasn’t asking you, Yoru."* Luca’s tone remained casual, but his gaze flickered between them with keen interest. "I was asking her."* He leaned slightly, making direct eye contact with Julie. "So?"

Julie could feel Yoru tense at that.

"I—uh—" she started, but was immediately cut off.

"She’s busy."* Yoru’s tone was final.

Julie turned her head up to stare at him. "I—I am?"

Yoru glared at her like she had just committed a crime. "Yes."*

Julie blinked rapidly. "…Since when?"

"Since now."*

"But I don’t remem—"

"You are."* Yoru’s grip on her wrist tightened slightly, his expression daring her to question it further.

Julie felt too overwhelmed to argue. "Oh. Okay."*

Luca let out a mock sigh, placing a hand over his heart. "Ah, I see how it is."* He shook his head, dramatically exhaling. "You wound me, dolcezza."*

Julie flinched. "I—I didn’t mean to—"

"But worry not," Luca continued, his smirk returning, "I am a patient man. I can wait."*

Julie froze.

Wait for what?!

Yoru clicked his tongue, his jaw ticking as he gritted his teeth. "Tch."* Then, without another word, he grabbed Julie’s wrist tighter and dragged her away.

"W-Wait—?!" Julie yelped, struggling to keep up as Yoru practically hauled her down the hall.

"Shut up and walk."*

Julie had no choice but to follow, feeling his grip tighten every time she even hesitated.

As they disappeared down the corridor, Luca remained where he was, watching them go with sparkling amusement.

"Well then," he murmured to himself, a smirk tugging at his lips. "That was fun."*

[uravily]

him <3 that is all

[candycandy00]

texasgirl1344 suggested this in a comment on a post I made (Dabi under a lust quirk). It sounded fun so here you go! 

Smut. 18+. Blowjobs, masturbation, fist time sex, etc.

There he is again. That guy who comes into the convenience store you work at and buys a random assortment of snacks, a hood pulled low, casting his eyes in shadow, a medical mask covering his nose and mouth. From his build and the glimpses you’ve gotten of his eyes, he’s pretty cute. He rarely speaks, but he seems nice enough. 

Of course he turns out to be a villain. 

At the end of your shift, you’re taking out the garbage in the alley behind the store when you see bright blue light to your left, further down the alley. The guy in the hood had only left a few minutes ago, and you’re struck by the fear that he’s gotten caught up in something, so you do a very stupid thing. You investigate the bright light. 

At the other end of the alley, you find your cute hooded stranger shooting blue flames out of his hands, his hood blowing back from the air pressure and revealing black shiny hair. In front of him, three charred bodies lie at his feet, smoke rising from their forms. You recognize him now, even with the mask still on. This man is a dangerous, wanted villain named Dabi. You’ve seen clips of him on the news, committing violent acts. 

Your first instinct is to flee, but you don’t want to alert him to your presence, so you try to back away quietly. And your foot hits a metal soda can, making a shockingly loud sound. Because of course it does. 

Dabi turns around and your eyes meet. There’s a brief pause where you both seem surprised and speechless. Then you turn and run back down the alley, some ancient prey instinct taking over your body. 

You don’t get far. He’s on you within seconds, grabbing you by the back of your shirt and jerking you backwards, into his grasp. He drags you over to the brick wall and tosses you against it, then slams one hand into the wall right beside your head. 

“Can’t believe you made a run for it,” he says, sounding slightly out of breath. 

“Please don’t kill me!” you blurt out, your whole body shaking with fear. Should you do it? Should you use your quirk? 

He pulls off the mask and takes a deep breath. “No point hiding my face now, huh? You know who I am.”

You nod. “Y-you’re Dabi.”

“That’s right. And I really didn’t want to kill you, but I can’t have you reporting to the heroes that I’m hanging around this area,” he says, then leans in close. “So what should I do with you?”

You shrink back as far as you can against the wall. “I won’t tell anyone! I swear!” You know saying things like that is pointless. He has no reason to trust you. 

“Sorry, but I can’t just take your word for it, can I?”

You start to sniffle as tears sting your eyes. You have to use it. There’s a risk involved, but it’s better than dying. You start to charge up your power, but you need to buy a few more seconds of time. “O-okay,” you stammer, “but please don’t burn me. You can stab me or bash my head in or whatever, but I’ve always been terrified of fire.”

He stares at you for a moment, then sighs and pulls back a few inches away from you. “Alright, I won’t burn you to death. So stop crying. I’ll just-“

Before he can finish the sentence, you hit him with your quirk. A massive cloud of pink dust explodes from your body, enveloping Dabi and causing him to cough and hack, waving his arm frantically to try to knock the dust away from his face. But it’s too late. He’s already inhaled it. 

Your friends have joked that your quirk reminds them of a skunk, because you once had to use it this way before. A man was trying to rob the store one night and had a gun pointed at your face. You hit him with the quirk and ran off while he was dealing with the consequences. 

Those consequences included a painfully sudden erection that didn’t go away for hours. At least, that’s what usually happened. To be clear, the quirk only makes people so aroused that they can hardly bear it. The quirk doesn’t make them attracted to you in the slightest. In fact, the few times you’ve used it (mostly on accident), the person hit with it ran to the nearest bathroom to furiously masturbate if they didn’t have a lover to run to. But you did realize the potential danger of using it on the wrong person, someone who didn’t care who they fucked and didn’t care about consent. Your quirk didn’t override a person’s mind or values, but someone who already thought nothing of raping someone would be very dangerous under the effects of this quirk. 

Dabi was a villain. It was certainly possible that he was the wrong sort of person to use it on. But it was either this or be killed. 

Presently, Dabi has dropped to his knees, panting heavily, looking down at his crotch in disbelief and then back at you. 

“What the fuck did you do to me?” he asks, his voice strained. 

“It’s a lust quirk. It’ll wear off in a few hours,” you tell him, backing away, getting ready to run back to the store, where a few other employees were still cleaning up before closing time. 

He groans, rubbing at his crotch though his pants. “A few hours?! Fuck!”

You pause and watch him, unable to take your eyes off his face, the healthy parts of his skin flushed red, his soft hair hanging in his eyes, his hand struggling to unbuckle his belt, stilted moans escaping his lips. 

Oh fuck, he’s hot. 

He looks up at you, and instead of looking threatening or angry, he just looks… hungry. Like he’s starving and you have a big plate of food in your hands. His eyes move over you, but he makes no attempt to grab you or even touch you. 

Suddenly you feel sorry for him. You step closer to him and say, “Do you want me to help you to a restroom?” 

He groans and tries to stand up, stumbling a bit. You take hold of one of his arms and help steady him, then you help him walk back to the store. 

The store is empty, and you remember that they had decided to close up early today. You feel like slapping yourself for forgetting, but it does make things less awkward as you lead Dabi to the men’s restroom and into a stall. He flops down on the toilet, fully clothed, and you turn to leave. 

Only, you can’t bring yourself to walk out of the restroom. You hear Dabi’s belt coming undone, and you go back to the open stall, where he’s in the process of unbuttoning his pants. He looks up at you questioningly. 

“Um… can I… watch?” 

His flushed face frowns. “Huh? You a pervert or something?”

“No! I just… Sorry, never mind! I shouldn’t have asked that!” You own face is flushed as you start to leave again. 

“I don’t care,” he says, those eyes looking at you hungrily again. Weird. Your quirk shouldn’t have that effect on him. 

“Really? Are you sure?”

He nods, finally getting his pants open and pulling his cock free. It’s huge, and so hard and stiff, it looks like it’s about to explode. You blush as you stare at it, watching his hand begin moving up and down the length, feeling transfixed as the tip glistens. He has three piercings that look like they were incredibly painful, but somehow they turn you on. You stand there in the doorway of the stall, holding onto the door frame, squeezing your thighs together to prevent the growing wetness between your legs from leaking out, watching this villain stroke his cock. You face is hot, tinted pink, your lips open. You’re beginning to breathe harder. 

Dabi looks at your face and, between ragged breaths, asks, “Did your quirk affect you too?”

“No,” you answer, “I’m immune.”

His eyes pointedly shift to your thighs, where your arousal has dripped down from under your short skirt and is leaving a trail down your leg. You gasp and reach down to try to cover it with your arm, but it’s no use. Dabi has already seen it. You squish your thighs even tighter together and say, “I’ve never watched someone jack off before. I didn’t know it would be so…”

“So what?” he asks, tilting his head back but still watching your face as his arm increases speed and force. The motion is making a wet sound as his hand spreads the wetness from the tip all over the shaft. 

“So… hot.”

He suddenly grabs a handful of toilet paper and covers the end of his cock with it. He groans and closes his eyes, then his whole body tenses. A few seconds later, he pulls the paper away and tosses it in the nearby trash can, exhaling a deep breath and leaning his back against the wall behind him. 

It only takes a moment for him to realize something is wrong and sit up straight, looking down at his still fully hard cock. “What the fuck?”

“Sorry, it’s because of the quirk. I said it’ll last a few hours, remember?”

“You mean it’s gonna stay hard the whole time?” he asks, looking at his own dick as if it had betrayed him. He groans as the feeling of uncontrollable arousal hits him again, and his hand is already beginning to move again. 

You shift uncomfortably in the doorway, your panties so wet that it feels like you’ve peed yourself. “I can help, if you want me to.”

His eyes shift to your face immediately, his hand freezing in place. “What?”

You step closer. “I just thought… since I caused this, I could help. If that’s okay with you.”

He opens his legs further apart and looks you in the eyes. “Do whatever you want.”

He must have expected you to reach down and stroke him with your hand, because he seems very surprised when you drop to your knees in front of him and lean your face forward. You extend your tongue and gently lap at the tip of his cock, causing him to moan. You’ve never even touched a dick before, something your friends tease you about, considering your quirk, but your instincts guide you. 

You close your lips around his cock, swirling your tongue around it as you move back and forward, letting it hit the back of your throat. You feel one of Dabi’s hands on your head, burying his fingers in your hair. You prod one of his piercings with your tongue and his cock twitches in your mouth. This all turns you on so much that you spread your knees apart, pull your skirt up, and shove one hand down the front of your panties. You have a well used vibrator at home but you’re so aroused, your fingers stroking your clit will easily get the job done.  

Seeing you do this must have turned Dabi on as well, because it feels like he just got even harder, if that was possible, and he moans as he presses your head down, making you fight to suppress your gag reflex. Then, all at once he pushes your head down so hard that you feel like you’re choking, and groans as he cums down your throat. 

You swallow it all eagerly, your hand still working between your legs. You only regret that he was so far down your throat when he came, you didn’t get a proper taste of his cum. You want it to coat your tongue. You want to savor it. 

He’s still hard in your mouth, so you don’t pull away even when he moves his hand from your head. You just start moving your tongue around him again, sliding your lips up and down him. You glance up at his face and see him looking at you with a strange expression. It’s unreadable, but he can’t take his eyes off you as you continue sucking him off and pleasuring yourself at the same time. 

You feel yourself getting close to climaxing, so you increase the intensity of your strokes, feeling your body quiver. Finally, you cum, and you let his cock slide out of your mouth just long enough to moan. When he sees this, he suddenly grips your chin and presses two fingers into your mouth, holding it open as he shoots his cum onto your tongue. 

You slide your tongue around in your open mouth, tasting his cum and spreading it all over the inside of your mouth. It’s so good, you think you might get addicted. You pull your sopping wet hand out of your panties, fingers sticky, and reach toward the toilet paper, but Dabi catches your hand in his and pulls your fingers into his mouth, licking them clean. 

He’s still hard. Of course he is. His eyes are looking increasingly wild and desperate, the lust completely over taking him. Soon he’ll be like a feral animal, doing anything and everything to cum again. If you don’t want to be fucked by him, now is probably the time to leave, before he loses himself completely. You stand up on shaky legs and look down at him. He’s breathing hard, one hand starting to stroke himself again, hair disheveled, blue eyes staring up at you. You look at his cock, and you wonder if that monster will even fit inside you. But he has that look again, like he’s positively starving for you, like he wants you more than anything else in the world. 

This man was going to kill you only a little while ago. Now you want his dick to obliterate your virginity. Maybe you’re not so immune to your quirk after all. You reach under your skirt and pull your panties down, tossing them aside. You step closer to Dabi and say, “I can help you some more if you want.”

He reaches up and jerks the skirt down so fast, you almost fall down from the force. He practically tears it from your body, leaving you exposed from the waist down. You feel a quick rush of embarrassment, but it quickly passes. You’ve been staring at his dick all this time. Why be embarrassed by him staring at your pussy? 

You position yourself above his cock, placing the tip right at your entrance. You rub yourself on him a bit, then prepare to lower yourself. “This is my first time, so be-“

He doesn’t let you finish the sentence. With a growl of pure, animalistic lust, he grabs your waist and pulls you down. You’re so slick from cumming earlier that, combined with him pulling you down so forcefully, his massive cock goes all the way in. For a moment, your brain goes complete numb. You don’t breathe. Your eyes go wide as tears fill them. You don’t move a muscle, you just sit there, impaled on his cock, your whole body twitching. Then you gasp, starting to breathe again. You’ve never felt pain quite like that before, but it also feels incredible. You’re so full of him, so warm, you want him to go even deeper. 

His eyes, clouded with desire as they are, stay on your face. “You okay?” he manages to ask 

“Yeah,” you say, “I think you just rearranged my insides, but I’m good.”

He laughs, but his face is still full of lust, arousal. He’s being as patient as he can, but he wants to move. You can feel it in the way his muscles are twitching. 

You take a deep breath and brace yourself, then you start moving, slowly and gingerly at first, just wiggling around a bit, and then you raise yourself up slightly so that you can slide back down. 

Dabi tosses his head back, grunts of “Fuck!” escaping his lips. His hands are still on your waist, gripping the flesh there for dear life. 

After a while, you start to feel more comfortable, so your movements get more bold. You’re riding him now, grinding against him, arms wrapped around his neck. The sounds he’s making almost bring you to orgasm again on their own. Soon after, his whole body stiffens, he moans again, and you feel him cum inside you. How does he have anything left? 

You slide off him and stand in the stall on trembling legs. He must know you need a break, because he starts jacking off again, using the sticky combination of your and his cum, and the small amount of blood from your deflowering, as lube. You watch him, mesmerized by the sight. Eventually he cums again, though only a few drops ooze out. 

He’s still hard, the poor guy. You start to feel sorry for everyone you’ve ever used this quirk on, even the guy who held you at gun point. You had no idea the effects were so intense. 

You have to take responsibility and help him out again. Two handjobs and another blowjob later, the quirk has finally worn off, and both of you are exhausted. You’ve collapsed onto his lap, breathing hard, clutching his jacket. You gather your strength and stand up, picking up your discarded clothing from the floor. 

You glance back at Dabi, who has his head leaned back, his eyes closed. Did he pass out? Should you take this chance to run away? That was the original plan after all. But no, something tells you not to do that. 

“So are you still going to kill me?” you ask, keeping your voice even. 

He lifts his head and looks at you. “I was never gonna kill you. I was gonna threaten you a little and try to scare you into not calling the heroes on my ass.”

“Oh,” you say, feeling stupid. 

He slowly stands up and buttons his pants. “I told you I didn’t want to kill you. Why do you think I keep coming in here?”

You still don’t get it. Maybe your brain is still fuzzy from all the orgasms. “Why do you keep coming in here?”

He gives you a weak grin. “There’s this cute girl who works here. I like seeing her smile when I walk in.”

You blush at that, your own grin spreading across your face. “What a coincidence. There’s this cute guy who comes in all the time but hides his face. I’ve always wanted to know who he is.”  

Dabi laughs as he heads to the sink and washes his hands. You watch him in the mirror, your mind drifting back to all the things you just did with this man. When he’s finished, he opens the door to the restroom. He looks at you over his shoulder and says, “That’s a hell of a quirk you have. Next time, let’s be a little better prepared.”

With that, he leaves. You look at yourself in the mirror. Hair messy, cheeks flushed red, drying cum on your face. All you can think is, “Next time?”

[signanothername]

Been thinking about Mikey’s powers nonstop and I gotta actually talk about it or I’ll explode

Ok so one headcanon that most the fandom agrees on is that Mikey’s hands and arms gotten hurt after the events of the movie, which is a very logical conclusion to have

Here’s the thing tho

I don’t headcanon it myself, I’m more “Mikey’s hands are actually pretty ok after opening the portal to save Leo”

Why do I think that tho?

We see F!Mikey literally dying after opening a portal, and he’s a lot more powerful than his teen counterpart, so it’d be illogical to think that teen Mikey (who’s still a novice and a lot less powerful) to just be ok after opening a portal himself, and you’re absolutely right for thinking that

Just cause I think Mikey’s hands/arms were ok doesn’t mean I think Mikey was ok after the events of the movie, I just think that his powers affected him in a bit of a different light

Kay so one thing I wholeheartedly believe is that the turtles’ Ninpō is connected to one another, and in a way it protects them whenever they share a certain power beyond what they could handle

and that’s why it takes F!Mikey’s life but not teen Mikey, F!Mikey didn’t have the rest of his brothers to take a load of his powers and it’s obvious from how he looks a lot older than he should be that using his powers takes away from his life force

Junior asks Mikey to “help” Leo at the beginning of the movie, making me believe Mikey works as a healer for the resistance, and it makes sense considering medical supplies are hard to come by in the apocalypse, and the fact Mikey looks pretty old, I believe Mikey used his powers to heal people’s injuries and that in turn takes away from his own life

Back to my og point, teen Mikey’s hands start cracking exactly like F!Mikey’s hands, signaling he might meet the same fate, except in teen Mikey’s case, Don and Raph stand beside him, put their hands on each of his shoulders and let him know they’re with him

And we can see the cracks of his magic breaking away, after Raph and Don shared the load with him, what’s curious to me tho, is how Raph and Don’s arms start cracking like Mikey’s, but once they reach their shoulders (specifically the shot of Don’s shoulder mark that glows for a second) the cracks disappear

It’s like Don’s and Raph’s powers fought against Mikey’s powers in a way? Or maybe quite the opposite and simply worked with Mikey’s powers? Idk how to describe it so I’m leaving the screenshots man

Another thing I find really interesting, is that Mikey doesn’t seem to be struggling with keeping the portal open, he only struggled with opening it, so that means certain actions are easier than others, which makes a lot of sense

Opening a portal? Could kill him

Holding the portal open? Piece of cake

Closing the portal? Bitch please

F!Mikey didn’t have his older brothers to take a load of the damage that could come from his powers, hence why they take his life, and with the apocalypse, I wholeheartedly believe F!Mikey had to take some reckless decisions many times that affected his health and in turn made him weaker and weaker as time went on (physically speaking not mentally or magic wise)

Anyway, that’s why to me at least, the headcanon that teen Mikey’s hands end up damaged after the movie kinda misses the point of the entire scene with Raph and Don holding his shoulders

Then again to assume Mikey’s absolutely alright physically is just illogical, so to me I like to believe Mikey did suffer from physical consequences, but not his hands/arms

Considering that Mikey’s powers might be connected to his life force, I believe he could’ve suffered from really bad fatigue, maybe even fell ill for a few days or even weeks, it might’ve even affected his appetite and physical strength, making it a bit harder to be as energetic as he usually is and making it harder to Razzamatazz

And yes it might age him a lot faster than his brothers if he uses his powers relentlessly and recklessly

Anyway, thanks for coming to my ted talk

[lizard-shifter-noms]

Broken Bloodlines Epilogue

——————————————————————————

and were to the end! an epilogue to this chaos!

wellp, time to work on arc 3 now! (that means Hiatus for a while)

have fun reading!

and as always reblogs are appreciated! (Also ASK’s are open so feel free to bother me!)

AO3 Link for those that prefer the layout there; https://archiveofourown.org/works/44627188

——————————————————————————————————

During the following three days I would have nightmares every time I went to sleep, so I ditched napping at the lookout rock like I usually did in favor of helping people during the day.

In the night though…

It wasn't pretty, while I didn't toss or turn like most people would have simply because not moving while sleeping had been so ingrained in my time as a street Bastard.

Being plagued with reruns of people dying in front of me wasn't nice, even if I hadn't known anyone who died, well Oakley kinda died?

That was another constant piece in those nightly horrors,  Oakley burning to nothing but ash, again and again and again.

After the first one I woke up to see Fable had moved to sleep beside me instead of the loft.

Seeing that calmed me at least somewhat from the rising panic and let me calm down a little.

Knowing Fable was there helped remind me that the battle was over and there was no danger anymore,  and that my friends were okay now, well, most of them at least.

Barsen’s Funeral had been crowded, very much so,  It almost looked like the entire castle was there.

Maybe it had been the entire castle, I didn't know many people still.

That was also another part of my nightmares, finding the corpse of Barsen.

Sometimes the nightmares drifted from what had actually happened to a kaleidoscope of horrifying injuries, corpses and a blood stained  riverbank that fell into itself.

After The third day of that repeating horror I went to Oakley,  just wanting something that would at least not make my entire nervous system feel like it was about to explode.

That and I wanted to ask for a compass, I'd trade it somehow.

Though of course I didn't tell Fable about the compass, as far as he knew I was just going to get a sleeping aid that wasn't alcohol.

“So you want something to stop the nightmares? 

AND a gift for your brother who is going to leave in like two days?”

I sheepishly rubbed the back of my neck, yeah that might be asking a little much of him, but if he didn't want to help that was fine!

It was his stuff after all, and he had already helped a great deal with everything so he had no obligation to do more.

He whipped me gently on the head with some old scroll.

“Say that earlier next time! If he's leaving in two days you shoulda asked that sooner you dumbass! Now let's first see what I can give you for sleeping and then we can talk about the compass thing!”

I looked at him surprised, he really was an enigma, but at least he was still willing to help.

Even if I didn't quite always understand the things he criticized about what I did, and when I did them.

Though i could understand the time issue thing, i should have asked sooner but i didn't really get a chance to do so as Fable was around me a lot, and when he wasn't it was someone else.

In the end he gave me something that consisted of a thing called valerian root extract and was supposed to calm down.

After instructing me on how much to take and when we moved on to the compass gift idea.

“So what exactly do you want to do? Just give him a plain old compass?”

I shook my head at the winged man.

“I thought about painting it, like green with pastel blue flowers”

Oakley tilted his head in that Birdlike manner of his and then marched to one of the walls where three chests were set up next to each other.

“I'll look what i can find, as for you, you can go and get me an eighth of a kilo of copper, i'll need that later”

Copper? What? And what did he need that for?”

“Copper? Where am I supposed to get that?”

He just shrugged while halfway into one of the chests.

“Ask Rikaad, i bet the royal treasure chamber has at least some of it,  or go dig a mine and be really lucky”

I rolled my eyes at him even if he didn't see it.

“Alright ill as Rikaad, if he says no i'll ask for a shovel instead”

Finding Rikaad was easy, he was still busy with paperwork,  paperwork that at least had been somewhat sorted now.

After explaining what I needed it for he readily gave me what I needed, saying something along the lines of it being the least he could give me after I helped him so much.

I confusedly hid it in one of my pockets, at least I knew for a fact Rikaad would keep his mouth shut about the surprise.

Going back to Oakley I handed him the copper which was a little more than he needed but whatever.

Then he told me to look at the table and pick a design.

While I was gone he had apparently whipped up ten different designs for how to paint the compass.

From all the flowers depicted I only recognized two, a Blue Flax flower and Forget me not.

I ended up choosing the forget me not design, i liked the shape of them a little more.

Also, Forget me not as in forget me not after you leave.

Then he kicked me out and told me to come back after dinner time.

What the fuck.

Things really never made sense if Oakley was involved,  Then again he was some sort of Semi immortal magic wielder who just didn't use his powers very much.

Why the hell was I even questioning what he did anymore? 

Either it made sense or it didn't but that wasn't my problem.

The rest of the day was pleasantly boring. 

We helped rebuild a barnhouse that had gotten hit by a trebuchet and I had to heave a new support beam two stories up while in Ardua form.

I still didn't dare go around as a Giant simply because I knew that would scare a lot of people.

Fable was also there and helped,  by making more of those light bubbles so we could work on the roof even as the sunlight didn't quite reach that side of the barn.

That of course derailed the entire thing for a good hour simply because people wanted to see an Elf perform magic.

I was secretly very glad a lot of guards had come with us,  including Nea who proceeded to whack anyone who even looked mean at me or Fable with a willow stick.

Those hurt a lot, I knew from experience.

She also informed everyone she could that the Fae ban wasn't really in place anymore and the rest was just paperwork waiting for approval.

I did appreciate her even if she was needlessly violent a good part of the time.

After the sun was about to begin to set we headed back home and ate some sort of potato mash thing with stew.

Walking back to the shed I told Fable to go ahead and that I wanted to ask Oakley again on how much of that valerian stuff to take just to be sure and not overdose or something.

That was only partially true,  I would ask him again while I was there just to be safe of course.

But the actual reason for going there was something else entirely.

I really hoped Oakley was good at painting metal,  he was on paper sure, but metal was a little different than that.

Knocking carefully on the door so as not to startle him I patiently waited till he opened it and beckoned me inside.

Looking around I saw that he had shoved almost everything off the table in the middle of the room, literally, there was stuff in a heap on the floor.

The only thing still on it was a piece of fabric that clearly had something underneath it.

I could guess what that was, also Oakley really liked theatrics huh.

Eh, if he wanted to he could, it wasn't bothering anyone.

He walked over and around the table to stand behind it.

Then with a dramatic swing of his wing arm ripped the cloth from it.

“Tadaa!”

I stared at what Oakley had done with the compass, when he said he needed the copper I hadn't expected him to actually SCULPT with it!

Yes, Sculpt, on the compass he added leaves and flowers like I had asked for, but not only painted like I had thought.

The three dimensional ornaments looked beautiful and whatever paint Oakley got completely masked any trace of metal.

“You good? Or did your brain stop working?”

I blinked and looked back at oakley.

“Uh, i really thought you'd just paint it and not,  I don't even know how to describe it but I love it!”

It really was beautiful, and each of the forget me not was painted with an ethereal sort of shading.

“Yeah i can tell, your pupils are big”

“What?”

I looked at Oakley confused at the weird statement.

“Oh didn't you know? When people look at something they like,  their pupils get bigger! Quite an endearing thing really!”

I hadn't known that, well i doubted that was common knowledge or else people would fight about that as well.

“Uh well then i don't even have to say anything huh?

But really, thank you so much!”

I meant it, he had no reason to help me,  but he always did anyway even if i had no idea why.

He nabbed it from the Table and shoved it into my hands.

“Yeah yeah, you owe me a favor! 

Now scram i need to pile my stuff back on the table!”

I laughed a little at his clearly theatrical grumpiness.

It was very clear he didn't intend anything mean about that.

“I will, i will don't worry, but uh just to be sure,  and so I have something I can tell Fable, 

how much of the Valerian thing am I supposed to be taking?”

He flapped his three fingers against his forehead for a moment before telling me and then shoving me out of the door.

Oakley really was an enigma sometimes, but a likable one.

So now it was time to walk back to the castle in the dark.

I hated that part, I was fine with darkness but I wasn't exactly fond of being alone outside while there could be who knew what.

Luckily after only a few paces I heard a familiar meow and the cat appeared.

She walked all the way back with me and then kept walking in the direction of the kitchen.

I briefly wondered if she just didn't want to walk alone as well.

Making sure to hide the compass properly on myself before stepping inside, I quietly opened the door.

Slinking in, I closed it as silently as I could and walked over to the corner with my stuff.

Fable seemed to be already asleep so I went quietly to avoid waking him up.

Taking off my shoes I also hid the compass under some freshly washed spare shirts, to avoid it getting scratched I put it on the second last one and then put the other, identical, shirts back over it.

There, now there wouldn't even be a suspicious sound should I drag the cloth a bit too much while taking a new one.

Yeah that would work, and tomorrow I'd get a nice wrapping for it and the day after that I'd give it to Fable.

Two days, well technically only one and maybe a half,  and then he would leave.

I wasn't exactly happy about that,  In the past week I had grown to really like him, sure he was my brother but that didn't set in stone that we would get along.

But we did get along great actually,  especially now that he had control over his own brain again.

But I guess he was right, if he felt like he couldn't figure out what type of person he was here in Kamerasca then staying didn't make much sense.

I'd just wish he'd at least stayed for a month instead of a week.

Taking the Valerian stuff Oakley gave me and checking twice that i got the right measurement in the cup i drank it like i had seen people do shots at the bars in the city.

Surprisingly it didn't taste as awful as I had thought,  but it still wasn't on my list of liked things.

Shifting back to Ardua form I yanked some of the blankets that were strewn about closer to me and settled down to sleep.

The stuff Oakley gave me actually worked, there still were some nightmares but not as many and definitely not as severe as before.

What a relief.

The next morning I felt at least a little bit well rested so while it wasn't a hundred percent effective it did help a lot already.

The day was then over way too fast for my liking,  but I did spend the remaining time with Fable and Robin.

Arthur and Rikaad were busy with paperwork again.

During the day I also managed to get a pretty little bag in a lovely red hue.

This would be perfect for the compass!

And it was, it fit perfectly inside of it and I tied it with a neat little bow while Fable got comfy on the loft for one last time.

And way too soon the day of departure had come.

I took the hidden gift out of its stash and put it in my pocket to give it to him later.

Fable himself was currently in the Kitchen getting provisions and I didn't doubt that the kitchen staff would shove at least some sweets into his hands.

Well, this was it, Fable was going to leave.

He promised not to go without saying bye to everyone so he would wait on the other side of the protective wall of the castle.

At this point he had to be there now so I'd better hurry along.

It would feel weird to have the shed to myself again, 

though I didn't doubt that Robin would stay overnight a lot of the time.

The walk over to the gate felt weirdly long,  even though it wasn't actually that far from my place.

The oversized entrance itself was wide open, allowing for easier back and forth as I saw some other people talk to Fable.

Including Nea and Norrin as well as Arthur who hadn't really liked him at the start.

Nice to see that changed enough for Arthur to come say something as well.

Walking through the gate I was joined by Robin who sprinted after me and only narrowly avoided collision.

We then turned to Fable, who was standing in the sunlight and got a ‘friendly’ shoulder punch from Nea.

Nea then left, walking past us and waving at him while dragging a not so happy looking Norrin with her.

So that left only me Robin and Arthur to speak with Fable.

My mind blanked, what could I say?

Luckily I was given a little bit of time to think of something as first Arthur said his grumpy goodbyes and then Robin his more positive ones.

They both left then to give us some space.

“I- uh, i got something for you before leave”

I pulled the little red bag out of my pocket and held it out for him.

He carefully took it and started untying the string with only barely hidden curiosity.

“I know it's not a lot but i thought it would be nice to give you something to remember me by, even if that sounds a bit cliche”

Man i sounded absolutely stupid, this was the last time i would be able to talk to him! And I was butchering it!

Just like the day he appeared at the castle, heh.

By now he had managed to open the clumsily tied bag and pulled out the compass.

He held it like a coin in his fingers and turned it so the sun shone on every facet.

For a split second I saw his pupils get bigger, and if Oakley was right, which he surely was, Fable liked what he saw.

He turned to me.

“This is beautiful, how did you get your hands on this?

The only other compass I have is old and cracked, which is why I navigate by stars most of the time.

But I can't exactly do that at day or when the weather is bad,  so this is perfect.

Thank you”

He moved a step forward and hugged me, I immediately hugged back, almost not wanting to let go as that meant he would leave.

But there was no way I could hold on forever so eventually I let go.

I was sure Fable was about to turn away and walk off when he got distracted by a mewling sound.

The cat! What the hell?

Fable turned the other way again and bent down to pet her.

“Hello Gloxinia, here to wish me goodbye too?”

What.

Don't tell me he actually managed to find a name the cat liked.

“You named her??? Wait, how did you find a name she liked,  and what does Gloxinia even mean?”

Fable stood up again, this time holding the cat, and looked at me.

“One time I was reading a botany book and the cat decided to sit on top of the pages, a page depicting a flower whose name is also Gloxinia.

So i just tried to call her that and it worked”

I was done trying to understand anything pertaining to cat,  and Oakley, forever now.

Why even try when the answer just made it more confusing.

Fable put the cat- Gloxinia on the ground again and turned to face me.

“Well, i cant say ive ever been good at saying goodbyes,  so i guess, this is it?”

At least I wasn't the only awkward one here.

“I guess so? I'm not good at this either but I do wish you luck and safe travels! And if you get the chance, try to write me a letter?”

He nodded.

“Of course, i'll even try to send some souvenirs,  though i cant promise they wont get stolen during the delivery”

That sounded nice, just not the stealing part.

I was about to say something more when I heard someone shout from up above.

Looking up I saw Oakley, well who else did I know that could fly?

He landed a few feet away from us to avoid blasting us with the dust his wings disturbed.

“Wait just one second! I got something for the both of you! 

And I assure you you'll find it highly practical!”

What was he talking about? Well he'd say that in a minute but it probably had to do with whatever was in the big satchel at his side.

He walked the few feet left towards us and pulled out two nearly identical books.

The only difference between the two was that one was decorated with blood red poppies and the other one with sunshine yellow Dandelions.

I could guess that one was for me and one for Fable.

I was proven right when Oakley shoved the one decorated with poppies into my hands and the other one into Fables.

I curiously opened the book only to find that all of the pages were empty.

I looked confused to Oakley who by now had fished a feather and some ink out of the satchel.

“Thanks? I think, what are these for?”

Oakley just tilted his head to the side like an owl.

“Well if you open the first empty page of both of your Logos books i can show you!”

Logos book? Was this something magical? 

I still did as he said though, and so did Fable.

He dipped the sharp end of the feather into the ink and then wrote in simple letters hello in the middle of my book.

I was confused for a second before I noticed that the words had appeared on Fables pages as well.

Ohhh so definitely magic!

Wait if what was written in my book showed up in his then he didn't even have to send a letter! He could just write to me using these books!

“Oakley, this is genius! Thank you so much!”

Fable also agreed with me though he did have one question about it.

“What happens when the books are full? 

And we don't have any empty pages left?”

That was a very good question actually, would he have to come back from who knew where to get a new one?

Oakley gently took Fable's book again,  and then poured some of the ink all over the page.

Of course it appeared in my book too and both of us exclaimed in confusion.

Oakley just waved that off.

“Relax, i'm just gonna show you what to do when you ant to get rid of the old writings”

Oh, that made a lot more sense.

He closed the book and held it over the inkpot again who he had wrapped into his tail to free his hands.

Then he ran his hand along the spine of the book and tapped the cover twice.

All of the previously spilled ink dripped out into the inkpot and when he opened the pages they were empty once again.

Oakley really was a master at magic, or at the very least really creative with it.

“Ohhh, that's actually awesome! And you get the ink back as well!”

Though various kinds of Ink might mix weirdly.

The winged man nodded.

“Yes! Just don't hold it over yourself while doing that or you're gonna stain your stuff!”

Well that one was rather obvious.

“Thank you so much Oakley! 

I think that's the most useful thing I've ever been given!”

It was, also i never received that many gifts anyway so that wasn't hard to do.

Fable nodded as well.

“That will make communicating a lot easier, thank you”

Oakley made a weird salute and then flapped up into the sky once again.

“Well, see ya sometime I hope! And good journey you pale Elfling!”

With those words he was gone, he really was extra sometimes.

So now we were alone again.

What now? 

He turned to me.

“Is anyone else planning on randomly appearing?”

“Not that i know, but Oakley is Oakley so he was probably the only one”

At least I hoped so,  this had completely derailed what we were actually doing.

To be fair whatever that was it was awkward as hell.

Since I really doubted anyone else was going to appear that meant Fable was going to leave now.

Like right now right now.

“Well, i wish you the best on your journey,  and that you find whatever you are looking for”

There wasn't much to say anymore, and even if we forgot something we now had the books so it wasn't a problem.

He smiled, for real this time.

Slightly crooked with his teeth partially showing.

He hugged me again and for a moment we both just froze.

He squeezed me for a moment, which put my ear next to his mouth, And then he whispered in my ear.

“My actual name is Andariel”

Just that and nothing more, but my eyes went wide at the sign of trust he had just given me.

For a true member of the Feyfolk do not give their names out lightly, if at all.

But he trusted me enough to tell me his real name, one I knew I'd never speak out loud or write down.

For a single moment i squeezed back, vowing silently to never ever tell anyone what He had just told me.

“Thank you for trusting me, i will keep my lips sealed about it forever”

Was all i could say as my mind blanked otherwise from this immense show of absolute trust.

He stopped squeezing me so hard, but still didn't let go yet.

“I'm going to miss you little brother”

“So do i, but at least we now have those Logos books as Oakley called them”

“That man is definitely not sane”

I couldn't agree more with that, but Oakley was still an alright, 

if sometimes over the top guy.

I just nodded into his shoulder and he let go for one last time.

“I promise when i found what i'm looking for i'll come back here to visit”

That sounded nice, and until then we had the books.

I continued to stand there till long after Fable had disappeared behind the treeline and it started to get dark.

I stood there long enough for Robin to have to come and drag me back to the shed.

When I told him Fable had successfully named the cat he pouted.

But he did like the name she had been given.

It was weird to be alone in the shed, thus far almost always someone had been here, mostly Robin or Fable.

But now it was silent, and that didn't help with the nightmares.

Despite the stuff from Oakley they came back to haunt me worse than the previous nights.

A knock on the door woke me up.

“Uhh‽ whasgoin on?”

There was another knock on the door, a much more timid one this time.

Since I was in the Ardua form I couldn't really open the door, and I didn't feel like shifting.

“S’not locked”

I yawned and the door slowly opened to reveal a familiar redhead.

“...umm i just…i dunno make sure you're okay? Now that Fable is gone”

It didn't sound like that's what he originally came here for but it was appreciated nonetheless.

“mhm , im fine, space just feels empty now”

It did, and it was strangely quiet, not sure if I liked that any.

Robin just stood there awkwardly and fiddled with his nails.

“Don't keep standing in the doorway,  c'mere and tell me why you're actually up this late”

He looked to the ground for a second and then closed the door behind him before making his way over to me.

He flopped against my side face first and stayed like that for a few seconds before he answered.

“I had a nightmare”

It was quiet and muffled against my fur but still plenty understandable.

Ah, so that's why.

Well, misery loves company or however that saying goes.

“You're not the only one, you actually woke me up from one”

He looked at me.

“I did? Umm well, can I stay here? Just- just till tomorrow?”

“Sure! I don't mind, it's a bit too quiet now anyway”

He clambered over to my head and settled in the bend of my arm,  like he'd done many times before.

I wouldn't ask what the nightmare was about, but I could guess.

Since he had been at the castle during the battle the only really horrible thing he had seen was Barsens corpse.

It didn't take a genius to figure out it had been that.

“Thank you”

He curled up where he was and I settled down as well.

It wasn't that much later when I heard quiet sniffling.

Looking at the redhead I could see he had curled up as small as he possibly could and was almost silently crying.

“...I miss him, why'd he have to go like that? 

He didn't even say what he was gonna do.

And who's gonna take care of the plants now?”

He mumbled into the fur of my arm.

So I had been right then, it was about Barsen.

“I miss him too, i think everyone does, as for the plants, i don't know”

At some point a new gardener would be hired,  had to be as everything would go unkempt and wild otherwise.

Robin shuffled closer to where my shoulder connected with my neck and tried to burrow himself in there.

“...i don't wanna sleep, what if i get more nightmares?”

I could understand that, before I asked Oakley for help I had trouble not just staying awake as well.

“I don't think you'll have nightmares every time you'll sleep,  but we could go ask Oakley for help tomorrow?

He did help me with that so i'm sure he'll find something”

I tried to reassure him.

He just tried to burrow even deeper into my mane as if it was a forcefield that would keep bad dreams away.

“It's too quiet, in my room i mean, i'm used to have other people around me when i sleep and now everytime i wake up and it's silent i have a moment of horror where i think everyone else in the room is dead”

Oh, so it wasn't only the nightmares.

Right, he'd lived in the dorms of the Guard academy which he shared with Rikaad and Arthur.

It was actually very unlikely he'd ever been alone for so long so I could imagine having the quiet be weird to him.

“Well, now that's Fable not here anymore you could just have the loft? 

I don't really use it aside from looking out the window when it rains”

That and then maybe my own nightmares would also get better, even if just to have the reassurance that my friends are alive and well.

“...You sure? It's your place”

I nodded.

“Yeah, now that Fable’s gone it's gonna be lonely so i wont mind don't worry”

He hmm-ed and detangled himself only a little from my mane.

“Okay, … hey  can you uhh, i don't wanna be- im cold and i don't want to wake up to silence again, so could you-?”

The sentence was horribly jumbled and it took my tired brain a good bit to catch on,  well while I tried to decipher what he said he did move one of his hands to softly poke the corner of my mouth,  the only thing he could reach from where he was.

Ah, so like after the celebration party or during the thunderstorm then.

“Like during the storm? But only if you're sure”

He nodded, having moved to now be more next to my head.

“Mhm, i can hear your heart like that so i know i wont wake up thinking people died again”

That did make some sense in an admittedly weird way.

If he was tucked away like that there would be no way for him to wake up alone.

“Alright, shoes off though who knows what you stepped in”

He obliged and tossed them towards the door where they landed in the middle of the floor two meters apart from each other.

Yeah, sure, that worked, but I wasn't gonna put them away now he could do that himself tomorrow.

“Alright then, ready?”

I asked him tiredly and he nodded while tripping over himself to get more in front of me instead of next to my shoulder.

I bent down and took his entire upper half into my mouth before he even had a chance to completely right himself up again.

He seemed confused for half a second but then gave an amused sound.

It was late and I didn't want to take forever so I quickly tilted my head back a little and let the ginger slide all the way in.

I paused for a moment in case of the small chance that he didn't want to anymore.

No protest came which didn't surprise me since he was always strangely okay with this.

Well i was partly to blame considering i kept enabling him,  but as long as he didn't get the same idea should he ever stand in front of a Dragon or whatever it was fine.

I softly swallowed and he slid halfway into my throat.

For a moment he made a strange movement and I stopped confusedly.

But after a second I noticed he was not in distress and instead was trying to tickle me,  probably as revenge for nabbing him up from the floor like that.

It was largely ineffective, if anything it just felt a little funny, so I swallowed again and he was now completely squished into my throat.

Another swallow and he was fully inside the storage pouch where he slipped around a bit to get upright again.

“Are you alright?”

He stopped moving for a moment.

“Hm? Yeah i'm fine, a little upside down, but-  uhh thank you,  i just- i didn't want to be alone so thanks”

I could practically see in my mind how he was fiddling awkwardly with his hands as he said that, but it was nice to know he was alright.

Maybe now we could both get some sleep without any unwanted disturbances.

“Good to hear, I think we should both sleep now,  if anythings wrong you can just wake me okay?”

He sleepily agreed after turning ‘upright’ and then settled down.

He must have been really tired, well so was i.

Laying down and using the arm without the bracelet as a pillow I closed my eyes.

Shortly before falling asleep I hear Robin mumble something that I could just barely translate to ‘you're warm’ before I joined the dreaming world.

For the first time since the battle there were no nightmares as I slept, 

just a small and protective warmth.

———————————————————————————

PREVIOUS / OVERSIGHT

ARC 3

[anayaahwrites]

KOT Ficlet #7 (Kudou Chika/Houzuki Satowa)

The post chapter 110 ficlet I had promised ;)

Since I'm a little late, this is set in a hotel they're staying at for nationals.

This is more of an excuse to write them as hormonal teenagers because I can't do that in my longfic lmao.

⚠️: This is soft PwP majorly, so here's your rating warning! (Rated E for Explicit). Enjoy!

The world is conspiring against her today.

Satowa huffs, standing before the locked door of her room at seven in the evening, jiggling the doorknob at the tiniest hope of it unlocking itself somehow. 

But no, it's bolted shut with no give, and the master key was marvelously not available either. Granted, it was her fault. She was certain she knew Hiro’s sleep pattern well enough to predict when the girl would awaken, hence decided to leave her pair of keys in their shared room.

 She was evidently wrong. Satowa sighs, resigning to sit herself beside the door till she thought of something else. Not like she didn’t have enough of a jungle gym in her brain already.

It had been two weeks since they.... confessed which is putting it tamely given how they both yelled their feelings out to each other a day apart.

 Satowa had expected nothing in return. In that moment, she only remembers seeing red—when Chika bowed his head. She thought a hug was simple enough, something she could explain away later easily—it was a white lie, she was having a sunstroke, whatever works.

 But when forced to confess, Satowa had never fathomed his arms wrapping around her, head softly lying against her shoulder. She had never fathomed a reply—the same as hers, with a wide grin across his face—only the day after. 

 But the progression of events had led to Satowa wanting something more the day after that, like a monkey in an experiment being psychologically wired to demand more candy.

 She sighs, resting her head between her knees. Because nothing came. The next day, the day after the next. Even almost two weeks later, they were perfectly normal around each other. Something had changed in Chika, though. He'd become more... mature. His usually fiery eyes were more relaxed, a laid back light in them that watched her carefully, every hour of everyday. 

 Unsurprisingly, she wasn't the only girl to notice this change. Fifty percent of the school population now saw him, more than ever, as a boy put through horrible circumstances that he never deserved. Some of them cried and bought him lunches and chocolates as an apology for treating him like a criminal. 

 She was happy for him, when he shyly took their bargain. She really was. 

 Until it somehow turned into an 'everyday-is-valentines-day' fiesta and Chika's locker was exploding with gifts round the clock. That was a bit much.

 And Satowa had predicted him to yell at them to stop—for Christ's sake—throwing food his way as if he were a dying fish. The old Chika would do that. 

New Chika, however, simply pursed his lips, chucked the contents of his locker into a bag and offered it to everyone in the club later, insisting they take it home and not eat it here so as to not hurt anyone that the intended recipient wasn't the one taking them.

Satowa never accepts any, feeling a little jaded. “I don’t like sweet things,” is her excuse.

He'd told her he loved her back and for a while, she thought he did. But her confidence began to falter, now that the small smiles usually sent her way were public property. 

Maybe he really did love her as a friend and she misunderstood his kindness.

She buries her head deeper into her knees, groaning in irritation. The sound of jingling keys makes her raise her head in relief. Hiro-senpai you savior—

"What...." He eyes her, confused.

 "Uh...” Oh, great. Of all the people. "Locked my keys in the room." she smiles awkwardly.

 "The other pair?"

 "Hiro-senpai has it. She isn't in."

 She eyes her watch. Quarter past Seven. Judging by the breathless huffing, he was returning from an evening run. He wipes the sweat off his brow in a way Satowa thinks Kudou doesn't know is so scandalous.

 "Have you seen the practice room downstairs?"

 She would have, if her brain wasn't so full of him.

 "Wanna check it out now? Since you have time to kill?"

 "Why?" She hadn't meant to ask that out loud, but now that it was out of her mouth, she was curious.

 He furrows his brows. "Aren't you supposed to ask me where at this point?"

 "No," She reiterates, "I'm more interested in why."

 Instead of answering her directly, he rattles the keys in her face. "I'd booked it an hour ago. Thought I'd ask glasses, but he's out so..."

 Ah, so that’s where Hiro was. Satowa squints, repeating, "So?"

 "So," he ruffles his hair. "Accompany me?"

 She didn’t need to be told twice.

 While Chika busies himself in laying down the Kotos, something he insisted to do for her whenever he was around because 'You weigh half of it and I'd know since I've carried you before.'

 (She'd never understood how he suddenly was completely comfortable saying the weirdest things.) 

 "No, really," She tries, again. "Why?"

 He barely looks over his shoulder to shoot her a sheepish glare, playing with the hem of the Koto cover, and staying rooted to his spot. 

 “In case you decided to come with somebody else.”

 "Somebody else..." She narrows her eyes. "Hiro-senpai?"

 He scratches his neck, mumbling, "That guy's here..."

 "I'm going to need more description than that."

 "The flashy guy," he waves it off, as if he doesn't want to say it. "The one from Ichiei. The one that..." He exhales loudly. "The one that hugged you."

 She frowns, a little offended, "I'm pretty sure I can defend myself with a kick to the groin. I don't need you to protect me."

 "What? No? No!" He defends. "It's not that he'd do anything to you. If anything, I know how much your kicks hurt. I just...” He releases an exhausted sigh. "I don't think you realizes how much attention your—" He scans her frame and averts his gaze, panicked. “you gather."

 "I gather attention?” She looks appalled. "Yes, because I'm the person girls are flocking around like felines high on catnip."

 He quirks an eyebrow. "Does it bother you?"

 She's silent for a second. Then, "No." 

 "Are you sure?"

 "Positive."

 "I hope you know you look pissed."

 "That's just my face."

 His lips twitch into a teasing grin but he ultimately drops the topic. 

 Satowa hmphs as he lays the Koto before her. She places her fingers gingerly over the strings, humming a familiar tune.

 "That's not 'I'."

 "No, it's not, " She replies, lightly thrumming the notes. “It’s a piece I play when I don't feel great."

 "So you are pissed."

 She rolls her eyes.

 “At me?" He hazards a guess. 

 "Yes,” She glares at him, pressing down on the first note to drown both their voices out. "And no."

 When music fills the air, Chika sits before her in comfortable silence, listening to her express whatever it was she wanted to. The piece is a high pitched screech in comparison to Satowa's usual delicate notes, bordering between a sacrificial satanic ceremony organ and a frustrated banshee wail. 

It helps her channel all her grievances in one place, in a matter of minutes. At some point she forgets Chika is in the room but it doesn't matter because he's in every thought she has. 

His voice. His smell. His skin.

Somewhere in between, it transforms her music, into a soft vibrato of a ballroom waltz, like the push and pull of hands and mingling of bodies. She lets the sound calm her nerves. Remind her focus right now should be music and nothing else, like it has always been. One up or down should change nothing between them. 

She was dealing with it for all this time, she could sustain another few years if Satowa put her mind to it. 

"That...”  His voice cuts through her thoughts. "That sounded pained."

She nods.

"Uh... Are you okay?"

There were many answers to this question. She had done a lot of thinking in the past few days of how to approach the topic of... them. Even saying that sounded strange to her ears. 

He edges closer. "Hou—"

"No," She replies. Then a heartbeat later, "No. I don't know."

"You don't know?"

She nods her denial.

"Okay. Okay, that’s fine.”  He says, perplexed. "Let's begin with what's bothering you?"

Mostly you. 

When she doesn't reply, he does actually come closer to where she sits.

"I can't help you if you won't talk to me, Houzuki."

She looks at him over wet eyelashes, horrified at how her emotions were really out of control today. She swipes a hand across her eyes and avoids his concerned gaze. 

"I have a lot of things to think about." And you being unaware of my feelings or actively ignoring them really isn't helping. 

"That's a good start. Things like...?"

"Like how you're so casually avoiding everything that happened a mere two weeks ago." Before her mind catches up with her mouth, the words have been said and all she can do is slam a hand flush against her lips and hope to disappear into oblivion. 

The idea of Seppuku sounded very tempting right about now.

"I'm not."

"Not what?" She asks. 

"Not avoiding what happened that day,” He purses his lips. "I can't even if I want to."

She suddenly feels a whole lot more vulnerable, kneading fists into her lap. Oh great, she'd made everything even more awkward than it already was. He wasn't even looking at her. 

"Actually forget what I just said. I'm tired—" This is exactly why I needed alone time. "—with nationals coming and all."

"That's why I didn't mention it." He mumbles. 

"Mention what."

"That day... The confession..... Us. With nationals coming up, you'd want to focus on this. I know how passionate you are,”  His gaze softens. "I've always loved that about you."

The word sends a pleasant tingle down her spine. Us. We. Him and me. Love—

"You mean as a friend?"

"What?"

"Love me,” She repeats robotically. "As a friend."

He raises a brow, amused. "Why does everyone keep asking me that?" He sighs, “Tetsuki, Glasses. Gosh, even Isaki." 

Satowa chokes on air. "I-Isaki-san knows?" 

"You're lucky you didn't have to answer her questions." His expression looks genuinely pained.

Satowa giggles at the image of Chika smothered by Isaki's bear hugs. His grin widens near impossibly at her. "It's been a while since you smiled normally at me. I've missed it."

"You've had your fair share of beautiful smiles, I think." The visual of girls batting their eyelashes at him turns her mouth sour. Chika is beautiful. She doesn't deserve him. "Enough for at least a decade."

"They aren't you.”

"No. They're better than me."

He looks at her, mouth hanging open like his jaw had unscrewed itself. "Do you genuinely believe that?"

She does. Satowa belonged from a boring world. She lived a mundane life; eating, practicing, sleeping, waking up, practicing, repeat. And Chika contrasted her completely, all wide amber eyes with an adventurous gleam in them.

She loved them so much, it was driving her crazy. And lately her obsession had gotten worse, not that she'd ever admit to it. 

"Did I make you feel that way..?" She wants to wipe the hurt off his face. Satowa rises off the floor, dusting her skirt off. 

I don't deserve you. 

"Don't pity me. I didn't want to push my feelings on you, either way. You saying I love you back there really saved me from the embarrassment. Thank you."

His jaw goes slack. His gaze remained glued to the floor as if it would turn to lava any minute.

He collects himself with a deep breath. "What about my behavior made you think I don't return your feelings?"

She doesn't understand the question. Because though Satowa had basically confessed her undying love and desire to stay by his side forever, she had not for once considered him feeling the same. 

So she shrugs, awkwardly. "I'm not worth the effort."

When his gaze lifts off the floor to meet hers, a chill runs up her spine. He looks conflicted, rubbing his neck in consideration . And somehow that makes her want to kiss him so bad her toes curl into themselves.

"You're not... worth the effort...” He reiterates, incredulous.

"Look I'm sorry for how things turned out,” She says, frantically trying to defuse the situation. "I can be a bullhead and say unnecessary things and this wasn't one of my brightest moments. So let's just forget this ever happened? Yeah?"

"How about no?” He replies, blankly. "I want to know what about that day and what the fuck about my confession made you think I haven't been in love with you for the longest time?"

"Look again, no need to—"

"No, you listen," He says, hovering dangerously close to her face, face dark with anger. “I meant what I said that day. I love you. Dammit—I ran back all the way because I was jealous out of my mind with scenarios of someone else finding you play, plus this room is soundproof and they could take advantage of that—like some petty idiot and here you are—"

"You what?” She asks, stunned. 

"—convincing me not to love you after you confessed first, by the way. You said you loved me—"

"Kudou...”

"No. Shut the fuck up and listen to me,” Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead, hot with anger. Well, hot in more ways than one. "You taught me that there was good in me, that I was redeemable in some way. Even though I've hurt people. I nearly killed Grandpa. "

"You know you didn't do it.” She consoles. 

 "Not until you came around, no. “He shakes his head. “Not until that day when you told me you wanted me to be happy, to not be hurt, to cherish me. Did the thought never cross your mind that maybe I felt the same?"

 She stares at him, blinking. No. It really hadn't because what really was lovable about her? She was a taciturn, obsessed Koto player that cared little outside of her small world.

Why would he—why would anyone love her?

"Oh my God,” He whispers. "You really didn't."

Satowa doesn't reply, she just feels small in front of his large frame towering over her.

"Th-that's because there's nothing you could see in me worth your while! I'm average looking at best, good at nothing except the instrument I've played since I was born. I haven't been on dates, I haven't...k-kissed... "

"Houzu—"

"I'm boring and dull and there's so many better people you could be spending time with because you're amazing and you're way too good looking to be wasting your time on me—"

"Houzuki listen to m—"

"And all these feelings you're feeling are temporary, just because I saved you. Maybe you're grateful for what I said—"

"Satowa."

She stills, both to the deep tone of his voice and the hand gripping her wrist firmly. Her vision goes all blurry; she can't really see him or anything around them, only feel his thumb stroking her palm in a continuous rhythm. 

"I'm sorry,” He says, finally. "I'm sorry I had no idea you've been feeling insecure this whole time. God, I really have my head way up my ass like Tetsuki says."

She laughs despite herself. She feels his hold tighten. 

"I never could imagine for a second that someone as perfect as you could feel this way."

“P-perfect?” 

"You've always been so balanced and confident, I thought I was the only one weighing my self-worth against your standards. I never felt enough for you because you're... You know, you; beautiful, brilliant, talented... I've been so stupid."

She purses her lips. "I'm really not what you make me out to be."

"Maybe. Maybe not. But does it really matter?" She looks up though her eyes felt like she'd doused them in vinegar. "You said you love me. And I definitely love you—no questions asked. Is that not enough for us both?"

"I....” She whispers. "You're right.... It should be."

He releases a long sigh. "So we've finally reached a conclusion?"

"I think.”

"That we may feel mutually undeserving but we still love each other and there's nothing we can do about that?"

"That sounds very embarrassing,” She hides her blush. "But yes."

"Okay. Good. Finally. "

The fingers curled around her wrist make Satowa feel something in the pit of her stomach, pulsating within as he draws closer into her space.

He wraps an arm around her waist, the other leaving her wrist to explore all the other places they could be. Up her arm, her shoulder, the crook of her neck, the flowing strands of her hair.

Satowa's lids drop, mouth opening in a small exhale. "What was that about the soundproof room?"

It's like her words flip a switch.

Instantly, he dives down to capture her lips, pulling her into him. She's so small in his arms, feeling the full height of him as if for the first time. Sensing her discomfort, he puts hands under her thighs, grabbing as she hops off the floor and into his grasp, ankles hooking behind his waist.

 "Jesus," he whispers, kissing down her neck like he'd devour her. "How are you so beautiful?"

She throws her head back, letting him nip at her skin. She'll be bruised by tomorrow, but nothing Hiro’s concealer can't hide. "I'm not..." She arches her back when his hands wander a little lower.

"Let me show you," he drawls, kissing her jaw up to her lips. "Let me show you just how beautiful you are to me."

Satowa's suddenly too warm in her blouse, holding her breath as the buttons fall open and his hands traverse inside, tracing the lines of her body. His palms are warm, thumb stroking the underside of her breast, raising goose bumps wherever he touches.

Her arms circle around his neck to sink into his hair, drawing him closer. Kudou walks them to a mahogany desk in the room, putting her carefully down as if she were spun of glass.

He breaks away to look into her eyes tentatively. Satowa whines, scrunching her face to appear as displeased as she feels. He laughs, pinching her nose. His finger moves over her features, swiping against her lips, her chin, her throat, her breast, her stomach.

Satowa's breath hitches in her throat.

Kudou looks at her through hooded eyelids. "Tell me to stop and I will," he says, turning his palm downward, pushing under the belt of her skirt. The expanse of his hand is the entire size of her waist; God, he's so large it's doing things to her. Satowa closes her eyes.

He cups her cheek with the other hand, gently lifting her chin to his gaze. “I need an answer."

She opens her mouth, tried to give him a verbal answer. When one finger touches her swollen lips, she can only manage a strangled moan before nodding furiously.

He goes painfully slow. So slow, that Satowa has to move herself to let him know she's strong enough to handle it. He doesn't relent.

"Kudou," she groans, opening her legs wider for him. "God, please I'm going to lose it."

Sensing her urgency, he puts another finger in. Satowa gasps, arching her back till she almost hits the desk. Kudou catches her in time, cradling her head softly.

He pumps slowly, letting the rhythm build within her. It's too much stimulation for her and Satowa bites back the sound threatening to rip its way out her throat.

He drags her arm away, shaking his head solemnly at her. "I want to hear you." He quickens his pace, drawing a shocked gasp from the girl. "I want to know what I'm doing to you."

"Please, please I'm —" Satowa throws her arm out like a child, begging for him to hold her. She doesn't know what she's feeling, but it’s strong, like a jug full to the brim. Like a chalice that's about to spill.

He responds immediately, wrapping one arm around her waist and holding her to his chest. The other hand goes faster and faster till Satowa bends, throwing her head back with a scream.

"Yes, yes. I'm so—" She's barely making any sense. "I don't know—I feel—yes, there, right there—" She pushes down on his fingers herself, feeling them touch a place that has her mouth hang open wordlessly.

Taking the cue, he searches for it and presses, deeper into her than before and Satowa screams, muscles rippling under her skin. She clenches her teeth, letting the wave send her body in a frenzy. It's over in a flash.

Satowa slumps in his arms, head thudding loudly against his chest. She's still for a moment.

"Hey." Kudou breaks the silence, wrapping an arm around her tighter. "You okay?"

She exhales, slowly blinking her eyes open to his worried gaze. Satowa taps on his shoulder, dragging him to her.

"Kiss." She commands like a petulant child. He replies, grinning, slowly rolling her lips into his mouth, rubbing her back in a motion that almost lulls her to sleep. 

"You're so beautiful," he says, playing with the strands of her hair that fall over his shirt. "The prettiest."

Satowa flushes, swatting at his hand before noticing something hard touch her core. She shudders on instinct, looking up at his sheepish gaze.

"We should...uhh...” Satowa offers vaguely, though she really doesn't know what to do.

"I'll...take care of it later." He replies, embarrassed.

"But we could—" He puts a finger over her lips, wincing in pain as she moves over him.

"Not yet," he groans, reaching down to kiss her desperately. "Today was just for you. I wanted you to see the depth of my feelings. Just what I want to do to you."

Her eyes darken again, she yanks him down by his collar, kissing a chain up his throat. He gulps.

"Then teach me next time," she touches the tent forming in his jeans. He whimpers, rubbing instinctively into her palm. "So I can understand what I want to do."

He nods frantically before moving away from her to breathe. It takes them both a moment to gather themselves before they decide to move. He helps Satowa off the table. Her feet wobble uncontrollably, an uncomfortable space forming between her legs. She grunts, smoothing the pleats of her skirt.

"Wanna play something?" Kudou gestures to the Koto, tapping at his watch. “We have another half hour left."

Though she'd love to just go up to her room and shower, Satowa can't deny the excitement in his eyes. She smiles. "Fifteen minutes."

His grin is the widest she's seen since the day he confessed.

They spend more of their time fooling around rather than really playing, not that Satowa minds.

Satowa doesn't really like sweet things, she concludes, unless it comes wrapped like a Christmas present under a tree in the form of a bright haired, bright smiled boy.

A candy named Kudou Chika.