#but because he hadn't-he constantly wanted to give and offer things. that's how I see his state of mind. that's his idea of love I guess

[yuseirra]

a family bigger than 4! part 31 one of those "long talks" they had

+ she does get to say it later(part 8)

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / side story 1 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / side story 2-1 / 2-2 / 2-3 / 2-4 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12 / part 13 / part 14 / part 15 / part 16 / part 17 / part 18 / part 19 / part 20 / part 21 / part 22 / part 23 / part 24 / part 25 / part 26 / part 27 / part 28 / part 29 / part 30

[uselesssomebody]

𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕠𝕕 𝕦𝕡 - post!d&w!logan howlett x reader

complete masterlist | logan howlett - coming soon!

words || 𝟚.𝟡𝕜

summary || in which the reader gets stood up, and logan consoles her - in more than one way

a/n || self indulgent :)) guess what happened to me guys !!

➵ i know i've been literally dead but i may be back! not sure fully yet lol but i've missed writing. shocker, college is in fact hard and i've spent a whileeee adjusting. that also means my writing is prob a bit shit here but i just wanted to get this out

➵ first time writing logan - i watched deadpool & wolverine and oh my godddd this man can fucking get it. haven't watched the x-men movies so i kinda had to guess his accent, sorry if it's inconsistent. this is set after the events of deadpool & wolverine

➵ shall i revamp the blog theme guys? i don't have any ideas but idk if you guys are bored by it haha

➵ send me requests if you have ‘em. enjoy!

warnings || fluff/smut/a wee bit of angst

➵ fingering

➵ age gap (not a plot point)

(tell me if i miss anything)

having 2 people in a one bedroom apartment was already cramped. 3 is insane. as much as wade tried, he felt bad for poor hugh's - *cough* logan's back for constantly swapping between the dingy couch and the mattress on the floor to sleep.

and the wolverine was never the type to ask for help, it pissed him off. they had been nearly atomized together for christ's sake!

another room on the floor had opened up, and as much as wade wanted to kick blind al off to that room instead, he knew the old lady wouldn't be able to pay the whole rent herself, and he had to make sure she didn't use too much fun-time sugar under fox's watchful eye. luckily, neither did logan have to live alone, as wade was quick to find a down-on-her-luck college girl who needed cheap rent.

so, now wade's stuck with an ornery old woman, and pretty-boy - well, man - logan got to have a cute girl as his roommate. just his luck. he checked in on his fellow invincible often, and as much as logan didn't talk, wade knew he didn't mind her one bit.

she tried to be a good roommate - cook breakfast for the both of them, pick up a sweet treat for him too if she was getting one for herself, and trying to keep to herself with the studying. but she couldn't help the little crush that she had on her roommate. like, come on.

older, mature, mysterious, downright yummy? what's a girl to do? she kept it to herself, but seeing him smirk or chuckle when she realizes she's accidentally been staring at him in that leather jacket or shirtless going to bed. at least she doesn't make him uncomfortable, but it feels pretty dismissive - how he sees her as such a fucking kid that he can't even take her attraction seriously.

logan took it very fucking seriously.

every day was a mental challenge - truly, god gives his worst temptations to his strongest soldiers. the liquor on his breath was still strong, not now because his life was ruined, but rather because his mind was.

this cute, young girl who looked at him like he was the solution to all her relationship issues, like his old-man body was good enough to fucking eat? it was a miracle that he hadn't taken her. and she just looked so beautiful as she got ready for bed, or as she bobbed her head to music while she studied, or as she buzzed around the small kitchen to cook her third cheap pasta for the week.

it didn't help how she'd always ask how he is, buy him little things to keep his mood up, and always offered to take the couch. he'd rather eat glass than let her sleep on the couch, but nonetheless, she offered every day.

fuck. it was impossible to sleep when she was just behind the wall, in her fucking shorts and tank. unbelievable. he needed a fucking drink.

some nights, he'll come home in the evenings to an empty house. it's rare - she doesn't have too much money to go out, but when she does, she'll usually warn him she'll be home late. he always makes sure to stay awake until she gets home, and even had the privilege of going into downtown to pick her up after the friends she was with had managed to lose her. she had hiccuped, tearing up in embarrassment as she watched him approach her drunk form leaning on a tree outside. she had thought the stern arch of his brow was because of her calling him so late, when really, he was just angry that her friends had the audacity to put her in such a dangerous situation.

"it's windy." he grunts, and she looks down at her short, strappy dress, ashamed.

"s-sorry. we drove here." she tries to explain, and logan relents, brow going from angry to grumpy.

"yeah." he finally sighs, walking with her back to their place. seeing her hands go to cradle her elbows, he places his leather jacket over her shoulders, and she swallows thickly.

"you don't have to-" but he's lighting a cigar as she speaks, in just his wifebeater he'd been lounging in. she decides to shut up, silent until they reach the house.

he helps her in and then waits outside to finish the cigar, and after she gets in, she sighs softly, carefully placing the jacket down. she starts trying to make logan some dinner as a thank-you, but passes out at the dinner table half-way through. luckily, she hadn't had the stove on, and logan's heart melts as he sees her, halfway through mixing a few eggs, head lolling off the chair as she drools a little.

cutie, he thinks, separating her fingers from the fork and bowl, and carrying her into the bed. as he tries to set her down, her fingers clutch his arm, and a small, sleepy whine leaves her.

logan's not a man to blush, but hearing that little beg for him to stay makes him fucking burn. he looks down at her, a hand running through his hair, and he gently tries to let her down again. she just holds on tighter, groaning, "warm..." a little mumble escapes her, and logan huffs. of course it's not that she wants him, she's just cold. he sighs, sitting down and letting her cuddle into his arm.

he had planned to leave once she'd passed out, but it was late, and he was old, so he had ended up just sleeping next to her anyways. the sun's rays the next morning pierce his eyes, and he sighs softly, waking up next to her. he swallows thickly, watching the way the sun hits her form, bathing her exposed skin in orange and amber.

the moment is broken by her startling awake. for a moment, she sighs happily, thinking that this was just a continuation of her dream about logan, where she wakes up next to him after a night of great sex, and they both live happily ever after. then she blinks.

his bicep feels bigger than in the dream, his face looks a little more real, he's- real?!

she squeaks, immediately sitting up.

"logan?"

"don't go getting any ideas in your head." he immediately defends, sighing. "you called me last night."

she bites her lip.

"you took me home?"

"put you in bed too. then ya fucking kept me on ya like a boa." he's joking, but she still struggles to tell between his grumpy voice and his joking grumpy voice.

"fuck, i'm really sorry, must have ruined your night-" she starts, and he gets up, ruffling her hair.

"it's okay. better knowing you were safe." it leaves her a little star struck, especially when he then goes to continue making the omelette she had tried to make last night.

he's cooking for her for once and she gets such a nice view of his broad back in that wife-beater. maybe things aren't that bad.

knowing how she always texts if she's out late, he's a bit confused to come home to an empty room. he huffs, trying not to panic, but he can't help how much he care for the girl. he leans back, lounging on the couch.

as an hour passes with no texts, he's about to get up and ... do something. look for her, call her - something.

just then, she walks through the door, purse dropping on the floor with a thud.

that's an attitude he hadn't seen before. she looks like a deer in headlights when she notices that he is in fact home.

"o-oh." she blinks, quickly picking up the purse, as if to console it. "wade said you weren't home." logan raises a brow, a little curious why the other man would say that.

"long day?" he finally comments, and she breathes out.

"shit day." she corrects. logan's brow furrows.

"hmm." he murmurs, stretching his arm out over the back of the couch. an open invitation. she hesitates but... he looks warm.

conservatively, she sits beside him, hands in her lap. she's not even paying attention to whatever channel logan has on as background noise.

theres maybe 5 solid minutes of silence.

finally, she sighs.

"i'm gonna go to bed." she murmurs softly, getting up. logan wraps his fingers around her palm.

"talk to me." he mumbles gruffly, and she knows that's a pretty big first step for him. she bites her lip, sitting back down, and takes a deep breath.

"got stood up." it's little more than a whisper, and she feels a pout forming on her lips, which she tries to reverse, to little avail. it's silent again, and she wonders if logan heard her.

of course, he did - spending a moment processing who the hell would stand her up.

"i'm sorry." his rough fingers press over hers, comforting, and she can't help but sink more into him than the couch cushions.

it feels nice, more right than the kisses she'd shared with the guy she'd been seeing.

"whatever." she tries to mumble, trying not to show her hurt.

"he's an idiot." his hand slips around her shoulders, and he can feel her pulse quicken.

"i'm an idiot."

"he's an idiot." he repeats sternly. "who was he?" she bites her lip.

"some... guy." logan suppresses a scoffing bark.

"not if he's got you like this." he looks down at her. she's ashamed to look up at him.

"i don't know... i just really liked him. i thought he liked me too." she feels a tear slip out, and logan's fist squeezes in anger as he sees her quickly wipe it away.

"he should be singin' his prayers that he even got your attention." that makes her giggle - strained, but there. he prefers the sound to her defeated mumbles. "look at me." he murmurs, taking her chin and angling it to face him. his eyes travel down to the cute dress she'd put on for her date - low cut, perfectly form fitting, "he's a fucking idiot." he whispers, hand slipping down to her waist.

"yeah?" she whispers, significantly less focused on aforementioned 'fucking idiot' now.

"yeah, princess." he murmurs, hand gently running up and down her side. he knows he shouldn't, but he can practically feel the jump of her heart at the endearment. "you like that? princess?" his voice almost has a teasing lilt, and her lids flutter at the difference in tension from 2 minutes ago.

"a little." her face looks so bashful, so unsure. after that depressing feeling of not being wanted - god, he wants to pull her out of that so bad.

"should be treated like a princess." she shifts imperceptibly closer.

"got a guy who'll do that for me?" she teases, and logan scoffs softly.

"you know i do." his voice carries that gruffness even with how quiet he is, speaking into the small space between their lips. "you know, princess."

she breathes out shakily, leaning forward, when logan pulls her chin, pressing his lips to hers. she whimpers softly, finding her hands and placing them at his nape, not wanting to let go. it's not rough, but needy, his other hand slipping to the hem of her dress on her thigh. she hums into his lips, as he pulls away, a little breathless.

"don't - we shouldn't." he whispers, and a pout graces her lips - a proper one.

"why?"

"yer upset." he sighs, but doesn't move away.

"about?" she says playfully, having fully forgotten about her evening; she'd been waiting for this for so long. he lets out a gruff bark of a laugh, pulling her closer, and she adjusts, getting on his lap.

"come on, bub." he scolds again, and she hums, leaning down to kiss him.

"please?" she whispers, against his lips. he groans.

"jesus, what're y'doin' to me?" his head tilts back, and she giggles, exhilarated that she's got him like this. her hands trail down his arms - god, his arms - tracing the veins, somehow always bulging, as she gently leans forward again, kissing him. this time, theres a bit more tongue, and he pulls her closer roughly, gnashing their teeth together. she moans softly into his mouth, fingers finding his rough palm. he grips them tight - not enough to hurt, but just enough to show that he's holding back.

"i'm not made of glass." she teases, and he scoffs softly.

"i could snap ya'n half." his mumble finds his way back into her lips, and she has to control herself to not showhow much the little quip affected her.

"maybe i want you to."

"jesus." he flips her over, onto her back, "got this pretty little dress on, fuck, that guy's an idiot." his hands travel down her thighs, and she bites her lip, a massive grin on her face.

"you like it?" she murmurs softly, playing with the strap of her dress.

"whadya think?" he huffs, and she giggles.

"and if i told you i got it for you?" logan presses a hot kiss to the side of her thigh.

"i'd tell ya to get a dozen more." his lips move up her thigh slowly, and she lets out a shaky breath.

"god, logan." her whispers of his name are like music to his ear, and he leaves a small bite by the hem of her dress.

"gotta tell me if i hurt you." he mutters, more seriously, and she smiles.

"only fun if it hurts."

"i'm serious, princess." she relents.

"i'll tell you." he sighs in content, gently riding her dress off.

"this okay?"

"more than okay." she helps him, pulling the dress over her hips, her lacy panties peeking under the fabric. when he spends just a bit too long staring, she giggles, "you can touch." she affirms, and he barks out a gruff lap.

"could'a guessed that much." his fingers trace the hem of them, travelling down her inner thighs. her breath hitches, and she gently rolls her hips, desperate for more.

"please, logan." she whispers, breathing a bit labored. though he'd love to tease, he's getting desperate too.

"gotta tell me what ya want, princess." he murmurs, and she bites her lip, almost shy again. it's cute.

"touch me?" she murmurs, almost like it's a favor she's asking. he kisses her thigh again, before gently peeling the panties off. he lets out a soft groan at how slick she is, fingers catching her arousal as they travel down her slit. she lets out a shocked gasp - practically a moan - and he fucking loves it.

`'need them, princess?" he smirks at her, and she nods, almost pathetically.

"god, i do." he obliges, gently prodding her entrance with his middle finger. he slips in with little resistance, but jesus, he can feel how tight she is.

"fuck, yer gonna be the death of me, princess." he groans softly, and she lets out a breathy giggle.

"thought that doesn't happen to you?"

"well, never had a girl as pretty as you." he murmurs, slipping another finger in. she flushes, back arching as his fingers do, body warm as she rocks her hips in time with his ministrations.

"faster?" she begs softly, and he could never say no to those big doe eyes. he starts moving faster, her slick absolutely coating his fingers, and she moans louder, hips moving in a more stuttered rhythm.

"like that?" that teasing lilt is in his voice, and she nods furiously.

"j-just like that-" she stammers, mind already foggy, "god, i'm close, please don't stop."

"not in a million years, princess." she lets out a loud moan as she can feel herself unraveling, the orgasm so powerful that her thighs shake around him as she cums. she pants as he helps her ride through it.

"good girl, just like that, princess," he consoles, "so fuckin' pretty for me, ain't cha?" he grins, as she starts to come down. as her breathing slows, so too do his fingers, before slowly sliding them out of her. he gently rubs her clit, just to see her jolt at the stimulation, before chuckling, and placing his soaked fingers onto his tongue.

she lets out another moan as she watches him, with lidded eyes.

"i'll cum again." she warns, playfully, and he's gleeful. she tastes like fruit.

"i plan on it, princess." she feels her cheeks warm.

"that's the hardest i've cum in a while." she admits shyly.

"sounded like it." he teases, but before they can get anything else out, there's banging on the wall that connected them to wade and blind al.

"these walls are paper thin!" al's screech sounds a little traumatized, and her scolding make both her and logan whip around, embarrassed.

"for once in my life, i agree with her! shut up, lovebirds, i wanna fucking sleep!" wade's voice is equally exasperated.

there's silence, until she calls back a bashful, "sorry!" she turns to logan, almost laughing, but still flushed with shame. "maybe we should stop. he scoffs.

"nah, just means i gotta teach ya to be quiet."

safe to say, she's not thinking at all about her date tonight.

[xqllin]

what i think are the wbk boys' charm points !

first years edition pt1 | sakura, nirei, sugishita

tags ~ fem!reader, mostly fluff, mentions of body shaming (sugishita), random af

notes ~ don't mind me just daydreaming about wbk as usual, i tried including one for physical appearances and one for their characteristics..

first years edition pt2 | suo, kiryu, taiga

sakura's eyes / honesty

the first thing you notice about sakura is the sharp contrast of his hair, then when you approach the boy, his eyes are what catches your attention

on one side there's a bleak gray that reminds you of the barren field of the moon ; on the other is an eye as golden as the sunset - which you believe is absolutely captivating

sakura's shy with his advances, often needing a little push from either one of his friends, but one thing for certain is that the things he says are genuine and rarely sugarcoated

he's outright but still chooses his words carefully, and it gives you so much more comfort than the words of reassurance anyone could give

because you know he means it and that he wouldn't fake any reaction

sakura averts his eyes, gaze not staying on your figure for more than three seconds because he's never seen anyone as pretty as you

you were thanking him for saving you the other day from some creeps, to which he recalls happened quite recently but he hadn't gotten a good look at you until now

and god he doesn't know what to do with himself

everytime he looks back towards you (because it's impolite to not look at somebody talking to you), your eyes were already fixed on him and he prays that his appearance wasn't weirding you out

if it wasn't already obvious by the warmth that envelopes your cheeks when you realise how much you've been staring deep into his eyes

"those guys were.. bothering you right? you shouldn't let them walk all over you like that."

he mutters with a pout, he knows his face is unbelievably red right now, and he thinks it's so uncool to act like this in front of such a cute girl and he knows you know it too

but he still decides to send you off with some words of advice (he doesn't want you to get hurt the next time)

you smile with eyes filled with gratitude for him, you swear you can see steam coming out of his ears from how hot he feels, and give him a playful reply

"right, I'll send them one of those flying kicks you did!"

he then says you shouldn't do that without practice with a rather concerned face, which earns him another minute of your laughter

nirei's smile / support

when the corners of nirei's lips curl upwards, practically every facial feature of his light up, and naturally your lips end up mirroring his in any situation

he's a beam of sunshine that's for sure, the guiding light that you just need sometimes

nirei is the first to celebrate your achievements and the last person you'd shoo away during your moments of self deprecation

he's so eager to help too, pulling out his trusty notebook to offer you support in any topic, you wouldn't be surprised if he had your grocery list for the following week prepared for you

you have been struggling with a school project for a while now, you were constantly doing research, which resulted in you sleeping awfully late some days

luckily you have nirei around to remind you to 'take breaks!' and 'make sure you eat your fill!'

at one point, you both started facetiming each other while you continue your assignment (nirei's suggestion)

sure having nirei's company during these tough nights was certainly helping your productivity, but you didn't want him to suffer along with you and continuously assured him that he didn't have to do this, especially with how hard he's working to protect the town as well

he assured you back that he didn't mind at all and he was doing this on his own accord anyways

he's too shy to admit that he's missed hearing you and seeing your face after you've been busy holed up in your house completing your project for the past week

whenever you were having a tough time and nirei noticed, he'd give you a wide grin followed with some encouraging words to help you get through it

"nirei. nirei?", you call out with a soft voice, the camera showing the top of his head hasn't moved in the past half hour

you say his name once more and you see his body flinch slightly, head jerking up to face you, prying his bleary eyes open as best as he can

he mumbled a quick apology as he yawns.. and he apologizes for that as well

"it's okay, you should go rest aki. i'm finished."

you find it adorable how he immediately perks up, congratulating and praising you for your hard work, the proudest smile hung on his face

you would return the energy if it wasn't near depleted by then, so you settle for a soft chuckle, thanking him for all the support he's given

you pout when he denies your credit and sigh

"well if you're not gonna accept that, i'll just have to use my actions to repay you huh?"

"i'll make up for all the dates we've missed out on tenfold!", you hum, teasing his flustered face before wishing him a good night's sleep

sugishita's height / loyalty

not everybody is a whopping 6ft tall, but your boyfriend is, turning heads everywhere he goes

either curious of the way he towers over everyone or concerned about the prominent grouch he embodies

everybody knows the only person in sugishita's eyes is everyone's beloved top dog - umemiya, but one could argue you were a close second

you've seen how he reacted when anybody refers to umemiya without honorifics, he wouldn't hesitate to defend your name either

it was a lovely day, the weather was perfect and you had cleared your schedule for the day

you even spent the entire morning putting together a flattering outfit to go out in, of course you had to drag your grumbling boyfriend up from his nap for a date! (he quickly shut up after laying his eyes on you)

you both do a little window shopping, mainly just you leading in the front, squealing at whatever catches your eye

and sugishita follows closely behind, like a guard dog, ready to jump at any threat during your lovely outing

you tell him to lay off the scary expression, which he merely huffs in response (he tries to keep his face as neutral as possible after that and ends up looking even scarier through an onlooker's eyes from how hard he's focusing)

you've scurried off to a food stall to get you both a snack on the go when sugishita overhears some rather unpleasant remarks targeted towards you

his eyebrow twitches in annoyance, and mentally panics when he notices you stiffen up, the conversation you were having with the stall owner dying down

they weren't standing too far off, in fact you stood even closer than sugishita was, you feel like curling up and disappearing, like the nights where you'd curl into yourself, arms wrapping around your own waist in a pathetic way to comfort yourself

you quickly pay for the food and urge sugishita to leave the scene, your pace quickening from how desperate you wanted to escape this situation

but before you could react, sugishita was already heading towards the group of people, his back straightened to assert intimidation

"got a problem?"

he cocks his head to the side, with the meanest glare aimed at those people, you scramble to his side trying to pull him away but his stubborn head just wouldn't budge

the people were visibly flustered, their presence shrunk down to that of a mouse, while they hurried away with their tails between their legs

you sigh, "it's alright sugi.. let's just get going yeah?"

he obliges, but now with a hand around your waist, you look up at him in shock and his brows were still furrowed, eyes trained at the road ahead

you realise he's straining his arm to cover your waist, in case you felt insecure about people seeing

he knows you've figured out his intentions, but he doesn't let it show, you just smile and walk a bit more closer to him, happily indulging in the snack you had purchased

you reach the treat up to sugishita's face so that he could have a taste as well, giggling when he comments that it's too sweet

.. definitely not as sweet as your boyfriend though

before posting ~ happy girlfriends day girlfrienddss ‼️ tomorrow is actually my bday and I've finally decided to post this :3 this sucks and im embarrassed but when have i cared about that so it's getting posted 💪

[azusaluvclub]

weak hero reactions; making you cry

thank you @kaazunes for the request! this was a tricky one to write because, for some of these guys, i can't imagine what they'd do to make the reader upset lol- so not all of it is them doing something intentionally, but the reader being hurt over the guys' circumstances. i tried not to make the reasons too same-y, lol. hope you enjoy!

gender neutral as always~

jimmy bae / bae jihoon

⋆ He would never mean to make you cry, but Jihoon is a person who usually acts/speaks before he thinks. This would be one of those times

⋆ You can tell he's overwhelmed; whatever was happening with the Union has him anxious, every nervous tick of his on full display. To no avail, you keep prodding him to tell you what was wrong, with him repeatedly pushing you away

⋆ Fed up, he lashes out, telling you to stay out of it and leave him alone. “God, you’re so annoying,” he mumbles. You sink into yourself, salty tears pooling in your eyes

⋆ Once he notices, Jihoon immediately regrets his words. He grabs your hand and dries your tears with another, feeling like a complete dick (granted, he is one). It’s hard for him to apologize, since it does serious damage to his ego, but he pushes one out. He loves you too much to save his pride right now

⋆ “I’m sorry… You care about me, I know,” he assures, listening as you vent about everything that was weighing on you, and how you wished he’d offer you that same honesty. It shifts his perspective, as you often do; it’s what he likes most about you, because you change him in ways he never thought he could

⋆ After some more reassurance, the two of you work it out. You forgive him and cuddle up to watch a movie, not once letting each others’ hands go~

jake ji / ji hakho

⋆ Man, Hakho is such a good boyfriend that it’s almost impossible for him to make you cry. If you do, it’s probably when you're both crying, often over your guys’ favorite anime (one piece *cough cough*)

⋆ But you hadn't seen Hakho in days and were growing more and more worried. All your calls went to voicemail and your messages left on delivered. He'd do this sometimes when he was busy with Union affairs, but you were sick of it. So there you were, standing at his front door

⋆ When he comes out, his expression is defeated and the first words out of Hakho’s mouth are, “Why are you here?” He sounds disappointed to see you and it feels like a punch. Why are you here? Were you not supposed to care about him?!

⋆ You want to explode, until you notice the exhaustion on his face and realize you can’t. Instead, you break down crying, because you hate seeing him this way. You couldn’t understand why wouldn’t leave the Union when it was draining him so much, or why he'd constantly hide from you when things were rough

⋆ Hakho envelops you with his arms, burying your head in his shoulder. “I’m sorry, baby, I just… I can’t leave yet. I love you, but it’s not that easy.” You beg him to explain; he says there’s no point. Honestly, he wants to spare you knowing the more unsavory things he’s done, even if it wouldn’t change your love for him. "Next time I won't run from you."

⋆ Hakho comforts you until the tears subside and promises that he’ll leave soon. You know it’s just him consoling you, right now, but you'll keep hoping none-the-less

wolf keum / keum seongje

⋆ Seongje can be a prick, unintentionally or not. You know this, but his blunt attitude was what interested you in him and, at times, you loved it — until it bit you in the ass

⋆ You’ve dragged him to the mall for a shopping day. There was a family event coming up that you needed nice clothes for, and unfortunately nothing was working. Everything you’ve tried on fit wrong or washed your skin out. Seongje was no help, either, only shrugging or nodding to the outfits you’d showed him

⋆ Growing tired, you ask him to give a real opinion. He looks at you, “If I’m honest, it’s fuckin’ ugly.”

⋆ You frown and slink back into the dressing room, dejected, quickly changing back to your regular clothes. The whole walk home you barely speak, the words still spinning around your mind. Did he really think that of you?

⋆ Unable to take it any longer, your lips begin to quiver, tears brimming your eyes. Seongje notices and pulls you into an alleyway, a bit disoriented as he thought things were going great, and suddenly you’re crying in the middle of the street. He’s never been good with emotions or situations that required a lot of them, but he listens to you and tries to sympathize, wiping away your tears. It stings being confronted with the effect of his words on someone he cares deeply for, and watching you cry is the worst consequence

⋆ “Don’t cry, okay,” he says. “I didn’t realize I’d hurt you, sorry.” It’s easier to forgive when you see his pouty face, even though you want to stay upset. He’s still learning how to be less rough, but it's an honest effort; you'll give him some grace with that

⋆ He kisses your forehead and you kiss him back, giving up on shopping and deciding to visit the arcade instead (which was a lot more fun, anyways-)

forrest lee / lee sehan

⋆ If Sehan makes you cry, he cries too; and if you are crying, it's not typically his fault. Sehan is more normal than fellow Union leaders, so he's mindful of your emotions in a relationship

⋆ You were supposed to go on a date, but hours went by and it seemed like he was going to flake. You were confused as this wasn't like him at all, and it had you worried that something happened. When he didn't pick you up, you instead spent your night sobbing in bed. You'd thought that, though he's a delinquent, he would be different to you. But he stood you up and didn't have the decency to even send a text

⋆ Around 11, Sehan shows up and you promptly pull him inside to confront him. When the light hits his face, you gasp — it's covered in bruises, dried blood caked around his nose and the side of his head. His knuckles are battered, too, and your tears come creeping back in, dribbling down to your chin

⋆ Sehan jumps into boyfriend-mode, holding you tight regardless of how sore his body was. Making you cry hurt worse than all the punches he'd taken, especially when you cried because of him. He felt like shit; all he could do was apologize profusely and rub your back

⋆ "I wanted to come sooner, but... shit happened. I didn't want to ignore you, or have you see me like this," he whispers. "I'm sorry, I should've called." Sehan kisses your head and you melt into him. Even if you wanted to be mad, you couldn't

⋆ Once you've calmed down, you sit him in the bathroom to tend his wounds and plan out your next date, Sehan eager to make everything up to you

donald na / na baekjin

⋆ As much as he tries, Baekjin isn't always the most attentive. He's often caught up with overseeing the Union + his business endeavors, not giving him much time to really be there for you

⋆ The moments you get are brief so he tries giving you his full attention, but he gets distracted easily, even when you disapprove. This time you were out to eat, sitting in a restaurant way out of your budget, on one of the few dates you'd have. It was going perfect until he disappeared for 20 minutes to answer a call, leaving you all alone

⋆ You're let down, severely. When he returns, you're sullen, unsure if you should say anything. You don't want to feel this way, so you tell him you want his phone off the rest of the night. Baekjin lets out an annoyed sigh, "I can't, you know this. There's a too much going on with this Cheongang mess and I can't drop it."

⋆ It's a slap in the face. Your eyes sting, appetite wasted; you don't want to cry here, but you hate when he does this and now he's completely brushing it off. You can't fight the tears that come, and Baekjin's heart stops. "So is the Union more important than me?" you ask, his stomach tightening. Were you really this hurt over it? He didn't realize how serious it was to you and now he's regretting it

⋆ Baekjin reaches across the table for your hand, disappointed with himself. "No, it's not," he reassures, powering down his phone and shoving it in his pocket. "You are, so it's just you and me tonight. I love you." He kisses your hand and you soften at his touch

⋆ He spoils you the rest of the dinner, buying you all the dessert you want. He doesn't say it, but Baekjin feels relieved not having to worry about what was going on outside of your little bubble; all he needed was to see a smile on your face

kingsley kwan / kwan seokhyeon

⋆ You love Seokhyeon, truly, but you can get frustrated with him just as easily. If you tell him he's wrong, he'll do his best to change, however he isn't as perfect as he'd like to be

⋆ The one thing that comes between you is his loyalty to Baekjin. Sometimes you think he should date him instead, but that's you being petty. It's not uncommon for your plans to get cancelled because Baekjin needs him. While you try to not complain and see it from his POV, today you just can't

⋆ Seokhyeon is helping you prepare for your exams, as he's a lot smarter than you (and you like the time spent with him), until he gets a call from Baekjin. It seemingly lasts forever and once he hangs up, Seokhyeon tells you he has to leave. You frown; you've told him before not to do this. Not only that, he knew how badly you needed help on your exams, yet he's ditching you again

⋆ Your lips quiver as Seokhyeon packs his things. When he goes to say goodbye, he sees your watery eyes + red face and stops, frantically asking what's wrong. He knew you wanted to spend time together, but he thought you'd understand

⋆ You decide to let it out, how you feel second place to Baekjin and that Seokhyeon's relationship with him seems more important than the one he has with you. He drops his head in shame, knowing what you're saying is true — no matter the intention. Still, it stings to see you hurt over his actions

⋆ "You're right, I should be putting you first. I love you, there's nobody who matters more to me." You struggle to believe it, but he pulls you close and you allow yourself to try and accept it when he says, "I'm sorry."

⋆ Seokhyeon calls Baekjin and asks to see him later, cuddling up to you on the couch after. He kisses your cheek and pulls his textbooks back out, ready to help you pass your exams

[iamwhoami]

Babysitting 101

Chicago Med

You and Connor babysit Owen so that Will and Natalie can still have their date night after the babysitter calls in sick.

Warnings: None

Requested = Yes

Y/L/N = Your Last Name

"Nice job back there Dr. Y/L/N," Connor smiled at you.

The two of you had just finished a relatively easy surgery and had returned to the ED to help with the backlog of patients. Between the icy roads and flu season, they could use all the help they could get in there.

"You weren't too shabby either Dr. Rhodes," You shot back and Connor smirked.

"Quit flirting over there lovebirds," Maggie called out, "Y/N you're needed in Treatment 2. Connor, we have an incoming five minutes out, you're going to Baghdad."

"I'll see you after shift then?" Connor quirked an eyebrow and you nodded.

"You bet."

~~~

The rest of your day flew by without any sight of your boyfriend. You were so busy, constantly rushing from one room to next in an attempt to catch up with the schedule.

By the end of your shift, you were absolutely exhausted and wanted nothing more than to open a bottle of wine and put on your favourite movie while snuggling Connor on the couch.

It was that thought that managed to keep you on your feet.

"I am ready to call it a night," You breathed out while you gathered your items, "I don't know if my feet could stand a moment longer."

"Well, they're going to need to find some juice if you want to get to your car," Maggie joked.

You laughed, "Not if I can convince Connor to carry me there."

"I don't think you'd have any trouble," Maggie said and shook her head, "That man is whipped for you..."

You both chuckled at that but you both also knew it was true. Connor would fly to the moon for you.

"Well, have a good night Y/N," Maggie said and left, leaving you to wait for Connor alone.

You quietly waited on the couch for Connor to finish up his last surgery of the day. Nurses and doctors bustled in and out of the lounge and you wished each and every one of them a good night. You were mostly just on your phone, not actively engaging in any other conversation when you overheard your friend Natalie speaking.

"Sorry Will," She was saying, "The nanny just texted. She can't stay later tonight, something with her sister came up."

"Don't worry about it," Will responded, "I'll cancel the reservation then."

You spoke before you could really think things through, "I can watch Owen!"

When your sudden outburst was met with confused silence, you flushed and fumbled with your words.

"I wasn't eavesdropping, I just overheard," You mumbled quickly, "But seriously if you guys need someone to watch Owen, Connor and I can totally do it."

"Connor won't mind?" Natalie asked and you shook your head.

You and Connor hadn't really talked about kids but this wasn't anything like that. All you had to do was look after a toddler for a few hours. How hard could that be?

"We don't have anything better to do tonight anyway," You told them, "In fact, I think it'll be really fun!"

Natalie chuckled at your enthusiasm, "Well I can assure you that it won't be dull."

"Exactly," You pointed your finger at her, "You and Will go on your date. Do. Not. Cancel. Connor and I will watch Owen."

Will and Natalie took a moment to look at each other as if they were contemplating your offer. Finally, Natalie turned back to face you and nodded.

"Thank you Y/N," Natalie said genuinely, "I owe you one."

You shook your head though, "Nah...you don't owe me anything. I'm just glad I can help."

It was decided that Natalie and Will would go and get ready for their date and that they would drop off Owen when you and Connor were back at your apartment. You figured that you should give Connor a heads up but he was still in surgery and you weren't going to disturb him because he was suddenly on babysitting duty afterwards.

He'd get over it.

About ten minutes later, a tired-looking Connor walked into the doctor's lounge and the deepest part of your gut felt bad that you had dragged him into babysitting Owen after a long shift. That guilt caused you to just stare at your boyfriend for a solid minute before he pointed it out.

"What did you do," Connor demanded teasingly as he turned to face you.

You quickly snapped out of your trance, "Nothing!"

"Uh-huh..." Connor raised an eyebrow, "I know that look Y/N."

You feigned offence, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Connor only continued to stare at you and after a while, you finally caved.

"Okay fine," You sighed. "You have to promise that you won't get mad."

Connor nodded, "Okay..."

"I..." You squeezed your eyes shut before opening them again. "I kind of volunteered us to babysit Owen while Nat and Will go on a date."

Silence.

“So…” You stared at Connor, “Thoughts?”

Connor raised an eyebrow, “You voluntarily agreed to look after a toddler…after working a 12 hour shift…”

“Correct.”

The two of you stood there, staring at each other, unmoving. After a hot second, Connor let out a slightly exasperated sigh and ran a hand through his hair.

“Alrighty then, I suppose we should get going then,” Connor gave you a small smile, “wouldn’t want to keep Nat and Will waiting now would we?”

~~~ Perhaps you had underestimated how exhausting looking after a toddler could be.

No, you definitely had.

Dinner had been tiring enough. Somehow more food had gotten on you and Connor than into Owen's stomach.

"You've got a little something there," Connor teased and wiped mashed potato off your eyebrows.

You laughed, "What? Are you sure it's not my new makeup?"

Game after game. Activity after activity. It just didn't end, and yet somehow, it was you and Connor that were tired out, not Owen.

"Y/N!" Owen's little voice gleefully called out. "Come play!"

You huffed but smiled big for the little boy before pushing yourself onto your feet.

Connor couldn't help but chuckle, "Are you having some regrets right about now?"

"Pfttt, never," You shook your head as you sat yourself down on the ground next to Owen. "Right buddy? We're having a blast?"

Connor smiled at you affectionately. He couldn't deny that he was tired but he also had zero regrets. You were so good with Owen. The way you spoke to him. The way you naturally were so attuned to his needs. The way you understood his toddler language.

It took about another hour before Owen's energy began to wane. After a ten minute chase around the apartment, you had managed to wrangle Owen into his pajamas and Connor convinced him to brush his teeth.

Another twenty minutes later and Owen was passed out in bed and you and Connor collapsed on the couch.

"I'm not sure which was more exhausting," Connor joked. "Our twelve hour shift or this."

You teased, "Did a toddler outdo you?"

"Absolutely," Connor shook his head. "I was absolutely outdone by a toddler."

Laughing, you leaned against Connor who wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer to his chest.

"You're really good with him you know," Connor softly said.

You hummed, "You weren't so bad yourself."

"Maybe we should babysit more often," Connor added and you scoffed.

"I think we need a few weeks to recover before making any big decisions."

[kitkatscabinet]

What does Soap look like as an accidentally baby daddy? He gets you pregnant on a one night stand but doesn’t realize it until you get back in touch a few months later

AHHHHH! Thanks so much for sending me an ask xx

Hoooo boy. Despite the fact Johnny wants kids one day, today is not that day. He’s still young and thriving in his career so he’s not exactly bouncing off the walls to find out he’s gotten a stranger pregnant. I think it takes him a few business days to process and Kyle asking him what he’s gonna do to get himself to kick into gear.

Because of course he’s gonna be on the kids life, and of course he’s gonna support the person giving birth to his child. I can see him wanting to move you to live on base with him so it’s easier to take care of you.

Starts to take you on dates to get to know you. Is over the moon to discover how horny you get, offering his services at the drop of a hat. Seeing you all dressed up in nice outfits, round with his child unlocks a side of him he hadn't expected. The more obvious it becomes that you're pregnant the less you manage to leave his bed. (You'd had your own bed but Soap quickly convinced you into his).

Carries everything for you. Massages your ankles (inevitable leads to sex), gets you to wear his clothes and goddammit he will get you that pickle ice cream sandwich if its the last thing he does.

Constantly speaks to your baby bump, laying his head on your lap, warm hands cupping your belly. Towards the end of your pregnancy, the baby starts to kick every time it hears his voice.

Also Soap's trying to get you to marry him once he gets to know you a bit more, argues that it's what's best for the baby!!

And for all your future kids because Soap is obsessed with ur pregnant body and how sensitive you are. (yeah, he's so ready for you to start breastfeeding).

[ghostiequill]

Mihawk x Librarian Part 2

Since some people requested it (AHHH oh my gosh thank you for all the love <3) here's a part two :3

You’ve learned overtime how exceedingly romantic Dracule Mihawk can be

He would place his heart into your hands and do the embarrassing couple things without flinching. You want matching bright pink keychains? Sure, he’ll even buy them for you. You want to feed him in public? His eyes linger on you as he slowly takes the spoon in his mouth. 

Mihawk made sure to show off in subtle ways, his dexterity in sword fighting transferred to gracefulness when he decided that right then was the perfect time to dance to the old record in your shop after hours. He would subtly show off his muscles when you helped restock large boxes of stock, knowing you secretly admired his strength

Just because he showed off doesn’t mean he couldn’t be a gentleman. Constantly opening doors for you or offering protection in the form of an arm ghosting on the small of your back when you were out wandering the town. 

He would collect little knick knacks for you every time he came to visit. Something small but it warmed your heart to think you were on his mind so much that he thought of you when he saw these objects as you thought of him when you saw them in your shop

He would send you letters, completely unnecessary when he had your number but Mihawk was an old fashioned lover. They would always start with “To my (your name)” a sense of possessiveness, but they would always end with “yours, Dracule Mihawk”. They would be about his daily life, obviously avoiding the more violent parts, but would wax poetic about the serene view of the sea or the bustling islands he visited that he would wish for you to be there with him

That didn’t mean he didn’t love teasing you as well

Moments where he would touch your back were met with your face turning to fire, he would notice and you could barely make out a smirk. Every time his touch would linger when he would hand you something he would insist to get for you or when he would compliment your abilities, whether it be bookkeeping or a particular idea he hadn't thought about before in a book just to see you stutter and smile

You loved to talk books with him. He was shockingly insightful to the depth of the shitty romance novels that only he and you seemed to see. You would both talk for hours about the deep connection between characters and the subtle exchanges between them that would make you go insane. It reminded you of someone else in real life.

“So, did you finally finish that book I recommended? You’ve only had it for forever” you whined to him

“Oh yes sorry, I was too busy actually doing my job unlike those who just read at theirs” you could almost see his amused face on the other line

You met with his ward when he would bring you to his castle for an at home dinner date. Perona would always try to steal you away to dress you up or gossip but Mihawk was always there to make sure you weren’t overwhelmed. With just a glance in his direction your eyes could communicate what you felt

The best part of being at his castle was when after supper he would gently grasp your hand and lead you into the forest. The gentle sounds of owls hooting and crickets chirping serenaded your walk to the clearing he always brought you to to gaze at the stars. Laying down a blanket and guiding your hand to lay down, he would point out the constellations and their stories to you, waxing poetic about stories of lovers who couldn’t bear to be apart, forever entwined in the embrace of the sky. You couldn’t help but imagine what that all consuming love would feel like

Mihawk was not one to give his heart lightly, which is why you felt so special to be in this moment with him. It was during one of these moments where you were both sitting up, gazing at the universe laid out before you when you turned towards Mihawk. He was already looking at you. With your previous partners you’ve never seen such softness and devotion, but with him-he made you feel like you were floating amongst the stars, the air sucked from your lungs as the background disappeared from your view.

He glanced down at your lips before slowly bringing a calloused hand to your jaw, a hand that could bring such destruction and death but was always so careful around you. You couldn't help but lean into its warmth.

His thumb brushed over your bottom lip. “May I?” he whispered, his voice barely audible against the drumming of your own heart. You somehow managed to gain back control of your body as you nodded furiously, before you could mentally curse yourself for looking so eager, as his lips meet yours. You feel a spark of electricity as your lips connect. It was like lightning had struck you. All powerful and all consuming. Your eyes widen before they close as you lean in closer, trying to meld your bodies into one.

His lips brush your forehead before he pulls away, his touch confident but gentle as he holds both your jaw and your heart in his hands. Beneath the canopy of the stars, he envelops you in his arms and it feels like every thought, every worry disappeared as long as you were with him

[thesilmarillionblog]

𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭: 𝟖

Click here to read the first part.

Summary: You and Soldier Boy want to create a family and move on from everything, even the Vought, but you also know that he has to face Homelander one last time to keep his vow to Butcher. However, nothing turns out as you had hoped.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: light smut, angst, language, sexual tension, teasing

Word Count: 5814

A/N: English is not my first language.

Your fingertips reached out the eagle symbol as your hands moved over the hard plate on his chest while you remained seated on his lap. Soldier Boy continued to watch every move you made. As the minutes went on, his grasp on your stomach grew softer, and you started to question your ability to truly influence his thoughts over Cate and other things. You hoped you would be able to go back inside his heart and that he would be able to love you without missing the times that you were reluctant to remember.

You wanted to make things right because you felt a strong draw toward him, even if you weren't sure how.

You were cool with it if he wanted you to Temp-V so he wouldn't force your mind to surrender you to the merciless hands of another Supe. You were obviously anxious to discover your dynamics with him, but you must have done it many times with him. You were curious about how he treated you in bed. The idea heated your cheeks. 

As if sensing it, he remarked in a playful tone, “What are you thinking now?”

“Nothing,” you said. “Just us.”

Your answer warmed his heart. If he couldn't remember every detail of the times you had spent together, he would say it was deja vu. But you were back on his lap, telling him that all you could think about was him and you. You sounded precisely the same, as if you were deliberately recreating that same moment, so he wondered whether he was right to think that you were different. But all memories were forgotten, and here you were in his arms. 

You made an effort to approach him more closely than you had previously, and you inquired, “Are you okay too, though? Instead of focusing on finding Cate and forcing me to recall things, considering extending my time.”

He said, “On one condition.” His hands seemed softer now, like if he could pull them back at any second. 

“I already accepted taking that thing you mentioned, Temp-V.”

“There is one more,” he said with determination. His expression was serious. 

“What now?” You sighed. He was constantly asking something more.

“If you can't remember a single thing in a month, you will agree to get help from Cate.”

You instantly said, “No way!” and were irate that he hadn't even given you six months. You had doubts; he cared about your feelings much. “You're being cruel. Let me have four months.”

With a tone of rage, “Fuck no,” Soldier Boy tightened his hold on your body. “One and a half.”

You sighed, seeing how quickly he was growing furious. “You're asking too much from me, you know.” There was something different about his rage. 

“How it's too much when I want the woman I loved to come back to me.”

The way he utilized the past tense made your body tense. Your mood fell as you realized that, despite your best efforts, there was still some distance between you. Your palms touched the eagle symbol on his chest and then went gently down to the belt, which had a star symbol on it. Soldier Boy felt regret after realizing what he had just said, but instead of offering an apology, he said nothing that would have made you feel even worse. 

You were reaching out to him, and he was reaching out to you, but your efforts were going in separate directions. Why did he find it so difficult to accept you as you are? Was the difference between the old and new you really that much? You questioned if you were really that annoying.

You muttered, “Give me three months then,” without responding to what he had just said. There was a hint of disappointment in your voice. It was difficult to control how you were feeling.

With annoyance, Soldier Boy examined your face and inhaled deeply. “One and a half. That's all I will give. Discussion is over.”

“No.”

“For God's sake,” he murmured in frustration. You began to become enraged with him for his impatient manner since he was being so persistent. At least he could acknowledge some of your decisions while you were being so kind, even if he didn't like your new version.

You scowled and tried to get to your feet to break free of his hold, but his hands stopped you with ease. Soldier Boy drew you closer to his body with a serious look, saying, “Stop moving.”

You placed your hands on his shoulders and said, “You stop being a stubborn asshole.” Then, with a rapid motion that brought your body even closer to his, you gasped, “Ow!” as his iron belt hurt your stomach.

Soldier Boy instantly released his hold on you. His expression was one of perplexity, as though he hadn't realized what he was doing. You questioned how you managed to stay with him for so long given how harsh he was and had such a temper. 

“Language.” With a hint of irritation in his tone, he playfully responded, “Show some respect to your man. That's what happens when you don't listen to me.” He replaced your body back on his lap. He looked over your stomach and raised your t-shirt a little higher to see if you were hurt. It burned a bit, but there was just a slight scretch. 

For a split second, you felt like a foolish young girl because of your excitement at his remarks. “I wonder how I survived with you,” you muttered once more as you stopped physically battling with him. Soldier Boy's fingers lightly touched the small mark on your stomach, giving him a disappointed expression, yet his expression was serious on the other side. “I should have been with a regular man who would respect my choices.”

He got frustrated that you brought up being with another man instead of him and remarked, “Watch your mouth,” as he let your t-shirt fall in a rough manner. “Respect the decisions you've made? A man is a pathetic and useless pussy who can't fix anything if he just lets go of everything when his woman experiences memory loss.”

“Or?” you said, trying to lighten the mood by lightly teasing him. While you were still on his lap talking to him about your future together, you realized it wouldn't be a good idea to argue with him. “And I'm not something to be fixed. You must know how thick your skull is.”

With a little smile, he studied your face and body till your cheeks reddened. You tried to get away from him slightly, but he held on closely. You stiffened up as his fingertips continued to linger on your skin and gently moved into your t-shirt. 

“What were you saying? Now, what happened? Do you need me to remind you of the other thick parts of my body that you found most pleasing?” Soldier Boy inquired, a sly smile playing on his lips. It was apparent that he was enjoying your response to him. You could feel the hardness of him beneath his suit as he rubbed your body against it. His mouth was so dirty that it made your cheeks flush crimson.

You whispered, “Don't change the subject,” without saying anything more. Your pussy had other plans, even though you tried not to stare at his massive member beneath you. “Will you allow me enough time? Four months seems like a reasonable amount of time.”

“No way.” He said it in a more controlled manner this time. You knew he was briefly looking at your body as his hands and fingers caressed your skin and held you tightly to his body. There was desire in his eyes; you could tell that.

Instead of disturbing you, though, it unexpectedly thrilled you. It seemed as though there was a magnetic pull between you or that your bodies were attempting to reunite in a more intimate manner. 

“That would be enough, and it benefits you the most,” you said. 

He arched an eyebrow at your refusal, chuckling. “In what ways will it benefit me?” Then Soldier Boy took a serious attitude, although it was clear that he was amused by your attempts. 

You stated, “If I don't love you back the way I had loved you in the past, you can tell my emotions were fake or something.” Even though you knew it was a cheap move, you still felt like you had to try it. 

The look on Soldier Boy's face shifted, as if he gave it some real thought. You might sense there was a brief moment of little lack of confidence if you didn't know how much he knew about himself. Nonetheless, he was undoubtedly the most attractive and powerful Super. 

“I know you love me already, and when you said you did, you said it sincerely.” There was no debate after his sharp remarks. “It doesn't matter if you remember or not.”

You dared to challenge him even though it wasn't a smart move. “How can you be so sure, and why so stubborn if it doesn't matter?”

“Because I can tell when you are lying. They are not the same thing,” he replied. 

With a cunning appearance on his lips, he watched you cautiously as your hands slid gently over his suit. You could have chuckled at how patient he was now, in spite of his intolerance only moments before, if you hadn't felt his hardness beneath you. 

You posed a lighthearted question, “Can I change your mind a bit?” You wanted him to be unconscious of how much this was fun for you, but you both were into playing a little. There was an overpowering need for discovering your balance with him. 

Your hands returned to his shoulders after carefully grazing each and every inch of his suit. As he stared at you and did nothing except hold you close, you felt a kind of joy emerge in your chest. Soldier Boy was the one who was closest to you and was willing to let you do everything you wanted to do him, even though you had known Butcher and the other guys for a very long time. You knew it was different with him.

“I'm not sure. You have to give it a try,” Soldier Boy grumbled, returning his hands to your hips. “You must know I'm not very easy to convince.”

“I see that,” you winked at him. At least you knew just how stubborn he was without needing your memories to return. However, you were equally determined about pursuing what you wanted. 

Soldier Boy couldn't resist chuckling when he saw how much you were already enjoying. For a little while, you felt as though you knew him as well as he knew you, and everything between you was normal. 

You said, almost in a whisper, “I want to bargain,” shifting slightly on him despite the fact that your cheeks were burning. If he acted more stubbornly and pushed you away, you would be quite embarrassed. 

To your astonishment, though, his hands kept stroking your hips—only more forcefully this time. Instead of harming you, he was once again showing his dominance to you. 

When you noticed he was considering it, you asked again, your cheeks heated, and you started to move on him a little. “Can we negotiate?” 

“Yeah,” he murmured, seemingly disconnected from what you had to say, and instead he stared at your body. 

That's when Soldier Boy turned to look at you. His eyes were staring at you intensely. You trusted him when he said he missed you. You were there with him, comfortably seated on his lap. You weren't uncomfortable or anything even a day ago. It just felt right to be with him.

Soldier Boy smirked and gave you a quick ass squeeze. “Show me what you can do to convince me,” he urged. Although your eyes became wide, you were determined not to allow Cate to touch you and fuck your brain's balance. 

You weren't sure how far you would go without Temp-V at the time, and you didn't know how much he would go far. You had at first wanted to speak with Butcher. But there has to be a way to get him interested enough. 

You shifted slightly on his lap, one hand caressing his neck and hair, the other gently touching his huge bisceps. Your lips parted in surprise and desire as you felt his erection under you. Even though you had both stated that you were not interested in having sex before you remembered him, here you were, unable to get your hands off of one another as if you were meant to be together forever. 

You remained motionless, yet your lips were almost in contact. All you could do was stare into his eyes. He continued to hold you, the mock on his lips disappearing as his hold on your hips grew stronger and stronger. 

“How about...” you muttered. “Four months?” 

“Fuck no,” he responded, giving you a firm squeeze to move on him. 

To give you adequate space, Soldier Boy widened his legs a little. As you moved, you could feel his hands tightening around your thighs and his breathing becoming heavier. The strength difference between you made you a little uneasy, but you would have told him the moment his touch began to hurt. 

He suddenly said in a stern voice, “I should have fucked you on that table,” urging you to continue. Although there was quite a barrier between you and his pants, it didn't stop you from getting pleasure. 

Your body and cheeks became flushed from embarrassment, but you persisted and stated, “Give me four months.” 

You could never have agreed to let some other Supe get near you and screw your mind even more. 

You gasped in shock when Soldier Boy ignored what you had said and put a firm grasp on one of your tits through your t-shirt. He had hands all over the place. By the end, you weren't sure if you would be the one to get what you wanted. All of his focus was on his own needs.

“Feel how much you still make me hard, baby,” he muttered on your neck, pressing you on his stiff cock more thoroughly. “We haven't been this way in a very long time. I've so fucking missed watching you move on my cock.”

Longing was present in his final words, along with a lot of yearning. Though you tried to dismiss it and concentrate on the present, you couldn't help but feel a type of sadness tightening in your chest. Though you hoped you missed him just as much as he did, you showed no signs of this feeling. It seemed as though you had never separated. 

At that moment, you found yourself willing to play the game he needed.

In an attempt to give him what he truly desired from you, you hesitated before placing one of your hands on his and making him squeeze your ass firmly. 

“How much did you miss me?” you asked, meeting his gaze directly. Though your lips met his, it was not a kiss. His lips and touch were warm. 

It would be great if you knew his name, but though you tried so hard, you could not recall. You hoped that you had forgotten Butcher's instead.

Soldier Boy's lips began to lick your neck and throat. “So fucking much,” he moaned. It was evident from the way he moved underneath you that this was making him harder than before. 

Between gasps, you proceeded, encouraged by his reaction to your touch and words, “Will you give me four months?” His grip on your hips began to ache a little, but you bit your lip to keep the moment from being ruined until you had what you wanted.

He groaned, “Don't stop,” as soon as he noticed you were moving on him more slowly. His finger was lingering around your trousers and giving you little bruises. You tense up, thinking he's going to rip them off, so you tried to get the speed that Soldier Boy needed.

“You did give me a good hand job there, didn't you?” He let out a moan as you struggled to maintain the same pace. You made an effort to loosen his hold somewhat with your hand, but he didn't seem to be listening. 

“Given how long it's been, you would let me fuck you raw right now, wouldn't you? Wouldn't you allow me to fully fill your tight pussy and fuck you from behind till you can't move?” You eventually whimpered as Soldier Boy tightened his grasp on your hips and murmured into your ear. 

“Careful!” His hot kisses on your neck were so passionate and intimate that you felt yourself losing yourself in the moment with him as you moaned in pain and stroked his hands to calm him. 

He said, “I'm not even using force; relax,” as if he were at the end of his tolerance. It was impossible to determine if he was very aroused or enraged. Most likely, he had no idea how powerful he was. You came to the realization that using Temp-V was a wise decision. It was risky to be with a supe like him since you never knew if he was aware of what he was doing. 

His lips captured yours with desire, allowing you to slow down and ultimately release his hands from your hips without allowing you to say anything more. You felt a bit more at ease once he released your hips. 

You said, “We need to calm down,” in between kisses. You gave him softer, more tender kisses in return for his fierce, heated ones. It was absurd that you felt safe getting closer to a man you had only met the day before.

Soldier Boy was not your boyfriend; he was a stranger in fact. Someone you couldn't remember. But your heart knew the right path. 

He moaned, “Can't get my hands off of you,” kissing you this time with care and desire. “Fuck, I need to be inside you right now.”

“But I didn't take Temp-V,” you murmured hurriedly. It was difficult for you to make predictions as to how you did it because you couldn't recall your private moments with him.

“So?” Not sure what you were hinting at, Soldier Boy stated in a querying tone.

You muttered, “I don't know,” struggling to find the right words. “How.. we used to do it.”

“Do what?” he repeated, but this time he was smirking.

You stopped him and said, “Don't act like an asshole,” but his rough hands were already on your hips once more.

He kissed you hard and briefly in between talking about your attitude, saying, “The first thing you must remember is that'respect' for sure. And yes, we did it many times without Temp-V or anything else.”

You've been rubbing yourself against him and quietly panting. You just whispered, “Hmm.”

Once more, Soldier Boy gained complete control over your body and forced you to rub up against him while murmuring, “You wouldn't believe how many times I've fucked you without Temp-V.”

As gentle fingers ran through your hair, you muttered, “Was it good enough for you?”

“Perfect,” Soldier Boy responded with honesty.

“Protection?” you asked once again. It was difficult to comprehend what kind of power imbalance there might be between you and Soldier Boy during such times. He wasn't even aware how hard he grasped your hips until you warned him. 

“No,” to make it short, Soldier Boy's brought your body as close as his as he possibly could. You scowled as you saw his expression change. His voice had lost its tone of amusement and had become harsh. 

“Why?” 

“I'm a supe. There's no way I... could get you pregnant. Our DNA's are built differently.” Oh. 

Expressing verbally, a sort of rage entered Soldier Boy's heart. He couldn't recall the last time he had given an explanation for his inability to complete something. Even if he didn't intend to have children at that moment, it hurt his pride as a man to be unable to get you pregnant. He repeatedly filled you in a single day and continued to do so for months, but you were never able to conceive.

You said, “Okay,” in a whisper. Though he had made it plain, he did not explicitly state that the reason was that you were weaker than him. You were unable to overcome the anguish that was around your heart like a glass.

You couldn't stop thinking if the person you used to be had any plans to have a baby with him. You were startled that the thought didn't even slightly worry you as your mind raced with images of you, Soldier Boy, and a tiny baby. On the contrary, it kind of excited you. But it looks like the concept would remain a far-off fantasy that wouldn't ever come to pass. 

“So,” you began, hoping to get the conversation to go somewhere else. Your hands hesitantly touched his chest, then his iron belt, making contact with the star sign. “How about our negotiation?”

“Two months,” he said emphatically, as if nothing could make him reconsider at that very moment. 

If you weren't sitting on his lap while he stared at you longingly and with anticipation, you would have giggled at his inflexibility. You wanted to take some time and give it your all, even though you were aware of his earlier statements that he wouldn't love you in this way. 

You reached between his legs with your hands down. You could feel him tensing beneath you as your palms found his hardness through his jeans. He began to loosen his hold on your body when it became too tight since he clearly didn't want to harm you. 

“Two months is not enough,” you told him, lightly stroking his hardened cock with your palm against his trousers. 

With a swift moment, Soldier Boy shifted your positions and with an escaped gasp on your lips, you were under him, on the bed. He gently pushed your hair from your face and placed himself between your legs. Your eyes widened with surprise as he took your hand and put on his cock, making you to rub him through his pants.

Neglecting your words, Soldier Boy said, “Take it out.” He was already waiting for you to do something. “Now.”

Excitement flooded your body, so you followed his orders. After giving him a few more rubs to torment him, you unzipped his pants very slowly to get him more thrilled, though messing with a Supe wasn't a smart idea. 

“I thought you didn't want to touch me until I remembered everything,” you stated. “Why did you say it if you didn't mean it?”

“I decided to change my opinion, and why not? We used to bang five times in a row,” he snapped back. He truly never felt embarrassed over anything. Your body became hot when you attempted to figure out how you could take him so many times. 

You whispered, blushing at his bold remarks, “Don't you have a filter on your mouth?”

Soldier Boy said in your ear, “You should hear me when I'm inside you, swetheart,” as you finally succeeded in unipping his pants with trembling hands. You couldn't help but notice the longing on his face, his messy hair, and his hot breath. He was terribly good-looking and masculine. 

With a slight roughness in his voice, he thrust his hips toward your hand and seemed eager to continue. 

“Are you thinking about how much time you'll give me?” You inquired lightly, refusing to take him out of his suit no matter how many times he ordered you to continue. Soldier Boy shot you a cold stare right after. 

“Depends.” 

“On?” 

“Your little handiwork performance,” he stated with a brief smile that offered you his desire. 

With a hesitant smile back, your hands started to work on his pants to remove him. It was a play that you were both on. You two knew what was happening probably made you more thrilled than he was, and he would stop whenever you wanted him to, so it wasn't like he was pressuring you into doing anything you didn't want to. That was ingrained in your bones and feelings. 

You struggled to free him from his suit and were a little afraid of seeming foolish. Once some time had passed, you gave him a helpless glance. All Soldier Boy did was smirk mischievously over you. 

You said, “You could give a hand,” as your hands were a little aggressive on the material. 

“I thought that was what you're going to do.”

You surprised yourself by pulling his head to yourself and kissing him, refusing to let him torture you any longer. Thank goodness, Soldier Boy responded to your kisses instantly, and it didn't take long for his to take control and start making coarse noises within your mouth. 

You had no idea who was making louder noises or which of you was kissing each other harder. You were just aware that he was pressing you against the bed. He pulled back, allowing you a moment to catch your breath. During that moment, his lips remained on your neck, giving you a few gentle nibbles that left you whimpering.

You could feel the desire between your legs as Soldier Boy's hands frantically tugged at his clothes to get himself free. You were unsure if he would take you there.

Your phone rang in your pocket, and you realized that he was about to pull his cock out of his pants. As Soldier Boy was ready to pull down his pants, he grumbled in displeasure and halted, ignoring the phone ringing in your pocket. 

With a frantic “Oh, wait,” you attempted to shove his body away. 

Then Soldier Boy quickly took the phone from your pocket and glared at the screen with enraged eyes before letting you react. He stood up, leaving you on the bed by yourself, still gasping after the passionate interaction you had. You could tell who was calling by the way he looked across the room—it seemed like he was waiting for the right opportunity to enrage Soldier Boy even more. 

“You're a dead man,” muttered Soldier Boy as he held the phone up to his ear. “You and your worthless team.” Though it was barely audible, his voice was full of promise. 

Whispering, “Give it to me,” you hastily rose from the bed and attempted to take your phone from Soldier Boy's hands. 

It was obvious that Butcher was getting on Soldier Boy's nerves, even if you could only make out some of what he was saying. Butcher always had an ability of getting under people's skin. 

“How many lies you've told her, I don't know, but one thing is certain. You and your pitiful pets had best hide out in whatever shithole you are now in, because I'm going to kill you all.”

Soldier Boy eventually handed you the phone, ignoring everything Butcher was saying to him. As you waited for Butcher to speak, your pulse raced with thoughts and confusion, but you were at your breaking point. 

“I've called you a hundred times since yesterday,” you immediately complained. It was clear from your voice that you were disappointed. 

You paced the room, ignoring Soldier Boy as he observed you intently and zipped back his pants and straightened his suit. 

“We needed to exercise caution since he managed to catch you. Are you alright?” Butcher questioned it as if it were a common question. You were getting tired of his insensitive attitude already. 

You answered him harshly, “I need to talk to you in private,” ignoring his question.

“This is not the place for you to come. Sweetie, you'd put us all in danger.”

It was difficult to ignore the awful weight of rejection from someone who you still called friend and remembered with a heavy heart. You were aware that, for the most part, Soldier Boy was being truthful at that point. You were dumbstruck at how easily Butcher cast you aside while continuing to discuss safety.

“In somewhere else, of course,” you remarked coldly. “He will not follow me.”

You looked at Soldier Boy to see how he responded, but he was already seated and preoccupied with smoking weed aggressively across the room. Even though he occasionally sent you glares, you wanted to think he wouldn't break his promise to you. 

“Don't be so sure, honey,” Butcher sighed, unsure of how to handle the situation without putting the squad at risk by speaking with you. 

You said, emphasizing every syllable, “He's treating me good. We can meet in the house we all used to live in. I'll go there by myself. Alone.”

Butcher said, “Fine,” not wanting to talk about it any more. “Make sure you come here by yourself, baby,” he asked. Butcher owed you a conversation, even if he wasn't eager to meet you or risk running into Soldier Boy again when he really intended to kill him that much. Especially not after what he had done to both of you.

Of course, there were other topics to talk about.

Feeling relieved that he finally agreed, Butcher informed you when to meet and hang up without saying anything else. You were far too hurt to talk with him without coming out as fragile. After standing for a while staring at the screen of your phone and doing nothing, you turned to face Soldier Boy, who had already begun to drink. Then he looked at you. It was difficult to determine this time if his expression was one of hatred or rage. It was unclear if it was directed against Butcher, you, or both. 

You muttered, “I need to talk to him alone,” which gave you nothing to talk about. It was too much for you to handle.

You felt lost and alone once again.

Soldier Boy said, “Come here,” in a quiet voice. He sighed, seeing your mood drop and your smile fade. He detested seeing you so distressed and heartbroken. It would be simpler if you could just remember, but you were terrified. He couldn't figure out why.

Soldier Boy made you sit on his lap once again and gave you a tight embrace as if he could see what you were going through. Your head was on the cool material of his suit, where the eagle emblem was supposed to be. His warmth was relaxing and soothing.

You said, “He wants me to go to him alone,” hoping that he wouldn't provoke another argument once more.

Surprising you, he simply said, “Okay.”

“Just because I'm not going there with you for this time doesn't mean I won't murder him,” Soldier Boy firmly said, “He will pay for what he did to both of us. He and the others will die for that.”

You wanted nothing bad to happen to Butcher or the others, in spite of all that he had done to you. You knew you would never stay with Butcher again the moment he accepted the lies he'd told you. It did not, however, imply that you wanted his or the others' deaths. The only thing that would be lost would be trust, and that would be enough price.

You stated, “I don't want to talk about this right now,” implying that you didn't want to discuss Butcher or anybody else. You felt his muscles tense beneath your touch, so you decided it wouldn't be a good idea to tell Soldier Boy that you didn't want Butcher to die. 

He kissed your hair, and you closed your eyes with relief. He murmured, “Fine,” with a soothing voice. His roughness didn't make his arms and kisses seem unsafe.

You said, “But I can't stay here too,” keeping in mind that you would have had to see the Seven, Homelander, and their heinous deeds every day. The idea itself was dreadful. “I don't want anything related to the Seven or Vought.”

Soldier Boy inhaled deeply and remembered the last night you spent together, months ago, when everything was okay. At least your hatred for Vought and Homelander did not change. That was good enough. Although he too had no desire to interact with them, he was forced to do so due to the circumstances. For the time being. 

He continued, “We'll talk about such things later,” in a harsh voice, his hands lightly brushing your back as though he were trying to comfort you. 

“Where will I be staying?”

Soldier Boy scowled at your thoughts of living alone. “Obviously, not here.” As if he would let you go. 

With pride, he declared, “I own a place. We’ll stay there.” Though it didn't, it would have been preferable if things had gone as you two had hoped months ago. He wished he had purchased a house while you still remembered him. He would like to see your reaction.

You inhaled with gratitude upon learning that you would not be residing in Vought Tower. You could tolerate this as long as you didn't encounter Homelander and everyone. You were aware that Soldier Boy wouldn't allow you to go elsewhere, apart from him. Whatever had occurred or would happen, you had to confront it.

“Have you thought about the amount of time you'll give me?”

Soldier Boy took another look at the problem and groaned at your intransigent demeanor. He said, “Two and a half months,” playing with your hair and curling it with his fingers. “Not a single day more.”

“Make it three.”

“You are always greedy, aren't you?” He teased to lighten your mood. “Fuck it. Fine.”

“Will you tell me your name?” You asked in a low voice, realizing that you had never addressed him by name and recalling how disappointed he was when you couldn't recall it. You forced yourself to recall it till your brain hurt, but it was just impossible. You felt horrible about not being able to recall even one letter. 

You said, “Jack?” in an attempt to predict what he was going to say before he did. “Kevin? Eric?” 

“Fuck, quit saying other men names. Who the fuck are they?” He abruptly became irate and cut you off; jealousy was clearly taking over. 

“I don't know anyone with those names.” You said, playing with his possessive gaze as you raised your head to look at him. “Are you jealous?” 

“I am,” he declared firmly. The roughness in his tone made you giggle.

“You can forget everything—my face, my name, and even our memories—but you never forget that you are solely mine. You belong to me in your every version.”

Next Chapter

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[fremiinetistic]

Might need to hear about the Kaveh and fremi being brothers thing ngl you can't give me that and let me go crazy

I've been waiting for an excuse for this paragraph to move up on the list Here is why I believe Freminet and Kaveh are brothers Kaveh's mother, Faranak visited Fontaine Kaveh enrolled in the Akademiya to help " ease her soul a little" from his fathers death, eventually she was offered a job there which led to her moving there. Sometime after Kaveh's graduation she had a wedding in which he attended "she wrote that she had found someone to whom she could entrust the rest of her life, and as such was going to remarry in Fontaine. It was this news that she would, with great trepidation and expectation, relate to her only relative." "Kaveh wrote back and congratulated her, and would even go to Fontaine to take part in the wedding. It was a simple affair, and only a few guests were present. Seeing his mother smile once more" After the wedding it's said that "his mother would leave all her property in Sumeru to him. Three days later, he would return to Sumeru, and once again felt the terror of the empty home" meaning she decided to move their permanently and after a while he lost contact with her. It doesn't really make sense that she wouldn't contact him again seeing as she cared for Kaveh dearly, its said that in a mistake where Kaveh as a child drew his first blueprint and put it in a pile with hers and she ended up accidentally giving it to a client instead of being mad she taught him how to make a proper one. "She didn't scold me about it in private, though. Instead, she went over all the steps required to draw a good blueprint, and was very patient throughout the whole process. I still remember it like it was yesterday." It does however make sense if you connect Freminet's lore to it Freminet was born to an unnamed mother and an unnamed father in Fleuve Cendre, a region in Fontaine. It is said that his father had a major debt and left his mother sometime after they married to deal with it. "Freminet never met his own father, but he heard from his mother that the man was knee-deep in debt. He had little idea what all these numbers meant, and they were as hard for the little boy to conceive as a dinner in the Palais Mermonia. " The debt lead to Freminet being given away and her being killed when he was a young child. ""Father" told Freminet that his mother hadn't abandoned him, but on the contrary, had acted to protect him...

That year, the debt that his family owed finally reached the point where they would no longer be able to repay it. Those greedy moneylenders had not only forced Freminet's mother to hand over the house that they lived in, but had also demanded that she hand over Freminet as well. But she was his mother — how could she let this happen? In the end, she had no choice but to entrust Freminet to "that orphanage" — somewhere they could never get at him — and then face them alone.

"This was all I found. As for your mother..." As she looked at the young boy in front of her, still gripping the pendant tightly in his hands, "Father" trailed off and left the ensuing silence to speak for her."

It makes sense she would drop contact if she /had/ no choice. It is said his mother "worked from dawn till dusk, day in day out." which left him alone most of the time, and wouldn't give her a lot of time to send a letter to Kaveh. Especially because she ended up dying. A question that someone could ask is "Why wouldn't she tell Kaveh that she was going to be killed?" Well not only did she still work constantly before her eventual death but also she wouldn't want to burden her son with the knowledge that his mother whom he had lost contact with years before had died, ignorance is bliss I suppose. Other things would be "and seeing Freminet's innocent face light up with pure joy, a rare smile broke out on his mother's, too." Kaveh's character story 2 says this about his mom: "after his passing, she would never again smile." They both have robotic companions "..Pers? No, Pers is more like family to me. We grew up together... No, I'm serious. I'm always tinkering with it to add more functionality... " "Page 115: Suitcase design draft. Postscript: "Mehrak is an ancient word, one I have used as the name for this suitcase. It means 'little light.' More than anything, I hope it really can understand what I'm saying.""

Their mother both played an important role in their current job (semi job for Freminet he doesn't really.. get paid its more of his role) "One day, when his mother returned home, she suddenly heard a strange noise that stopped her in her tracks. It was the sound of their clock, which Freminet had unwittingly fixed, ticking away almost as if to celebrate the new lease on life he had given it. She caressed his head and praised him, filling his heart with joy. But when he woke up the following morning, the clock was nowhere to be found. When his mother came home that evening, she brought him two slices of a type of bread he'd never had before. He still remembers the taste to this day. From that day forth, his mother brought back all kinds of different devices for him — everything from clockwork toys to miniature clocks. Freminet liked his new friends a lot, and would spend a long time "waking" them from their slumber, even though they always vanished the following day."

"while his mother had graduated from Kshahrewar, and much as he would become later in life, she too was a famous architect. Influenced by them, Kaveh was interested in architectural design from a young age. They would sit in the living room as he sat at home playing with the block puzzles they had bought for him." " "Oh, and this blueprint... Haha, I made it by copying my mother's sketch, and the aspect ratio was horrendous. It's still technically the first blueprint I made myself, though." " Also they're both known for their engineering/mechanics which is a given because of their jobs/hobbies.

Both their visions are on the same hip

Both of their constellations are birds that represent them

Their descriptions are similar

+ Also similar

they both are considered sensitive

[ddejavvu]

mei, dbf!anakin??? i have no ideas but i just wanted to bring this thought to your attention because GOD just dilf!anakin period i am foaming at the mouth

please oh my god send me dbf!anakin shit

disclaimer of course: reader is over 18 // minors dni

dbf!anakin bums around your house constantly. he's not some wildly successful businessman like you often see in dbf aus, dbf!anakin is just a guy who works at the auto shop and has for thirty years. he lives in a shitty apartment and probably won't ever move, he wears wife beaters constantly, and lounges on your couch with beers that he steals from your dad. you shouldn't be attracted to any part of him, he's often rude/callous and he eats through your fridge like he's paying rent. but you're so attracted to every part of him; there is something undeniably hot about the way he watches you like a hawk when you get home from your shift at the restaurant you work at, smelling like grease in the teeniest tiniest little skirt/apron combo.

you take your shoes off and he asks you how your day was, and you tell him that some man at the counter slipped you his number with a $20 tip. all of a sudden anakin's face is dark and he's sneering against the mouth of his beer bottle as he takes a bitter swig, muttering something about how creepy those perverts that swarm to your restaurant are, as if he wasn't just eye-fucking your thighs beneath the hem of your uniform two seconds ago.

there's an old sitcom droning on from the television that's the only light in the room; you'd had a closing shift and it's past midnight. everyone else is asleep in the house and you should be too, but you let anakin coax you onto the couch beside him to watch tv. he was laying across the entire thing but he hauls himself up to sprawl out and manspread on one end, leaving you a very clear and small space beside him to squeeze into. his arm is already around the back of the couch before you sit down, and you catch a whiff of beer when you lean into his side before you settle into your seat.

'other than the loser' anakin drawls, his voice tantalizingly close to your ear, his breath hitting the side of your face, 'how was work?'

'okay', you hum, almost holding your breath with how thrilled you are to be nearly in his lap on the couch, 'i stood in the kitchen for so long i'll probably smell like shit for days.'

the last thing you're expecting him to do in response is press his nose into your head. he just leans forward and buries his nose in your hair, inhaling and humming as he decides whether you need a shower.

It's almost ticklish but it's mainly just overwhelming, the man you definitely should not have a fat gross crush on is smearing his face into your own, and his nose trails even further as he uses the hand wrapped around the back of the sofa to grab your head and tilt it sideways, offering him access to your neck.

'anakin!' you gush, trying to keep a giggly waver out of your voice that would give you away, 'don't, i smell like sweat!'

'mmm, i know,' he laughs with his grin pressed against the flushed skin of your shoulder, lifting his head back up with tousled hair from where it had mingled with your own. he turns back to the tv with a sly grin like he hadn't just set you on fire, hand now resting over your shoulder instead of the back of the couch, 'you smell great, sweetheart.'

[ryverbind]

Faceless Fixation (Sal Fisher): High Ground [27]

"Woah," A hand catches my elbow, clutching tightly to support my weight so I don't fall-- like my body was clearly planning to do. "Careful."

I sigh shakily, trying to ignore the raspy, mumbled words and the touch of his skin on mine-- especially the reminder of his first remorseful words to me months ago.

Sal releases my arm, lets his hand hover near my body for a moment before returning to helping me and Larry put my drum kit back together.

I bite down on my lips as I tighten a couple things and decide that Larry will take over the job of situating the kick drum because I clearly can't do it myself without threatening to fall on my ass. And given the fact that I'm being forced into close proximity with Sal right now, I'd prefer to not give him any reasons to touch me.

It doesn't help at all that I barely managed to stuff the necklace he gave Lexi into my pocket before he could see. He passed right by it while we were packing at my old apartment-- I thought I'd fucking faint. 

After Nate left that night, I tried to throw it away, forget about the damn guitar pick, but... I just couldn't. Something about it felt so sacred. It was the one good moment I had with him and some sick part of me wanted to hold onto that.

But now I regret ever tucking it away under a ton of clothes in my dresser drawer. I should've chucked it into the fuck it bucket. I don't want reminders of the person he never truly was.

I don't like Sal. I don't know what I was thinking the other night. Nate's insane.

I've had time to think about it and to grow absolutely petrified by the concept. How can I feel something if I'm terrified of it? That's proof enough for me. I was just too high that night.

And it's definitely not like I'm avoiding Sal now or anything. I'm doing great! He's helping with unpacking my things... even though I was the one who begged Ash not to invite him.

She offered up the idea last night after we finally finished unpacking everything in Larry and Sal's home. I was hoping that, since we finished our part, I would finally be able to catch a break from his presence. I can't explain the way my heart dropped when she said the boys would get here in the morning.

Given how difficult setting up this kit is though, maybe she realized what I couldn't. And maybe I just need to suck up all of these difficult emotions and just... get over it.

Ash had frowned at me last night and said something that made me realize I'm probably going insane.

"You know he thinks of you as a friend, right?" She'd said, putting her phone down to talk to me seriously. "You two still bicker, but I think it's because that's your dynamic. Other than that, he's changed around you and that alone says he cares to some degree."

I hadn't responded. I still don't know how I'd respond.

But given that Sal mentioned just a couple days ago, as we were packing up my things, something about us being friends... I've been thinking that Ash may be right. I considered him my friend up until that moment too. I had been thinking about how much our relationship had changed, especially during our trip to Nockfell.

Now, though, I feel like I've reverted backward. Even farther back than when we were constantly arguing. I've gone back to how things were before I even met him. I haven't said a word to him all day today.

There's an ominous crack beneath my fingers that makes me pause. I suddenly realize that I've tightened something way too much... a bolt. and I've damaged it in the process. Great.

Larry appears through the gaps in the instrument in front of me, his brows drawn together. "Damn, y/n. You good?" He asks, deep voice filled with concern.

Sighing, I plop into a sitting position, giving my calves a rest after leaning on my haunches for so long. "Yea, just distracted," I murmur, pinching the bridge of my nose. "I'm going run to a store to buy a new bolt. This one's fucked."

"Maybe you should rest first," Larry offers. I look up at him, noting a raised eyebrow this time and a small frown adorning his lips. "Seems like you have a lot on your mind."

I swallow thickly, knowing Sal is hearing every second of this being that he's just three feet away from me.

"Yea," I try to agree in a spritely manner, but my voice comes out hoarse instead. I clear my throat and try again. "Yea, I guess I'll... rest. You guys should, um, take a break too."

Larry waves me off, his face moving a way from the gap and being replaced by the top of his chest. "Nah, we've got this! Your task for now is to chill. No if's, and's, or but's."

I roll my eyes, my lips twitching in a smile that I try to stomp down. "Yes, sir," I reply sarcastically before standing to my feet. Damn, my back aches.

I try to stop myself, my mind and heart trapped in an endless, opposing battle as my gaze snaps to Sal. He's on one knee, the other propped up and his head tilted at what seems like an awkward, uncomfortable angle to look at something underneath my snare.

I squeeze my eyes shut and speed-walk to the door when a dull flutter lights up my chest at the sight of him. "Thanks, guys," I say quickly before slipping out of the room.

I walk leisurely down the hallway, trying to rid myself of the tingling sensation on my skin where Sal held me. As much as I love the hidden, forbidden moments when he touches me, the remnants make me itch. There's some part of me that's cowering in a corner, captured by fear and I don't know how to conquer it.

Sal already has his own issues going on with this woman who hurt him. It feels cruel to put a rift between us because I have my own problems too now. I don't know what to do, which causes my mind to drift to darker places, think different things. Like... maybe I should end things between us.

When I walk past our kitchen and into the living room, the first thing I see is Ash sitting criss-cross on the floor with a building manual beside her, a half-put together IKEA TV stand, and, funny enough, Nate's screw drive limply hanging from her hand as she reads.

The warm, afternoon light splashes onto Ash's angelic form from our large windows that cover a huge portion of our living room, allowing plenty of natural sunlight in. The sun's rays cascade down Ash's hair, illuminating the brown strands and causing a deep, sparkling red undertone to shine through.

She's just so pretty. Every one of her angles is the right one.

I walk over to her and look down at the manual. "How's the building going?" I ask. My voice makes her snap her head up to look at me. The light catches her viridian eyes and I can't help but marvel at the beauty captured in he gaze. "Need any help?"

She smiles at me, her expression softening upon realizing it's me beside her. "Nah, I think I've got it!" She says cheerily, flipping the screwdriver in her hand. "Why aren't you setting up your drums with the boys."

I purse my lips at the reminder. "I broke something," I murmur bashfully. "Need to get a new part, so that's where I'm headed. Probably."

Ash's brows furrow in surprise and she reels back to look at me better. "You broke something? You, of all people?" She blinks, eyebrows raising now as the confirmation settles. "Well, that would make sense. We're all stressed with the move and whatnot." She waves the screwdriver and moves to return to her building, but she pauses.

Unease boils deep inside my skin as I watch the gears begin to turn in her mind. She turns back to me with her eyes narrowed and continues, suspicion and disbelief tainting her voice. "Unless..." she starts, tilting her head. "You're avoiding Sal."

I cringe, pressing a finger to my lips to hopefully silence my friend. Gosh, this genuinely could not be worse. I feel like I'm gonna puke.

"I'm not avoiding him!" I whisper-yell to Ash, eyes practically bulging out of my head.

"Says the one who asked me not to invite him over this morning." She puts her hands on her hips and gives me a no-bullshit look.

I sigh deeply, scrunch up my nose in complete distaste-- in myself, of course. I shouldn't have been so obvious. Arguing about it isn't going to convince Ash otherwise and it won't change that her assumption is true either.

I open my mouth to tell her that that's not what matters, but she beats me to it.

The woman leans her head back and screams Sal's name at the top of her lungs.

I nearly jump out of my skin, my eyes widening when the impending doom of Ash making Sal and I talk or-- worse-- spend time together settles into my bones.

I hear a muffled curse, a laugh to follow, and then a door shutting down the hall. For fuck's sake.

Sal walks into the living room, stopping at the threshold with his arms gestured offensively at Ash. "What?" he scowls.

The beauty beside me rolls her eyes at Sal's attitude while I turn away from him, my cheeks catching fire. I hate all of this.

"You should go shopping with y/n," Ash chirps, ignoring the fact that she just summoned Sal with some kind of death call.

I spin to her, mouth gaping as I fight to bite down the resounding 'no' that desperately wants to leave my soul. Why would she suggest something like that?

"Why?" Sal asks the question I didn't have the voice to. "She seems more than capable of doing that on her own."

Aw, that's kind of sweet.

"Because," Ash shrugs. "You're..." she seems to think to herself, trying to find a good excuse. This is preposterous. "You're the only person that knows instruments like she does. Forceful bonding!"

Sal sighs deeply. I don't have it in me to look at him as he walks over to us. "What about Larry? He--"

"Yea, Sal," Ash says, her voice loud and reverberating around the room. "What about Larry?" Her tone is aggressive, suggestive. Like she knows she's about to shut him down.

Sal goes quiet.

"So," Ash's chipper voice slices through the tension rising around the three of us. I turn to her, noting the grin splitting her face. "See you later, guys!"

My gaze cuts to Sal. He's already watching me, his eyes portraying a multitude of emotions and thoughts that I couldn't even begin to decipher. He's so him-- he feels things so differently compared to me.

"Shoo." Ash hisses. I watch her hand wave us off in my peripheral.

There's no use fighting her. I should just get it over with. If we go quickly, it shouldn't take that long, right?

Not to mention, I'm the queen of avoiding absolutely anything and everything. My three identities says it all. If I can do that, I can do this. Sal won't even know what's hit him! We can let my awkwardness and issues fizzle out, let the silence consume until I'm better and then it can all go back to the way it was... unless it doesn't. Unless my sobering up takes weeks and Sal gets tired of me. Or worse, he starts asking questions.

With my luck, the latter will happen.

I run my tongue over the surface of my teeth then speedwalk to me and Ash's kitchen. Grab my phone, my keys to the apartment, and my wallet then I head to the door. My mind buzzes the entire way, especially as I skim past Sal both times. I hold my breath each time as if being in his proximity drags me into the depths of the ocean. He's the equivalent to Leviathan in his watery, dark home and I'm doing everything I can to evade his monstrous presence.

Though, he isn't the true monster in this story.

I open the door and leave it open for Sal to follow, which he does. The door shuts softly once I'm a few steps away and toward the elevator.

It's maddening. The silence. It encases the two of us in a mourning veil that's already become a safe haven for the tears, lies, and grief of what's been lost. It's poetic in a sick and sadistic way-- watching everything that was carefully built up teeter on the edge of what could be-- all to fall apart. Crafted and mastered by hands more skilled than a Roman sculptor; a musical antagonist and his chaotic protagonist.

I suppose, if I'm a protagonist at all, I'm not doing much good by shredding our agreement.

I pick up my pace and whirl toward the elevator, not giving Sal time to percolate in our tense disquiet. I put my hand against the sliding door and wait for his presence with bated breath.

The moment I see his fluffy azure hair pop up beside the door, I move. I press my knuckle into the lobby button and burrow into a corner of the elevator.

To pass the time and fill the silence that echoes around in my head, also to ignore the way his scent infects every one of my senses, I pull my phone out to search for a music store.

He smells the way he always does-- clean, a little minty, and some kind of hypnotizing cologne. I can never think straight when he's so close. Which, speaking of, he's very close to my safety corner. Maybe a foot away from me.

He knows what he's doing, the bastard.

But the scenario is becoming easier for me to work through. There's a shop that specializes in equipment for instruments only about 10 minutes away from us, so they should have what I need.

The elevator dings, comes to a sickeningly slow halt that makes my skin crawl with nervous anticipation. The moment the door slides open, I blast past the threshold like an inmate awaiting their release. Don't have to tell me twice; green means go.

By this point, Sal must realize I'm either in a rush or want nothing to do with him. My neurons are misfiring, ensnared in a battle of good and bad. I feel terrible for what I'm doing, but even more so, I'm horrified of addressing this entire issue.

I skitter through a door and nearly kick myself when the better half of my mind reminds me to wait for Sal before I take off down the road.

The man himself lets the door to our apartment building shut as he joins me in the hot, dry air of Los Angeles.

He glances at me, hair a perfect mess and a twinge of apprehension and curiosity in his oceanic gaze.

I dare to glance back.

"You're avoiding me?" He asks, tilting his head, hands in his pockets. The spitting image of confrontation.

Yea, the glance back could only last so long before I regretted it.

I hold my breath and spin on my heel. Fuck, he heard Ash.

"I looked up directions for a music shop. It should be a little ways down the road," I say instead of answering his question, pointing a finger downtown.

"Vi."

I don't look.

"I think a 10 minute walk maybe?"

"Y/n, you—"

"Let's get going before they close— for lunch." I cut him off, jutting my chin toward the bustling sidewalk. I take a step forward— one that's so uncoordinated that I just know I look like I'm scrambling away.

Then his hand catches my wrist. And everything moves in slow motion; you know, hearts surrounding the two of us, smooth jazz playing and a pink tint to our bodies.

I send a glare at the invisible cameras just in time for my body to jolt to a stop.

His fingers squeeze gently around my skin and I suck in a breath of air, too terrified to look at him.

"Look," he says, tone shockingly tender to match the way his skin rubs against mine. I swallow past the thoughts. Bolt. Bolt. Drums. Must get bolt. "I don't know why you're avoiding me, but if you want this thing to continue between us... we're going to have to talk." I hear his scuffed footsteps grow closer to me right until his voice is just an inch or two above my head. "I can't fuck you if you won't even look at me."

I do my best to suppress a shiver. He whispered those filthy words, laid a path of roses and sin with his voice alone to lead me back to him. And, God, I can't stand that I slowly start tiptoeing along the path.

I have to think about a lot of things. Most importantly, what he's just said. Sal is a man of very few words— when he isn't screwing me into next week, that is. But I can tell by his diction of choice that... maybe he thinks he did something wrong. He's caught on to the fact that I can't bring myself to look at him. And this is Sal. The first thing he's going to assume is that I've finally started to think he's ugly. If that wasn't a worry of his, he wouldn't still be wearing the prosthetic. Frenemies with frenefits or not, it isn't hard to get a read on his insecurities.

Second, Nate prepped me for this. We talked about what happened between Sal and me the other night, about trusting him. So shouldn't I fess up and tell him why I can't look at him? That it's because, secretly, somewhere deep down, I've been squashing this overwhelming urge to rip that prosthetic off him and kiss him until we're both breathless?

I can hardly even admit the last bit to myself.

You know what, in fact, I'm not interested in kissing him at all.

No. I'm just avoiding my feelings.

If I had a coin right now, and Heads was labeled as "I won't kiss Sal" and Tails was called "I will kiss Sal," I would flip it. And the moment it would land on Heads, the "I won't kiss Sal option," I'd realize that I've been lying to myself. Because I would be disappointed to know that I didn't get Tails instead.

Sighing, I squeeze my eyes shut, absolutely raving over the minute physical contact between us. This is turning into a problem for me. An obsession. I can't recall the last time I was so taken by a mere touch.

I turn to face Sal, my fingers quaking as I finally meet his pretty eyes. They watch me, narrowed and waiting.

"It's about the other night," I begrudgingly admit, my voice catching in my throat. "I— yea. We should talk."

Sal's eyes return to normal, no longer narrowed as realization settles upon him. "When you used our safe word?" He asks, but doesn't give me a moment to respond. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. If you want me to keep the prosthetic on or a safe distance between us, just tell me."

There's a pang in my chest again. This one isn't as dull as the others have been though— this one hits deep and it's raw and real and so pitiful because Sal thinks it's his face. Thinks he's the cause for this.

What have I done?

His fingers loosen around my wrist, hand beginning to fall away.

I reach forward quickly, grabbing onto his index and middle fingers. "No—" I rush to say. "It's not you. You're..." I don't know how to word what's going through my head. I don't know how to explain that the problem was never him— it's me. "I'm shockingly always comfortable with you. You know, despite the blood lust and arguments. You take care of me. It's not you," I can't help but repeat.

Sal looks down at our partially linked hands and that's when I realize that maybe I reacted a bit too passionately. Quickly, I release his fingers as a wave of heat rushes across my face. This is so embarrassing. Annnnd now I can't look at him again.

"Okay," Sal says, the word low and muffled. He sounds nervous. Awkward. "Then let's talk. My statement still stands."

I nod my agreement, voice caught in my throat.

If anything, he's open to communication. As scary as it all is, I owe him an explanation, right? The worst that can happen is he realizes I'm just insane and he wants nothing to do with me anymore. It could be so much worse.

The two of us begin leisurely walking down the street toward the shop. He falls into step beside me, eyes on the pavement beneath his feet. He doesn't say a word, simply waits for me to find my thoughts and my voice.

If I'd go this entire trip without speaking, he still wouldn't push me to explain. I both adore and abhor every inch of that generous ideal of his.

But the issue still remains-- I have no idea where to start. I don't know how to even comprehend my own emotions and problems, so how can I correctly portray them to Sal?

"I don't know how to start," I admit at some point, chewing on my bottom lip while my entire body freezes over with embarrassment and shame. Who knew communicating was so hard?

"I understand," Sal says comfortingly. What the fuck happened to him? Is this his serious voice? "I had the same issue. My therapist told me that not understanding your feelings is part of understanding them, confusing as that is. Give it to me in pieces and we'll figure out the rest."

Wow. Two weeks ago, he would have pounced on the opportunity to see me crumble beneath my instability. Now, he's coaching me through it. How much changed in Nockfell?

You know, the truth of the matter is that the change began long before we went to Nockfell. I just have a hard time accepting that. Change is terrifying to me-- that's no secret, so acknowledging that it's there in the first place is hard enough. But in all honesty, the shift between him and I began the moment he apologized to me in the bar where Dark Autumn Complex played.

That's where my downfall was born.

Instead of focusing on the root of the problem, I pay close attention to the sprouting leaves. The present. We can't change the past, we can only work on what's happening now.

"Change makes me very uncomfortable," I tell him, painfully aware of how emotionally bare I am to him right now. I'm the first to know that putting my heart in this man's disastrous hands can make all the difference in how things proceed. But if I want a positive outcome, this is my only choice. "And we've changed a lot."

Sal nods beside me. "We have," he agrees.

I suck in a breath, the perfectly timed scuffing of our feet vibrating through my body. He knows how our relationship has done a complete three-sixty too.

"And I think it's scared me. The other day-- in my room. That scared me," I continue, quaking fingers twining into the fabric of my shirt.

"I remember you saying you were scared," Sal builds on my words. This turned into the tensest therapy session I've ever endured. But, he's surprisingly good at this. "What is it that scared you, exactly?"

"Um," I start awkwardly, tilting my head as I backtrack to the events of that night. I relive it all, every single step. And where my heart seems to seize is when I recall the look in his eyes as they fixated on my mouth. "It was the way you looked at me." The words burst past my lips as the realization settles. "I thought you were going to kiss me."

A quick, muffled sound from Sal reaches me. I turn to look at him, seeing his head still bent toward the ground, but a hand covering the mouth of his prosthetic this time. Is he... laughing?

I lean forward a bit and see that his eyes are scrunched closed as his chest vibrates with laughter that I can tell he's trying his best to hold at bay. Whether it's to prevent embarrassing me further or to hold up the genuine part of our conversation, I can't tell.

I don't know why he's holding back, but, damn, am I relieved.

"Are you laughing at me, you asshat?" I pick at him, amusement making my voice waver with giggles.

"Sorry." He chokes on a short, wild laugh before holding a hand up to me. "I know it's serious, I just--" He chuckles a bit more.

A smile blooms on my lips at his reaction. I'd give anything to see his handsome face right about now-- to watch the way his full, scarred lips curl into a bewitching smile. To see his sharp canines and slightly crooked teeth on display. To watch the dimple form next to his mouth, his nose scrunch up, his marred cheeks lift with happiness, his brows furrow as he tries to contain himself.

I blink when Sal looks over at me, his eyes squinted with obvious amusement. My smile softens, so as not to give the true extent of my reaction away to him.

"That's not something you have to worry about," he says, catching his breath. He straightens himself a bit but stops his walking, fully turning toward me. "I won't kiss you. It's something..." He tilts his head contemplatively. "It's rare for me. I've only ever kissed Ash and, funny enough, your damn cousin."

How do I unpack that? Easy-- I don't. The first words out of my mouth are, "You kissed Ash?"

Sal nods, the action a tad reserved as he averts his gaze. "We were young. Both had a lot to drink and Larry's favorite kind of dare is one that no one wants to do-- he dared me to kiss Ash. So I did. Travis was much different though. It was a lot more..." He trails off and that's fine by me. I don't need to know anymore.

"Got it," I continue for him, the words clipped to tell him he doesn't have to say more. He snickers lightly.

"I wasn't going to kiss you. I just think..." he trails off again and that's when I notice he still hasn't looked back to me. He's biting his tongue. There's something he doesn't want to say. But, "I think you're pretty."

My heart stutters in my chest as I watch him, toss his words around in my head a bit.

"Everything that I don't have, you do. Your face is so... symmetrical, lovely. I can't help but watch how you do things sometimes. I was being honest— it fascinates me." Nothing but honesty in his tone. Dripping with honey and all things sweet. I didn't peg him as a sentimental guy, but when I'm wrong, it works out. I don't think anyone's ever said something so kind to me before.

How the fuck am I supposed to sleep tonight?

I don't quite know how to work through or accept what he's just told me. He thinks I'm so pretty that he can't help but watch me? That's a line out of a Disney movie. No, even better, it's Twilight. A Hallmark romance.

But I appreciate his honesty. He told me the same thing when I said our safe word-- that I fascinated him. That it wasn't what it looked like. He was never going to kiss me, he was just admiring me.

I can't tell if that makes me feel better or worse. His words were the coin and the side that landed is unfortunately the 'I won't kiss Sal' option. Maybe it's better this way. I don't have to worry about things becoming something they aren't.

I suck in a shaky breath and nod my head to show him that I hear him. That I believe him. There's this nagging in my head right now though. A little sliver of my brain that's fighting to get to my frontal lobe, begging for me to compliment him the same way he did me. And that sliver manages to work its way to where it needs to be because I start saying way too much.

"I hope you know," I start softly-- I can't speak louder or my voice will waver. I'm so nervous, I feel like I've done blood work without breakfast. "That you're very pretty. I was thinking to myself earlier that I'd like to see your smile."

Y/n, you're off the show. Pack your bags. Go home.

Sal's head snaps to me in a moments notice, the action so quick that I feel like he's given both of us whiplash. I definitely shouldn't have said that.

"So you get it then," is what he says, the words mumbled. "We both fascinate each other. We wouldn't have this arrangement otherwise, so that's settled, at least." He pushes a hand through his hair, ruffles his fringe. "Was anything else bothering you?"

Nope. That was about it. But I am curious. "You asked if we were friends?" I throw the question into the air, refusing to look at him as the sign for the shop becomes visible in the distance.

Sal hums in a disbelieving way. "I would never. Did you hit your head?"

My mouth drops open. "You literally told me, 'aren't we friends?' That's asking if we're friends."

"You know I didn't mean it that way. Can't you tell when I'm fucking with you?" Sal counters, scratching at his chipping nail polish.

I pinch my lips together, a flair of frustration painting my insides red. "So what are we then?"

Famous last words. This is exactly what MCR wrote about before they broke up. I'm fated to a chemical demise and, jeez, why would I ask that question? I'm making all the mistakes today.

The answer is that we're nothing. We didn't even start as something.

To my surprise though, Sal's quiet. He doesn't laugh, he doesn't freak out, doesn't argue. Like he's genuinely pondering my question.

"I'd say we're definitely past the enemies part, right?" He asks, looking toward me for agreement. His bright eyes that capture the suffocating sunlight meet mine and my body goes rigid on instinct. I give him a stiff nod and he faces forward, continuing. "We aren't quite friends though. To me, friends are people who know my secrets and still choose to stick around. Ash, Todd, Larry. Chug and Maple back home. I mean, The Faces are more like family to me, but you get what I mean." He cuts himself off for a moment before continuing. "I'd call us acquaintances. And you don't have to worry about there being any more change because you're the last person I'd ever tell a secret to."

I narrow my eyes at him. This dumbass. "I've seen your face. Isn't that a secret?"

Sal slowly turns his head to me, blinks. "You really want to talk about faces right now, sweetheart?"

I swallow, slapping a hand onto my mask as I realize what he's hinting toward. Fuck. And he called me sweetheart-- I need him to stop... I don't know. I just need him to stop existing or something.

This is the first time he's ever said anything about my face. I knew I wouldn't be able to escape it forever, but I wish it could have held off for a little longer. This is dangerous territory he's walked us into.

I'm openly gaping at him, I realize, with wide eyes and my fingers gripping onto my mask. His brows furrow a bit before he looks away. "Don't look at me like I stole your cat," he murmurs, aggravated. "I'd never ask you to take it off."

He wouldn't? "You wouldn't?"

He shakes his head, strands of hair falling onto the cheeks of his prosthetic. "Would you have asked me to take mine off if you hadn't seen my face by accident?"

As curious as I had been of what he looked like, he has a point. I never would have pressured him or even asked for him to show me his face. If I'd have discovered his face in another way, it would have been on Sal's terms. It would have been if he wanted to show me.

"No," I whisper, gazing up at the store sign that's just a few doors ahead now. "I wouldn't have."

"Exactly," he says matter-of-factly. "Do you feel better now? Are you done avoiding me or am I going to have a couple more days to relish in the fact that I made you fold?"

I purse my lips, desperately resisting the urge to punch him in the gut. "No one folded, dickhead. I was just confused." I spin to him, point an accusatory finger at his chest. "You switch up quick, don't you?"

A mischievous smile that's hidden from me makes his pretty eyes squint as he grabs onto my wrist, gently shoves it away from his chest. "You love it, don't you?" He counters playfully, though there's still some bite in the way he speaks.

I scoff, grabbing the door of the store and damn thankful for the distraction. "You are the ground I walk on, Fisher," I murmur.

"Mmm," Sal hums, a seductive edge to his tone. "Kinky."

A smile works onto my lips at the familiarity of our bickering. I don't know if he's started this up for my sake or simply because it's so natural, but I'm thankful either way. Things feel normal. There's still an overwhelming, underlying desire to have every inch of him I can get, but not having all of him is okay so long as the rest stays the same.

This entire situation was selfish of me. Sal's battling his own demons right now; I mean, part of why he came to LA was to escape his past. Who am I to take away the one thing that gives him a little bit of comfort? I can't help him much, but being a happily willing accomplice to his most sadistic desires is something, right?

I don't reply to him, especially since we've reached the store. So instead of entertaining his bad behavior, I pull the door open and hold it for Sal as he follows me inside.

As tiny and insignificant as the store looks from the outside, it sure has a lot of personality inside. The aisle's stretch as far as the eye can see and suddenly I'm intimidated by a little bit of stacked metal.

I chew on the inside of my cheek, thinking through my options and settling on the only one I've really got-- I need to go ask someone for help.

"I'll be right back," I murmur to Sal, distracted by the looming towers of racks and displays. Yuck, this is my worst nightmare, but it's for the sake of music. "I'm going to ask someone where to find the bolts."

"Why be social when you have signs?" Sal replies with logic. I look over at his skeleton-tatted hand when he lifts it to point at the aisle signs hanging from the ceiling. "Thought you were smarter than this."

"Shut up," I gripe shamelessly, pursing my lips as I navigate my way to an aisle that has something to do with drums. I pause though and throw an insult over my shoulder-- one I've been holding back for a while. "Repaint your nails before you take another jab at me."

Sal scoffs, a little miffed but not as offended as I'd hoped. "Never thought you'd be the one complaining about my fingers," he replies, snarky and proud. I hold my breath as heat travels through my entire body. Embarrassment and lust and everything in between. He knows just how to manipulate every situation to benefit him.

I wet my lips and slow my steps a bit, just for Sal to catch up with me before I can think better of my action. His fingers brush along the small of my back, just over the waistband of my jeans. "I have the high ground, Anakin," he whispers in my ear, voice muffled and raspy.

Dammit, not the Star Wars reference. It's even worse that he's right. I dug this grave.

Doesn't change the fact he's a nerd.

He passes me up, head tilted back so he can look at the signs, showing off the lovely tattoo on his neck. It doesn't help that he's in a black tank top due to his and Larry's working on my drum kit. The flower vines and geometric tattoos on his arms are burrowing into my soul the same way they wind around his skin.

He's so pretty. I hate him.

"Look," he calls a bit farther ahead, his head turning to see if I'm near. "You needed bolts right?"

I pick up my pace to meet him, looking toward the area where he's standing. Bolts and bolts drum covers and directions of how to assemble drum kits, all that lovely jazz.

"Perfect," I purr in complete delight, grabbing onto the size I need. "Maybe you aren't good for nothing, Sally Face," I chirp for good measure even if it is sort of a low blow.

"You could just say 'thank you' like a normal person, you know?" Sal throws the words at me, tossing his hands up in a shrug that all but baits me to fight back.

"To you?" I ask, tilting my head down to give him my best incredulous look. I turn away from him and begin walking to the cash registers at the front of the store. "Never."

I think I'm imagining it, but I swear I hear Sal chuckle a bit.

I ignore it, grinning as I pay for my beloved bolts. Sal is suspiciously quiet by the time I get my receipt so I spin around, expecting to see him behind me. But he's not there. I glance around only to find him hovering near the front door, his phone pressed to his ear and a hand on his hip.

Probably Ash.

I walk over, choosing not to say anything so he can finish his call.

His eyes meet mine when I get close enough and he holds a hand out toward me, distracted as he says a quick, "Okay. Yea."

I raise a brow even if he can't see it. What is he waiting for? Does he expect me to hold his hand or something?

Oh shit, what if he does?

He wouldn't, would he? Regardless, my heart races as I gaze down at his hand and wait for further instruction. My brain is short-circuiting and I don't know what to do—

Sal folds his fingers toward his palm, pushing his hand closer to the bag I'm carrying.

Oh, that's what he wants.

Still a little confused and hocked up on adrenaline, I pass the bag to him. His fingers graze mine and suddenly I have to fight off a shiver.

Now that he has the bag, he looks away from me to finish his call, fingers gripping the plastic handles of the bag.

"We'll be back soon," he says a tad monotonously. I can faintly hear a high pitched voice reply to him— yep, Ash. Then, he snacks his lips frustratedly and says, "No, I'm not getting vodka for you and Larry. You two make me play babysitter enough." Nothing but animosity dripping from his pretty voice.

I snicker, covering my mouth with a hand in an attempt to stop myself. Sal hears anyway and he throws me a dirty look. Mmm, kinky.

Sal grumbles a couple unintelligible words, then snaps out an irritated "Bye, Ashley."

He pulls the phone away from his ear and I hiss. "Yikes," I say sarcastically, watching as he levels his dead stare at me. Whatever Ash called him for, it's set him off for the next couple hours. I wonder how much I can fuck with him within that time range?

Sal releases an exasperated sigh and pockets his phone, gripping the bag tighter. I feel my eye twitch when the muscles in his arms flex with the tightening of his fingers. I should have directed that 'yikes' at myself.

"We're picking up lunch," he tells me, shaking his head disapprovingly.

"Oh," I whisper, the word barely audible. I swallow and try speaking again, using the power of God and anime to peel my gaze away from his bare arms. I am no better than a man. "What do they want?"

"Good question," he answers, opening the door for me. How... gentlemanly. I pass through quickly, watching as he follows me out before jutting his chin toward me. "Can you look up the directions? It's some Greek place that just opened up around here apparently."

My brows furrow. "Uh, is it called Ambrosia?" I ask, thinking back on the news update I got weeks ago about a new restaurant coming to my side of Los Angeles.

Sal glances to me, eyes narrowed inquisitively. "How'd you know?"

I slowly look toward him, keeping my stare as vacant as possible. "I'm psychic," I say, deadpan. Sal has the audacity to look even more suspicious of me, so I roll my eyes and pull out my phone, searching up the directions. "Because I live here, dummy. I heard something about it when we got back from Vegas."

"For your information," Sal starts up, elbowing my arm. "I'm pretty smart."

"Okay, Todd Morrison," I scoff, smiling down at my phone. Restaurant's about a mile from here. That could be a problem. The food would be cold by the time we made it home.

"I'm serious," Sal says passionately in a pathetic attempt to defend his supposed high IQ (which, I'm sure he'd say something about that too). His voice sounds a bit higher-pitched. It's no where near Ash's shrill, but there's competition. "Before The Faces took off, I wanted to work for NASA."

That's interesting.

I look over at him, choosing to pretend the early afternoon light isn't beating down on him perfectly right now. "Really? So, you're into science?"

Sal shrugs, watching his feet the same way he did on our walk here. "Sort of. I wanted to do more of the mathematical work, though. Since there's so much we don't know about space, I figured a space station would be interested in someone who knew how to code or was familiar with physics."

I blink, eyebrows raising so high that I'm concerned they may hit the back of my skull. Sal is so reserved, never talks about his interests. I'm thankful for even the awkward beginning of this trip with him because at least I'm able to hear this about him. Had I never broken that bolt, I wouldn't be standing here having the craziest conversation of my life.

"I never would have guessed that about you," I tell him honestly. I can imagine him in a white lab coat, surrounded by other NASA scientists as he stands in front of a whiteboard full of math equations that I'd never begin to understand. He'd probably be a great teacher; animatedly explaining his work with his hands, a deep understanding and passion for the logistics of space. It's sweet to think about. Maybe he'd have been happier working for NASA, maybe he never would have had so much issues with this mystery woman. Maybe he wouldn't have had to bother with me.

Sal looks at me again and the shape of his eyes shows that he's smiling softly. I feel bewitched in the moment, captured by the beauty of him opening up to someone. Watching someone learn to trust is even more captivating than lust.

"Wanna hear something crazier?" He asks, leaning toward me. He tries to hide it, but the tone he speaks with practically screams that he's excited.

I don't fight off my smile this time as I answer him with an enthusiastic, "Sure."

"I have a degree in Mathematical Physics and Relativity, and I minored in Astrophysics."

I gape at him, thoroughly shocked and amazed. This man has a college degree? In fucking physics? "You what?" The words explode out of my mouth and Sal laughs heartily at my reaction.

This absolute lanky tank of a freak walking next to me knows more about space and math than I know about my own body. This is tragic and terrifying and so amazing. I think I could listen to him talk about astrophysics for hours.

Yea, I think I'd really like that.

I shake my head in disbelief-- at myself, at him, at the fact that I never would have guessed this about him. This goes to show just how much I don't know about Sal Fisher. "Where did you have the time for this?" I ask, fighting past my braincells who rush to figure out the mind fuck going on right now.

"I graduated last summer," he provides me with the answer I wanted, but goes into more detail. I never knew I'd appreciate an explanation so much in my life. "I was advanced in math, so I started taking college classes during my senior year in high school. After that, I went to our local college and finished everything out there. Four year degree-- I finished at 22. Here I am."

He holds his arms out as if to show me all of him, like he's proud. I nearly gush at the sight, watching his eyes light up with excitement to talk about something he enjoys. I know our relationship is the opposite of perfect, but damn, do I admire him. I had no idea of the genius hiding behind that hard exterior of his-- but it's there.

I regret talking shit about his IQ. I probably have the brainpower of a limp spaghetti noodle compared to him.

I pause my walking, forcing myself to focus on the food issue for a moment. "Okay," I tell him seriously, holding my hands out to him in a 'stop' motion. "Ambrosia is a mile walk. I doubt you want to do that, so let's catch an Uber or a cab or something. I definitely want to hear more about physics though." I didn't think his expression could lift even more, but it does. I did that. And for once, his prosthetic doesn't look so expressionless. "Hey, side note," I continue, subtly cringing. "What's your IQ?"

"Ahh," he voices, looking upward as he thinks. Oh, that's terrifying. "I think a 133 the last time I took the test. But IQ's are an inefficient way to measure someone's knowledge, so I don't like to introduce myself with that kind of insignificant number."

Yea, his explanation said everything about how fucking smart he is. I turn my head away and keep a hand up to stop him. "Don't talk to me anymore," I grumble, and I can't tell if I'm being serious or messing with him because this information really is horrifying.

"Come on," he chuckles, taking a step toward me as his head bobs with laughter. He is thoroughly amused. "I need to talk to you if we're going to get to that restaurant. And not talking is the entire reason we got into this mess in the first place."

I shake my head ferociously. "Uh-uh," I tell him, pushing against him when he walks right into my awaiting palm. I can feel his heart beating calmly against my hand. "I've been fucking a dude with a higher IQ than James Franco."

"So what?" Sal feeds into this whole charade happily. "That just means I'm hotter than him. Case closed."

"Not another word from you," I hiss, cheeks heating up from his relentless flirting. He chooses the worst times to do this-- it's always when I'm about as unstable as a failed egg drop project... now I'm making physics references. Oh, this is bad.

And Sal's interest in space explains his Star Wars reference from earlier, so I guess that's something.

"I'll leave you alone," he laughs softly. "Just this once," he adds. I can't look at him. "But we're going to walk back to the apartments and grab my car. To hell with spending more money when I can just drive."

"Aren't you a famous streamer? How is money a worry? And what happened to you not driving in LA?" I hit him with so many questions that I start to wonder if his science is rubbing off on me.

"To answer in order: yes, it's not-- I just like to save, and California is a lot more open about disabilities than small town Nockfell. Are you ready to go now?" He grabs onto my wrist for the third time today and uses his hold to force me to face him.

I pinch my lips into a thin line and warily watch him. Though, I think my nerves are needless. I don't think I've ever seen him look so light before. He seems happy for once, the emotion reflected in the brighter color of his eyes.

Maybe Nate was right. Maybe I do like Sal and it's time to stop denying it.

"...Fine," I mumble, gently pulling my arm away from him. He releases me then spins toward the way we came, gesturing to the path.

On our walk back to our apartment building, I make the best decision ever and ask Sal about black holes. The entire ten minute walk goes quickly. He tells me about all kinds of math and physics things that I don't quite understand, but it doesn't bother me much because he's so excited to talk about it. The way he animatedly explains gravity and density reminds me of the time he recited Annabelle Lee by Edgar Allan Poe. There was so much passion in his voice then, but now it's amplified to the max.

By the time we get to the parking lot for the apartments, Sal is still explaining parts of a black hole to me. I'm enraptured more by his voice than the explanation, but I try my best to follow along.

He unlocks the car, lets me get in.

"-- and there's this point at the center of a black hole, called Singularity. It's badass-- compresses matter down to the equivalent of a needle point. Actually, infinitely smaller than that. But that's where all time and space is completely broken down. Everything you are, everything you know becomes nothing the moment you face the Singularity point."

He goes quiet and shuts his door, staring at me.

I blink, beating down the butterflies in my stomach with a bat. "Damn," I murmur. "Singularity would be a badass name for a song. Such a simple name for a terrifying concept. Imagine being completely erased from existence."

"Exactly!" Sal exclaims, turning his key in the ignition, making the car roar to life. "Funny that you mention music. There's a song called Singularity by a band that Larry introduced me to when we were younger. Ever heard of Sanity's Fall?"

I recognize that name. Larry's told me about them a number of times too. "I heard about them from Larry as well," I laugh softly. "Think it's related to physics?" I ask with a tilt of my head.

Sal snorts. "Probably not." He glances toward me, a smile still present in those pretty eyes. "But we can pretend it is."

He looks away and begins backing out of the parking lot, hand on the back of my headrest. I thought asking about his interest was my best decision today, but letting him drive us to Ambrosia definitely takes the cake. The hand-headrest move will always be my favorite.

But, as Sal began driving to the restaurant, an uncomfortable awkwardness settles over us. I don't say a word, he doesn't even glance my way. I realize almost immediately that we connected today-- after saying we wouldn't connect. I think Sal's realized it, too, given his abrupt silence after going on and on about black holes for so long.

We order and pick up the food quickly. Despite me arguing with Sal about how I can pay for my own food, he bought it anyway, claiming that, "Ash told me to get food, not you."

I hate it. I hate every second. Things were so nice earlier and now it's taken a complete turn because we've realized what's going on.

Making friends sucks.

We return to our new apartments, silent the entire way up to mine and Ash's apartment. We stand as far apart as possible, too wary to even share the same air. 

Everything is unbearable to the point that I start counting the steps until we make it through the door. Even Sal in his sleeveless shirt can't entice me to spare him a glance right now. The weight of our day is just too heavy.

I burst through my front door with a relieved sigh, heaving a bag of food onto the kitchen counter. I shed a bit of my anxiety when Ash and Larry flock to the food, Larry ripping into the bag that Sal's still holding.

The man hisses when the food threatens to fall through the hole in the bag. Sal impressively chucks his keys onto the counter then grabs the containers before they can hit the ground, holding them up with a hand beneath them.

I watch him with pursed lips, turning away when his head turns toward me-- I won't wait for eye contact.

"Oh, sweetness," Ash chirps beside me in her sing-song voice, poking my arm. I turn to her with a pleasant smile to encourage her to continue. "Friday, I'm leaving for Anaheim. Got a meeting with some streaming execs. I'll be back Saturday afternoon."

I blink, letting her words marinate. "I'm gonna be here alone?" I ask to clarify.

Ash doesn't quite understand that the question was asked out of fear because she answers with an excited little, "Yep! You get to do whatever questionable shit you'd like-- just as long as you clean up."

I gulp. I don't have the heart or the lack of dignity to admit that being alone in this huge apartment seems terrifying. I mean, I should be fine. There's nothing to be scared of, especially knowing that people have to check in at the lobby to even make it into the elevators.

Yea, I'll be fine.

So I hesitantly nod, giving her a not-so-confident smile in return.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, a welcome distraction from the internalized terror that's yet to come.

I pull the device out, holding it in front of me to look while my friends flock around me to get their food.

@violove keep tagging our mother she needs to know that her bf has betrayed her @toddslefttoe @VIOLETVIOLENCE @VIOLETVIOLENCE @VIOLETVIOLENCE MOM NORTH IS A NO-GO GET OUT WHILE YOU CAN @veeveehehe he only ever wanted to hurt you bb, go fuck his bsf @ashers10 i knew he'd hurt her, i just KNEW ITTT @larbearrrr bruh i thought they were just rumors bffr???

I gape at my phone screen, quickly scrolling to see the hundreds of comments on my most recent Instagram post. They all consist of the same thing-- something about North betraying me. 

With furrowed brows, I look up at my friends. 

"Uh, guys?" I start, tilting my head as the gears turn in my head. What the fuck is going on? "People are freaking out in my comments saying that North betrayed me. Do any of you know anything about this?"

Ash mimics my expression. "I have no idea. That's... weird? Maybe someone spotted him in another girl's comments."

Oh, well, that's not bad. I don't care about him going after another girl. He and I haven't spoken in weeks. Still, I jokingly tut and reply, "Guess I'll have to start planning a SpeedBump Grave." I groan. "Men."

I smile a bit, ignoring Sal's gaze as I look down at my phone again. I'l just ask everyone to fill me in.

@VIOLETVIOLENCE guys i'm lost-- what's going on????

It takes about .5 seconds to start getting some replies in.

@lerryberryuwu @VIOLETVIOLENCE omfg you haven't heard? @toodswithoutthed MOM oh thank god you're here we need to do damage control @ashypoo99 ur never gonna guess @veeveehehe STOP BEATING AROUND THE BUSH EVERYONE OMFG. some fan leaked that sally face and DAC are working together-- THEY'RE GONNA BLACKMAIL YOU AND GET REVENGE @violove @veeveehehe no one said anything abt blackmail? they're just working on music.

Oh. So that's what it is. Maybe Sal is going to be playing guitar for a song. But this is also a leak, according to my lovely sources.

Begrudgingly, I look up at Sal who has his prosthetic lifted enough to show the bottom of his chin while he eats. For a brief moment, I wonder why he didn't just take it off, but I have to remember that it's his life. Just because I want to see him doesn't mean that he wants me to see him.

"Sal," I call out to him to distract myself.

He looks up, eyebrows risen as he situates his prosthetic back into place to listen to me.

I wet my lips and look down at my phone again, feeling my cheeks warm. "Figured I'd let you know. Everyone's freaking out in my comments because, apparently, someone leaked that you and Dark Autumn Complex are working on music together."

He curses lowly, the word full of malice. I hear his fork drop and that's when I look up-- but he's already rushing to our apartment door, ripping it open and slamming it behind him.

I watch the spot he was in just moments ago, letting the odd scene replay for a second before I address Ash and Larry.

Larry looks rattled, Ash just looks confused. 

"I'm gonna go check on him." Lar says, chewing on the inside of his cheek. "I don't think he wanted anyone to know about that."

And then Larry's gone with him.

It's not much of a shock that they're working together. They're friends; I know that. What's shocking to me though is all of my fans coming to defend me, and then Sal's reaction.

For now though, I hope that the situation gets figured out for Sal's sake. As much of an asshole as he is, no one deserves that. Least of all him.

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

A/N:::: y'all i'm tired as FUCKKKKKK

i have no words. i honestly really fucking love this chapter FUCCCKKKKKKKKK x2

as always, leave some recommendations of things i can improve! i appreciate you all so much and i'm sending so much love! have a wonderful morning/day/evening/night! I LOVE MY POOKIES <3333

[sunny-mercya]

Climate Adjustment

Steve McGarrett x Male Reader

Fandom -> Hawaii Five 0

Masterlist

Steve crouched in front of the couch, concern etched onto his face—a telltale sign is how he nibbles onto the left side of his lower lip—as he run his hand over your sweat coated, feverish, forehead and through your hair.

»How you feeling today? Any better?« asked Steve, laying the thin wool blanket—which had fallen off during your few hours of sleep—back over your, tugging you in a bit.

Even weeks later—when Steve had decided, discussing such big decisions with you of course first beforehand, to stay in Hawaii (his home country), after the funeral of his father and being offered a job as a Commander for a new special task force team—you still weren't adjusting well to the Hawaiian climate, being stuck in a constantly state of feeling sickly.

From nausea and stomach cramps, to muscle aches and feverish headaches and all the way to minimal blood in your urin—the list of symptoms you currently experience, more like suffering thru, wasn't a short termed diagnosis.

At first Steve believed it's just a one week thing—after all, Danny too didn't take the all Hawaiian Vibe well at first, but now his friend is only being huffy iffy about it—but after a week turned into a another and into third and fourth passing one, Steve begun to worry that it might be something much serious.

»...not so....good...« you mumbled out, barely glancing at your boyfriend, eyes too heavy riddled with clustering sleep.

»Alright. We're going to the doctor.« Steve sits you up—putting the blanket around your shivering body like a jacket—taking out his keys from the pockets, before picking you up and carrying you out of the house and into the car.

~~~•~~~

Steve had been halfway to the hospital—because he still hadn't found a main doctor to go to—when Danny called and telling him how his requirement is needed for stopping a bank hostage.

And Steve had half a mind to tell Danny off, that he couldn't come—because you and your health is priority right now—but Steve, here comes his Navy Sea characteristics, had to fulfil his job as well—a job to which he had sworn the Pledge of Allegiance to it, to protect and defend the country and its citizens from any harm.

So, Steve—albeit hesitantly and with a heavy sighed glance towards your exhausted, slumped, from in the passenger seat next to him—told Danny he's on his way.

»I'm sorry, [Nickname]. We're at the hospital soon, I just need to do a quick stop before. Promise it won't take long.« Steve placed his hand on your knee, giving it a gentle squeeze.

When Steve stepped out of the car—after making sure the windows are open, you having a bottle of water and still tucked in the blanket—Danny came jogging towards him, giving a update of the current situation as he puts on his bulletproof vest.

»Why did you bring [Name] along?« ask Danny, walking towards your side of the car and opening the door—wanting to give you a short greeting, only to see your sweaty and flushed face.

»Did you two had car sex?« it had been a serious legitimate question of Danny, when he saw your face and it had been the only conclusion as of why you looked like this—Steve expression crunched up into a disbelief of irritation, couldn't what stupidity he just heard from his partner.

»No. We didn't. [Name]'s sick, was just about to take him to the hospital, when you called.«

»Oh,« was all Danny could say, crouching down and patting your knee for attention, sending a small comforting smile your way—but just like with Steve before, you barely could give a glance back.

»Hey, [Nickname], we won't take long. Promise. You think you can hold out so long?« and when you nodded as a answer, Danny patted your knee again.

~~~•~~~

No one in Five-0 had thought, or more like calculated in, when one of the suspects runs out of the bank—that you're being taken as a hostage and with you being sick, you weren't able to possibly defend yourself.

Though they haven't to think about a way of getting you out of the hostage situation—as Steve, who had followed another suspect through a backdoor, had come out from a alley

Steve marched towards the suspect, looking murderous brooding—expression a furious sneer of anger—as he loomed, with his tall height, behind the man and takes the guy with one quick movement into a chokehold and Steve throws him over his shoulder, hard onto the ground.

You sagged to the ground like a stingless puppet, breathing heavily—face even more flushed than before—headache pounding into your skull and while you glanced up to the worried faces of Danny and Kono, you swore you saw their swirling twins.

Steve was at your side in a instant, heaving you up in his arms—asking the others if they could do the rest on their own and without even waiting for a answer, Steve brought you back to the car and starts driving with too much speed to the hospital.

~~~•~~~

»What did the Doctor said?« asks Danny, who had came to Steves home after they finished the case—wanting to check up on you as well, after all you're his friend—taking the bottle of beer, which Steve offers to him with a thanks.

»[Name]'s body isn't adapting to the sudden climate change as it should, which is the reason why he gotten so sick. Doctor gave me a prescription for some medication injections and [Name] should be getting better in two weeks.« Steve lets himself fall onto the couch.

»I hope so.« adds Steve after a minute of silence, taking another sip from his beer.

Even when coming back home and Steve carrying you upstairs to bed—the past weeks you had slept on the couch, hadn't the energy to even move yourself upstairs—you looked much worse than this morning, when Steve had decided to bring you to the doctor.

Steve had just injected you with a medicine dose—Doctor telling him it's easier this way than with pills or liquid medicine to drink—cooling down your feverish heated skin, with a cold washcloth, when Danny ringed the door and now he tells his partner about his worries.

»[Name] getting better, don't worry too much.«

And Steve really does hope so.

[nanakah]

onk mini-rambling

tl;dr i feel going against the current a bit as a die-hard ishimiko shipper, but I love Aquakane a whole lot ahahahah

heavy spoilers under the cut

Apparently this is an unusual take, but I'm not really convinced Aquakana is that similar to Ishimiko. The power balance is off and Kana in general reminds me more of how Maki behaves, with some shades of being too "bright" and removed from Aqua's real worries and business. She is still a complex character with good motivations, but the stakes she operates on are too different from what Aqua's revenge plot hinges on.

I've been fighting this feeling that Aquakane was more similar to Ishimiko since chapter 26.

Most people seemed to think otherwise, so I considered I was just seeing things and tried being more into Aquakana once, but I realized it required downplaying what really was going on with Akane too much. And the more I really tried to read Akane with unbiased eyes, the more I came to love her. There is something fundamentally missing for me to think the time Aqua and Kana spent apart is setup for a stronger SINCERE development now, and his protectiveness and admiration of her seem too rooted in the idea of salvation/redemption for Ai, which is platonic. Most of the time, the protectiveness he displays of her is too similar to Ruby for me to think it's romantic or concealing some deep forbidden attraction.

Overall, I think Kana is cute but I can't feel much for the ship. Her chemistry with Akane is really good too, I'm hoping the anime gets a second season for the Tokyo Blade arc because it's amazing.

Kana does bring light to Aqua's life. I can see it, but that reminds me more of Tsubame's role than Miko's..."The Sun".

She helps Aqua get in touch with acting again, he supports her and plays around with her, but at the end of the day, that always seems distant and only a symptom of Aqua's true struggles. He can be happy besides Kana, but it somewhat only happens at the cost of shutting down what is actually eating him alive, and what could have been if his life hadn't been such a mess of tragedies.

And Kana, despite learning the truth, doesn't seem to be able to grasp how deeply that actually affected Aqua, and how badly he is screaming for help. That he wants to be saved. She knows he is more hurt than what he says, but has no idea how it's dragging his whole life down a rabbit hole he can't crawl out of.

On the other hand, Akane sits besides Aqua in the darkness, and offers him some comfort to rely on, so he can at his own pace dig deeper inside himself to drag out his ghosts and finally heal his wounds.

Not only that, she has a path she'd like him to take, but she's letting it be of his own choosing. She'll stop him no matter the cost, but she's also teaching him the hard way to take the hard route of choosing his happiness for himself and to admit he doesn't truly want to toss his life aside for revenge.

The plot isn't all that similar. Neither are the stakes. But the deeper reasons that make me appreciate Ishimiko feel more similar to what I can see here.

This might get people miffed with me (onk fandom can get a little scary with waifu wars), but I see far more in common with Aqua and Akane's relationship. Through their "fake dating trope" relationship, they ended up opening to eachother and blurring the line of "I can't feel something for you" too much, and as of recent chapters are developing something closer to a rivalry and spite born out of love that is....*chef's kiss* more what I'm into? NEURON ACTIVATION IN MY MONKEY BRAIN.

LOOK AT THAT EX ENERGY....THE BITCH PLEASE EXPRESSION ON A GIRL THAT WAS ONCE THE SWEETEST CINAMMON ROLL EVER

FUCK YES GIVE ME SOME RIVALRY AND ANTI-VILLAIN SHIP GOODNESS. I'm sorry, but only Akane gets to see him like this and I love it

Constantly wondering what is a lie, what is Aqua concealing his feelings and having his expressions hidden is delicious. In a way, both of them fell for the mask ("the savior" and "the perfect imitation of Ai") but stayed for what was underneath (a wounded lonely person and someone who wants to be by their side).

Because Aqua, despite being shrouded in lies and using "It's a business relationship, a game" like a shield, truly felt like he tasted happiness and comfort. He felt understood and like he had an ally for the first time in ever, but he did not want to drag her down with him, despite saying he "just wants to use her". And he's willing to protect her by becoming hateful.

And this was the point of no return for me.

Aqua is still Goro, and no matter how much he tells himself it doesn't matter that he was dead like a nobody and that he couldn't connect to anyone after Sarina's passing...

Isn't that awfully lonely?

And yet, Akane was able to find him. She's seen his literal worst, most rotten self, and she was still by his side and grateful to him.

Does it matter how it started, then? Despite Aqua using her as a tool, she's aware of the best and worst parts of his personality. She knows how much his kindness is a heavy burden, and how it drives him to his most reckless self. Akane feels for him, but loves him for all he's done for her. Aqua doesn't allow himself to enjoy life or live for himself, but he has been able to put his objectives aside simply because he thought Akane needed help.

"When you fall down the stairs, I'll be there to catch you"....ahahaha

god help me, if this ship is going down, I'll sink with it

[rorywritesjunk]

There's no race, no ending in sight

r rating. title comes from "two of us on the run" by lucius

(some Buggy now. The clown always falls fast in my works and of course he's a bit of a mess)

Taglist: @hey-august

pt 1 + pt 2 + p3 + p4 + pt 5 + p6 + pt 7 +Pt 8 + Pt 9 + Pt 10 + Pt 11 + Pt 12 + Pt 13 + Pt 14 + Pt 15 + pt 16 + Pt 17 (End)

Pt 4

Nothing was going right for Buggy since Crocodile, Sunny, and Mihawk showed up. Not only did Buggy constantly get reminded of his debt to Crocodile, the clown accidentally became the face of the Cross Guild due to his followers enthusiasm and loyalty. But for him, that really wasn't even the worse part.

For Buggy, the worse part was he found himself thinking about Sunny a little too much in the two weeks since they met.

She was Crocodile's wife. She wasn't always nice to Buggy, but there were little things she did that made Buggy see her in a different light.

She asked him to show her how to juggle after his failed attempt at wowing her. He had hesitated, thinking this was a joke to her, but she seemed to genuinely want to learn so he did, being mindful of how he taught her, trying to keep the touching to a minimum as he first showed her with a ball first, thinking it was easier.

The accidental joke about her handling his balls had her laughing. An actual, genuine laugh that Buggy thought was the prettiest sound.

That led to her judging the state of his jacket, noticing one of the cuffs coming loose from the jacket. After explaining Richie snagged it while Buggy was trying to get him to perform before Sunny showed up, she offered to fix it for him. No charge or anything. He must look his best after all.

When she returned it a few days later, the jacket looked brand new. She cleaned and ironed it for him, insisting that she did it because if he was to put on a proper performance for her then she wanted him to dazzle her.

She insisted he put it on to make sure it fit and he hated that he listened to her. He hated it even more how red in the face he got when she crowded him, buttoning it up to make sure it looked right on him.

Days later she showed up again, asking him to keep teaching her fun little tricks like juggling and plate spinning. Did she think this was a playground? He and his men had work to do! But she actually asked nicely, twirling a lock of her hair around her finger, looking a bit uncertain, and he found himself agreeing to it.

"As a kid I thought it would be fun to run away and join the circus." Sunny told him as she practiced juggling two balls in the air. "My mom caught me trying to sneak away one night."

"Why, were your parents awful or something?" Buggy asked, catching one of the balls when she miscalculated a throw. He tossed it back to her. "Watch what you're doing."

"My parents are absolutely lovely." Sunny smiled as she tried again to juggle. "I was just excited after seeing the show. My dad is a big softy and cried when he found out while my mom thought it was funny. She said if my dad hadn't been so upset she would have let me sneak away."

Buggy frowned at that. As a kid on Roger's ship, he threatened to run away multiple times when he was upset. Shanks always offered to join him and often as soon as the boys hatched the plan, the ship was already sailing away from the port, preventing them from following through. He couldn't imagine doing it just for fun.

"Huh." Buggy shrugged and suddenly tossed her a third ball, catching her by surprise. "Well, never too late to run away and join the circus, you know."

"Oh? Your circus is the only one around. Maybe I'll run away and join yours." Sunny chuckled as she failed to maintain her rhythm, dropping them. "Maybe I'm not meant to juggle."

"You just started learning." Buggy rolled his eyes as his hands went to collect them. He tried not to think of her showing up at the tent with a bag, ready to leave her husband to join him instead. "Don't give up yet."

"As long as you keep teaching me then I won't." She smiled at him and Buggy paused, swallowing heavily as his face started to turn red. She looked so pretty when she smiled.

Now he was sulking in the tent, nursing his injuries Mihawk and Crocodile inflicted upon him after the fliers were dropped, showing him as the head of the organization. They both laid into him and the bumps and bruises all over would certainly take some time to heal. He had a bottle of rum in one hand and an ice pack in the other, cursing their names.

It didn't make it any better that Sunny showed up shortly after, frowning when she saw the clown's head hanging from Crocodile's hook while his body lay at his feet. Buggy couldn't believe she was scolding her husband, but not for hurting Buggy so much, more on the fact that she just finished getting stains out of Crocodile's shirt and now it was dirty again.

Of course, she had no reason to worry about Buggy. She had her husband after all. Why would Buggy think she would show any interest in his safety when she had her husband to think about?

He huffed in annoyance, taking a few drinks of his rum as he sulked on the couch. He didn't want to think about her at all because he felt that would just get him into trouble. She just... She was so pretty. That was the first thing that came to mind. When she smiled, her face would light up and eyes sparkled and Buggy thought that was almost as wonderful as all the treasure in the world. Almost.

But he just met her a few weeks ago. He shouldn't be thinking about her this way when her husband wouldn't hesitate killing him.

And why would he think she would even consider him? If she was bored of her husband she would go to someone like Mihawk, wouldn't she? Not some pathetic clown who she saw crying in front of her husband, begging for his life to be spared. Buggy wouldn't be surprised if she started keeping her distance after that. Maybe he needed to tell her to, but would that do any good? She was stubborn and would probably ignore him if he told her that.

He finished the bottle and threw it aside, grumbling to himself as he tried to not think about her.

~

It was dumb to do it.

Dumb, dumb, dumb. He was a dead clown for sure but he couldn't stop himself.

Mihawk and Sunny were outside together, actually gardening. Sunny was in her overalls and a duck printed tank top. Buggy tried not to stare at her exposed arms, free of marks and bruises from a night with her husband. She had a big floppy hat on, shielding her face from the sun. He noticed her hair was in two braids, though a few strands were loose that she kept brushing out of her eyes. She looked... Cute.

Mihawk noticed Buggy first, looking up from his task with narrowed eyes. Sunny was standing, leaning on a rake as she turned to look at Buggy. She grinned when she saw him.

"The clown lives!" She chuckled as she looked him over. He wasn't in that goofy red outfit now, instead in pants and a shirt, something a little more practical. "I hadn't seen you in a while. Thought you may have run off or something."

"I was busy, okay?!" He shot back, only to recoil slightly under Mihawk's glare. Buggy straightened up and cleared his throat. "You stopped coming around to bug me about teaching you tricks. I... Was just checking on you."

"Checking on me?" Sunny repeated with a frown. "Oh, sorry, I figured you wanted space after everything that happened. And Mihawk wanted to start a garden and I asked to help him."

Buggy tried to ignore the swordsman, choosing to keep his attention on Sunny instead. "Yea, well, how are you going to get better at juggling if you stop talking to me, huh?! Didn't you want to learn all of this stuff?!"

"I do..." Sunny frowned. "But why don't you help us out and then you can teach me some more? I wouldn't mind learning more tricks from you, if you're free."

"What sort of 'tricks' are you teaching, clown?" Mihawk asked. Sunny laughed as Buggy tried not to shake with fear in front of him.

"I want him to teach me to juggle and spin plates, Mihawk!" She told him with a smile. "I get so bored sometimes. I thought it would be fun and he's a great teacher."

Mihawk looked between the two before his gaze fell on Buggy. "Is that all you're doing?"

""Y-Yes! What else would it be?!" Buggy exclaimed nervously, any remaining calm now gone from his body. He didn't want Mihawk getting the wrong impression and telling Crocodile. He would be dead for sure. "That's all! Nothing else, understand?! Just some little tricks!"

"Very well." Mihawk pointed to the rake Sunny was leaning on. "Help her with some of the weeds. The sooner this is done the sooner you can 'teach her little tricks'."

Sunny handed Buggy the rake before going over to where she left some bottles of water. Once she was out of earshot, Mihawk stood up and grabbed Buggy by the front of his shirt, startling him.

"What game are you playing?" He asked Buggy.

He put his hands up, shaking his head. "Nothing, I swear, she wants me to teach her things and... And if she's happy then her husband will be happy, right? Less chance of him killing me, right?"

Mihawk narrowed his eyes, studying Buggy's face for any signs of ulterior motives. Supposedly the clown was telling the truth, that this was just to entertain Sunny, but he didn't trust Buggy. He released him and pushed him back.

"Yes, keep her happy, that's the best thing you can do, clown." Mihawk told him before he returned to his task. Sunny came back over, adjusting her hat as she smiled.

"C'mon, Buggy. I'll show you what to do." She told him, touching his arm, causing him to stiffen up for a moment. He glanced at Mihawk who was watching them, so Buggy pulled his arm away and let Sunny show him what to do.

Oh, he was a dead man for this. Mihawk wasn't stupid.

[marshmallowprotection]

Can you please write a one shot on vet yoosung having to deal with a patient like this guy

"Dr. Kim, you should be warned, the patient today was listed as a bite warning."

"I'm sure we can handle him. He might just be anxious at the vet. It's no problem! I'll take it at his pace so he doesn't feel crowded. I'd hate to feel cornered when I don't feel good and I can't communicate why that is, too! Is it the mastiff from last time? He wasn't as bad as they'd claimed, you know! He just needed some belly rubs before he turned to butter."

"Dr. Kim, I'm starting to wonder if you're afraid of any animal at all!"

Yoosung chuckled. "No, no. Of course not. I don't have anything to be afraid of! Animals can sense your anxiety, you know. That's one of the first things I learned before I even got far into my studies. If you're as calm as you can be, they'll feel better about trusting you. It isn't clear cut and perfect, but it does make a difference in my experience."

"You might be surprised with this guy."

"C'mon, how bad can he be?"

The nurse nodded and went to wet the patient from the waiting room. It wasn't long before she turned with a crate that was filled with the howling and growling of a dog. Yoosung noticed that the nurse was wary, trembling as she went to the unlock the crate and free the beast from his cage, but he offered her his hands.

She took that offer in an instant and took a step back so he could do it.

A fraction of a second later, a Chihuahua burst out of the crate and began to bark at him in incredulous speed. He didn’t seem happy to be at the vet, that was for sure, but the rate at which his body was shaking was bound to make anyone assume he was filled with rage the likes of which no human had ever seen. 

Yoosung knew what most people assumed when they saw a yapping Chihuahua. They expected to see a dog that wouldn't stop trembling or howling in disgust. Frankly, a quick Noogle search would tell them that the reason why their dog was responding the way it was because they were overstimulated, overwhelmed, or cold.

They weren't filled with anger nine times out of ten.

He knew these animals weren't filled with rage, and it was sad that most people were afraid of them for that reason. He had to imagine that it would be frustrating to be a small dog, constantly poked and prodded as if you were nothing more than a toy, and anyone would angry after being treated that away—even if you didn't want to be. 

The Chihuahua yipped at him but Yoosung was patient. He took a seat in front of the dog and kept his hands to himself, seeing how long it might take his patient to get the barks out of his system with the space to do what he needed to do. He knew that wouldn't be all the comfort the dog needed to feel better, but it was a start, and he wasn't the type to rush an appointment if it wasn't an emergency to start with!

"Hey there," his voice was gentle as the dog continued to shake and tremble. "We've got plenty of time to figure out what's wrong, little guy. I won't poke and prod you until you establish your comfort level. I don't like going to the doctor, either, but the least I can do is make the trip less cold."

The growls continued. 

This wasn't his first rodeo with an animal that wasn't comfortable. But, this was assuredly the first time he interacted with a tiny dog that clearly hadn't had its boundaries respected. He knew what that felt like... and it wasn't fun to have his buttons pressed until he felt cornered!

Undeterred, Yoosung continued, "I would give you treats to help you feel a little more comfortable, but for us to run the test today, you can't have anything to eat. But, I promise if you let me take care of the scan, I'll give you something fresh to eat. Your owner said we could do anything to make sure it was comfortable for you if we could and I bet a plate of chicken will do the trick, huh, little guy?"

Quietly, he offered his hand to the Chihuahua. Most people would have expected the dog to bite them on impact, but he didn't let any fear show on his face. "Don't worry, I won't grab you without asking first."

He was somebody who took care of animals for a living, and he knew that showing fear over a bite or a scratch wasn't worth it. He could take it, and he would rather take it if it meant they trusted him fully instead of feeling like nobody listened to them. It took a moment, but the dog sniffed his hands, and the growling suddenly subsided with it. 

A smile appeared on Yoosung face as he let the dog nuzzle its face against his hand. "There we go, that's much better, huh? Let's get you taken care of so you can go home and eat to your hearts content all night long, hm?"

"Dr. Kim... how did you do that...?"

"Simple! I let them decide that I'm trustworthy on their own before I go poking around. They're just like you or me, you know? That's what I told you before. Patience helps."

[moonbyulsstuff]

Hii so u saw your equests were open and I read your work I love your work and I wanted to request a dg fluff or angst with a female reader if not then just ignore and thanks

If Only...

Female Reader.

Requested.

Masterlist.

Request Rules.

Diego walked out of the flower shop, with a bouquet of purple hyacinth. He pulled his cap lower and walked towards his car, he got inside and drove off.

After awhile, he arrived at the hospital. He went out of the car and inside the building, his mind was blank throughout as his feet took him to a certain room. He was now standing in front of the door as he pulled the door open and closed it behind him, as he arrived as he pulled off his cape, letting his pink hair flow out freely.

He looked at the sleeping figure on the bed, he let out a chuckle. "Hey [Name]... it's been a long time hasn't it?" He said as silence was the only thing that was heard throughout. "I... I got you some flowers, purple hyacinth, there your favorite?" Diego asked, unsure. He then placed the flower on the empty vase.

His eyes looked at the woman who was sleeping peacefully, mostly because of she was in a coma state for 3 years. The monitors beside her bed, as the machine kept beeping every second. He bit his lip as today marked as the 3rd year that she has been in a coma.

And during those years, Diego was unable to visit her. Usually sending some flowers or Charles visiting her and checking her condition and sending the words from the doctor to Diego, who too much of a coward to do visit her until now.

After Eugene gave the him the extra push that he needed, he sighed and massaged his head temples. This was giving him a headache, he was too much of a nervous wreck to visit her, DIego always thought he shouldn't even be anywhere near her.

After what happened 3 years ago, he felt bad at what happened as he kept replaying the same memory on the very same day.

"I'm... I'm so sorry [Name]...." Diego then broke down, as he held out his hand to held hers but stopped halfway as he retracted back as he rested his hand on the bed foam. "If only..." He mumbled as he tried to wipe the tears away but they kept coming back.

"If I hadn't been such a jerk... especially when I'm your... fucking boyfriend..."

"James!"

The red haired male looked behind and saw a certain H/C haired girl running towards him, she stopped as she panted while James waited for her to calm down.

"What do you want?"

"Do you want to go on a date later? There's this new cafe that recently opened up." [Name] offered as James sighed but then nodded.

[Name] [L.Name] a young girl in his school, who was a bright and positive one. She and James got together around their 1st year of school, nobody had really known that they were together. Mostly because of James request and because of how popular James was at his school.

Considering he's at the top of everything and just good at everything, everyone was fawning over him.

So it would come as a huge shock that James was dating someone all along.

But is everything have to be good? Of course not, one of their classmates managed to found out that James and her were dating.

And what that lead to?

Massive bullying, discrimination and harassments.

Everyday was not a safe day for [Name], constantly being surrounded by whispers of nasty rumors. Desk being written with nasty words, lockers being filled by nasty written notes. Destroyed shoes and coming home dirty.

[Name] would have managed to at least survive through all of it, the torment, the harassments, the bullying, if she had James by her side.

But instead, she got ignored.

"Aww, yooouuuu look so much beeettteeerr [Name]~" The girl mocked after seeing the other girl's face, her face full of messy makeup. The other two girls snickered and joined in the mockery.

Then the sound of the scissors were heard as [Name] looked behind as her eyes widened and saw one of the girls holding a pair of scissors. "Time for a hair makeover!"

"Look over here [Name]!"

"Come on! You look so pretty!"

"Hahahahahaha!"

Footsteps were heard walking off as [Name] sat there emotionless, looking down on the ground as hairs were everywhere from the girls cutting her hair badly.

She slowly took out her phone and dialed James phone number, it ringed a couple of times before it went to voice mail.

[Name] continued doing so before James finally had picked up the call. "[Name], what is it?" He asked. "James... can... we talk?" [Name] said as she heard James sigh on the other line. "We're already a-"

"No, like in person... please." [Name] desperately said as she heard another sigh coming from him as he agreed, she put her phone away and stood up.

[Name] slowly walked out of the bathroom and was met with an empty hallway, it was already class time so that explains the empty hallways.

She walked down the hallway, thinking of leaving the school early or just staying at the clinic since the the nurse was nice enough to let her rest in.

"Dear, are you sure you're alright?" He asked as [Name] nodded and gave him a small smile. "Yes, everything is alright..." [Name] said as he hummed while she laid down.

AFTER SCHOOL.

[Name] cleaned up herself before meeting with James, the two decided to meet up on the Han river. [Name] slowly walked down as cold breeze hit her face, she saw James by his iconic red hair and called out to him.

"James."

"Jesus, you look like a mess." James said after seeing her appearance, she tiredly chuckled as she stood near him as they looked at the Han river.

....

"James, you do know that I love you.... right?"

"Of course."

"Do... you also feel the same....?"

It was quiet.

"Of course."

[Name] bit her lip.

"I'm... glad..."

That's not how it feels like anymore...

[Name] was now at the school rooftop, looking over the view. She skipped classes as she was going to give the school, her classmates, her fellow students, a great gift before they move up into 3rd year in a few months.

She put down her letter onto the ground while sending the text to James and putting it on top of the paper.

She climbed over the railings and looked down on the ground and felt the breeze go past her, but before she could. The door opened.

[Name] looked behind her and saw James shocked face.

"[Name]...? What are you doing here?" James said as fear was bubbling inside of him when seeing the situation right in front of him.

"Ah... James, I didn't expect to see you here..."

He slowly walked towards her but was stopped. "You can't." Her soft voice surprised him as she only smiled. "You don't care, so don't act like you care."

"[Name]!"

James eyes widened as he ran off to the railings when [Name] stepped forward, he looked over the ceiling and saw her unmoving body on the ground as some heads peaked over the window to look at what just happened.

After that incident, an investigation was occurred. Everything came to light and the school was forced to close down and the students were forced to give an apology to [Name] family, and the public was of course intense.

But for James, having to witness seeing his girlfriend jumped off the school building right in front of him was a traumatizing experience.

James regretted it so much, he knew he shouldn't have done that. He should acted like her actual boyfriend, instead of ignoring her problems, he should have helped her.

But it was too late anyway, the damage had already been done. There's nothing he can do now and wait.

"When you... wake up, do you want to go on... that date you always wanted." Diego said as he has been here for how long, chatting to [Name]. Even if she won't hear on anything he's saying right now, but hope to Jesus that she'll wake up soon.

"I love you... so... please, wake up..."

I hope this was alright.