#but suffice it to say. yeah. many thoughts. head always full.

[daincrediblegg]

How did you come up with Lady Terror?

OH THAT'S A GOOD QUESTION!!! Well. The short answer is that I watched The Terror again after a few years and needed to jump that grumpy old irish man immediately because he's so sad and outcast and pathetic, so I did what I usually do, which is wedge myself as hard as possible into the canon, slap a cool nickname onto it, and that was that.

But as many of you know, I'm not into short answers. So here we go.

Honestly, the process of developing Lady Terror has been a really interesting one. As I've explained before she was initially meant to be part of a more sci-fi centric AU based loosely off of 1899 in which she is a physical manifestation of the ship, but the way she developed from there is entirely due to three factors, 1) my friend's staunch encouragement (some of whom are still around, some of whom have deactivated, alas), 2) the Gothic Literature, film theory (which was very philosophically heavy), and the women gender and sexuality classes I was taking last year and 3) my staunch love for Jane Austen and Charlotte Bronte's Jane Eyre reemerging in my consciousness at the time. These elements combined really gave me a sense of purpose when thinking about the relationship dynamics that I wanted to put forward with Francis and Lady Terror because I can absolutely never in my life just throw my self-inserts in all willy nilly because I am of the firm and staunch belief, which has been reinforced by my studies of all genres, that romance has the capability to be as radical and philosophical as any other, and where Crozier is concerned, I think he has so much potential as a romantic figure to break a lot of the common conventions that proliferate the genre, and put together with a figure like Lady Terror, it just makes my brain go brrrrr in a way that a lot of pairings with him just... don't.

Because the focus of their relationship is on the complexities, horror and fear of love. These are two people who have been ostracized in different ways but recognize in each other that ostracization, but beyond that, their capability that continues to be stifled by a social order that is designed to keep them in their place. I've talked a lot about how Francis is probably my favorite to do think work on because he's both a colonized subject but he's also a colonizer and that's his big struggle throughout the series (mirrored, perhaps, only by Hickey), but Lady Terror mirrors him in a unique way in that she is a privilaged colonized subject, and the unique experience that that entails connects them in a way that he doesn't share with a lot of characters, and one that I think is fascinating to explore.

Because like god. What if you were all that but also truly loved? Not to be confused with devotion, adoration, admiration, or with simply being seen. What if you were loved with those things, but also then for your mind, your humor, your ability to reject and rebel against that social order, and still be loved in a way that was barred to you because the social order that you were born into is designed to continue to reject you on every level? What if then you found it in a place that wants you dead? What do you do with that love? Knowing and fearing that you will be rejected again or, even more horrifying, that it could be ripped away from you at any moment because, again, this place wants you dead. You could not be more equally as lucky and as damned. But then also you wonder if this small and sacred thing can do anything at all? does it have the capacity to change things? Does the reinforcement that the union brings matter at all to anyone else? And how do you cope with that? All questions that I'm hoping to pose with them. I don't have strict answers for all of those questions, of course, but perhaps some hints in certain directions. But I hope to put them through their paces in this way.

... but also. Fundamentally, at the end of the day, I did come up with Lady Terror because I want to fuck that old man so bad it makes me look stupid. But also I'm a lit major and if I don't get freaky with it I'll die. Just how it goes with me, I guess.

[rileysluvr]

simon riley has a thing for lips. your lips, more specifically.

whenever you’re with him, he can’t help but have his attention focused entirely on your pretty lips. stationary or not, smiling or frowning; tunnel-vision takes over and everything outside turns to muffled ringing and blurry objects. they’re just so sweet and full, and the different glosses you coat your lips in throughout the many days at work all have low groans threatening to spill over his own, each and every time he lays eyes on you. though, the only word that comes to his mind as his gaze is tracing over every curve and divot when he knows you aren’t looking, is fuckable. and he knows it’s wrong, but…

your lips would look so, so good wrapped around his cock. as far as the head goes, anyway; he knows just the tip would suffice in filling that tiny mouth of yours. still, his mind runs rampant at the thought of seeing just how much you can take. how long he can use you until you’re absolutely writhing and crying under him, begging for a break.

the way your lips would stretch and turn swollen in a way only he could give you, the prospect has him reeling. he’d turn a perfect, clever thing such as yourself into a fucked-out, ruined little toy. drool pouring from the corners of your mouth, nodding your dizzy head and smiling for more despite already taking everything he gave you.

unfortunately, simon riley doesn’t think his morals could become any more corrupt when he backs you into a corner and discovers you’ve never taken a cock in your mouth, ever.

the smirk on his face grows at your confession, and even more when he sees how flustered and embarrassed you’re getting under his stare. you had no choice but to tell him, you think. he takes your face in his big hands, mumbling something along the lines of, “poor thing…it’s alright, love. i’ll teach ya.”

and before you know it, mental entrapment becomes reality when he’s pushing you to your knees, back against the cold wall as you watch him pull his hard dick out from the confines of his cargo pants. big and mean, just like the rest of him, and you whimper at the lone sight of it. he’s pulling the tactical glove off his burly fist and throwing it somewhere off to the side as you watch dumbly, and wrapping his fingers around the throbbing veins and sheer width of his shaft.

you can’t say you’ve ever been this intimidated by anything, but you absentmindedly lick your lips with hunger as you await whatever he’ll give you, watching him slowly fist his fat cock right in front of your worried face. he snickers at the sight, mumbling more to himself: “i’ve finally got you on your knees, and you still manage to test me.”

“open up, baby, that’s right. stick that pretty tongue out, just like that. i’ll go easy on you,” he huffs, and you listen instantly.

“fuck. watch the teeth, watch it,” he tisks, and when you can’t listen—because, well, who could while being this dumbified on cock? it’s your first time, you can’t be blamed—he’s forced to shove a thumb in your mouth, right beside his cock to hold your jaw down. it’s a tight fit and your lips sting and jaw hurts from the further strain, but a few words can cure all. “that’s right, pretty girl. just lemme use this mouth like we both need, and i’ll reward you soon enough.”

“y’know how long i’ve been meanin’ to do this?” of course, you can only respond with muffled gags as he shoves himself deeper, back of your head pressing up against the wall behind you almost painfully, testing your limits. tears blur your vision but you keep your eyes on him because he told you to, and you’d be crazy not to listen to your lieutenant, even if his ethics have strayed to nothing short of utterly debauched.

“always teasin’ me with those fuckin’ lips, like you knew i’d be watching, eh? that was your goal, yeah, to get me t’teach you how to put them to good use? ‘cause it worked, lovie…doin’ so fuckin’ good for me already… ‘nd we’re gonna make you even better.”

you rub your thighs together and even try to rock your hips a bit, searching for any semblance of pleasure that’s equivalent to his, but it wont come. he laughs at you again, that fucking laugh that shouldn’t turn you on as much as it does. “isn’t that right, princess?”

afterwards, he’ll shove his spent cock back in his pants and redo his buckle as he watches you, desperately panting on the ground in front of him and catching your breath. grasping at your throat, shoulders heaving, beautiful. he’ll join you in kneeling on the floor, frowning sarcastically when you’re barely able to meet his eyes while his are fixated on yours. and christ, the way your saliva and his cum drips over the edges just like he had imagined— no, even better. tears are permanently welled at your waterline and it’s no less than a gorgeous sight. he’ll study your every feature, every detail on your face that can give him any insight to what you’re thinking, feeling, wanting.

rather, it’s the way you shift in your uncomfortable spot and your thighs are squeezed together in his peripheral that has one corner of his lips curling, a scoff of amusement leaving his lungs. oh, he’s got you. his bare hand comes up to cup your face and the thumb that was once prying your jaw apart for his pleasure now caresses the apple of your cheekbone, almost lovingly, like he really cares.

“is my pretty girl wet?” he teases, giving you no time to compute the happenings of before your throat was tainted with the bitter-sweetness of his cum. he pushes a knee between both of yours, ignoring your groggy pleas of embarrassment, and shoves his other hand down your pants. he delves a thick finger in your cunt without any warning, and then another, effectively hushing your babbles and turning them into a strained hmph and bashful whimpers.

“tight little cunt’s practically soaked, and all from suckin’ your lieutenant’s cock?” you open your mouth to explain but a soft moan comes out before any words can, which might’ve been for the best. what could you even say in this moment? “christ, you’re a dirty fuckin’ thing, aren’t ya? and y’won’t even try to deny it… bet y’just love being treated like this, all mindless and stupid for your boss.”

he’s laughing at you, again. “we can’t just leave you like this, now, can we? are you gonna let me help you out, sweetheart?”

and with pinched brows, glassy eyes, and a quivering, alluring bottom lip, you can only think to nod your head, yes, sir.

[nightowlfandom]

Ayato Sakamaki- My Only Human

HEY HEY!!

ANON ASKS

Can I make a request from your x -rated prompts. 36, 40, 57 , With Ayato Sakamaki. >.< if you can.

Idea: Maybe the reader, catches a student at the night school flirting and touching him, but when she thought he would shove her off, he doesn't. She gets super mad at him and doesnt talk to him the rest of the day until he comes in her room after school demanding to the what the readers problem is, and it leads to some rough sexy time??

If you cant thats fine >.<

If YoU CaN’t ThAt’s FiNe, PSSSSHH I GOT THIS 

36- That’s it, grab my hair. Yank it, pull me back into your pussy.

40- How do you ride me so good? God damn, you’re gonna break me!

57- Fuck! You’re mine. You’re fucking mine and I’m fucking yours.

CHECKOUT MY MASTERLIST HERE!!!

Leggo!!

...

“Yui, question.” you walked through the halls with your favorite adoptive-cousin. 

“Y/N, Answer!” she giggled in reply. “What’s up?”

“I needed help! Me and this math thing is not a thing.” you glared down at your folder.

“18, 42, 6.9 and X=17.” she instantly filled in the blanks to the questions you hadn’t answered.

“Have I ever told you I loved you?” you faked crying.

“Only always.” she shrugged. “I see the boys beat us here.” she mused, noticing the Sakamaki AND the Mukami brothers in the respective groups by the lockers, right across from each-other.

“Always beating us here, but never offering to drop us off...assholes.”

“Aren’t you the one insisting on Ayato and you arriving at different times?” she raised a brow as you two slowed down in pace.

“I told it it would be better if I arrived a little bit after him after his gaggling fans dispersed.” you half-shrugged. “The last thing I need are his fangirls trying me.” you rolled your eyes.

“Like that girl flirting with Ayato?”

“Exactly...Wait WHAT?” 

Yui pointed in the direction of the Sakamaki brothers. A girl was standing in front of him. Holding her books to her chest with one hand while twirling strands of her hair in another. 

“Julia.” you growled. “She always does this!” you motioned to how ridiculous it was that she always flirted with one of the Sakamaki brothers. Especially the one that was TAKEN!

“Ayato won’t let her even touch him!” Yui tried to console you. 

“You know what, you’re right.” you smiled a little. Everyone knew you two were an item. She wouldn’t dare.

“He loves you and he wouldn’t let her-”

You two watched as Ayato put on a flirtatious smile, crossing his arms in amusement as he leaned against the lockers.

“Maybe he won’t even entertain-”

Julia trailed a finger up his arm, laughing like a hyena.

“Maybe he’ll embarrass her?”

You watched as he took her hand, raised it to his mouth and gave her knuckles a short peck.

“Maybe-”

“Yui I love you, but I’ma need you to stop talking.” your voice kinda cracked. 

You had transferred from day school to night school for him. You had transferred SCHOOLS for him. You dealt with the burden of having to take care of a human girl who was allergic to her own skin (you loved Yui to bits, but damnit if she didn’t get you into trouble all the time) on some days along with dealing with a bunch of perverted, self-important, assholes for him...so why..WHY was he responding to Julia....like he was single.

“I’m going class.” you grumbled. “See you later.”

“Y/N WAIT!” 

...(Meanwhile)

Ayato needed to pass his English Lit. Class project, so of course when that Julia girl offered to type his report for him, he couldn’t say no. He had to pretend he wasn’t disgusted by her if he was going to remain in the top 5% of people with an actual brain. Fuck being like the other students.

“Y/N WAIT!” 

“That sounded like Yui.” Reiji commented. They were surprised to see you bolted down the hallway at full speed with Yui on your tail. She skid to a stop to glare at Ayato.

“You’ve really done it this time.” was all she said before she ran off. “Y/N!! COME BACK!”

“Smooth move, moron.” Yuma called from the other side. “Looks like I get to play knight in shining armor.” he winked.

“Ayato~” Julia got his attention, “make sure to meet me in the library so I can give you your essay.”

“Yeah, sure whatever.” Ayato watched at Yui chased you down the hall.

... (Lunchtime/Free Period)

You sat in the courtyard, sadly staring at a sketchbook page You liked to paint or draw school life in the quad. You had started with a sketch of the Sakamaki brothers, but it didn’t feel right.

You’d probably get in trouble, but you just had to draw Yuma Mukami who was sitting by the fountain. You looked up every so often, hoping he didn’t see you. 

“Y/N!” You heard. You turned your head to the side to see Ayato sitting with his brothers. ���COME OVER HERE.”

Wordlessly, you grabbed your sketchbook...only to walk to the other side of the quad. You sat at another table, focusing back on your artwork.

“Hey...”A shadow was cast over your work.

“Do you mind?” you grumbled. “You’re blocking my light source.”

“Hm, I was just thinking you’d wanna see the reference up close.”

Your head darted up to see Yuma, standing in front of you. “May I sit.”

“Do whatever you want.” you grumbled. “I don’t care.”

Ayato watched from the other side of the court yard as that smug playful bastard took your sketchbook from in front of you and began flipping through it. Why hadn’t you sat with him today?? That Mukami dickwad had better not touch you.

He watched as Yuma flirted with you, and thankfully you didn’t seem to fall for his charms. Though that half smile you gave when he gave you a flower that had been growing nearby was enough to make him angry. 

“AYATOOOO~” Julia practically threw herself into the spot where you usually sat when you sat with him. “I finished your report!”

“Great. Sure, whatever.” he glared potholes at Yuma.

“So...do you wanna eat lunch together?”

“That’s nice, Maria.”

“It’s Julia...”

“Sure whatever.”

(Meanwhile)

“There’s that smile.” he winked as you looked at the flower. 

“Thanks, I guess.”

“Also, next time you draw me...let’s have it be a nude painting huh?” He winked, getting up.

“Gross.” you scoffed, standing up yourself. “See you in Biology.” you cringed.

“Y/N!” you heard Ayato’s voice call again. Just ignore him...(Read more below the break)

... (Smut warning)

When you got home, you locked yourself in your room. You had told Yui to not bother trying to make you feel better, because it wouldn’t work. You had just finished your homework when-

“Y/N! LET ME IN!” Ayato angrily knocked at the door. When he didn’t hear anything back, he decided that the window would have to suffice. “FINE! YOU LEAVE ME NO CHOICE.”

“Oh shit!” you began to run towards the window, hoping to shut it when Ayato practically appeared out of nowhere with a frown on his face.

“Why have you been ignoring me?” he glowered. When you didn’t answer, he grew more agitated. “Y/N, Don’t make me ask again.” Still nothing. “Y/N, You have three seconds to tell me-”

“Why don’t you ask Julia!” you finally snapped. “You sure seem to like flirting with HER.”

“What? I’d never flirt with that disgusting-”

“SO KISSING HER HAND THIS MORNING WASN’T FLIRTING! Yui and I saw you! She touched your arm and you didn’t even move!” you accused. 

“Y/N, let me explain!”

“YOU DON’T NEED TO! You don’t love me anymore!” you pointed. “So go be with her! Go flirt with her! Go and spend time with her because that all you seemed to be interested in doing today!”

Ayato gasped, he finally realized what Yui had been talking about when she said ‘You really done it this time.’ He hadn’t even realized it, but he had been busy with Julia all day that by the time he got free time. He thought-

“You gonna let me talk now, Human?” he used the pet-name he coined for you. “I don’t love Julia. And I wasn’t flirting with her because I don’t love you.”

“Huh?”

“She was doing my English Lit. paper and I had to make her think she was worth my time.” he explained. “She had to think I was actually interested in her or else she’d make a scene. She knew what this exchange was. A litle bit of attention and that A+ was as good as mine. I passed by the way.” he winked.

“S-so, you don’t love her?” you wiped your eyes.

“Of course not! How many times have I told you that my heart only belongs to you?” He asked. “Idiot.” he shook his head with an amused smile. “As if that plain, lowly human could ever compare to my own personal descendant of the goddeses that made this wicked world.” he bit his lip. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I was running out of time. I would have told you, had you sat with me at lunch today.” he rolled his eyes. “...Y/N, please accept my deepest apology. I wouldn’t hurt you...unless you asked.” he wiggled his eyebrows at the last part. “Now come here.”

He grabbed your waist and pulled you towards him, taking you in a long drawn out kiss. He purposefully moaned in your mouth, laughing maniacally through each peck.

“Me, and that disgusting excuse- how laughable.” he began kissing down your neck. “I guess I’ll have to show you that you’re mine and will only ever be mine.” 

“Ayato~” you whimpered. 

“Shush.” he kissed you again. “ Fuck! “ he kept kissing your lips “You’re mine. You’re fucking mine and I’m fucking yours. .” He backed you up towards the bed. “Usually I’d ask you to suck my dick first, but I want everything to be about you.” he made you sit down. “Aww, you didn’t take off your uniform, so I can take your panties off right now.” he smirked.

Had he lost his mind?!?

“Have you lost your mind?!?” your legs shook as your panties were discarded who knew where. 

“I’ve always wanted to defile you while you were wearing it, so you can think of me every single time you put it on. Mmmmff-” he buried his head between your legs, exploring your depths with his tongue.

You took in a sharp breath, instantly arching your back in his favor. Good, that was his invitation to go forward. “Y/N, you taste so fucking good-” he laughed gleefully. “I wanna bite your clit and taste the blood right from your naughty place.” he moaned, lashing his tongue against your heat. 

“Ayato, It feels so-” you mewled. “M-more, please?”

Hearing this, he went feral. He dug his nails into your thighs, sucking harshly at your slit. You had to hold the back of his head to stay vertical, your hands tangled through his lush hair.

“ That’s it, grab my hair. Yank it, pull me back into your pussy-mmm. “ he couldn’t even finish his sentence. He was so hungry that not even a snide comment could leave his lips while he tasted you. He’d never do this with anyone else, love anyone else. He was having too much fun worshipping his beautiful human. 

“Ayato- I’m gonna c-cu-”

“Cum. Let me taste you. Let me feel it against me, let me drive my fangs into your thighs while you cum so you can feel what true ecstasy feels like.” 

You felt yourself unravel, only to feel those fangs dig into your left thigh. “Ungh! Ayato!!” you cried. 

“Fuck, Y/N.” he lapped up your blood. “It tastes even better when you’re cumming.” he bit his lip. “I wanna feel you wrap around me.” he crawled over you, capturing your mouth in a long, messy kiss.

You were surprised when he moved you two so you were straddling him. “Undo my jeans, take what’s yours, Y/N.” he bit his lips. 

You shyly unbuttoned his jeans and pulled then down along with his boxers. You were welcomed by a very obvious hardon. 

His cock slapped against his stomach as it was set free. 

“C-can I, touch?”

“It’s yours.” he winked. “Do whatever you want to me.”

You began stroking him, coaxing a low satisfied moan from your lover. You wanted to be mean and leave him but who were you kidding, you both needed it.

“Is it too forward to ask you to ride my cock?” he asked, biting his lip. “Please?”

He caressed your thighs, coaxing you to slip his dick along the perimeter of your slit. You met his eyes, but could only shyly look away.

“Oh Goooodd-” he sucked in air as his dick slipped inside. You shy rocked your hips, coaxing another moan out of him. His hands rested on your thighs. “Shit, Y/N, Why are you so fucking- Ungh...Shit I can’t take much more.” he thrusted his hips upwards. 

A small gasp hitched in your throat, followed by many as he thrust himself in and out of you. You wanted some sort of control too, so you rolled your hips even more against him. “Shit. Ayato~” you moaned. “Fuuuh-”

“Why would I want anyone else when you’re here with me.” he spoke. “Why would I NEED anyone else!” he growled. “You’re mine! I’m Yours, that’s how to fuck it should be!” he seethed. “Fuck your pussy feels so good.”

He was absolutely right, you didn’t think even washing this uniform would get his essence out of it.

“Shit!!” Ayato threw his head back, moaning like you had never seen him moan before. You didn’t even think he could even make such a face. “Y/N!!! “ he cried. “I fucking love you so much, Fuck, S-shit!! Fuck say it back, please.”

“Ayato,” you felt his cock twitch inside. “I love you-haah-aah!”

“ How do you ride me so good? God damn, you’re gonna break me! “ he cried, digging his nails into your thighs. “Fuck Y/N this is what you to do me!!”

You both were loud, sensitive, and on the brinK of breaking.

“I’m gonna CU---AAAHH FUUCCK!” you felt his warmth spill inside you. You were taken aback by him wrapped a hand around your neck and pulling you down to kiss you abruptly. He moaned loudly into your mouth, crying in euphoria as he bottomed out inside your wetness.

“Y/N!” he cried once more. “Fuck I love you.” his face twisted in pleasure, those usually stern eyebrows going soft. “I fucking love you. My human, My only human~.” he hugged you close.

“Ayato~” you replied just as wantonly. “I love you.” you whimpered.

“Don’t think you’re off the hook for ignoring me today, now it’s my turn to get revenge.” you heard his breathless laugh. “Shall we continue?”

(I.....AM SO SORRY FOR THIS)

[helliontherapscallion]

Lost Time (The Ashes of Yourself Part 2)

Part 1     Part 3    Part 4

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: mentions of suicide attempts/ideation, swearing, daddy/abandonment issues

Word count: 3,879

You and Techno stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity, both of you not knowing what to say to each other. So much was left unsaid between you two throughout your childhoods and the past four years that you didn’t know where to even start. You supposed a simple ‘how are you?’ would suffice, but that’d be too simple, far too simple for not talking to each other in literal years. But you couldn’t just say ‘hey, I’m incredibly jealous that you are Dad’s favorite and I totally didn’t send you my suicide note that you may or may not have seen’, that’d be way too much trauma dumping for your taste. You couldn’t think of anything else to say, so you chose to sheepishly grin at him and awkwardly wave. 

“Heh uh, how’re you…?” Smooth, (y/n). Real smooth.

You watched as he furrowed his brows slightly before he hesitantly gave you a small wave with his gargantuan pink hand. “...I’m doin alright. You?”

“I’ve seen better days.”

“Right…”

An awkward silence fell over you two as you glanced down at your bloodied hands. “Sorry bout the blood. It won’t really stop until I stop moving.”

He shrugged, “that’s fine. I’ve bled everywhere in this house. Nothing that won’t come out.”

“Alright then.”

You wanted to crawl into a pit and just let yourself die, you hated this awkward atmosphere you created. Your mind scrambled to find something to say to the man other than a stupid ‘alright then’. You haven’t even seen him in four years, surely you would be able to find something to talk about. You were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard him clear his throat.

“I uh got some clothes for you. They’re Tommy’s old clothes from when he stayed with me during his exile. I don’t know if they’ll fit, but I’m guessing that they’re better than the wet ones you’re wearing.”

When he saw you wince when you tried to stand up, he rushed to your side and helped you stand up. You could feel the backs of your knees start to drip blood. “Do you have any spare lava?”

His hands paused on your upper arms, “yes, but why would you need it?”

“It kinda heals me. I mean, just enough that my skin stops cracking open and bleeding everywhere.”

“Why don’t we just take you to a lava lake in the Nether?”

You glanced out the window at the flurry of snowflakes falling to the ground and being whisked off to other places by the harsh wind. You shuttered, remembering what it felt like to be fully engulfed in water. “Water hurts. I don’t want to get burnt out again.”

“Right, I’ll go get a few buckets full. Stay here,” with that, he ushered you to sit in front of the fire once again and draped the large blanket over your shoulders again. You could hear him move to another room and rustle around what you presumed was a chest before you heard his heavy footsteps walking behind the couch. You could hear the billowing of the wind when he opened the door before it was cut off by the door closing. 

You leaned forward and put your hands in the fire, relishing in the feeling of the flames melting away the charred skin slightly. The flames licked and caressed your dark skin slowly giving you more feeling back in the damaged tissue. As you were turning your hands over the flames, you thought about your voluntary near death experience just about an hour before. 

The thought of the ocean finally taking you and dragging your charcoaled corpse into its depths never to be seen again was alluring. After feeling the intense pain and the suffocation that came with chucking yourself into the ocean when you’re part blaze was definitely a deterrent, but you just had to push through the pain. This was something you’d dreamt of doing since you were fifteen and you’d be damned if you were going to let pain stop you. 

You know you felt sort of… grateful that Philza saved you when you were laying on that beach, but now that you had time to reflect on what happened, you felt resentful that he did. Of course he’d take away the only good thing you had going on in your life, he was full of audacity and impudence when you were a kid. He hasn’t changed at all much to your disappointment. You shouldn’t have expected him to change in the first place, that was just something that you knew in the back of your mind would never happen. A large part of you craved his approval and affection, but you knew that wouldn’t happen. 

Your thoughts were cut off by someone pulling you back gently from the fire. “I got the lava. Uh, I can set up an area for you downstairs with netherrack.”

“No, you don’t have to, I just have to put it on my joints for a few minutes.”

“Don’t you want to, uh, fully cover yourself?”

“I can hold off until the snowstorm dies down. It’s nothing too major.” You dipped your hands into the large bucket of lava and sighed in relief, “that’s much better, thank you Technoblade.”

“It’s no problem, but you literally just almost died. How is that something that’s ‘not major’?”

“I’m used to… well, this,” you took a hand out of the lava and gestured to your stone covered arm. “It’s just more than I’m used to. Kinda uncomfortable, but I’ll live.”

“What do you mean you’re used to it? You don’t live by water do you?”

“Yeah, I live by the ocean so I’m bound to get a little charred. No big deal,” you took your hands out of the bucket, shook the excess lava off, and stuck your elbows in. You looked at your now dully glowing hand and wiggled your fingers. There were more blackened scars etched into your skin on your joints, but you didn’t care.

“Heh? Why the hell would you live by an ocean?” 

You wove your hands nonchalantly in the air, “I always liked how the water looked when the sun set. The way that the pinks and yellows would reflect and bounce off the waves? Breathtaking.” You also lived by the ocean so that you had an easy way out of living, but you weren’t about to tell him that. Too much trauma dumping.

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” 

“Have you ever seen the sun setting over the ocean?” You rose a brow at the piglin hybrid sitting on the couch. 

“Well, no but-”

“Then you can’t knock it till you try it. I’ll take you to my old place after I can take a proper lava bath. You won’t regret it, promise.”

“Still, you’re literally made of fire. Look what happened to you… Er, speaking of, how’d this happen?” He looked you up and down inquisitively with his red eyes. 

You sighed as you took your elbows out of the lava and dipped your feet into the buckets. “...Do you still have your communicator?”

You watched as his floppy ear flicked and his eyebrow rose at you, “...Yes, but I only talk to Dad. Why, did you leave me a message?” Before he could stand up to grab his communicator, you stopped him with a hand on his shin. “No, I didn’t. I was just wondering.”

He didn’t look convinced, “...tell me what happened. Were you pushed?”

Your shoulders tensed up against your will before you forced them to relax. “I fell in, got too close to the edge.”

“You’re so lucky Dad was already at your house, you could’ve died. How could you be so careless?” 

You only responded with a blaze-like frustrated grunt that rumbled in the back of your throat and removed your feet from the buckets. Picking up one of the buckets, you took a swig of the lava. The viscous liquid crawled slowly down your throat and soothed your burned esophagus and stomach. Clearing your throat, you looked over to your estranged brother. He was looking at you with disgust, his snout scrunched up slightly and his mouth twisted into a grimace.

“What?” Your voice sounded less strained and scratchy. Overall, it felt better to speak.

“Your- your feet were just in there. That’s disgusting.”

You blew out a puff of smoke and watched as it drifted to the ceiling, “my feet were just in water, remember? They’re clean. And besides, I swallowed and inhaled a lot of water so I needed it. I mean, my lungs are still stone, but there’s nothing I can do about it except wait it out.”

“That’s still gross. Wait, can you not drink water?”

“No- well technically I can, but it hurts. Gimme one sec.”

He was quiet as he watched you take a deep breath and dunk your entire head into the lava bucket you weren’t drinking from. His youngest sibling was… strange, but he found that he enjoyed your company so far. The only company he’s had at his cabin recently was his brothers and dad, which burned him out slightly with their big personalities. You were as awkward as he was and that was refreshing. But he couldn’t help but feel guilty after hearing the majority of yours and Philza’s argument. Now that he thought back on his childhood, the majority of his memories were of him and Philza. He didn’t have many negative memories past his adoption, and that was because he spent all of his time adventuring with Philza. He did everything with his adoptive father and absolutely nothing with his siblings. He knew nothing about Wilbur, well Ghostbur now, or Tommy until they stayed with him during Tommy’s exile. He’s never talked to you or spent any time with you before, and he wanted to get to know who you were. He wanted to make up for lost time.

After you were under for a while, he started to worry that you drowned yourself. Just as he was about to pull your head out of the bucket with a hand close to your forehead, you slowly removed your head from the lava and held it over the bucket so that the excess would drip off from you. Panting slightly, you sat up fully and wiped your eyes clean of the lava. You could hear some rustling in front of you so you opened your eyes to see your brother holding out clothes to you. 

“Go change, I’ll make dinner. There’s a spare room upstairs, second door on the left. You can stay there for now.”

You hesitated before you took the clothes from him, “I… Thank you Techno.” You weren’t expecting him to be so kind to you, he was known as the blood god after all. He was ruthless when he battled, leaving thousands without families. You saw him a couple of times when you were younger coming home with Philza covered in blood with a malicious expression on his face. That always made you try to avoid him; not that you had any difficulty doing that, he was never home. 

He curtly nodded before he turned to walk into where you assumed was the kitchen. You trudged up the stairs and tiredly drug your feet down the hallway towards the second door on the left. When you opened the door, you were pleasantly surprised. You didn’t know what you were expecting to see, but it certainly wasn’t this. It was simplistic, yet it looked like a professional decorated it.

The bed looked incredibly comfortable and soft with a large white comforter draped over the top. At both sides of the headboard, twin chests sat underneath double hung windows with wooden frames that matched the spruce planks that made up the walls. You were sure that once the relentless snowstorm stopped you would be able to see a spruce forest in the distance. Lanterns hung at the far corners of the room opposite of where the bed sat. Glancing at the opposite wall, you saw a framed portrait of a nether fortress. You assumed that it was the nether fortress on the other side of his portal. If you squinted, you could see orange specks that you assumed were blazes. 

After you got dressed, you were pleasantly surprised to see that Tommy’s clothes fit you. Despite the slight bagginess of the pants and the sleeves of the jumper hanging halfway past your hands, they fit relatively well. Humming in satisfaction, you hung up your wet clothes to dry and made your way downstairs following the savory smell of cooking meat and potatoes. Your mouth watered at the smell, it’s been a while since you’ve eaten an actual meal. You’d just been surviving on an apple a day with the occasional potato when you had some leftover from making homemade vodka. 

You walked into the kitchen and looked at your brother standing at the stove, the stove looked miniscule compared to his seven and a half foot tall form. That man was a giant and you wouldn’t be lying if his height alone didn’t intimidate you slightly. If he wanted, he could grab your entire face with his hand. Various light pink scars decorated his muscular arms that poked out from the rolled up sleeves of his blouse. He wasn’t wearing his huge fluffy cloak, instead it was draped over the back of one of the chairs at the large wooden dining table. Every part of your body wanted to take it, wrap yourself up into a blaze hybrid burrito, and take the best nap you’ve ever had. His corseted form moved gracefully around the kitchen grabbing various spices and herbs. 

You saw his ears twitch before he moved his massive head  to look back at you, you could see the corners of his mouth quirk up ever so slightly. “They fit you, that’s good. Take a seat, dinner's almost ready.” With that, you took a seat at the table. You felt like a child again, the table was huge, the tabletop coming up to your lower chest. The table and chairs were made of what looked like dark oak wood. The wood was carved intricately with complex patterns etched into the frame and the back of the chairs. 

You eyed the cape draped over the chair next to you. It was a deep royal red with black speckled white fur lining the border of the fabric. If you looked closely, you could see that the pendant that connected the two ends was made of gold and had a diamond encrusted center. It looked incredibly soft, it would be so easy to just reach out with a finger to pet it. Your brother wouldn’t notice if you did it quick enough so that you could touch it before he turned around. When you gathered the courage to touch the cloak, you reached out with a slightly shaking hand to pet the fur, watching Technoblade the entire time. 

Everytime he would move to grab a spice, you would quickly retract your hand and try to act as innocent as possible only to try again after he didn’t turn around again. Just as you finally touched the fabric, you were in awe with how soft it was. It was like petting a newborn puppy but better. You truly couldn’t put into words how soft it was. 

You were snapped out of your trance by a small chuckle, “soft isn’t it?” You jumped, quickly retracting your hand and smacking your head against the back of your chair in the process. You could feel your cheeks heat up more than they usually did, you could see the glow of orange intensify at the bottom of your vision. Your brother was staring at you with amusement, his mouth quirked up in a small smile. He was carrying two plates full of steak and potatoes, putting one in front of you before walking to sit opposite of you. 

“Uh, yeah. It- it’s really soft.” 

“I got it from a nation thousands of blocks from here, it wasn’t easy to get. Those guards were not happy to see me stealing from their king.” He chuckled before he started to eat his food. 

“Is that where you got the crown too?”

“No, Dad got it for me as a going away present when I moved out… You’ve grown up so much since I’ve last seen you. I remember when you barely reached my waist and now you’re only about a foot and a half shorter than me.” 

“You’ve gotten taller also, more scars too.”

“You as well. Are all those from water?” 

“Yeah, it only scars when I crack the stone on my skin though.”

“Ouch. So like you get scars whenever you move?”

You shrugged, “basically.” Turning to your plate, you struggled with not wolfing down the entire thing in one go. You didn’t want to have your brother get the impression you had bad table manners. Wilbur raised you better than that. When you took a bite of the stake, you moaned slightly at the taste. Quickly swallowing your mouthful, you looked at your brother with wide eyes. “Ender Tech, where’d you learn to cook? It’s delicious.”

He gave you a small bashful smile and shrugged, “when you’ve been living alone for this long you pick up on a few things.”

“I’ve been living alone for about a year now and I still can’t cook.”

He raised an eyebrow at you, “well what do you eat then?”

“Just an apple a day, maybe a potato too if I have any to spare.”

He narrowed his eyes, “how the hell are you still alive? That’s hardly enough.”

You blankly stared at your plate, “I’ve been asking myself that everyday, things aren’t… amazing living alone. Uh, let’s talk about happier things. I wanna get to know you.”

He stared at you for a while before he sighed, “fine, but we’re talking about this later. How do you wanna go about getting to know each other?”

“It’s gonna be hard cuz we have like seventeen years to catch up on, but I think we can do it. Let’s… let’s play the favorites game. We take turns naming a category and we both say what our favorite thing in that is. I’ll start, what’s your favorite type of mythology? Like Greek, Egyptian, Norse…”

His eyes lit up at the mention of mythology, “I like Greek mythology. I can talk for hours about it.”

“Nice! I personally like Norse mythology better, we have to exchange myths sometime.”

“My turn, what’s your favorite myth?”

You matched his excitement, “I really like the Ragnarok myth. The fact that the gods know of their impending doom and destruction and are actively working towards it is- is just really intriguing. What’s yours?”

You both abandoned your meals as your conversation diverged into telling each other various myths from your respective favorite mythologies. Your favorite ones he told you were the tales of Orpheus and Eurydice, Persephone and Hades, and Psyche and Eros. You were a sucker for romance even if the thought of you being in a relationship was something you were uncomfortable thinking about. Romance stories just made you happy to see people finding comfort and fulfillment in each other. You told him more about Ragnarok, the creation of Mjolnir, and the murder of Baldur. 

Before you two knew it, hours passed by. Your untouched dinners grew cold and the clock struck midnight startling both of you out of your story telling. You both looked at the grandfather clock then back at each other in shock, “we’ve been talking for four hours Tech.”

“Yeah, we did. It- it was nice talking about mythology. Usually people get bored when I talk about it.”

You rolled your eyes, “Ender, I know. Why don’t they find it as interesting as we do? It’s been a while since I’ve had someone to talk to, it’s nice.”

“We better go to bed, we can just eat a bigger breakfast tomorrow before we take you to the Nether and your house. You probably want to sleep in your own bed.”

You laughed nervously, “yeah about that… I don’t really have a bed anymore. Or an actual house for that matter.”

“The fuck happened?”

“I may have burnt it down accidentally.”

He was silent for a bit before he looked at you suspiciously. “Are you gonna burn my house down?” And there’s the thing you hated most when you told people of your lineage and abilities. They always believe that you’re a being of destruction and inferno. They always grow to not trust you around them or their possessions fearing you would burn them to a crisp. You cursed your biological parents daily for giving you these genes.

You shrunk in on yourself slightly, “no, I’d never do that to you. I’m in control as long as I keep my emotions in check. Can’t get too excited, scared, or happy. I just can’t do anything extreme and my temperature stays low.” 

He grunted, nodding in satisfaction. “We probably should get to sleep soon if we wanna get stuff done before the family reunion.”

“I forgot about that… Have you met the kid Phil’s gonna adopt?”

He drew in a long breath into his nose and huffed it out of his mouth. “Yeah, his name’s Ranboo. And he’s actually only about half a year younger than you are. I don’t know how to feel about him yet, but he seems like he has good intentions.”

You drug a hand through the flames idly flickering on your head, “is Phil seriously gonna adopt another kid? I don’t think it’s a good idea for him.”

“That’s what I thought, I don’t need any more orphans running around here. You, Tommy, and Wilbur are more than enough. We can talk more about this in the morning.”

With that, you picked up your plates and took them to the kitchen. Before you could turn on the water faucet, a hand on your shoulder stopped you. “I’ll get it. You can’t be around this stuff.”

“A little water won’t hurt me. It’s the least I could do, you made dinner.” 

“A little water will hurt you. Go to bed, I’ll handle this. It’s only two dishes.”

You opened your mouth to argue with him, but it snapped shut as soon as he gave you a warning look. “Go to bed (y/n).”

“...Aright, thank you for doing that. I’ll see ya in the morning.”

He grunted as you walked out of the kitchen, up the stairs, and into the guest room. You walked straight to the bed and plopped down onto the surface. You felt sort of bad that you were rubbing soot off onto the white comforter from your still charcoaled skin, but it was nothing that you couldn’t clean in the morning. The bed was extremely comfortable, a stark contrast to your old one. Your old one had lumps and some exposed bedsprings sticking out of the fabric. With the weight of the heavy comforter and the plush mattress, you were out like a light.

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[nerdyfangirl67]

With a Little Help From the Team - NCIS Reader Insert

Pairing: Tim McGee x fem!reader, Gibbs x daughter!reader (brief/vague)

Word count: 2717

Warnings: this was a pretty fluffy piece! (not gonna lie), mild language, reader is Gibbs’ daughter

Request: @ncisfan​ “Hello! I saw your post from this morning saying you didn’t have any requests for ncis at the moment and I wanted to make a request. If for some reason you don’t want to write it that’s okay but here’s my prompt,(Idk what to call it) The reader and McGee have been dating for years and McGee has to tell the whole team (Tony, McGee, Bishop, Gibbs. That team please!) including her dad (Gibbs, cause why not?) when he wants to propose. You can decide on if they say yes or no but I hope you’ll write it. Sorry if I’m overwhelming you I just wanted to make a request”

A/N: I know I’ve told you this @ncisfan​ , but I absolutely love this idea! And a McGee x reader? Yes please! I did put this in both McGee’s and the reader’s point of view and changed it up a bit. (Yeah, I got super involved in this one and it got longer than I thought…and took far longer than I thought) I hope you enjoy it darling!!

Tim stands in the bullpen, nervously trying to find the right words to tell the team about you, the team of which just so happened to include the one man capable of making him feel like a young schoolboy still wet behind the ears, especially since that one man had a lot to do with what Tim was about to say.

Tim takes a deep breath to gather his last bit of courage and confidence, which promptly fades away the moment he starts talking.

“I uh…well you know that I’ve been seeing, no dating…dating Y/N.” Tim stutters out as his nerves get the better of him, completely fumbling the carefully planned out speech he had come up with prior to meeting with Gibbs.

Gibbs narrows his steely blue eyes as he wordlessly nods his head, telling Tim to continue.

“Things have been going well, really well actually. And I’ve been wanting to, or meaning to…not that I was putting it off, because I wasn’t. That’s the last thing-”

Gibbs cut him off with a “Spit it out McGee.”

“What I’m asking is for your permission, no..that’s not - I want to propose to her.” He was speaking so fast, his words were nearly running together, his sentences jamming together into one that didn’t make much sense.

Gibbs doesn’t say anything at first. Instead, he continues to stare at Tim, looking for any trace of deception in his face. “Why?” He asks gruffly, startling Tim.

“Wh-why?” Tim squeaks out, an uneasy feeling weighing on his chest as he tries to find the right words to answer a question he hadn’t prepared for.

“Yes, McGee. Why? Why do you want to marry my daughter?” Gibbs pauses, still evaluating Tim and his reaction. “Why should I want you to marry my daughter?”

Tim takes a deep breath, a sudden burst of confidence washing over him as he realizes that the answer to such a question was right in front of him. “Because I love her… honestly, I have for a long time, even before we started dating. And, more than anything, I want to spend the rest of my life with her. I want to spend every day that I have left in this life showing her I love her and cherishing her the way she deserves. I can’t imagine my life without her in it.”

Gibbs surprises him then, with a small smile and a hearty clasp to his shoulder. “Alright then, probie. Now all you have to do is tell her that and of course, ask her to marry you.”

Had it been any other girl, McGee might not be struggling as much to find the words. But you weren’t just any girl. You were not only Gibbs' daughter, something that caused him far more fear than he’d ever admit (he was dating the boss’ daughter after all), but you were also close with the other members of the team, which made this whole ordeal all the more nerve wracking.

You had come to know the members of the team through your job as a technical analyst for the Naval Criminal Investigative Service, meaning you spent most of your time hunting down case leads in a cubicle. Then, as you grew better at your job, and closer to Abby (who had had something to do with getting you on Gibbs team, although she’d never admit to it), you had been moved from that cubicle to a desk in Gibbs’ bullpen, unceremoniously joining the team, although not full-time as you still worked with the cyber/tech unit, your father thought so highly of (something he would never admit out loud, even to you).

You eventually became just as close to Abby as your father was, something Abby always attributed to ‘a Gibbs thing’, - “It must be a Gibbs thing because Y/N is just as great as Jethro and we just click.” Many times, if you weren’t working on a case, you could be found hanging out in the lab with Abby.

You and Tony were best friends, spending hours talking about movies and pranking each other. And, despite your “geeky background” of tech analysis, Tony never once teased you (a courtesy Tony had never given him). In fact, he had become something of a big brother to you, filling a role in your life you hadn’t ever thought you’d needed filled.

And then Ziva had joined the team, filling in little by little that hole that had been left after Kate’s death. Even with the high tension existing between Abby and Ziva, you and Ziva had hit it off right away, becoming fast friends. Eventually, despite the perceived oddness of your friendship, you, Abby, and Ziva became an inseparable trio, even occasionally ganging up together against Tony or Gibbs.

Suffice to say, you were important to the team, just as they were to you. And now Tim was faced with telling these people that he not only had been dating you (a relationship the two of you had decided to keep relatively quiet because of your line of work and the fact that you were often times coworkers), but that he was going to ask you to marry him, a proposal of which he was seeking the team’s help with.

“So, uh...I-well, I’ve been seeing, er...dating-” Tim starts, his mind scrambling as he tries to form a coherent sentence.

“McGee, the chickadee is out of the bag. We all know you’re dating Y/N.” Ziva says matter of factly,

“Cat, Ziva, the cat is out of -” Tony starts reflexively, before pausing and turning to Tim and then to Gibbs, his mouth hanging open. “Wait-what? You’re the one Y/N has been dating?” He asks incredulously.

Gibbs takes a step forward, slapping Tony on the back of the head. “Close your mouth DiNozzo.” Tony’s jaw snaps shut at the command.

“Keep talking McGee.” Gibbs says gruffly, his piercing blue eyes settling on Tim.

“I’m going to ask her to marry me.” Tim blurts out.

“We kind of knew that McGee.” Abby states, her lips pulled into a satisfied smirk. “I mean, you haven’t exactly been stealthy about ring shopping. Or buying the ring. Or getting it inscribed.” Abby lists off, earring a few incredulous looks from the other members of the team. “Y/N’s my best friend, okay? I had to make sure the ring was a good one.”

Tony turns to McGee. “McRomeo getting married? Why is this the first I’m hearing about it?” Tony steps forward to give Tim a good-natured shoulder shove. “You like it so you’re putting a ring on it, huh?” He asks with a Cheshire Cat-like grin on his face. Ziva is the one who moves to slap him in the back of the head this time.

“Ow, Ziva. What the hell was that for?” Tony asks, a hand already rubbing the spot Ziva had just smacked on the back of his head.

“When will you ever shut up and let McGee finish?” She questions, giving Tony a pointed glare. He opens his mouth to respond, but a hard look from Gibbs keeps him quiet.

Tim timidly clears his throat before continuing. “I’d like to do it here. And, um...I’d like to do it here, with all of you.” Smiles spread through the group at Tim’s words, several ideas already being blurred out by the more enthusiastic members of the team (it was Abby. Abby was already excitedly sharing ideas with the person sitting next to her, which just so happened to be Gibbs.)

——— You squeeze Tim’s hand before letting go, reaching for the handle to your car door. “See you at work.” You say with a soft smile before turning back towards your car.

“Let’s, um, let’s ride together today, to work I mean.” Tim stammers nervously, a hand on top of your driver’s side door, stopping you from leaving.

“Are you sure? I thought we were trying to keep this, us, quiet.” You ask, stepping away from your car and closer to him. He cups the side of your face with his hand, leaning forward to press a soft, chaste kiss to your lips.

“Just once, okay?” He asks quietly, a sheepish smile on his face.

You let out a small laugh. “Just this one time, alright Agent McGee?” You say with a smile, letting him take your hand and lead you towards his car. He opens the passenger door for you, closing it behind you before getting in the driver’s side. The entire ride into work is marked with Tim either giving you a huge dopey grin or a quick nervous glance, which only serves to make you suspicious, as if the insisting to ride together didn’t already.

Tim pulls into his usual parking spot, shutting off the car before turning to you. “How about we walk in together?” He asks hesitantly, a shy smile accompanying his question.

You quirk an eyebrow up at his question before responding, “Tim, it might make it pretty obvious what’s going on between us if we do that.” “Let’s do it anyway, Y/N.” He reaches over to squeeze your hand before climbing out of the driver’s side of the car and making his way to your side of the car. He opens the passenger door for you, offering you a hand to help you out, which you graciously accept. He continues to hold your hand after you are out of the car and as the two of you walk into the building, only letting go as the two of you go through security.

The two of you are the only ones on the elevator and for the entirety of the short ride, you can almost feel Tim vibrating beside you with some sort of nervous energy. You bring his hand up to your lips, pressing a gentle kiss to it before murmuring, “You okay?” He gives you a tight nod in response just as the elevator dings, announcing its arrival on your floor of the building.

You press a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Have a good day Tim, I love you.” You say, moving towards the open doors of the elevator. Tim reaches a hand out, grasping yours and stopping your exit out of the elevator.

“I, uh, I’ve got to give you something. It’s in my desk drawer, in the...bullpen.” He stammers out, quickly retracting his hand to wipe it against his suit jacket.

“Oh, can I get it at lunch?” You ask, turning back towards the front of the elevator and pressing the button to reopen the doors.

“No.” He shouts, startling you enough that you take a step back away from the sliding doors. “I mean, come with me?”

“What is up with you today Tim?” You demand, his unexplained, unnatural behavior causing your suspicions to rise, a million questions running through your head.

“Just...please.” His voice is thick with emotion, his words coming out barely above a whisper.

You silently nod your head, stepping back into the elevator and allowing the doors to close as you press the button for the floor that the NCIS team resided on. You spare a look over at Tim, whose is rubbing his hands up and down his slacks, his face turned towards the ceiling of the elevator and his lips moving in silent words.

“Tim, what is going on? You’ve been acting weird all morning and I just-” The elevator dings, announcing your arrival on the floor of the bullpen and effectively cutting you off.

Tim puts a hand over the doors, stopping them from closing as he looks at you, his kaleidoscopic eyes pleading with you to understand and to trust him. You give a small nod, taking his outstretched hand in your own and following him to the bullpen.

Right away, you notice the lights over the area of the office you’d come to know as your father’s, as Gibbs’, were off. A flash of fear settles in your chest as you begin to picture all the possible scenarios as to why your father’s part of the office was empty and dark, none of them positive. You start to walk faster, almost pushing past Tim, to get to the bullpen. You suddenly stop short when your eyes fall on Tony’s desk.

Instead of finding your best friend seated at his desk or even finding his desk empty, you see that Tony’s desktop is covered with picture frames. Your curiosity wins out over the rising fear in your chest and you step closer to the desk to inspect the framed photos.

“Oh,” A breath of surprise leaves you as you realize that they were photos of you and of Tim, taken at different times in your relationship. A series of pictures of the two of you from your second date, taken in one of the photo kiosks that you find at the mall. The two of you making goofy faces at each other in the bullpen. You and Tim bent over a computer, faces serious as you both stare at the screen. You turn to Tim’s desk next, finding it filled with vases of flowers in your favorite color.

You move towards them, leaning down to inhale their fragrant scent, your gaze landing on your father’s desk and the photos scattered across the desktop, similar to Tony’s desk, except these were pictures you’d taken of the two of you. One of the pictures from your first trip together, from the date when Tim had told you he loved you, and the first case the two of you had worked on together and a series of selfies you’d taken with Tim at various times; all laid out like a timeline of your relationship.

After a few long moments, you lift your gaze towards Ziva’s desk, curiosity seizing you as you find her desk almost empty. You quickly make your way to the front of the desk, your eyes landing on the single piece of white paper, with only one small paragraph scrawled out in the middle of the page.

Y/N,

I love you and I have something I have wanted to tell you, or rather ask you, for a long time now. I know you’re probably wondering what that question is, so if you’d turn around, I’d like to ask you it.

You slowly turn around, the paper clutched to your chest and your heart racing in your chest as your eyes find Tim’s. He gives you a small, honest smile as he takes a step forward, his hands clasping around yours before he kneels down on one knee in front of you. Your breath catches in your throat as you realize what is happening.

“I’ve loved you for years. First, as a friend, and then as a boyfriend, and now...now I want to love you as your fiance, and eventually as your husband. Would you, Y/N Gibbs, do me the honor of being my wife?” In his hands is a modest red velvet ring box, a platinum band adorned with three small diamonds nestled on the inside of the open box.

A lump forms in your throat and as you try to speak, to say yes, nothing comes out. Instead, you nod your head vigorously and close the distance between the two of you. Tim stands fully just as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in against you. You vaguely register noise in the background, noise you later learn is from the various members of ‘your’ NCIS team, as you feel him kiss your cheek.  

“I love you.” You whisper softly before pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, savoring in the feeling of his lips against yours.

“And I love you.” He gives you a deep kiss in return, leaning in to cup a hand along the back of your neck. After a moment, you pull back enough to smile widely at him, the realization that this man would become your husband, the man that you got to spend the rest of your life with, starts to dawn on you, filling you with elation and excitement, not only for your wedding but for the future you’d had with the man you loved.

Tagging:

@madamsnape921​ @ncisfan​ @thisiscalm-andits-doctor​

[aro-is-gay-af]

The Midnight of Despair | Volturi Kings x fem!reader | Part 2

Part 1 | Part 3

I advise you to read it first, as this post is the continuation. 

Yeah, there will be Part 3 for sure. As usual, sorry for gramatical confusion and/or any mistakes.

Love you all, thank you for 100 (!) notes under Part 1. 

Warnings: Rape, Depression, PTSD, Swear words, Forced Pregnancy

Word count: 6768

Summary: [Y/N] and Bella are childhood friends. They were always there for each other. [Y/N] had tough times and struggles with everyday life. Bella faces depression after Edward had left her. [Y/N] tries to get her going and alive. One day [Y/N] is raped and gets pregnant with the rapist. Not long after that it turns out that Edward got himself into the mess with Volturi. [Y/N], even traumatized and in pieces, will not let Bella go without her supervision to Italy. What is going to happen when [Y/N] will stay at Volterra? Is she really predestined to be Kings’ mate? Is she going to have her baby or abort the pregnancy? Will the trauma go away or is she going to struggle for a long time?

ENJOY!

You tried not to break your eye contact with Aro, as it made you unusually calm and on place. As soon as you walked through the door to the throne room you felt almost like at home. You knew it would take some time to get used to the new place, especially a place like this, though, you didn't find it repulsive or frightening.  

You sat down in the chair that Aro had pulled out for you. It was a little gesture but it made you a little less weirded out. Now, that you were alone with three kings, you were not as relaxed as you might have thought you’ll be, for your legs were trembling with exertion.

It wasn’t a surprise, though. You’ve barely eaten, been up on your feet since you got off the plane and through all day long, you were strongly convinced it was your last day on Earth. On top of this, you’ve just allowed Aro to touch your hand and then kiss it. You were certain that if it was for any other person, you wouldn’t be so willing to do so.

Aro took a seat opposite to you, whereas Marcus and Caius sat, probably, on their usual seats, not that far from you both. You were tired, but confident that some things needed to be established as soon as possible. You understood this perfectly. Also, even though Alice told you about basic things, you still were oblivious to most information.

“You have impressed me with your declaration” it was Caius who started the conversation. You looked directly at him.

“I’m not stupid, nor suicidal” you said, trying to remain as calm as possible. “At least, not anymore” you admitted, your upset tone impossible to miss. Caius tilted his head, eyeing you carefully.

“While on the plane, Alice told me briefly about basics,” you said. Seeing their stares, you rolled your eyes. “Yes, she also explained to me the laws. I knew this trip would’ve only two possible endings for me.”

Aro had known about this prior, but Marcus and Caius looked taken aback, to say at least.

“You knew you’d probably die and still came here?” it was Marcus who asked. It was a weird experience, even if you’d known him only for a few moments, to see such an authentic interest in his behaviour.

You nodded and smiled.

“Sure I did. Bella’s stupid ass didn’t give me another choice” you chuckled. Caius smiled again with that creepy smile, which he also had on his face while in the throne room.

“Stop that, brother” Aro scolded him lightly. “We don’t want to frighten [Y/N].”

Caius only rolled his eyes.

“You are familiar with the fact that I am as old as you, brother?” he asked Aro mockingly, sprawling comfortably in his chair. “There’s no need to scold me like I’m a child.”

Aro frowned.

“Yes, brother, I am certainly familiar with this. But nonetheless, you should be more gentle when it comes to [Y/N].”

Even though you’d been tired, somehow kings’ presence had risen your spirits. Also, it was quite funny to see them mock themselves like this.

“Can I say something?” you asked, visibly amused by their behaviour. You've relaxed a little and only then you felt how tired you really were.

“Of course, cara” said Marcus, who didn’t exactly talk much until now. All of them were looking at you, curious about what you wanted to say.

You smiled shyly, not being accustomed to receive so much attention at once.

“I don’t know if it’s normal but I’m not exactly…afraid of you? I guess I’m mostly curious. I wasn’t… concerned while we were heading here. Like, at all” you admitted, trying your best to find words, which would suit your emotions.

Three of them were listening very carefully, even Aro, who had already known your thoughts.

“Alice wasn’t trying to scare me, but I felt that she was extremely cautious when it came to your coven. Bella also was exaggerating with drama and I…” you immediately felt sick and couldn’t end the sentence. You were happy to maybe die? You were happy to have something to think about, other than rape? To think about something different than this unwanted child?  

It was as they felt the change in your mood. You saw Aro wanted to touch you but restrained himself from doing so. Marcus’s expression was calm but you actually thought, he was being beyond emotional about this. And Caius…he looked genuinely concerned.

You smiled sadly, as none of them said anything.

“I’m not exactly aware of how this mating bond thing works, but that’s probably the reason” you said quietly, with insecurity so overwhelming that you couldn’t look at the kings anymore.  Instead, you embraced your knees with yours arms and glanced at your feet resting on the edge of your chair.

You tried hard not to cry. You weren’t weak, you weren’t unstable. You were harmed in the most brutal way and you knew, it would take you a while to get out of this state of mind. Nevertheless, you didn’t want them to consider you weak or unworthy of their attention. Right now, they were the only ones you had in this world.

Your throat tightened and your lips trembled from the sob you denied yourself to make. One of them handed you a handkerchief, while making an effort not to touch you. You glanced up, as it turned out, at Marcus, who was holding the handkerchief in front of you.

“It is perfectly alright to cry, cara. You have no idea how many times I wished to shed at least one tear” he said, while you were wiping away yours. You believed him, of course. When you were in the throne room, at first Marcus looked completely lifeless and depressed. It changed after he spotted you, but you knew his behaviour didn’t come out of nowhere.

You’ve managed to calm yourself a little bit. After you regained your composure, Aro smiled gently at you, making you give him your full attention.

“My dear, we would be delighted to explain to you everything, but I can clearly see that you are extremely tired. So much has happened today, and the best way we can handle this, is when you are well rested. May I suggest coming back to the topic without any more delay, when you’ve had enough sleep?”

You smiled because of his intricate wording.

“Sure. Although, there’s no need for you to talk to me this way” you said amused, while also trying not to sound rude. The way Aro expressed his thoughts was extremely distinguished and you understood that this was part of his personality that he had acquired over three millennia.

Caius smiled to himself hearing your remark and Marcus didn't hide his amusement either. Even Aro seemed mildly entertained.

“Forgive me, cara mia” he said apologetically, mischievous tone of his voice never escaping your attention. “I am quite old by now” his remark made Caius laugh loudly. You laughed too.

“I don’t think your age matters in this case” you said, your spirits raised just a little bit.

 ***

 After your brief conversation, it was Marcus who showed you to your room. Well, it wasn’t exactly a room, as you had all suite to yourself. As soon as you saw it, you decided that it was really too much, that a bed would suffice, but fell silent after Marcus explained, why you needed to be isolated from others.

You almost forgot they were vampires and you could die if you walked into the wrong one. You shared your concerns with Marcus, who was extremely amused to hear about them. Only the most trusted members of the guard knew of the whereabouts of your chamber. The lower ranks didn't even know that you were staying in the castle for an extended period of time.

Marcus assured that overnight the kings would consider, who would be the most qualified to become your personal guardian. You were a bit embarrassed, as you seemed to be creating quite a problem with your presence in the castle. Nonetheless, you thanked Marcus, making sure beforehand that you would definitely see the three of them, as soon as you got some sleep.

Your chamber was huge. You could’ve sworn it was twice the size of the house you owned in Forks. You had your own bathroom, walk-in-closet and even a small kitchenette with a fridge. The star of the room was the massive bed with a mattress so soft, you felt like you were lying on a cloud. Before you went to bed, you decided to have a bath, because it would be silly to sleep in such a bed while being dirty.

While searching for pyjamas, you realised there were not many clothes in the wardrobe. Could this have been a guest room? You concluded that it was very likely. Anyway, you had nothing against guest rooms which looked like this. You found a thin-strapped, ankle-length nightdress, in a fabric so pleasant that it was impossible to resist wearing it.

The bathroom was ridiculously large, with two sinks to the left of the entrance, a huge bathtub in the middle and a shower that was built into, what you assumed, was a marble wall. On the opposite side of the entrance there was a vanity, with all kinds of beauty products and perfumes. You also didn't expect the bathroom to be in bright colours, and yet, the walls and floor were white marble, whereas all other elements were golden. You didn't even want to think about the fact that indeed, you had real gold faucets to your exclusive use.

You continued to think about the fact that it seemed too much. The lavishness overwhelmed you and, at the same time, distracted you from unpleasant thoughts. The washing up part, as always, was difficult for you. You tried not to look in the mirror at all. Eventually, you decided you didn't have the energy to try a bath, so you went for a quick shower.

It wasn't until you were in the shower, before you truly felt tired. You doubted it was an evening, but you felt like you'd just done a double shift at the hospital. It felt wonderful to have your hair washed, only to cuddle up later in an incredibly soft towel.

While changing into your nightgown, you didn't even glance in the mirror. You were unable to look at your naked body in the reflection. You were afraid, even though the bruises and wounds had long been healed.

Climbing onto the bed, you tried not to think too much. You didn't want to think about what you were going to do with the baby. You didn't want to think about the fact that you would probably have to explain to Caius and Marcus, why you were pregnant in the first place. You also didn't want to think about Aro seeing those memories. You were glad that you could fall asleep and, at least for a little while, be relieved of the burden of reality.

***

 “Alright. What is there that we need to discuss?” you asked, trying to focus. You were back in the study with the round table, except that there were many more papers and books on it than the day before.

It was the strangest morning of your life. According to what Aro told you, you slept for about fifteen hours. He was by your side when you woke up, but not in such manner as to startle you in any way. He came to ask how you were feeling and what you felt like eating for breakfast. You thought that with a kitchenette in your room you would be preparing your own meals. You were very much mistaken. When you said that you would like to eat scrambled eggs, Aro only smiled and told you to get dressed.

You didn't have time to ask what you were supposed to wear since the walk-in-closet was almost empty, but he had already disappeared. It turned out that you were wrong again. In those fifteen hours, someone had managed to restock your wardrobe at least halfway. You were too surprised to look at everything, but you had never seen such expensive and well-tailored clothes. You picked out the first pieces you were sure, you would feel comfortable in.

After a quick shower, you dressed up and when you came out of bathroom, Aro was already waiting for you. He brought you your meal and while you were eating, he would talk to you about things that were of minor importance. It was hard not to notice that he was in a great mood and you had to admit that you were sharing his optimism. He waited patiently for you to end your meal so that both of you could join Marcus and Caius in the study. If your human memory didn't fail you, a great number of issues had to be discussed.

You smiled, seeing so many papers and books on the wooden table. Caius and Marcus were sitting in the exact same places as yesterday.

“You should’ve wake me sooner, you know. I never sleep this much” you said, also sitting in the same place you were assigned the evening before. Aro sat in the chair on your right.

“You should sleep as long as you feel like it, dolcezza,” said Caius, focusing all his attention on you. You blushed a little. You weren’t used to being in the centre of attention. It didn't make you uncomfortable before, but after what happened... It was going to take some time before you could fully recover.  

“Caius is right. You should get plenty of sleep, my dear. If there’s no need to wake you up, we simply will not do it,” said Aro, whose smile has not left his face even for a moment.

When Marcus had finished whatever he was doing, you could finally move on to the conversation between the four of you. You thought that Aro will lead the conversation but, apparently, you were really going to discuss this together.

“I gathered you were a nurse before. You also worked with Carlisle,” started Aro, getting straight to the point. You nodded your head in agreement.

“Yes. I worked on Paediatric Intensive Care Unit but hospital in Forks is so small that I usually ended up also helping Carlisle with many things” you admitted, trying to divide your attention between three of them. If you were to stay a human for a little while, you needed to work on that. It was rather problematic to look at them all at once.

“We became friends when Bella started seeing Edward, but then the whole moving out thing came up and right now, I don't really know if I know Carlisle as well as I thought I did,” you said, without a trace of regret in your voice. Aro knew very well that you had a grudge against the doctor. Sure, Edward had left Bella, but you were sure Carlisle would have at least told you about the promotion. Now you knew it wasn't about that at all, and yet the grudge continued.

Aro smiled lightly, but you saw a glint of sadness in his eye.

“After you transformation I will be pleased to invite here my old friend Carlisle along with his family. I hope everything will work out fine between the two of you” he said with hope in his voice. You had no idea that Carlisle new Aro to the extent that he called him an old friend. You promised yourself to talk about this with Aro while in private.

“I’m…a bit concerned about this, actually” you said anxiously. “I know I need to become a vampire one day, but…” You never ended the sentence. Were you afraid of pain? No, certainly not. However, you wanted to begin with knowing your mates just a little bit more. You wanted to know more about this world you were supposed to spend eternity in.

“It’s perfectly alright to be afraid, [Y/N]” said Marcus, leaning closer to you. You felt stupid and young.

“I don’t think I’m afraid. I’m only…uncertain, because I know close to nothing about your lifestyle and I’m not sure I’m quite ready to experience it,” you tried to explain, as best as you could. Aro was a little bit ahead of Caius and Marcus, as he saw at least parts of such thoughts in your mind. Caius was the one to answer you.

“It understandable, [Y/N]. While you’ll be spending time with us, we’re going to explain everything to you. One step at a time, as my dear brother said earlier. And tell me, how do you like your chambers?” he asked, clearly curious about your opinion. You smiled, but it was a shy one.

“I love it, really, but, as I asked Aro earlier, isn’t it too much?” you suggested, trying not to offend him. Aro and Marcus smiled softly, Caius snorted.

“Nonsense, cara. With us, you'll have the very best of all worlds” he assured you.

“In that case, thank you, all of it is truly wonderful, although I feel a little awkward.”

Again, all three just laughed, but it wasn’t impolite in one bit. Aro put a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“My dear, no need for you to fret about such things as money. The most important person to us is you and we will give you whatever you need” he assured you, still with that magnificent smile. You nodded shyly, not being able to say anything. You had only been with them in a room for a short while and you felt like you were drunk. The aura they exuded was irresistible. Simultaneously you wanted to be with each of them separately and with all of them altogether. It was not an affection, not yet, but this strange attraction did not allow itself to be forgotten easily. You yearned to be in the same room with them, just to be able to talk to them and look at each other constantly.

“I have… I have a house in Forks” you said, after a few minutes of silence.

“Would you like to sell your property?” asked Caius, raising an eyebrow. Aro was also intrigued. Marcus just continued to look at you, almost as he studied your face.

“I guess. I don't think I want to go back there again” you said quietly, recalling how many bad things happened there. You were no longer at ease, not even to mention amused. The kings, just as it happened the day before, felt the shift in your behaviour. “Ever” you emphasised, but it was only a whisper.  

Bad memories deluged your thoughts. Your mother's illness and death. Your father's accident, then his death. Also, the most recent events. You swallowed hard, trying not to cry.

“I don’t want this house. I don’t want to come back to this godforsaken place ever again,” you said, wiping away a single tear with your fingers. You were ashamed, but you could not hold back the tears that followed. You did not deserve to go through all of this.

It was Marcus who spoke first.

“Cara, Aro told us nothing about your past, but I can assure you no one is going to hurt you here. You can be certain about this” he said gently, handing you a handkerchief. You accepted it gratefully, then began to quickly wipe away your tears.

“Marcus is absolutely right, [Y/N]. There is nothing in this world that we cannot protect you from. We will always be by your side. You won’t be in danger ever again” Caius assured you, while you were still trying to get these tears under control.

Aro seemed as if he wanted to lock you in an embrace and never let you go again, but he restrained himself. You knew it was because of your memories, because he saw what happened to you, and because he literally lived through it with you. You thought that probably the latter pushed you towards this decision. Who could know better what you’ve been through, than a person who knew about all things that happened during your life? You wanted a hug, desperately, and you already knew, you could trust Aro on this one.

Once he saw the permission in your eyes, you immediately found yourself in his arms. As usual, he was immensely gentle and affectionate, stroking your hair while not touching your skin, so as not to accidentally read your thoughts. You cuddled into him trustingly, not caring that he was cold. You had known him one day and he had managed to evoke more trust within you, than friends that you had known for years.

When the crying eased and you calmed down slightly, you rested your head on his shoulder. Again, just like yesterday in the throne room, you felt as if you had been home for a long time. They were your home, not some pile of stones and a roof.

“I’m sorry” you whispered, trying not to be ashamed. Aro stroked your hair again.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about, cara mia,” he assured you, with a gentle tone of his voice. You glanced at Marcus and Caius, but they only seemed at ease, as you finally were calm and not crying. Not a hint of jealousy. You didn't want Aro to let you out of his embrace and apparently he wasn't going to do anything of the sort either. You felt safe within his arms.

“Can you take care of ‘selling the house’ thing?” you asked, trying to remember what were you talking about before your emotional breakdown.

“Of course, [Y/N]. You could call Isabella later, to gather things you want to have here with you,” said Caius, exceptionally calm. Maybe his behaviour in the throne room was only an act? Or maybe he was being this way only because you were a mess and he didn’t want to upset you more than you already were.

“Yes, I’d like that, please” you said politely, wiping away the last of your tears with the handkerchief you got from Marcus.

“Are you ready to talk about the child, cara, or do you want to postpone it until some other time?” Aro asked you, trying to be as gentle with the word choice as possible. You hid your face in his jet black hair. It smelled of something you couldn't quite define, but it had a calming effect on you. You heaved a number of deep breaths. He gently caressed your shoulder.

“If you feel like sharing this, cara mia, please do. If you are unable to, do not force yourself” he advised, with so much sensitivity in his tone, that you wouldn’t expect from a man, yet alone from a vampire. It seemed that nor Caius, neither Marcus wanted to push you only to get this information.

You didn’t want to ponder about it for too long. It would definitely come to an end with you simply telling nothing at all. While you were not ready at all to talk about it, you needed to explain this somehow. You weren’t ready for any unexpected touch. You were adamant that current thing with Aro was caused by situation and your emotions. While the thought of Caius or Marcus touching you wasn’t downright awful, the idea of unexpected, unwelcomed touch made you twitch uncontrollably.

“As Aro was kind enough to mention…” started Marcus, probably to assure you no words were truly needed. You might, as well, have said it already. You didn't want anyone to accidentally touch you. You wanted to welcome the touch of your mates, just as you did with Aro a few minutes before. Being touched when you didn’t want would be catastrophic, not only for your mental health, but also for the stirring relationship with kings. It would have been worse than talking about rape itself out loud.

“I was raped a few weeks ago” you choked out, trying to make your voice sound as toneless and apathetic as possible. “I haven’t decided what to do with the… with it. Yet” you added, feeling stupid and extremely anxious. You wanted to get it over with, and at the same time you knew, it would have to be talked about at some point.

Nobody said anything. They probably waited for more words, maybe more emotions. You weren’t tense or embarrassed in front of them. Although, the uncertainty, of what were their thoughts on the topic, was a little bit intimidating. As minutes passed and you were saying nothing, Caius spoke up.

“Do you want us to kill him?” he asked, sweeping you off your feet with the question. You stared at him with amazement, completely forgetting about Aro embracing you. Your gaze didn’t discourage Caius a one bit. “Maybe some tortures first? What do you say, brothers?” he asked Aro and Marcus, his eyes remaining on you.

“Could you really do that?” you asked, before Aro or Marcus could answer. Caius started laughing out loud. There was something terrifying and, yet, incomprehensibly appealing about it. He leaned towards you.

“We would burn the whole world for you,” he whispered perilously. “If you want him to suffer, to be terrified, just as you were, say the word” he clarified, with a nasty smirk on his face. “We’ll make his last hours on Earth a living hell.”

Caius had something dangerous within himself. Something primal. He wasn’t so self-composed as Aro and as insular as Marcus. He was violent, fierce, vicious. It should scare you away from him. Only it didn’t. You believed every word he said and wanted it done. Why this little man should live his life peacefully, when you were traumatised and pregnant with a child you didn’t want in a first place?

“Revenge isn’t going to make you feel better” Aro whispered warningly into your ear, but still with calm and gentle voice.

“Yeah, I know that” you said to Aro, while still staring into Caius’s eyes. His also were crimson, but with lighter shade than Aro’s. You weren’t anxious anymore, nor were you in emotional breakdown. “But women he wants to rape will feel better if he doesn’t” you said, smiling almost as darkly as Caius. You got the feeling that you two were going to get along pretty well. Caius leaned back into his chair.

“Fantastic. We’ll talk about it more in following weeks, dear” he said, obviously pleased with the outcome of the conversation.

“Regardless if you keep the child, you’re going to be one of us” reminded Aro, to change the subject. When he mentioned transformation, you were far more conscious than few moments before. You tried not to be pessimistic about the change. You knew questions needed to be asked, but you had plenty of time to ask about anything you wanted and exactly three most experienced vampires in the world to answer them.

“We established it before, Aro” said Marcus for the first time in a while. You gathered that he wasn’t the talkative one here. You disentangled yourself from Aro's embrace and returned to your chair. Enough touching for today. However, you were sure that the sense of safety and comfort that he provided you with, would remain with you for a long time.

“I’m not able to tell you now if I want to keep the child” you said with confidence. “Anyway, I need to know what will happen, whether I decide to terminate the pregnancy or not.”

You were looking directly at Aro. You knew he had the final word here. You had a feeling how it’ll end, but you wanted to hear it anyway and have it straightforward. Aro sighed softly and smiled warmly after.

“If you’d like to keep the child, you’re going to give birth to it and when it’ll be grown up enough, it’ll become one of us” he said, his gaze extremely soft.

“Okay” you agreed. “And what if I’m not going to keep the child?” you asked, because it was the more probable occurrence. Aro saw it within your thoughts and you weren’t going to act like it wasn’t the choice you were closer to opt for. His smile remained gentle and warm, his eyes calm and soft on yours.

“The things that need to be done, are going to be done” he said, and you were extremely grateful that he didn’t use the ‘abortion’ word. You were too emotionally unstable to talk about it so straightforward. “We are going to know each other a little bit more. You’ll also meet our most trustful guards to feel safe. When you’ll be ready, one of us will change you” he explained, as simple as he could. You smiled at him a little sadly.

“Alright. Do I have any time limitations?” you asked curiously, throwing a quick glance at Caius and Marcus.

“No, dolcezza. You can take as much time as you want. You’re finally with us. That’s what truly matters to us” he reassured you. He was neither angry nor upset with the thought of you postponing transformation till the child is being born.

“One step at a time” he said cheerfully and smiled. You also smiled. It was almost impossible not to. “Cara mia, you’re so pretty when you smile. I hope you’ll be able to do that more and more here” this sentence made you blush. All three of them laughed, which made you blush even more.

“Thank you” you whispered, but it was a little unsure and hesitant. You saw concern on their faces.

“May I ask you one more question?” this time it was Marcus who asked.

“Yeah, go ahead.”

“Have you checked how far along are you? You’ve told us that maybe you’ll want to terminate the pregnancy, but my concern is about your health and how your body is going to catch up with the decision of yours, regardless what it’ll be” he said, very politely, trying not to offend you. You appreciated that dearly.

Marcus did ask very good question, though. You had no idea how far along you were. It was at least three months since it happened, so your first trimester should be over very soon.

“I don’t know. I haven’t checked. I couldn’t find the courage to do so. The only thing the doctor did, was to confirm the pregnancy” you answered, trying hard to remember if something else was being said.

“We should probably call the doctor, then” said Marcus, concern noticeable in his voice. Aro and Caius agreed with him, so did you.  

“So, do I have my own cook at my disposal?” you asked to change the subject and relieve tension a bit. Enough of difficult subjects for today.

“Ah, yes, my dear, of course!” said Aro with extreme enthusiasm. “I hope you enjoyed your breakfast today. If something isn’t the way you want it, tell any of us right away.”

“Oh, yes, I did! Hey, and I told you that already!” you said, quite amused. “Am I not supposed to be the one, who forgets?” you asked, laughing.

Caius laughed most loudly, clearly amused by what you’ve just said. Aro smiled, watching you being in better mood, than before. Marcus was just Marcus, but he also smiled.

You spent the rest of the day with the kings, talking about many important and less important things. Mostly, you talked about the matter of selling your house, the things you will want to have with you in the castle, the fact that you should give up your job and your personal guard. The latter has been the cause of endless discussion. Later that evening, Aro decided that Renata, his personal guard, would be temporarily assigned to you.

You wanted to argue but there was literally no point in it. You knew that for the time you were still human, you had to have some sort of guard, because you couldn't even handle half a vampire on your own. You weren't tired at all, so after eating dinner you spent time with Caius and Marcus, trying to figure out what you could do together to get to know each other better. Unfortunately, Aro was obliged to attend to some important business, but in this case, you had already established some kind of a bond with him.

Caius and Marcus deeply respected your wish not to touch you in any way. You visited the library and were sure you had simply fallen in love. Sadly, most of the books were written in languages the existence of which you were previously unaware. Marcus was more than happy to offer you to study with him. To begin with, learning Italian. You had not yet discovered what Caius liked to do, but you were sure you would soon find out.

When they too had to attend to important matters, they escorted you to your room, and you decided it would be a good idea to call Bella. Not just about the house, but generally to let her know you were alive. When you’ve finally reached her, you both couldn’t shut up.

“Hi, sister!” you squeaked, overly excited. You heard her laugh.

“Hi! Are you fine, [Y/N]? I was starting to worry, the only thing that kept me from calling you was Alice,” she said and you laughed.

“Hi [Y/N]!” you heard Alice in the background. You threw yourself on the bed, so that you could lie on your stomach. You hugged your pillow and made yourself comfortable.

“Hi Alice!” you greeted her, smiling to yourself like a mad person, who you probably were, given the circumstances. “I’m happy to hear you, Bella, seriously. Are you at Cullen’s place?” you asked curious, as where Alice came from.

“Yeah, exactly. We were all worried here, you know” she admitted, you heard how anxious she was. You couldn’t help it but laughed.

“Well, how could you leave me in the lion's den like that” you joked and heard someone’s laugh.

“She’s fun. I need to meet her” you heard again and also laughed.

“This will probably happen sooner rather than later,” you answer to this mystery someone with confidence. Bella’s side fell silent. “But, you know, I guess I’m okay. I had fifteen hours of sleep today and the best scrambled eggs in my entire life” you admitted cheerfully, thinking about you waking up and eating your breakfast in Aro’s presence. You smiled widely. You heard someone talking in the background, but you had no idea what was this all about.

“That’s good because I was worried sick when we got out of that room” Bella admitted, trying to sound not too worried, though.

“It’s better than fine, you know. And how are you? You seriously were as white as a sheet while in throne room” you said and this was your turn to be worried about Bella again. “Hey, and I hope this asshole isn’t going to leave you again. My threat is in force,” you said in a threatening tone, knowing that Edward could definitely hear it. You heard the same laugh as before plus Bella’s laugh.

“I’m sure he’ll not be doing it again. Carlisle has already scolded him decently.”

Your heart ached a little after hearing Carlisle’s name. You thought he was your friend, or maybe it was beginning of friendship, and now you had no idea what to think about it at all.

“Good. How are you, Bells?” you asked again, hugging your pillow tightly.

“I’m okay, really, [Y/N]. No need to worry about me.”

Of course you were going to worry about her. She was just like a little sister to you. No way you’d stop worrying. Suddenly, you remembered what happened in the throne room and became seriously concerned.

“Have you set a date?” you asked, and again, the other side fell silent. This time completely. You sighed heavily. “I’m not a spy, you know, but I’m worried about you. We will need to talk about all of this. I get why didn’t you tell me, but, seriously Bella, your self-preservation instinct does not exist,” you scolded her, just a little. You had a feeling that she gave no fucks, no matter what anyone could say about this situation.

“Says the “I’m staying here, Bella” person” she gritted out with sarcasm. You rolled your eyes.

“One, they wouldn’t let me leave. Two, you were in danger and I was alright with sacrificing myself to save you. Three…” this time you fell silent, realising something important. “…I wouldn’t go. I’m not able to. This bond, whatever it is, it’s strong shit. You probably now it, as you have this with Edward. I have got it triple.”

After really long moment of complete silence, Bella spoke up.

“Why would you sacrifice yourself for me?” she asked, her question as heavy as storm clouds. You sighed.

“Because I’ve got nothing to live for, ya know? I was prepared that I wouldn’t get out alive,” you admitted with sad voice, but it was downright true.

“You’re pregnant, [Y/N]” she said, like it was something, which could immediately improve your well-being and quality of life. You felt like throwing up.

“Yeah. I’m pregnant with the child I don’t want, with a man I’ve never met, who forced himself on me and made my life more miserable than it already was. I should probably send him a card or something because, guess what, I’ve never considered that my life is going to be more crappy than it already was after my parents’ death.”

When you ended the sentence and no one said anything, you just sighed heavily.

“You’ve got the date set?” you asked again, merely curious about this and to change the topic.

“Not yet” she said, her voice sad and full of emotions.

“Then do it. They’re patient, to some extent, but don't tempt fate. I don’t want to attend yet another funeral,” you said bitterly, trying not to think at all.

“How can you be so calm about all of this?” Bella snapped suddenly, making you shift uncomfortably on bed.

“And how you can be so calm? How was this your fucking plan from the very beginning? Once again, I try to understand you, while not understanding you at all” you snapped too, tired of any games. Before she could answer, you continued:

“I’m not coming back. I wanted to ask you if you could go to my house and get some things, I can make you a list if it’s going to be easier.”

You thought telling her this right away would be better than if she wasn’t aware for weeks or months.

“What?! Why aren’t you coming back?” she asked with raised voice. You wanted to shout and scream but you didn’t. It was too much for one day.

“Because I’ve got nothing to come back to. You’re going to be a vampire anyway, so I’ll see you in some time. I’m selling the house and I want to leave the past exactly where it belongs” you explained, trying not to yell. The hormone fluctuations didn't make it easy for you at all.

Another silence. You were tired of all of this.

“Can you do this for me, Bella? Because if you can’t, I’m sure…”

She didn’t let you finish.

“Of course I’ll do it for you. Can we talk tomorrow about the details?” she asked, her voice calmed a bit.

“Yeah, sure. It’s well after midnight here anyway, so I should probably go to sleep. I’ve got doctor’s appointment tomorrow in the afternoon” you said, trying to sound casually. Last thing you needed now was to argue about anything with Bella.

“Okay, so, call me tomorrow?” she asked. “And be safe.”

“You too, Bells. Take care. I love you, sis” you said, trying to stop the forthcoming tears.

“I love you too, [Y/N].”

Long after this phone call, you couldn’t get yourself to sleep. You tried bath this time, but it was mostly useless. At least, you were clean. First time after the rape, you decided to touch your belly on purpose. It began to curve gently, and, apart from that, you still felt pain and pressure in your breasts. You put on a nightdress and went to bed, this time actually trying to get some sleep. You also tried not to think too much about what the future would bring.

[titan-fodder]

Prima Vista Part IV

[ previous ]

Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x fem!reader wc: ~ 9.6k

Warning: a big helping of abandonment/daddy issues, lots of feelings, explicit sexual content A/N: y’all are gonna be so soft and then so mad lmao. 

The plan was to go to Mike's house then back to campus. You said you didn't have anything to do at your mom's, that a long phone call would suffice, which is why Mike is confused when you ask him if you can stop by before going back. It's an hour out of the way, but it's not like he has anything better to do, and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't curious about your humble beginnings. 

 The house is in a decent-looking neighborhood, small, nearly identical one-story homes surrounded by cracked sidewalks. He has to be careful not to trip as you make your way to the front porch, pots of dead or dying plants along the edges of it. You shove your key into the lock, twist and open, then motion for Mike to follow. 

 The den is dimly lit, ceiling fan above with only one working bulb. A crime show is playing on the TV but there's no one watching. There is, however, another light pouring from a back room, and as soon as you drop your bag on the couch, a head pokes out from the doorway. 

 "Baby girl!" A shrill voice cries, and Mike sees you grimace. "I thought you weren't coming by!" 

 A woman walks into the den wearing long, cotton shorts and an old tie-dye shirt then pulls you into a hug so tight that it makes you cough. 

 "Mom," you take a deep breath as if to refill your lungs with all the air that was pushed from them. "This is Mike."

 He holds out a hand and smiles, but all your mother does is stare with round eyes and blurt, "Oh, he's a big boy." 

 "My fucking god." You don't yell or whine, just pinch the bridge of your nose and mumble, "Just shake his hand please." 

 "Sorry, I'm sorry, just was not expecting… You didn't tell me how tall he was."

 "'Cause it doesn't matter. Why would I—nevermind," you cut yourself off, face falling flat just like your voice. 

 Mike isn't sure if he should be flattered or offended or embarrassed, so he just ignores the comment entirely and says, "Nice to meet you." 

 You make your escape to the back, dragging Mike with you before shutting your bedroom door and leaning against it. 

 "Mom is a little weird, but you'll always know where you stand with her," you tell him. "Also, sorry about the house. She’s a teacher, so she’s usually pretty beat at the end of the day. Not enough energy to do a lotta cleaning."

 "Didn't even notice," he reassures you. 

 Mike unpacks his bag next to you, and you gather the dirty clothes from both yours and his, balling them up and taking them with you out to the garage to throw into the washing machine. Mike should have done it at his parents', but as you were packing up that morning, his mother got all teary eyed and his dad just kept shaking your tiny hands and telling you to come back, so it just didn’t happen. 

 Back in the living room, your mom is sitting in an old rocking chair, and Mike thinks you'll take a seat on the adjacent couch, but instead you ask, "You need help with anything? Dishes or vacuuming or somethin'?"

 She looks up at you, fly-away hairs sticking out around her temples and forehead and responds, "It'd be nice if you could do the dishes. I just haven't gotten around to it."

 "Can do," you nod and walk into the kitchen, opening the dishwasher and making a displeased noise at the dirty plates and bowls inside. There's room for a few more, but once it's full and running, you just clean what's left in the sink by hand. Mike finds a towel, stands next to you, and holds his hand out for every scrubbed dish, drying it and placing it in the rack to hopefully be put up later. 

 "You hungry?" You ask when you're done and drying your hands. "It's almost one."

 "Uh, yeah. I could eat." 

 Truthfully, he's starving having only had a small breakfast at his parents'. He doesn't want to say that, though, doesn't want you making a big meal for him or apologizing for anything. 

 "Sandwiches okay?" 

 Something in your tone has him on edge. Your voice is too quiet, deflecting downward as if you're forcing each word from your mouth. 

 "Yeah," he nods. "If you get the stuff, I can make 'em." Mostly so that you can relax but also because there's no way he's gonna let you make him a fucking sandwich. 

 You shrug your shoulders, grab bread, lunchmeat, cheese, and condiments, then say, "You can make ours. I'll make mom's."

 He knows he's missing something, but he doesn't know what, and right now he's too afraid to ask. 

 He eats next to you on the couch, you and your mom watching TV as Mike tries to subtly glance around. Mounted shelves are decorated with dusty, mismatched figurines, cracks opening at the corners where the walls meet the roof. The brick fireplace is stacked high with plastic tubs and books, probably from your mother’s classroom, and the carpet has seen better days. 

 Mike isn't judging—not in the least—but he has a feeling he knows why being here puts you in a sour mood. The house feels lived in, cluttered and cozy and worn around the edges, but it's still empty somehow. 

 After the three of you are finished eating, you take the paper plates and dispose of them, then tell your mom that you'll be in your room. She gives you a soft smile that you struggle to return.

 It's a little more you in the bedroom, blue walls covered in old posters and collages, a quilt similar to the one in your dorm folded at the bottom of your bed. Your pillow cases are faded and covered in an old flower design that matches your sheets, and there's a small nightstand next to the headboard that's bare on top with wrinkled papers poking out of the bottom drawer. 

 "It's not much, but if you wanna snoop around like I always do, feel free." 

 Mike doesn't really want to, especially since you already seem so uncomfortable in what should be a safe space for you. The only thing he feels okay investigating is the old bookshelf next to your closet—mostly YA novels, some poetry books, an old set of The Lord of the Rings series, a textbook over rocks and minerals and another over volcanoes. Tucked away in the bottom shelf is a tiny booklet that looks like a photo album, and Mike has to fight the urge to pull it from its place and flip through the plastic pages. Anything to get to know you better. 

 You lay in bed, eyes locked on the ceiling, and Mike doesn't know what to do. There's a very small TV sitting on your dresser, an old DVD player next to it, so he figures he'll save both you and himself from talking by picking out a movie. 

 He fingers through them, not that there's a lot, just skims the spines until he pulls out a copy of Space Jam. You only glance at the screen when the intro starts, and Mike immediately zeroes in on the way your jaw sets and your brows furrow. 

 "I can pick something else," he tells you quietly. 

 You take a deep breath and shake your head. Slowly but surely your features begin to soften. 

 "'S'fine."

 "Are you sure?" 

 "Yeah. My, uh…" You swallow loud enough from Mike to hear, neck bobbing with the motion. "My dad and I used to watch it all the time."

 He doesn't know what to make of it or how to respond. In the months he's known you, Mike has never heard you mention your father a single time, and he's never asked in fear of what your response might be. 

 He moves your quilt to sit on the very edge of the bed, a little too tense as he heavily contemplates ignoring what you'd said and still switching movies. 

 "You can lay down, you know," you mumble. "I'm not gonna bite you."

 "You have before," he tries to act casual, but it comes out too stiffly.

 You laugh through your nose— "Suit yourself—" then get more comfortable on the mattress. 

 Michael Jordan gets pulled into a golf hole and the Loony Toons journey to retrieve his shoes from the real world. Mike is barely paying attention, more focused on the way your breathing evens out until it becomes slow and deep. 

 That's good. You could use a nap. 

 He watches you for a while, the way your eyelashes flutter against your cheeks and your lips part. You're all curled up on yourself, hands tucked under your chin, knees to your stomach, and Mike wants to slip behind you so badly, to pull you to his chest and lay with you until his heartbeat syncs with yours. 

 But first. 

 As carefully as he can, Mike stands from the bed and glides to the bookcase. He lowers himself in front of it, quickly finding what he's looking for and pulls it from the shelf. 

 It's a small little album, full of polaroids and old pictures cut in half. The first page sets the tone for the rest of the booklet, a photo of a very small you outside eating a popsicle next to a man that is most definitely your dad. You've got a similar facial structure as well as his coloring. Not to mention the expression he's wearing is one Mike has seen you make many times before. 

 The next picture is the two of you dressed up for an event. He's in a striped Polo and slacks while you're in a little checkered dress, a rose corsage on your tiny wrist. Some kind of father-daughter dance, Mike guesses. 

 Sitting on his lap at a fair, a chubby little boy a few years older than you standing close with a stuffed snake around his neck. A party where you're posed with an honestly frightening costume character. You in a bright, mesh jersey standing back to back with your dad, arms crossed, looking at the camera with your chins tilted upward. 

 They all look like good memories. The little boy in the fair picture appears several more times, and as he loses his baby fat, Mike sees the resemblance he shares with you and your father. It's too close to be a cousin—your eyes and mouths shaped the same—so he must be your brother. 

 Mike doesn't know how to feel about that because again, you've never uttered a word. As far as he knew, you were an only child, so why…

 He gets lost in the pages, watching you grow and pose mostly next to your dad. Smiles and laughs and silly faces with your tongues sticking out. Your mom is in some, brother in others, and then, you're in a cap and gown, grinning widely next to your dad who's beginning to gray at the temples. His own smile is barely there now, a ghost of what was seen in the previous photos. It's forced, it's sad, and it's the last picture in the book. 

 Mike's chest hurts. He wonders what happened, when exactly you'd lost him. Was it a quick goodbye, or had it been drawn out and painful? Had he been sick for a long time? He'd looked perfectly healthy in all the shots. Maybe a car accident that took both him and your brother…

 He flips to check for one last photo on the back of the page, but it's empty. However, tucked in a tiny, paper pocket is a folded up note that Mike stares at for a few solid minutes, debating the pros and cons of reading it. He knows he's already violated your privacy by looking through the album, and fuck, he's only been in your house for a couple hours at most—how has he already managed to tumble down such a humongous rabbit hole? 

 Your tiny snores reach his ears, and Mike gently pulls the note out, biting his lip as he unfolds it as quietly as possible. It's soft, like it's been read too many times, and the letters scribbled in all caps are beginning to fade, but the words are still legible. 

 It starts with your name, and then it's all apologies—sorry I can't stay, I have to leave, you don't understand how much this hurts me and so on. 

 Mike's eyebrows pull together the further he reads, blood pounding against the walls of his arteries, pulse picking up because he understands now.

 Your father wasn't in any sort of accident; he just left. 

 The letter ends with a gut-wrenching, You'll always be my little girl, and Mike nearly crumples the paper up to throw away. He resists somehow, simply folds it with shaky hands and slips it back into the pocket at the back of the album. 

 He's never been so mad at a stranger in his life. This must be it. This must be why you are—

 "Should've known you'd go straight for the photo album." 

 Your voice makes Mike's body jolt, his face heating as he turns to look at you with wide eyes. 

 "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean—"

 You wave him off and prop yourself up on an elbow. "It's whatever."

 But, it's not. It's this huge part of you that still affects you to this day. Mike is no psychologist, but he has a pretty good feeling this is the main reason you hold everyone at arm's length. 

 "Why didn't you ever tell me?" 

 "What's there to tell?" 

 Sitting up fully, your gaze moves to the screen just in time to see Michael Jordan step off of the spaceship and onto the baseball field. I Believe I Can Fly is playing, and you're gritting your teeth. 

 "It's not anything that comes up in normal conversation anyway. I wasn't just gonna hit you with it outta nowhere. Also," you look back to Mike, eyes still sleepy, lips pulling downward in a frown. "I'm not the only one who hid stuff about my family."

 Mike sighs and quietly tells you, "That's different," as he closes the album and slides it back into the row of books. 

 "Is it, though? Is it really?" 

 "I..." 

 Mike shuts his mouth and actually thinks on it. He wasn't trying to lie to you about his home life or his heritage. He's only half Greek on his mom's side, after all, and he's only been to the country to visit family a couple of times—once when he was a child and once right before college. The culture is a little different over there, but it all seems so natural to him, especially after being raised to speak the language. 

 Honestly, he didn't ever tell you because he didn't think to, but Mike can understand the shock of walking into his childhood home and getting thrown through that loop. It must have been jarring for you. 

 It's a positive aspect of his life, though. It's not something that's damaged him or made him cold toward others. And, he hates describing you in such a way, but it's true.

 At least it makes sense now. 

 "I guess not," he shrugs. He's not about to fight you on it. 

 You stare at him for a while, waking up a bit more as you rub your eyes and stretch. 

 Then, you flop back down on your pillows. 

 "So. Any questions, Zacharias?" 

 He's surprised that you're asking, and though he doesn't want to twist the metaphorical knife in your gut, he still replies honestly: "Too many."

 A long exhale through your nose, and then you're patting the mattress next to you and grumbling, "Fine, I'll do my best, but you gotta come up here."

 "Why? You gonna need to cuddle afterward?" He can't help but tease. 

 "Fuckin' maybe, dude! We're about to get into my god damn trauma so—"

 Mike is up on his feet and flying toward the bed. He isn't about to sabotage the one fucking moment you're opening yourself up. 

 "Alright, what first?" You ask, trying to look bored, but Mike can clearly see that you're nervous. 

 "He left." 

 "Yeah."

 And then he gets the full story. 

 Your dad was pretty perfect during your younger years—a bit of a workaholic but still good. He took you to dances like the one you'd both dressed for in the photograph. You'd spend days at amusement parks where he'd carry you on his shoulders. He coached the basketball team you'd played on as a child.

 "Not saying he played favorites, but I was definitely closer to him than my brother was."

 The brother who developed a drug problem at fourteen, who was always either out with his little addict friends or at home where he would just scream at you and your mom. 

 "He went to rehab a couple times, but it didn't stick." 

 He left home at seventeen and hasn't gotten in touch with you or your parents since. 

 "I keep thinking one day we'll get a call from the police saying they found his wallet on a fucking corpse, but who knows. Maybe he got clean. Maybe he started a family somewhere else. He'd be twenty-five now."

 "Were you ever close with him?"

 You shrug. "We spent a lot of time together when we were really little, but even back then he was kinda a mean kid."

 It very quickly circles back to your father. Mike still doesn't feel like he has all the answers, so he asks through the skin of his lip, "Why'd he leave?"

 At this point, you've got your head in his lap as he sits against the wall. He smooths your hair back from your face every once in a while, something his mom used to do to him when he was very young that always soothed him. 

 He hopes it's having the same effect on you, thinks it might be considering you've had your eyes closed for a while now, humming now and then as you talk. 

 "Honestly, I don't really know. I don't think he and my mom were ever in love. Like, they just kinda settled for each other," you sigh. "They didn't have a lot in common. They had different upbringings. But, they didn't fight or anything—not in front of us. They were good at hiding the hard times from me and my brother. They just didn't… click."

 Mike bites his tongue, wonders if that was hard to watch or if you'd been too naive to notice. 

 Then, there's his second train of thought that's really just the voice in his head screaming, we click, though! You and I work! But he keeps it to himself. This isn't about you and him. 

 "I think maybe dad had, like, a 'stay together for the kids' mentality 'cause as soon as I graduated, he was fuckin' gone. And, I mean gone. We went to a graduation party the next weekend that lasted a few hours—just me and mom—and when we got back his truck wasn't in the driveway and his drawers were empty. He left that note you read on my desk."

 Mike breathes. Just breathes. He tries to make sense of it, how someone could just do that without a real reason. There hadn't been any explanation in the letter, only apologies. 

 "Have you seen him since?" 

 You open your eyes and reply, "Nope," popping the 'p'. "I don't know where he is, and he hasn't reached out. Mom made the drive to my grandma's—his mom—but she said she didn't know where he was either. Pretty sure she was covering for him, though. She was always kind of a bitch. You know, save for the whole paying for my college and all."

 Mike snorts at this, not that there's anything funny about the situation. It's just his first reaction. 

 You ignore it, moving on with an, "Anyway."

 "Anyway," he mimics. 

 "I don't know if you've noticed in the short time you've been here, but my mom is a little… off. Not super good at taking care of herself."

 "Is this why?" 

 "Clever boy," you show a bitter smile. "I didn't really understand since they weren't, like, in love or whatever, but… I think it was the betrayal more than anything. Like, it came outta nowhere, a big ol' slap in the face."

 "Plus, he left you behind," Mike adds, as if you don't already know. 

 Looking up at him, you raise your eyebrows and smirk. "And, now you know about my abandonment issues." The last part comes out in high-pitched, melodic syllables, a little song that would be funny if Mike didn't know it was a coping mechanism. It most definitely is, though. He can tell that you're the type to mask every issue with humor and sarcasm. It's how you've been dealing with him for the last several months. 

 "So, that's my story," you conclude on an exhale. "Now you know all my dirty secrets."

 "For some reason I don't think that's all of them," Mike pets your hair again. "But, probably the important ones."

 "Mm. I guess."

 The rest of the day is really just spent killing time. You cook an easy dinner that you refuse to let Mike help with, then sit in the den with your mom just like you did at lunch. A medical show is playing. Then a reality show. Then a game show. None of you say much of anything, and it's painfully awkward for Mike now that he knows what happened, but he can power through a few days of this if it makes you feel better. 

 Hours pass until you can retreat, and moonlight shines through your bedroom window, not that Mike needs it. He's memorized your body at this point, knows where to touch without even seeing. He makes sure to be gentle, to suckle and blow on your pebbled nipples as you card fingers through his hair and breathe faster and faster. 

 Leaving love bites down your chest and stomach, he sucks on your skin, gently grazing his teeth over every bruise. Mike wants you to see them all the next day—not a staked claim, just something you can't ignore when you look in the mirror, evidence of his feelings in every mark. 

 When you're finally nice and relaxed, he spreads your legs and licks into you, trying not to be too rough with his beard, but a few swipes of it over your clit leave you shaking in his grasp. You whisper his name, the common one that everyone knows him by, but then, rolling off your tongue like a prayer, you call him, "Miche," and he can't help the rumble that rises in his chest. 

 It should be strange. That's the name only his family uses, the one he was born with. He only simplified it so that kids in school wouldn't ask questions or make fun of him, and after that, it just sort of stuck. But, here and now, falling from your lips, it's so soft. So intimate. 

 You whimper when he sucks on your folds, making them swell, making them sensitive. And then, he's pushing his tongue inside of you and humming happily at the taste. His nose is bumping against your clit, and Christ, you even smell good to him—that ripe, tangy aroma that has Mike going a little crazy. He has to make sure he doesn't get too carried away. You can't make very much noise even with the rattling of the air conditioner, but as he slowly slides a finger into your pussy, he hears you moan around the fist you're holding to your mouth. 

 He stretches you just enough to get you ready, then he holds himself over you and pushes into your wet cunt. Your eyes are open, locked with Mike's as your brow raises and your jaw drops. It's erotic, something you've never done with him before. You typically either gaze somewhere other than his face or keep your eyes squeezed shut. 

 Tonight, though, you've been vulnerable and apparently want to stay that way for a little while longer. 

 He bends to catch you in a kiss, lips and tongues moving just as slowly as his hips, and when you reach to tug at Mike's hair, he pants into your mouth. 

 Those words are there again, stuck in his throat but slowly crawling upward until they're just there, pouring from his tongue, "I lo—"

 Until you cut him off with a sharp, "Don't."

 He makes a noise of frustration, wants to protest because he's so deep inside of you, and you're holding onto him like you want him—truly want him, but you mutter once more against his lips, "Don't say it, Miche."

 So, he doesn't. He bottles the confession up and keeps it locked away, hoping like hell that one day you'll let him tell you. 

 After you climax and coat his cock in slick and cream, he gives a few more thrusts and comes inside of you, filling you with himself and wondering why you're so willing to accept him in that way but not in any other. 

 He's hurting again, like he did at his parents' as you walked around like you belonged there. Except it's worse now. 

 If you don't want him to say it, that means you don't want to say it back. 

 He stays with you for a few more minutes before pulling out. You leave to clean up, and while you're gone, Mike sits on the edge of the bed, head in his hands as he tries to get it all out of his system, whispering it out loud to himself: 

 I love you. I love you, I love you.  

 You still let him hold you as you fall asleep, gripping his hand until you can't anymore, and as Mike drifts off behind you, he has one last thought—Just let me.

* There’s only three weeks left of the semester when you head back to campus, and you intend to make the most of every passing day. 

 You pay better attention in class. You study harder in the library to prepare for final exams. You go to a few more Pi Alpha Kappa parties, making sure not to burn yourself out. And, you let Mike fuck your brains out every few days. Sometimes it’s late at night after those parties. Sometimes you're too tired after the nights of drinking and end up just going to bed only to wake up in the morning and have slow, sleepy sex. Sometimes it’s in the middle of the afternoon when you both have breaks between classes.

 Neither of you bring up anything that happened over the break—meeting families, details about your childhoods, how much you learned about one another in general.

 Most importantly, neither of you address that first night at your mom’s, the way Mike had basically worshiped your body, how he’d come so close to uttering the three words you least want to hear. 

 Thinking about it still makes your chest tighten, your heart beat faster. Sometimes when you’re sharing his bed with him, back pressed to his chest, large arm slung over your waist, you think about why it is you’re so vehemently against it. The two of you already act like a couple most of the time. You walk with each other to class when you can. You stick to each other’s sides at parties. You fuck like rabbits and don’t care who knows about it. 

 And, though you’re hesitant to admit it even to yourself, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have feelings for him. Mike is your best friend at this point. He’s insanely hot. He’s goofy. He’s kind. Yeah, the frat boy persona he puts on around his friends is annoying, but you understand it a little better now. Plus, he always takes off the mask when he’s alone with you, giving both you and himself a break from it.

 You know your time with him is quickly coming to an end—for about two months, at least—and whenever you think too hard about it, it makes you pout and huff. You’re not looking forward to your summer classes without him, but he promises on several occasions that you can call him while he’s at his parents’ if you ever need help with the material.

 It’s impressive, the way he’s able to act like nothing happened. You know it must be troubling him, but it’s not like you can do anything to soothe him. If he was really upset with you, he would have stopped spending time with you, but he hasn’t. He just bottles it up, keeps smiling at you all crookedly, and keeps satisfying you in the bedroom (more than satisfying honestly. There’s really not a word to describe what he does).

 He’s back to getting along with everyone in the Pike house, everyone being Erwin. It’s a relief just because you don’t have to put up with the tension between them, but it’s also awkward. And, a little frightening. 

 The brothers have Smash Brothers tournaments and movie nights, a few date parties here and there, and it never fails that at some point during the evenings, you find your neck prickling as it always does when you feel someone staring at you. You always hope it’s Mike. Fuck, you wish it was him. But, when you glance up and around, it’s Erwin. Every time. His deep blue eyes are trained on you, the corner of his mouth twitching upward on one side. It doesn’t matter if he’s alone or if he’s got Maddie or some other girl sitting in his lap. He's fucking shameless, and it makes your stomach hurt.

 You keep your mouth shut for the sake of the friendship but also for the sake of Erwin’s pretty face. If he and Mike ever got into an actual fight, Erwin would probably be able to get a good few punches in, but you’re nearly positive Mike would end up destroying him in the long run. That could get him kicked out of school. That could get him thrown in jail. 

 Finals roll around, and you manage to pass all of them without issue, even getting grades above the class average. You feel fantastic, like your long term goals might actually be attainable. You have a long road ahead of you, but your GPA at the end of the year is more than enough to raise your confidence. 

 Mike asks you to come back to his house for the couple weeks between the end of the semester and the start of your summer courses, but you turn him down, too scared of what might happen while you’re there. Acting like a couple in front of his parents will only exacerbate his feelings as well as yours, and you’d like to avoid that as best you can. 

 Even now as you’re standing outside by the Jeep, he tries to persuade you one last time, almost pleading, “Are you sure you don’t wanna come?”

 “Miche, I’m sure,” you tell him, trying to stay stern, but it’s hard when his sea glass eyes light up at the sound of his real name. It’s a habit you’ve gotten into, a bad one considering how much he likes it. How much you like it. “I already told you I wanna spend the free time I have at mom’s. I need to check up on her and… Probably clean, honestly.”

 He lets out a little grunt of disappointment, then nods. “Yeah, I get it.”

 “You saw what she’s like,” you remind him. “Someone needs to drop in every once in a while to make sure she isn’t, like, wasting away or something.”

 “Makes sense. I’ll be bummed, though.”

 “Be bummed all you want,” you smile. “I’ll probably still bother you over break. A lot.”

 He sounds terribly sincere when he mumbles, “You never bother me.” It makes your stomach flip in the way you do not enjoy.

 Mike sighs, taking in one of those deep breaths that makes his broad chest rise then fall, calling attention to it and making you bite your bottom lip. 

 “Alright, I should get going,” he concedes, bending down to kiss you too deeply for simple friends with benefits. It doesn’t stop you from humming into his mouth and smiling against him. You hold him by the back of his neck as he pulls your body close to his, his voice muffled when he tells you mischievously, “Don’t forget to send pictures.”

 It makes you laugh, and you lean back to swipe your tongue over his lips so that he groans and chases after you. 

 “I promise I will. Perv.” The beating sun is nothing in comparison to the way your body heats at the thought. You’ve sent him nudes before, but the idea of him looking at them from hours away, fisting his cock as he admires your body through his phone… It makes seeing him off even harder.

 After a couple more softer kisses, Mike swings into the Wrangler and pulls out of the lot. You stand in his parking space and watch him until he’s out of sight, then walk back to your dorm, dragging your feet the whole way. 

 You only stay at your mom’s house for a week, and just like you predicted, you spend most of it cleaning. She thanks you the whole time but makes excuses in between. You just reassure her that you don’t mind even though you do. She really should see a therapist and sort out the depression she’s been stuck in for a few years now, but telling someone they need professional help is easier said than done. 

 Sleeping in your old bed is much harder this time around. You're all too aware of the weight that isn't behind you, and most nights you lay awake for at least a couple of hours trying to imagine it. 

 Like you’d promised, you send him a few pictures, some of them just lewd selfies with your tits pouring out of the cups of your bra, but others are of your naked body in the bathtub, sometimes a shot of you with your hand between your legs. It feels wrong to touch yourself in your childhood home, but it’s necessary, especially when Mike sends you a few pictures of his own—one with his torso on display, defined abs absolutely mouthwatering and the V of his hips suggestively leading into mesh shorts. Another is of him in the gray joggers he wears all the time, the ones that always show off his cock. 

 He’s so fucking hot it atually hurts, makes your pussy throb as you crave his touch. It’s an awful feeling honestly, but even worse than that is the way you miss him. You aren’t supposed to miss him. You’re just supposed to be friends who have sex. Nothing more than that.

 It's why you’re glad to go back to school. Your classes will distract you, keep you from thinking about him too much. The semester is shorter during the summer, so you have to work even harder than you do during fall and spring. You don’t really think it’ll be a problem since you’re trying to cram your brain full of anything other than Mike which is great motivation for studying. 

 Nothing is gonna get you off track, you tell yourself. Nothing will interfere with your studies. That’s the plan.

 Then, you meet Zeke Jaeger. 

* You're studying in the library. It seems like you spend most of your time here, nice and quiet and empty. The campus isn't nearly as busy in the summer as it is during the rest of the school year. No parties, no sporting events, just you alone with your books. 

 It's nice. Most of the time. A little boring but mostly nice. 

 Your eyes are getting tired, and when you check your phone, you realize why. It's almost eleven PM, meaning you've been studying for about six hours. You've had longer nights, usually spent on the phone getting quizzed on the information you're learning with a few breaks in between, but that wasn't the case tonight as Mike had to spend the day with family from out of town. 

 It's okay. You're supposed to be distancing yourself anyway. 

 Taking a deep breath, you pack up your books and slide your laptop into your bag, then stand and swing it over your shoulder. 

 The strap is too long. The bag swings too hard, and your heart sinks when you hear a little grunt followed by a, "Agh, hot!" 

 Turning with wide eyes, you immediately start apologizing, "I'm so sorry, oh my god, fuck, I'm so sorry!"

 A head of light blond hair looks up from the brown stain on his white t-shirt, icy blue eyes narrowed behind wire-rimmed glasses, but when he sees the mortification on your face, his own expression softens, and he chuckles. 

 "It's fine. You can calm down."

 You're still breathing heavily, guilt making your hands shake, but he really doesn't look angry. In fact, he's grinning now, eyebrows raised like he's amused. 

 The longer you stare at him, the more familiar he looks. You're pretty sure you've seen him before. Many times before, actually, and then it clicks that this guy is on the front page of the school website. You see him every fucking time you log in, looking much more stern than he does now. Baseball hat and jersey, mitt on one hand as he hides his other in it, and yeah, you know him. 

 "You're Zeke Jaeger."

 He makes a face, scrunching his nose up and squinting. "Yeeeeah, I guess I am."

 Best pitcher in the college league despite being a sophomore like you. He's beaten the records of some major league players. 

 You don't give a fuck about baseball, have never even been to any of the school's games, but you've been hearing about Zeke since the last season. You've learned to tune it out because, again, no shits given (and also you're much more partial to lacrosse now), but he's hard to ignore when he's staring you right in the face. 

 "Well, uh," you try to act casual. It's something you're pretty good at these days. "Cool."

 He snorts, picking his shirt off his chest to air it out like it'll help, then says, "I don't know your name, though."

 You run your tongue over your teeth, wondering why he cares, then introduce yourself. 

 "Oh, you're Zacharias' little girlfriend, aren't you?"

 Your stomach flips at the mention of him. 

 "We're not dating."

 Zeke cocks his head to the side. "No?"

 "No. Just friends."

 He hums but doesn't say anything, and your eyes are once again drawn to his chest as he fans over the stain. 

 "Okay, let me get you a new shirt or something," you try. 

 He laughs again. "I highly doubt you've got a men's shirt tucked in that bag of yours, sweetheart."

 "I—" you pout for a second, mumble, "Okay, yeah, fair point."

 "Another coffee, though," he muses out loud. "Wouldn't be the worst thing."

 You shoot him a finger gun and smack your lips. "On it. Where do you get coffee at eleven o'clock?"

 "I'll walk with you," he states more than offers. 

 Then, you're both leaving the library, leaving campus, and going to a little 24 hour cafe where you blow on lattes and cover the basics about each other—philosophy major, valedictorian of his high school class, playing baseball since age seven, etc. You should sleep. You should get ready for another long day of studying.  

 But it's hard to make good decisions when Zeke Jaeger is smirking at you from across the table like you're the most interesting thing he's ever seen. 

* Zeke gets your number that night. You're not exactly sure how, but he does. 

 Then he doesn’t text you for three days. It doesn’t bother you that much. You figure he has other things to focus on. He’s on campus to take a couple courses and practice for the upcoming season, so he’s probably just busy. If that night had just been a one-off, it’s fine with you. It was cool to talk to him, but your heart isn’t broken.

 These are all the thoughts and justifications running through your head when you’re in class on Tuesday and your phone lights up during the PowerPoint lecture. You glance down, expecting Mike or Hitch, but it’s an unknown number instead. Eyes flicking from the projection screen to your much tinier one, you slide to open the message and chew on your lip. 

 Hey, it’s Zeke. You have classes this afternoon?

 You do not. And, you are too quick to tell him that.

 He takes you to a little Mom and Pop restaurant, too far to walk so you end up riding in the black Bronco he drives, trying to convince yourself that it definitely does not make him any more attractive to you. Because you aren’t attracted to him in the first place. Right?

 You sit at a table for two eating paninis and fruit. Zeke asks how classes are going, you ask about practice, and as you talk, he gets that look in his eyes again, like you amuse him or interest him or something.

 It confuses you, and for a moment, you’re taken back to last fall at that first Pi Kappa Alpha party, the one you met Mike at when he tried to get you to shotgun a beer. God, he had been so obnoxious back then, always following you around and flirting and—

 “You listening, sweetheart?”

 Your eyes refocus on the man in front of you, his raised eyebrows and little smirk. “Looks like you’re a million miles away. Sorry if I’m boring you.”

 “No, no,” you try to defend. “I just zoned out for a second. Realized I, uh, got an answer wrong on the quiz I took today.”

 “That sucks,” he hums. “Anyway, I can stop talking about baseball.”

 “It’s okay. Just go over the last, like, ten seconds,” you say with a laugh, hoping your cheeks will stop burning sooner rather than later.

 Zeke chuckles and does just that, doesn’t seem irritated or put out. He tells you about how he has a new trainer this year to warm him up and make sure his throwing arm is in top shape. “I hope he’s as good as my last. Colt was always on it, knew exactly how hot to make the warm compresses and how cold to make the ice packs. Stuff like that. He learned my needs.”

 You both laugh, and if it was anyone else, you’d have an innuendo sliding off your tongue, but for some reason, you don’t think Zeke would want to hear it, like he’d be unimpressed with your vulgar humor. 

 Back at the college, he drives you to your dorm, explaining that he lives in the apartments on the other side of campus and wouldn’t want to make you walk that far. Then, as you slide out of the Bronco, he stops you with a smooth, “Hey,” that makes you look over your shoulder at him. “Make sure you save my number in your phone, okay? I’ll text you soon.”

 The way your stomach flips is worrisome, a feeling you’re only used to when you’re with…

 “Yeah, okay.”

 He grins widely and nods, then waits for you to get a good distance away from the car before driving off.

 No distractions, you’d said. It’ll be good for your focus, you’d said. 

 What a fucking joke. 

*

Mike has to help you with some homework that weekend. You can hear his smile through the phone, snort when he makes his little nerd jokes, then sigh when he gets to the actual subject and explains it to you without a problem. His brain is incredible, and when you think about it too hard, it makes you warm inside. 

 “You’re so fucking smart. Why don’t you let people know?”

 “Maybe I just want you to know,” he chuckles. “You think I wanna spend my days tutoring every idiot who needs help?”

 “Miche, did you just call me an idiot?”

 You hear another breathy laugh followed by a sigh. “I have many, many names for you, but ‘idiot’ isn’t one of them.”

 “Oh yeah?” You play. “And, what might those other names be?”

 He lists a few, all of them making your face flush and your body tingle, and before you know it, you’ve got your pants off and your fingers between your legs. You can hear Mike’s heavy breathing on the other end, the wet sound of his hand stroking his lubricated cock, and when you reach your climax, you moan out your usual, “Oh fuck, oh fuck, Miche.” 

 He tumbles down right behind you, panting and telling you in a voice of disbelief, “Jesus, it just keeps coming.” It makes the pulses of your orgasm even stronger, remembrance of all the times he’s painted you in white, and God, you are so ready for him to get back to the school.

 Then, there’s the voice in the back of your head that makes you think maybe it’s better that he’s gone for now, that he might not be too pleased that you’re spending time with another guy. But, it’s not like things with Zeke are going anywhere. You wouldn’t even call him a friend. You text on and off, have brunch or lunch or coffee depending on the time of day. 

 And, yeah, he calls you pet names, tells you that you look nice even when you’re just in leggings and a t-shirt, talks about his family and…

 Okay, it could potentially lead to something more, but it’s only been a week, and considering his golden boy status, he could have anyone he wants, so why would he even be interested in you in any way, shape, or form?

 Naturally, your thoughts circle back to Mike and the way he could have any girl on his arm, but he still chooses to spend time with you. To fuck you. To nearly confess his feelings to you. You have to wonder if you’re emitting some kind of scent or beacon, if there’s a sign hanging above your head with an arrow pointing down. Sports gods, come get a piece. 

 If only you’d never gone to that party. If you had just kept your head down like you had freshman year. Your life would be so much easier now.

 But now you’re in Zeke’s apartment listening to him rant about some philosopher you’ve never even heard of. He’s gesturing with his hands, flipping curling, blond bangs from his face, and whenever he pauses to think, he scratches his beard. He’s very fond of the white t-shirts and jeans get-up, sometimes switches it up and wears a button down under a sweater vest. Both looks are becoming of him no matter how much you try to deny it, but when he drops down onto the couch next to you and peers into your god damn soul with those piercing, blue eyes, you have to choke back a dreamy sigh.

 What is happening to you?

 “So, what do you think about it?” He asks, looking hopeful that you might have some insight on this matter.

 But, you simply laugh and shake your head. “Zeke,” you start. “I’m gonna be real honest with you here. I didn’t understand a fucking thing you just said.”

 You assume he’ll be disappointed, maybe tire of you since you can’t be as intellectually stimulating as he’d like you to, but Zeke exhales in a lighthearted sort of way, shows one of those amused smiles, and tells you, “You’re cute.”

 Anyone else and you would have snapped back, something along the lines of, don’t fucking patronize me, but with Zeke, all you can do is stare at him and let your lips part, silently asking for something you won’t speak out loud.

 His gaze moves to your mouth for a split second. That soft smile turns into one of his famous smirks. Then, he’s back on his feet and asking, “You wanna go to dinner?”

 You are more than relieved at the shift in atmosphere, but your heart is still beating too hard as you follow him downstairs and to his car. 

* Summer is passing quickly. Too quickly. The eleven week classes are kicking your ass, or are close to kicking your ass. Lucky for you, you have your own private tutor just a call or text away. Mike helps you, and you laugh and goof around, shoot off innuendo after innuendo, but the phone sex slows to a halt eventually. You tell him that you’re tired, and you are. It isn’t a lie. But, it also isn’t the full truth.

 Between classes when you could be resting, you’re eating out with Zeke. Or, watching him and the rest of the baseball team practice for the upcoming season. Or, sitting in his apartment, watching movies and chatting about all manner of things. Nothing important, of course—there’s no diving deep into your life story like you had done with Mike over Spring Break, but Zeke still learns the little things about you. Why you’re majoring in geosciences and how you became good friends with some of the Pike guys. You don’t give him the full details on that one—that you got blackout drunk and fucked Mike and just couldn’t stop. You don’t think Zeke would be interested in hearing about it anyway.

 You learn a bit about his dad and stepmom, the latter of whom he isn’t very fond of. He also has a little brother who’ll be attending the college starting this fall, and he’s interested in the Greek life. Naturally, you build PKA up. Even if there are some… Problematic people in the house, there are also a lot of really good guys. 

 “I’ll make sure to pass it along to him,” Zeke tells you one evening as you’re both sprawled on the couch, backs against the armrests as you face each other. It’s how he seems to prefer to sit when the TV isn’t on. When you asked him why, he had told you, “Just like looking at you,” and you didn’t know how to respond. You still don’t know how to respond.

 “Eren thinkin’ about joining any sports?” You ask now. “Does baseball run in the family or anything?”

 Zeke snorts. “Kid couldn’t hit a baseball even if it was on one of the t-ball stands.”

 “I’ll take that as a ‘no’, then.”

 “I would say he’s more academically inclined, but,” Zeke sighs. “That would be a lie.”

 You can never tell if he actually likes his brother. Most of the time he complains about him, but every once in a while he’ll bring up something cute Eren did as a little boy, and you see a fond glimmer in his light eyes. 

 “Anyway,” Zeke waves off the subject and transitions to a new one—one that makes your stomach drop. “Are you gonna tell Zacharias about us?”

 You choke on your own spit, leaning forward to cough a couple times, then challenge him with a nervous laugh, “I wasn’t aware there was anything to tell him.”

 Zeke tilts his head, mouth pulling up as he raises his eyebrows. “Come on,” he chuckles.

 “Come on, what?” You frown. If you were with Mike, you both would have died at that. Come on my face, you can hear him say, and you have to fight a smile because there’s absolutely no way you could explain that to the man in front of you.

 “You don’t have to play coy, sweetheart. We both know there’s something going on between us.” He says it with such confidence that even if he wasn’t right you wouldn’t be able to argue with him. The assumption should annoy you, should make you scoff and leave, but instead you sit there staring, caught up in his gaze and cocky grin.

 “I—”

 “It’s okay, you know. Not like you’re alone in this.”

 Those questions swim through your mind again, all the insecurities that you’ve been sorting through with Mike, but now that voice is louder because that sense of trust hasn’t formed yet. You’ve only connected with Zeke over meals and movies. It sounds domestic, but despite your apparently obvious attraction to him, you still don’t feel like you really know him. 

 But, he draws you in, like a moth to a flame. You can’t help it. There’s just something about him that makes you want him to like you, like you want to impress him, like you want to be good for him. You’ve been trying to ignore those thoughts, but they’re much harder to fight now that you’re sitting in front of him, taking in his wavy hair and pale blue eyes, that ever present smirk on his face, the curve of his neck that disappears into his shirt.

 He could just want sex. He could just want a fling. Wait for everyone to get back on campus and drop you for another girl. You tell yourself you wouldn’t care; you’re good at keeping things casual.

 Wouldn’t it be fun to be his arm candy for a while, though? Let people look at you and whisper louder than they did when they’d see you and Mike together? You don’t care about status, about being in the spotlight. It’s more for the experience, dating someone who could teach you things.

 Mike teaches you things, that voice pops up again. He’s been helping you with your work for almost a year now. You can’t just overlook that. 

 “What, are you weighing the pros and cons over there or something?”

 You snort. “Maybe. We still don’t really know each other all that well, Zeke.”

 “Might I remind you that we’ve been hanging out all summer? Did you honestly think it wouldn’t lead to anything more?”

 “Honestly,” you mimic, “I never thought you’d be interested.”

 “Why wouldn’t I be?” His brow furrows like he’s genuinely confused. “You’re smart. You’re funny. You’re cute.” 

 God, you can’t even count how many times he’s called you ‘cute’, how many times it’s made you blush over the last several weeks, just like it does now.

 Then, he pushes, “Do you not find me at—”

 “Of course I do,” you cut him off. “I don’t know who doesn’t, which is exactly why I don’t know where this is coming from.”

 Zeke sighs like he’s annoyed, then turns the hand on his thigh palm up and beckons you with two fingers. “Come here.”

 “What?”

 “Come here.”

 Your blood pressure spikes, breaths coming in little puffs that have no way of getting to your brain. It’s probably why you obey, rolling to your knees and clumsily crawling over to him. You stop short, right between his bent knees, but Zeke sits up, straightens his legs, and pulls you into his lap.

 More of that precious air leaves your lungs as you exhale too sharply, staring at him with huge eyes. You don’t know what’s happening, can’t believe it’s happening. It doesn’t feel real even as you rest your hands on his shoulders, even when he holds your hips and pulls you so that your full weight is on him, but fuck, you can’t say anything. You can’t make a sound. All you can do is wait for him to make his next move.

 “Why do you look scared?” His voice is just above a whisper, but at this proximity you can hear him without a problem. 

 “I don’t have a lot of experience sitting in men’s laps,” you manage, trying to keep your usual careless tone, but you doubt it works.

 “For some reason I don’t believe that.”

 You rear back, actually offended. “Excuse m—”

 That ire, however, melts away as quickly as it arose. Zeke slides fingers up your waist, all the way to the back of your neck to bring your face to his—your lips to his. 

 He feels different, not at all what you’re used to. His kiss is more demanding, hungry, and God, you still can’t breathe, can’t think straight because his tongue is moving past your lips, and you’re letting it, letting him taste you as your fingertips dig into the flesh of his shoulders. You lift yourself from him just a little only for Zeke to pull you back down with the hand still gripping your hip. He makes sure you feel him when he grinds up into you, the zipper of his jeans rubbing you through your little shorts so that you gasp into his mouth. 

 You both stay like that for what feels like a fucking eternity, biting and sucking on lips, stroking over each others’ tongues until you absolutely have to break apart. You’re panting now, body still tense on top of his, and Zeke stares at you with half-lidded eyes and shows the ghost of a smile.

 “Oh, I’m gonna have so much fun with you.”

 The statement sets you on fire, so much so that all you can do is whimper quietly and lean in for more. 

  And, as you get lost in Zeke Jaeger, you decide for yourself.

I need to tell Mike

[ next ]

[httphonsool]

the great spymaster

3. promises

synopsis; a series of drabbles in which you manage to conquer the great, brooding spymaster’s heart- this time you’re making promises

warnings; i don’t think there are any in this one, talking about hatred, insecurities?

tag list; @grandpascurtains @samaras-weavings

notes; i’m sorry it took me so long to write this, school’s started for me again in real life so i’m lacking time and things, but here’s part three, and please I just think Azriel would look pretty in a dress. And fight me- he would definitely reluctantly let his s/o paint his nails just to spend time with them. Petition to put Az in cosmetics lmao.

Azriel’s realised he highly dislikes your bubbly personality, after all, how can a person be so happy in such a corrupt world. It’s been a few days since you’ve arrived at the House of Wind, and he can’t help but notice how you were good to him, you respected his space, leave him be for most of the time, only ever asking him to take you to the library after you wake up late around ten o’clock (by his standards at the least), there’ll be times you’ll tease him, playful banter exchanged between the two of you, and he enjoys it, it’s pleasant having someone else with him, and that’s exactly what he hates. He hates how good you are, despises it, in fact. He especially despises when you play cupid, when you sit there in the library pretending to read some book full of smut and you listen into his conversation, with a cutesy schoolgirl smile planted on your face urging him to make a move on Gwyn.

And maybe he would make a move on Gwyn, but he can’t because you’re urging him on, and now he’s just focussed on disliking you.

Or maybe he just dislikes you because he felt the mating bond when you were in your cell. He felt it in the last conversation he had with you in the cell; when you’d stared into his eyes, it had snapped into place so quickly and he wanted to curse the Cauldron for giving him a human mate, and now he was going to despise you to keep you away, to keep you safe.

Yet he can’t help but be close to you, you’re lonely, and you accepted everything so fast even though he can quite literally feel your misery, but you hadn’t ever willingly talked to him unless there was something you needed so he didn’t offer either.

It doesn’t help that you constantly tease him about how pretty he would look in a dress, or with makeup on, or with his nails painted, “embrace your feminine inside, Mr. Spymaster sir, there’s no harm in doing so,” you had said to him in the library yesterday, he almost let out a smile; though he still can’t understand why you were so Cauldron-damned happy all the time, you made yourself smile even though you were in the worst position to do so.

And he watches you now, as you read in the library yet again, with a tinge of guilt, a tinge of sorrow gleaming in his eyes, because he actually felt sorry for you. Sorry that you had to end up here, sorry that he was your mate, sorry that he’ll never tell you you’re his mate even though he told Rhys he would.

Well, he never said when he’d tell you, it’d be a shame if he only thought about telling you after you die.

“You know,” you start, “if I were you, I would make a move on that priestess as fast as possible, wouldn’t want her to find someone else.” And there you go again, blabbering on about your cupid-esque escapade.

“Gwyn’s just a friend,” He repeats, the words tiring his mouth quickly after having repeated them so many times.

“All men say that,” You groan, “my friend’s ex-boyfriend said that and turns out he was having an affair behind her back; she’s a friend but you want more I can see it in your eyes.”

“Your friend needs better taste in men,” He jokes, and he wishes he hadn’t because then he had to see that stupid, warm smile on your face. How could you smile at him? Someone like him doesn’t deserve something like that from you of all people.

“She truly does. Shame I’m not there to tell her.” You sigh, furrowing your eyebrows and closing your book shut, “This book is boring, let’s go home.” Home. You had called it your home. It seemed like you’d accepted your fate, if only Azriel could accept his too.

-

Azriel yet again watched your tiny frame as you stood by the balcony staring wistfully out onto the city. You were so alone he couldn’t stand it anymore.

Your head quirks up (almost as if your brain received a notification he was watching you) and turned around, the brightest smile sitting upon your face. He almost fell to the ground for you.

“Hello, Mr. Shadowsinger sir,” God those nicknames.

“You can just call me Azriel, ___.” He replied, your name feeling holy on his tongue. It was the mating bond making him feel this way; he swears, and he can’t give in, he could never give in.

“How long have you been watching me?”

“Just a few minutes, you looked like you were in deep thought.”

“I was just thinking about how lonely it is up here.”

“I can always take you somewhere-”

“I’m too scared to ask,” You say quietly, curling into yourself.

He scared you? Of course he did, he scares everyone, and everyone dislikes him.

“Not that you’re scary, I love your shadows, I think they’re so playful, but I mean they never show up around me- that’s beside the point, I’m sorry, uh, what I meant was that, I’m scared that I might make you angry.”

Cute. No not cute.

“Why would I be angry?”

“You don’t seem to like me very much.”

“I don’t mind you.” Honest, he was being honest. Gods, he couldn’t figure out what to even do with himself.

“Really? I mean that’s great, It just didn’t seem all that way, you know? I’ll stop talking.”

“You talk quite a lot.” He points out.

“Yeah, I’m sorry, I don’t mean to, my friends always get annoyed by it, you know? That I talk too much, it’s only because I feel like someone might actually listen but really they always just tell me to shut up.” You were so bright.

And Azriel was such a dick, had he not just told you to shut up a few days back? Did that not hurt you?

“You can always talk to me.” He wants to make it clear, let you know that he’s listening even if he acts like he isn’t.

“Can I?” You joke, giggling. Azriel quickly realises he actually really likes your giggles.

“Yes.”

“Okay, okay, let’s make a promise then.” You say as a-matter-of-factly.

“A promise? Why not a bargain?”

“No, no bargains, promises sound nicer.” Promises it is then.

“Okay then.”

“Promise me you’ll always let me talk to you?” You ask, your eyebrows furrowing yet again.

“I promise.” You’re so…golden. That’s the only way he can describe you; a ruby in a pile of diamonds.

“And…I promise you I won’t ever bother you all that much.”

“But you never bother me all that much anyway.”

“Don’t I?” You smile mischievously, eyeing him up and down.

“Cauldron, what are you up to?”

“Deciding what kind of dress we should put you in; a ball gown just wouldn’t suffice.” You giggle. A ruby in a pile of diamonds, he had thought.

“Oh, I’m more of a summer dress kind of person.” He jokes.

“Really?” He wishes everyone could see the pure, innocent joy on your face.

“No.”

[etheriadearie]

“Promise”

Why can't you just… Promise ?

Today's goal is an in-depth look at one of the most beautiful and breathtaking episodes of She-ra: "Promise"

Storywise, it's incredibly important to the series, and focuses entirely on Catradora. It's the first time since Adora left Catra behind to seek out the sword that the girls really have an opportunity to talk, and things are not going well. Both of them are royally pissed off at the other, with good reason.

For Adora, we're gonna deflate that proud hair poof of hers a bit, as we'll take an honest look at her as a person at this point in her life. And Catra... she's really guarding her feelings closely, as she's already deeply angry with Adora. But we will use the combination of Catra's younger self in the memories they see, plus looking at other times in the series that relate to this episode, where she was less guarded, in order to understand her as a person at this time. Also: warning: tl;dr, best enjoyed while cozy with a drink..

To get started, we skip to when they end up stuck together…

After Adora takes drastic measures to ward off the security spiders by collapsing the tunnel, the girls are now stuck together, and so… they talk...

We immediately see how incredibly irritated they are with each other as Adora chides Catra for being in the Crystal Castle, since the monsters will continue to attack them as long as she's protecting Catra… only to have Catra retort that she didn't ask for protection. Some snippy bickering back and forth happens, then...

Adora asks: "Does Shadow Weaver know you're here?" Very deadpan assertion from Adora. She knows Catra must be disobeying orders, she just doesn't know why.

"I'd say Shadow Weaver has bigger problems right now". Catra is already starting her move against SW back at the Horde. With SW abusively blocking her every move within the Horde, and now that Catra knows that SW was going to mind wipe Adora, Catra has decided she must deal with her abuser.

Adora puts on her telltale sideways grin, and Catra chafes at Adora's flirtation, saying "I told you it's not because I like you” downplaying Adora’s suggestion that this was the reason she let her go. Catra freely admits here that she does like Adora, but it's not the real reason she did it. Still, Catra doesn't explain further, and we see later that Catra often lets Adora explain away her actions this way... but that Adora constantly misses the deeper truths.

"Where are your new best friends? I thought you did everything together". She's very snarky and dismissive of Adora and her flirting. She's mad about Adora leaving her for her new life.

"The ones you let SW imprison and curse?" Adora is angry at Catra for what she did, which was a sudden escalation of things by Catra.

"Yeah obviously, what other friends would I be talking about?" An obvious dig at Adora for leaving her, everything behind. She deadpans this, staring back plainly. Catra is obviously really angry at Adora... while Adora is legitimately mad at Catra for doing something so nasty to Bow and Glimmer...

::Let's take a moment to talk about Catra's feelings about Adora's new friends: Catra feels horribly betrayed by this. Adora completely tossed her aside, and replaced her with Bow and Glimmer. What comes to mind is at the end of Sea Gate, Catra is thrown in the water and then looks up at Adora, who is celebrating and cuddling with Bow and Glimmer. Catra is emotionally forlorn watching this, as Scorpia comes to drag her off to safety, Adora doesn't even look back towards her.

She's forgotten, Adora showed no love towards her at all in that scene (and then hardly any at Princess Prom, either). Adora ignored her plea for her to return, she didn't reach out to Catra at all. And now she watches her cuddle with her new friends: everything Catra thought she had with Adora meant nothing, and she's been replaced with these feel goodie goods who are fawning all over Adora.

Suffice to say, Catra couldn't do this, she's got way too many issues with emotional intimacy and touch aversion. So she watches Adora, seeing that what she offered her wasn't good enough, knowing because of it she's forgotten. Catra was trying really hard to be a close friend to Adora in spite of her issues, but as we will see, Adora wasn't trying to understand what was going on with Catra. And because of this, Catra was too afraid to express her affection openly, and yet here's Adora... accepting all of Bow and Glimmer’s love, for which Adora really did nothing to earn. Adora took Catra’s friendship for granted while ignoring her deeper needs, as will be explained, then completely abandons her, not even seeming to miss her. Catra is deeply hurt by the unfairness of this.

>Catra stares back at Adora, frustrated when she doesn't even acknowledge their lost friendship.

"Well, we don't need to go together. You do your weird little magic quest thing I'll find my own way out". Catra looks resentfully at the sword on Adora's back as she says this. Catra is laying down boundaries, except it's useless since they are trapped together. But, boundaries are important to Catra and as the episode progresses, Adora shows that she doesn't really understand Catra's.

>As they walk along, both girls' shadows loom equally tall. The symbolism is that in this story, both are equally important... it's also a shockingly beautiful sequence. (pic above)

After entering the room of infinite darkness, Catra tries to separate from Adora but the door is gone, they are stuck together. Weird things start happening. As the Fright Zone appears, both of them are confused. Adora decides to suspect Catra, after all, she attacked her friends. But as Adora grabs Catra, Catra is surprised and confused... Catra doesn't like being touched unexpectedly, Adora knows this but is ignoring that and attacking her. She gets treated as an enemy when she clearly hasn't done anything wrong, and it sets the tone for the two of them: Adora has constantly treated Catra as an enemy since the very moment she defected, not even trying to understand Catra's point of view. And so Catra increasingly emotionally distances herself from Adora. Catra angrily casts Adora's arm aside, not liking being vilified by her, and Adora doesn't understand why Catra is so upset. Catra slips away to explore, needing space from her.

The way Adora immediately suspects and then attacks Catra is symbolic to the whole episode: by defecting to the Rebellion, Adora chose to start treating Catra, and her entire unit, as enemies, backing it up with hostility. But Catra doesn't really agree that the horde is evil... in her experience, it's just how life is.

>The two girls, now separated, call out to each other. Adora hears Catra's call, then another: young Catra is behind her, looking lost and insecure. Catra joins Adora as their first memory has just begun…

~DISCLAIMER TIME~ A lot of information in She-ra is inferred by emotional context, so if this seems a bit head-canon-y, I assure you, I have data! Please ask questions and seek clarifications, I promise to answer back! ~EtheriaDearie

>A worried and hurt young Catra runs to young Adora's side. She is emotional and needs support. Adora checks her out then gets the real deal: Catra was in a fight with an adult. It hints that Catra always had to deal with people messing with her, even before SW began her abuse. This is a guess, but it's probable: this is likely a happy memory of the two of them right before the hurting began. Along with the "promise" memory and the moments immediately preceding their entering the Black Garnet chamber, these scenes set the baseline for what their friendship was like before Catra suffered SW’s abuse. Also, this memory is a happy one, and how Adora remembers their friendship: it was likely triggered by her memories. The next ones are not, as I believe they are triggered by Catra, who is trying to explain to Adora what was so painful about their childhood...

>Catra doesn't know what to expect when she shows Octavia to Adora. She probably expects Adora to try to apologize on her behalf, or to give her a hard time about what she did. Instead, Adora sticks with her friend and yells “Hey Octavia, you're a dumbface." This brings young Catra much joy, Adora is sticking with her, not passing judgement. The two young girls run together hand in hand, experiencing childhood bliss, but it doesn't last. The present versions of themselves return, holding hands...

They share a brief moment of connection before Catra pulls her hand away in anger. Adora is surprised at the strength of Catra’s reaction. They are not on intimate terms any more, in fact, I suspect they had been struggling for a while before Adora's defection. Adora doesn't want the moment to stop, but Catra does. It hints that the gulf between them is already wide.

"How can you deal with all this magic stuff?" Catra has a deep distrust of magic, as it was used in her abuse. She resents it, and throughout the series whenever anything magic happens that she doesn't see coming she gets creeped out.

"I'm only dealing with it because I need to figure out how to heal Glimmer after someone got her cursed." It's a valid criticism, but Catra deflects it.

"What do you want? An apology? You're not getting one." We don't get the full story on this moment until season 5 when a young Catra tells Adora she'll "never say sorry to anybody, ever." Adora doesn't like Catra just refusing to explain, and as Catra pushes her away, Catra is full of reproach at Adora's judgement.

::As an abused child, Catra was continuously vilified and abused by everyone but Adora. And when Adora would suggest she apologize throughout their lives, she can't understand why Catra won't. It comes down to literally everyone in the world judging Catra and being cruel. Not once did any of them apologize to her, even though she didn't do anything to deserve the abuse. Except Adora... but that has issues, too. In fact, SW literally tells her "I won't apologize" regarding her abuse of Catra. Can you imagine the hurt at that?

[pic caption: Catra refuses to apologize, Catra often shows her deeper emotions while blinking, in this case: the incredible pain she experienced from SW’s abuse.]

So no, Catra won't apologize, she had a thing she was trying to do by kidnapping Bow and Glimmer and taking her sword, and it ended badly. But she felt she had a good reason to do it: she wanted to force Adora to see her, to make her acknowledge how big of a part of Adora’s life Catra used to be. And it's not like anyone has been helping Catra, she's had to make every single decision on her own her entire life and live with the consequences.

Also, mistakes for Catra have an entirely different meaning than they do for Adora. Whenever Adora made a mistake, she was given an opportunity to fix it. This is a theme of their relationship: Adora expects Catra to let her fix her mistakes. But for Catra, she learned that any mistake she made was dangerous, as when she did make a mistake, SW would torture her for it. And if other people saw it too, they'd use it to perpetuate the notion that she's some kind of no good fuck up. So Catra is extremely careful to not make mistakes, and if she does, she tries to cover it up, distance herself from it. (note: this isn't the same as Catra's intentional rebellions against this system where she was unfairly targeted for abuse-). This is why Catra simply cannot forgive Adora easily for breaking her promise: in Catra's world, she had to be perfect, or she could have been dead by SW's hand. She wasn't allowed to make mistakes like Adora is, she is what is clinically known as 'hyper vigilant' and always preparing for the worst. And so she applies this standard to be perfect all the time to Adora, and therefore she won't give Adora the same license to make mistakes with their friendship. Catra thinks Adora should know better, and see the consequences of her actions.

>Adora lets it go: when Catra seems to shut down, Adora does her best to try to accept her. Adora tries a different track. She asks Catra why she let her and Glimmer go when SW had them imprisoned, when it could have resulted in Catra getting in trouble. Catra walks ahead, trying to distance herself from having to answer. But the magic of the Crystal Castle intervenes: as Adora slips and begins to fall, Catra saves her. It's a symbolic moment: Catra has always tried to protect Adora, to save her from pain. It's why she changed course to give the sword back to her, partly.

"Did you really think I'd just let SW erase your memory like that?"

"I don't know. Probably." Adora shows such little understanding of their friendship. It shows Adora really is thinking of Catra as an enemy, not as the complicated person stuck between protecting her friend, and the cruel necessities of her life.

Catra looks at Adora with disappointment. "Yeah, well, you never did have too much faith in me." Adora tries to understand Catra's emotions, fails.

"Huh, can you blame me?" Ouch. Adora smiles at Catra, trying to show love for her roguish quirks. But it just shows how little Adora understands: she is repeating a negative stereotype of Catra that everyone in their old life believes and perpetuates. And Adora should know better, instead of just assuming the worst about her. That persona is one which Catra uses to protect herself, partly from her own emotional feelings, but also as a necessity to protect herself from SW. She had to act like she doesn't care, doesn't try, so SW wouldn't see her power.

"Psh, not really." As Catra turns away, again she deadpans this but you can see pain and disappointment leaking past her indifference.

As she walks away she trails her tail across Adora's hand, flirting and drawing Adora's attention to her butt. It's a cute little moment of telling a truth to counter the lie: 'Adora, you should know me better, and also, I like you.' Still, it's only a half truth: Catra couldn't let SW win because SW is Catra's true enemy. But, Adora takes the flirtatious hint, as always. She accepts it and doesn't dig deeper.

Catra asks Adora about their childhood, trying to understand how Adora could just throw it all away. Adora gives a very direct and impassioned speech, she looks Catra in the eyes, trying to convince her and make her understand why leaving was the right thing to do. Catra hides her emotions, weighing Adora's answer. She doesn't agree with her sentiment, in Catra's experience good and evil are relative and exist as such everywhere. Also, she's right: we meet many people in the Horde who aren't evil. And Adora's finding the sword is one giant sinister manipulation by Light Hope. Moral grayness is a constant theme in this show. Still, this isn't really why Catra chooses to stay with the Horde.

Adora sees her explanation failing to convince Catra, so she tries reminding Catra of their deeper friendship, telling her she misses her too. Catra is temporarily taken aback at being called out before remembering to deny it. She tells Adora to get over herself, and Adora tells her she won't stop until Catra says she likes her. They flirtatiously rough house, and Catra smiles during it: yeah, she does. But she denies it anyways.

::Adora often tries to be respectful of Catra's personal space but is making an exception here: she's telling her that she finds her desirable, and if Catra wanted it, they could be together. Adora can't understand why Catra feels the need to resist this, but she knows doing it helps her friend feel wanted. Still, this shows how casually Adora views their attraction.

Yes, they should be together. And actually, they had an unspoken agreement that they would be. But Catra's not going to open herself up to that just to serve her desire. She wants more from Adora, for Adora to show her that she really does see her, and cares about her. If she did, maybe Catra could open up about some of her pain. Being intimate without doing that would be impossible, and so far Catra's life still isn't safe enough to risk her feelings. Adora's promotion could have meant the beginning of something new between them, where they worked together to build a more secure future together where Catra didn't have to be fearful all the time. But instead, Adora left her.

So begins the second memory. The two girls, now teenagers, compete against each other in sparring. It's clear they are flirting, and neither is fighting all out. When Catra taunts Adora by putting her finger to her forehead, she shows how much better she is at fighting. She full heartedly laughs, Adora enjoys this and then throws a purposefully weak strike to restart the fight. When Adora seemingly turns the tables through brute force, Catra plays hurt to exploit Adora's naiveness. As Adora tries to show concern, Catra turns the tables back. She wants to teach Adora a lesson: that not everyone will play fair, as Catra knows all too well from SW's abuse. But Lonnie interrupts her. Catra doesn't appreciate this and makes quick work of Lonnie, showing just how good she is. Adora attacks, getting the predetermined win. Catra doesn't enjoy the beat down but accepts Adora's help up. She heads to Lonnie as Adora receives compliments from their commander.

As Catra confronts Lonnie, she tells Catra "you were playing dirty, I was just leveling the field". Catra will hear these words again when she leaves Adora behind in frustration near the end of the episode. They are significant: these are stereotypical views forced on Catra, and those views ignore that Catra was just doing something she felt was important: teaching Adora about the harsh realities that exist in the world. Real enemies don't play by the rules, and will be unpredictable.

As Catra’s anger rises at this, Adora puts her hand on Catra's shoulder to calm her down, then compliments Catra on her fighting skills. Catra ever so casually tosses the comforting hand aside. She's saying 'I can handle my emotions without your help, but thanks for asking.' As she tells Adora she let her win, Adora tries to tell if Catra really is ok.

Thus starts one of cutest exchanges between the two of them: as Catra tries to explain why she lets Adora win, Adora puts on her sideways 'you like me' grin while she playfully denies that Catra let her win. Catra gives a very animated and obviously made up explanation about not wanting to have people expect things from her. Adora grins along, and halfway through her lie Catra leans in, staring at Adora's lips before looking up into her eyes. Once again, Catra is undoing a lie by telling a truth: she let her win because she likes (loves) her. But it's only a half truth, once again...

Adora accepts the explanation, keeping her sideways grin: 'it's so cute how you like me'. Catra's explanation done, Adora moves on, wanting to catch up with their unit. Catra lets her do so while excusing herself. As Adora leaves, a huge amount of meaningful information passes across Catra's face…

First, Catra feels bad about having to lie to Adora, and it shows. Then, as Adora leaves to socialize, disappointment and rejection shows: Catra had hoped Adora might look deeper, and try to see the deeper truth. As Adora turns away and leaves we see a look of total love and adoration on Catra's face. She really, really loves Adora. She's the light of her life, a real idiot no doubt but Catra will always love her for exactly who she is.

The girls remain their younger selves as the rest of the memory plays out, Adora staying to accept praise while Catra separates to deal with her internal feelings which Adora always fails to see: the hurt and aloneness she feels.

>A frustrated young Catra cries, expressing her repressed emotions. It would be easiest to assume she cries because she's sad about losing, but we have to look ahead to the next memory to find the real truth.

Catra is sad because she never had a choice. SW took that choice from her, and while Catra is happy to let Adora win because of the love she feels for her, it hurts that she never really got to decide. And Adora doesn't see that, doesn't see the pain Catra is bearing, hiding. And so she cries for that, too. The one person who should love her doesn't really see her. As she looks up in the mirror to see herself, since no one else in her life seems to see her pain, she sees her present tearful self looking back. The pain of the past is real in the present, and while she's older now and won't let herself give in to tears, she feels the pain as she did back then. (pic 1, below) She sees the tears and it snaps her back to her present self, totally unnerved by the simulation as the security detects her and attacks. A fearful Catra screams, wanting help, wanting Adora.

>Adora snaps back to herself, having been participating in the replay of the memory post Catra excusing herself. She tries to run to help Catra, full of worry. She sees a terrified Catra trapped by the spider. As the spider begins to drag her away the two girls lock arms, trying to free Catra. But it's too strong, and as we see their grip start to slip, Catra looks to Adora wanting, pleading for help. As Catra is pulled away, Adora feels helpless, knowing she couldn't help her friend. She thumps her head in frustration that she wasn't there for Catra.

The scene speaks to an obvious truth: Adora has never quite been there enough for Catra. She's always less present, less aware of Catra's reality than she could have been. But since Catra was experiencing a painful memory when this happened, her reaction shows her vulnerable emotional state, and so she called out for help: Catra just wants to feel safe, for Adora to be there to help her. But she wasn't.

>As Catra is dragged away, she feels helpless, and calls out mournfully for Adora. But she's long gone; Catra is alone and scared, as usual. She screams out her frustration, the realization that she’s never gotten the help she needed, she always ends up alone. She cries tears for the suffering and anguish she feels from that. (pic 2, below) It’s a moment that shows us the real inner Catra: She feels deeply, whether it be her desire to be seen, loved by Adora, or the fear she feels in this moment and others. She tries her best to act confident in herself, but it's a lie: she needs support, yet is left behind by everyone, including Adora. She was willing to bear her pain for Adora's love, but she has become increasingly aware of how tenuous that really was growing up.

>Catra digs deep, like she's always done. She will handle this, won't take the abuse lying down. She shifts her mentality to being the survivor, the person who has survived years of abuse. She frees herself and gets to her feet, accessing her foe, determined to defeat it. She attacks, using her anger to deal damaging blows, seeking to destroy her enemy, to make sure she survives. She stands back, confident she's won, proud of herself for it. She doesn't quit, she always perseveres against those who want to destroy her. (pic 3)

Adora shows up, finishing the monster. Catra doesn't drop her mentality, this person who has lived a separate life from Adora and survived on her own, doing the hard things like winning fights and resisting Shadow Weaver's abuse.

Adora walks forward, seeing Catra's anger, determination. She looks blankly, trying not to upset Catra. She's trying to get a read on Catra but not having any luck, so she's being cautious. She asks if Catra is ok, casually pulling webbing off Catra's shoulder, trying to exist in her physical space without upsetting Catra further. "I had it" says Catra, not dropping her fighter stance, mentality at all. Catra is very much feeling the aloneness of her life from everyone, including Adora.

Adora tries to casually put aside Catra's assertion that she had it, she smiles diplomatically. She tries again to touch Catra, to break down her animosity and get her to calm down. It doesn't work. "We need to make sure we stick together from now on." As Adora touches Catra, she tenses, uncomfortable. Catra has strong touch aversion, and Adora knows this but she also knows doing it sometimes helps Catra shift her mentality, so she's trying to get Catra to connect emotionally, to get her to accept care.

"Will you stop telling me what to do?" An exasperated Catra says. We see a look of total dismay cross Adora's face. She's not understanding why Catra has so much animosity in this moment. (pic below)

As Adora looks at Catra, she hunches her body, looking misunderstood and isolated. Adora has consistently failed to see Catra's emotional states and so Catra is feeling more and more apart; that the mentality of the survivor she's feeling now is the right one. Adora didn't really help her at all growing up, and she doesn't see her for who she really is, either. Adora always took the easy explanation, like saying that Catra did things for her because she liked her. Never looking deeper, trying to see her struggle. And so Catra doesn't drop her combative pose, she stays in it because she feels in control, less vulnerable.

As for the words "stop telling me what to do", that's an essay in itself but consider: just now Adora became frustrated when she lost Catra, and now tells her they need to stay together. But they didn't, they never did, and even when they are together Adora is no real help to Catra. So she reacts in anger to Adora trying to direct her. After all, in the next scene we will see that Adora leads Catra into danger, and then doesn't really help her as she gets abused. Adora is no great leader, not according to Catra's experience.

::Adora is having a total loss, here, as she tries to understand Catra, why she's angry at her: It's because she has never really known this 'survivor' side of Catra. Adora wants to comfort her and calm her down, but Catra isn't having it. I think this is when we first see Adora begin to realize that there is something is very wrong with her friend that she has completely failed to see, and she's deeply worried by it. (pic 2)

[pic cation: Adora can't read Catra's emotions, Adora realizes Catra is deeply angry. Outside SW’s chamber, Adora wants to take Catra’s hand.]

Adora loves Catra, but can't seem to get through to her: Catra is holding herself apart from Adora. Again, Catra pushes Adora's hand aside, frustrated. She expresses her exasperation at the situation, saying she's sick of what's going on. Adora follows along, confused. As Catra seemingly purposefully leaves her behind, Adora demands to know what Catra's problem is, saying that she was trying to save her. Catra looks down at her confrontationally, frustrated with Adora's lack of vision. "For the last time, I don't need you to save me. I've been doing just fine on my own. No thanks to you." Uh oh.

The words "no thanks to you" are especially cutting. Adora has totally failed to see the struggles Catra had all her life, she didn't understand the hurt and abuse Catra was fighting against. And so Catra did it all on her own, protecting herself and trying to remain strong. Her love of Adora might have helped her have hope, but fundamentally Catra overcame the abuse by not giving up on herself, believing she had worth, and not letting others tear her down.

Adora runs to Catra's side, taking her arm in one hand. Feeling her friend becoming increasingly distant from her, Adora tries authentically telling Catra her feelings, hoping to make her friend see her desire to help and understand her. Adora explains that she's sorry for leaving and that she did it because she couldn't stand the war the Horde has pursued. Her next words are telling: "but I never wanted to leave you". 'Want' is an important word in this series, and it comes up again in season 5 when Catra asks Adora "what do you want, Adora?”. By choosing to leave the Horde, Catra feels that Adora wanted that more than she wanted what they had together. Also, promises are not something you're supposed to break over a 'want'. And Adora so casually breaking their promises makes Catra think she doesn't matter to Adora. It's not the truth, but this belief still determines her reaction in this moment. Even though Adora dearly loves Catra, including at this point in the story, she hasn't shown it in a way that Catra can see as meaningful. As Adora finishes saying this, Catra looks back, feeling alone and unwanted, seemingly thinking 'but you did leave me, Adora.'

Adora tries to appeal to Catra to join the rebellion with her. Then she says "I know you're not a bad person, Catra. You don't belong with the Horde." Catra must be thinking 'Ok so at what point did you become the authority on whether someone is good or bad, Adora?' Adora has shown no interest in understanding Catra's position, she treated her as an enemy without fail since she left her, literally in every single case including at Princess Prom when Catra was trying so hard to romance her. And Catra doesn't accept Adora's naive black and white view of the world. Think about it: when Adora defects she begins treating all Horde with hostility, including her dearest friend, she judges them all and doesn’t even try to see them as the complicated people that they are. So when she suggests Catra doesn't belong with the Horde, Catra looks back at her, feeling totally isolated from Adora. Even though Adora's plea is earnest, Catra declines it.

>As the next memory begins, we see Adora now has both hands on Catra's arm, she's desperately trying to hold on to her bond with Catra and show her desire to fix things between them. Catra doesn't drop her wary demeanor at all, and Adora looks lost and anxious over this as a young Catra runs by.

The memory starts out full of childhood innocence as the two of them play together. When the girls see that the Black Garnet chamber is open, young Adora remarks "we're definitely not allowed in there." Young Catra looks at Adora, seemingly asking if she wants to go in, trusting her. Young Adora runs off, and Catra follows her in. Yes, Catra participates in the decision, but she's not the one who runs towards the chamber, and that's important to what happens next.

A worried (adult) Adora looks to her friend who seems so distant, stoic. Anxiously, Adora tells Catra "You don't have to go in there." Adora knows what happens next is very bad, that this is a hurtful memory for Catra. As an unwavering Catra begins to walk towards the chamber, Adora looks down at Catra's hand. [pic above] She wants desperately to reach out and take it, to hold Catra back from this terrible moment, to tell her she's sorry for messing up. Adora knows now that she screwed up, that she's let Catra down, somehow more than she ever realized. She doesn't know what to do about it… she follows Catra inside.

The young girls explore, Catra touches the black garnet and gets shocked. Adora has second thoughts, she realizes they're trespassing.. but of course, SW returns, so they try to hide. As SW takes off the mask, Adora cries out, taken aback... young Catra looks at her in dismay. She's about to pay for Adora's mistake with a lifetime of suffering. Offended, SW tells them to "Get out!" but rethinks. She puts the mask back on, and decides to use this moment to instead abuse the girls and use the crime of their trespass against them. As SW tells Catra to stay, Adora turns around, seeing that Catra is caught, and she's scared for her friend. She really did make a poor decision, and as a highly empathetic person, what happens to Catra scars Adora, too.

Held powerless by magic, Catra tries to explain that they were just playing. SW's words to her set the stage for a lifetime of physical and psychological abuse: SW leans over her menacingly, telling her "Insolent child, I've come to expect such disgraceful behavior from you, but I will not allow you to drag Adora down as well." Again, it's not Catra who decided to go in, so it's really not her fault. SW disparages her and heaps blame upon her for Adora's bad choice, ignoring the truth.

Adora weakly tries to protect Catra, saying "SW, it wasn't her fault. It was my idea too." It's an understandable response, as they're just little kids. Still, Adora could have taken the blame for their trespass, since she led Catra inside. But it's about to get a lot more hurtful for Catra...

SW's voice echoes through Catra's head as she trembles in terror: "You have never been anything more than a nuisance to me. I've kept you around this long because Adora was fond of you but if you ever do anything to jeopardize her future, I will dispose of you myself. Do you understand ?" Catra trembles in fear, her eyes unfocused, the room empty but for SW menacing her. She's in a dissociative state, terrified and helpless. I think some people probably feel like this must have been a idle threat, but it isn't: SW abuses Catra many times after this for her mistakes. And the depiction of the dissociative state helps us understand just how damaging it was. While Adora seemingly goes on to not realize the importance of this memory, for Catra it is formative to her entire life.

Again, Adora tries weakly to stop what's happening, putting herself between them. She tells SW "please, stop" then looks over at Catra, full of concern. Running over to SW, she tells her "she didn't mean to". This is so hurtful, as young Catra is very smart. Catra knows Adora has blown it again, after all, what is it that she "didn't mean to" do when it was Adora's idea to trespass? Adora isn't getting the magnitude of the situation, and Catra is very much left to fend for herself.

SW then does a very insidious thing to Adora, a very directed abuse that's meant to work against her personality and empathetic reactions to others pain. She tells her "Adora, you must do a better job of keeping her under control. Do not let something like this happen again..." SW follows this up with years of manipulation to make Adora even more susceptible to abuse. But in this moment, SW again heaps the blame for Adora's mistake onto Catra, who did nothing wrong. For Catra, she comes to believe that what she did doesn't even matter, nobody cares what the truth was. Even Adora. But for Adora, the hurt goes deep as well. She made a bad decision, her friend gets hurt for it, and she never comes clean... instead, she's told she has to do a better job of controlling her friend, and that she has to be perfect so that it doesn't happen again. It's a deep and hurtful moment for Adora, just like it is for Catra. But the hurt is much less direct, and more sneaky. Nonetheless, Adora struggles with this moment, this abuse of her, in the most intimate and painful ways all throughout the series.

Young Catra watches on as SW completes her manipulation of Adora. For Catra, she's left with the feeling that nothing she does matters, she was blamed for something she didn't even do. And Adora seemingly took the easy out, spreading the blame. But she doesn't realize this moment is so insidious for Adora, that it attacks and manipulates her at her emotional need to help others. From this moment on, Adora is afflicted with a desperate fear that she can't protect others, and must lead perfectly so they don't get hurt. This internal conflict erodes Adora's self worth, and causes her great emotional pain throughout the series. Catra, instead, believes she is being told she has no worth, and isn't even allowed to make her own decisions. It's hurtful, and it's part of why she tensed so badly at Adora for trying to tell her what to do earlier. We see this realization cross young Catra's face: she feels forgotten in this moment.

We see the young girls walking away from SW's chamber, Adora with her hand around Catra's shoulder. This comfort is not enough... Catra really needed Adora to stand up for her there, to come clean, and she didn't. Trying to comfort her now seems hollow. As they flash to their present selves, Catra knocks Adora's arm aside in frustration, accusing her of needing to play the hero.

Adora responds, saying she was only trying to protect her. Catra's next words tell the real truth of their childhood: "You never protected me! Not in any way that would put you on SW's bad side!" Adora at first chafes at this statement, feeling like she did try to protect her, then crosses over to confusion at the strength of Catra's assertion. Catra is telling Adora she was blind to her pain. She wasn't there for her, and this is very much at the core of Catra's disappointment with Adora: the fact that she never stayed, never tried to understand. Adora let SW control her, make her ambitious, and so Catra was put to the side of that, and over time Adora grew apart from her. Catra’s exact words here are important: she says that Adora ‘plays’ at being the hero, yet always seemingly protected her status as the favorite, never standing up to SW and risking harm onto herself in order to save Catra from pain.

And so, the fact that out of seemingly out of nowhere, Adora decides to risk everything and defect in order to fight for people she doesn't even know, insults Catra. Adora abandons and consequently fights against her own people, leaving Catra behind, unilaterally treating her as an enemy. Never, in their whole lives, did Adora ever fight for Catra, only offering affection afterwards to make up for the cruelties that happened to Catra. So no, Catra doesn't want Adora to save her, or her sympathy, when she seemingly cared so little about her pain. Adora was no hero to her.

Now an obvious question might be: if the manipulation is that Adora is supposed to protect and control Catra, then shouldn't she have had to see SW abuse Catra for it to work? The first part of the answer is that it was never really about that, once the idea was put in Adora’s head, SW used it to manipulate her further into a mentality where Adora would accept praise, promotion on her path to becoming a force captain.

The other is that when someone is being hurt like Catra was in that moment... if the one person in the world who is supposed to get it doesn't get it... then it becomes very hard to ever bring it up to them again. It's a specific type of hurt and abandonment: for Catra, she goes on to believe that this is her burden, that somehow she alone is supposed to learn these hard lessons. And so she doesn't tell Adora about the abuse. Also, keep in mind that they are small children, and Catra doesn't want Adora to hurt like she does... so she's actually protecting her, in her mind. But the fact that time goes by and Adora never seemed to care, to stop and see Catra's pain, was very hurtful to her. And Catra’s feelings of betrayal at Adora’s not seeing the hurt are justified: in episode 1, we see Adora watch SW menace Catra, then happily run off to accept her promotion, only remembering to check on Catra as an afterthought. Catra needed Adora's support, and never really got it.

[pic caption: (left to right) Adora’s apparent willful ignorance of the abuse.]

So Catra believes she learns these hard lessons so Adora won't have to, but is left alone in her pain. This also means that SW specifically abused Catra at times and in places so Adora wouldn't be aware, which again, tells us it was never really about making Adora responsible for Catra's decisions. No, the reasons were much darker, and Catra bore it all alone.

The girls flash to their younger selves, and Catra accuses Adora: "Admit it, you love being her favorite." Catra is telling Adora that she was disappointed and hurt that Adora kept accepting praise and privilege from SW, after that moment when she so clearly should have seen how SW abused her, and the maliciousness of the death threat. In Catra’s mind, Adora could have rejected SW. As painful as it is for a small child to be without any parents, it would have been the right thing to do, for Catra. SW was no good to Catra, and they could have shared the pain of being orphans who only had each other, but instead Catra ended up bearing all of the abuse while Adora was given privilege.

Adora denies this assertion, and yet she did accept the privilege SW offered her. Catra's next words show how ignorant Adora was to the realities of their lives as they flash back to their present selves: "Oh yeah? When you left, who do you think took the fall for you? Who was protecting me then ?" Catra bore all the abuse and punishment for Adora's leaving, and Adora wasn't there to see it. Catra did this bravely for Adora, in fact, up until before Princesse Prom, Catra did everything she could to cover for Adora, just like she asked, protecting her, hoping she'd come back to her. But Adora shows no understanding at all for what Catra went through, she didn't even think about what must have been happening to her. Adora has never taken the time to think about how her actions affect Catra's life.

Adora counters, suggesting that Catra could leave the Horde, and therefore get away from SW's abuse. Catra just glares back at her, disappointed. Catra knows running from the abuse won't solve anything.

::What this comes down to is a totally different understanding of the world. For Adora, she thinks she became a hero for leaving the Horde, and becoming She-ra. She doesn't realize she was lucky to fall into the situation she did, with Bow and Glimmer helping her gain acceptance and protecting her. She's totally unaware that the reality that her becoming She-ra is a manipulation born out of evil intent. For Catra, she's always known that the world is harsh, and that bad people exist who will try to destroy you. She's not afraid to fight, she's had no choice learning these harsh truths. It's a jaded view that negatively affects her perceptions of people, but it prepares her for the worst, and so she relies on it. So when Adora suggests she run from it, she rejects her as naive. They flash back to their younger selves after Adora suggests Catra can leave like she did, and Catra accusingly points out that she doesn't need to follow Adora around. That they're children is relevant to the previous memory where Adora led Catra into danger, and then didn't protect her. Catra isn't interested in following Adora blindly after she's put her in danger so badly in the past.

Flashing back present selves, Catra tells Adora she doesn't want to leave. As she says this her face conveys her anger at the world, her drive to face SW instead of flee. She says "I'm not afraid of SW anymore, and I'm a better force captain than you ever would have been." Let's take this in parts: Catra won't run from her abuser, she's already planning to take her down. Doing so is important to Catra, as it fixes her world in an important way. And that Adora can't see this just shows how far apart they are now. In Catra's mind, Adora was supposed to stay, and as they rose to power together, they would have supplanted SW, fixing Catra's world. The two of them would have been stronger in the end. But Adora did leave, so Catra impatiently tries to get Adora to see that she won't just run away. If Adora doesn't want to help Catra overcome this evil, then she'll do it on her own.

Her disappointment in Adora for abandoning this fight is apparent, what comes to mind is when Catra calls Adora weak in the Sea Gate episode. And now Catra knows she's got the power to do this, she's a force captain, and if she can just find a reason to depose SW she knows she has the station and fighting ability to take her down. She always knew she could lead, but was happy to let Adora have success because she really didn't want that responsibility. So she points out her superiority, not to show that she's better than Adora, but to tell Adora she was blind to Catra's worth, and to be hurtful to Adora for abandoning her.

They flash back to their child selves: Adora looks at Catra, hurt and confused "You always said you didn't care about things like that." Adora is feeling hurt by the idea that she was unknowingly taking advantage of Catra, because Catra has seemily just told her she was lying.

Now, this next part is important, and it's important that we are seeing Catra's reaction as her child self: Catra looks sad and lonely as Adora finishes her question, and she's crying. Something adult Catra would never let herself do. So we're seeing a much more authentic expression of Catra's hurt and emotions than if it were her present self. What you need to understand here is that those emotions don't really match her words... Catra tells her "Well I was lying, obviously!" But her face says she's angry and hurt at Adora for not seeing her pain.

As she delivers those words her face is full of accusation and insult, she's being dramatic, something we will see Catra do time and time again. She stares down Adora, eyes scrunched up, showing Adora how betrayed she felt by her insensitivity. Then we get sadness, disappointment. Finally, we get a lonely kind of furious sorrow: all that time feeling alone and Adora didn't bother to understand is written on her face.

The tears are still flowing, but as she turns away they shift back to their present selves. Adult Catra looks totally alone, heartbroken.

Ok but how we REALLY know Catra isn't telling the truth is this: almost word for word, this moment exists in episode 1. ANY time you see that happen in this show, you need to look back to find the meaning of it.

>We will need to look in totality of this scene in episode 1: An excited Catra pounces on Adora, asking her what SW said. She sees the badge and takes it. Here's a funny thing, because we see Catra jump on Adora you might think Catra is always like this, she just comes into Adora's space as she pleases. But once Catra has the badge, we see no anger or jealousy. Just total wonder. She shows nothing but exuberation and happiness for Adora's promotion (pic 1, lower left fyi).

Catra knew this could be the turning point she's been waiting for, that Adora was due for promotion. And so she's jumping all over Adora, full of joy. We only see her attitude change once Adora tells her SW isn't letting her go on missions. And so, we can infer a lot of information from this...

Catra expected this moment to change their lives for the better. That Adora's rising in rank means freedom, the beginning of something new. Some many new things, in Catra's case. But Catra definitively shows us in this scene that she doesn't desire the success for herself. She only shows happiness for Adora, for them together, and she's ecstatic. (pic 1, fyi)

This, in Catra's mind, probably means the start of their romantic lives. If Adora is the force captain that brings them to victory, SW won't be able to just trample all over their lives. Catra can begin letting down some walls, maybe even let Adora pursue her romantically. If they're together, and Adora is on her side because of that, she becomes safe from her abuser. It's a much better outcome than trying to fight SW, but that's not how the story goes. No, Adora leaves her instead. How's that for emotional whiplash? All of these truths are laid bare in s3ep5, when we see Catra's perfect reality, when she and Adora are together romantically. Catra only wants to be safe and to be loved, but when Adora leaves her she loses trust in the goodness of Adora, and in people in general.

> Adora tells Catra she shouldn't be surprised she's been cut of of the mission because she's so rude to SW, to which Catra responds by calling Adora a people pleaser, then storming off in anger...

::Note, as this is important: Adora is taking SW’s side, and not Catra’s, which is entirely opposite of their early childhood memory of Octavia. It shows how Adora had started listening to the negative judgements others placed on Catra...

>Adora goes after Catra, finding her sulking on the roof. Catra is angry, betrayed by the world, at the injustice that SW is in her life. Adora asks "I didn't even think you wanted to be a force captain?" Catra tossed the badge at her, saying she doesn't. Then she folds her body up, holding herself. Adora sees this, but doesn't touch her. She's being careful to respect Catra's boundaries. But the anger Catra feels here isn't about being denied the chance to be a force captain, it's at all the hurt that SW has dealt her and continues to do so. And Adora doesn't see that, which disappoints Catra. But, she's unable to verbalize it herself, she is too insecure in her emotional vulnerability, so she lets it slide.

What we have here is two different instances of the same question with two different answers, but in both cases Catra is telling the truth. In episode 1, it's the truth that she doesn't care about being a force captain because of her love for Adora, and the promise, in her mind, that they will eventually be together. In episode 11, Catra then says she lied, and this now is also true: Catra did think about what she was going through, all the pain and sacrifices she made for Adora, which were done in the name of love. But Adora doesn't love her the way that Catra loves Adora, instead leaving her behind. And so now that Adora didn't ever see how excellent a person Catra actually was, how dedicated to her she is, and the pain she was willing to bear for her sake, it does matter. Because that's shitty of her, and so now Catra will survive on her own by her own excellence, her strength that Adora never stopped to see. So Catra is guilting Adora, trying to make her see how blind and unfeeling she is.

>Back to ep11: Catra tries to walk away from Adora, who desperately chases her, trying to understand why Catra is becoming so distant, wanting her to tell her what's wrong. She reaches out for Catra's shoulder in one last attempt to get Catra to talk, she knows touching Catra could maybe get her to be more open. But the truth is Adora has been far too easy on Catra, she needs to be more forceful if she wants Catra to talk, which she later comes to understand... she's been coddling Catra, and so Catra is allowed to wallow in her unhealthy mental states.

Catra takes Adora's hand, forcefully holding it away from her and delivering a hurtful line: "Why do you think I gave the sword back to you in the fright zone? I didn't WANT you to come back, Adora!" This hits Adora like a load of bricks, her dismay is evident. And it's all true, which is the sad part. Catra was already preparing to cut ties with Adora, as even by that point she had come to a realization, a decision: if Adora doesn't want to be with her, then she'll do it herself. She will do the hard things on her own.

She turns away from Adora, looking hurt and betrayed. And Adora is at a complete loss, she doesn't know this side of Catra, this part of her that has survived hardship all these years... she lets her leave, not knowing what to do.

Adora is then attacked by the security, which takes up her time. As that happens, we see memories only shown to Catra. Catra runs, emotionally overwhelmed as all the unfair judgements, the abuse, and hollow apologies ring out around her. All the years of frustration and sadness weigh on her, she tries to keep it together, lashing out at the holograms. She falls to her knees, fighting back emotion and trying not to cry, her inner, vulnerable self is near the surface, and she's trying not to break down in tears over all of the hurt she's had to bear...

… and then she hears soft crying...

She turns to see her younger, tiny self, crying. Then, a tiny Adora joins the tiny Catra. Unlike the other memories, Catra never flashes into her younger self, she just watches...

The tiny Adora pulls the blanket down, Catra hisses at her... Adora sits down next to her tenderly. And we finally get the promise, the two parts that Adora has so tragically broke...

Adora tells her "It doesn't matter what they do to us, you know? You look out for me, and I look out for you... nothing really bad can happen as long as we have each other." The tiny Catra looks at Adora, wanting to trust her, to believe in her. As she says the question, present Catra echos it: "You promise ?" This was a sacred moment that gave Catra hope as a young orphan, that maybe she would be ok.

And so, the present Catra echoes it. Adora tells her she promises, as the skeptical present Catra looks on. Tiny Catra is still sad, insecure... she hugs Adora, needing this. Adora suggests they go back out to play... and we see tiny Catra look at her, still afraid, reluctant, wanting to stay. But she decides to trust Adora, and so they walk out, holding hands. Then something unique happens. Tiny Catra stops to look up at her present self: note, this is entirely a unique moment in the simulation, it never happened in reality... and yet Catra is given this moment...

The innocent child stares up Catra, making her see her. It's a look full of meaning, it doesn't carry any specific emotion... only innocence. Catra is having an inner child moment. That most deep and innocent part of her, her vulnerable self who feels love, is communicating with her. It's asking her to see it's vulnerability, and it's pain. Catra sees this, all of the pain Adora has caused her, the breaking of the promise, the promise that this innocent part of her was holding on to desperately with hope. She is forced to acknowledge Adora's disloyalty to her, her carelessness. Catra is reflecting on how she did her absolute best to keep that promise, even after Adora failed to look out for her in SW's chamber. Catra was so loyal and so good to Adora all of their lives; she made sure Adora had a good life, and she played by SW's rules so Adora could be the chosen one, wanting to protect her. All in the hope that they would be together, and that their love was real. But Adora couldn't even do that much, she left her. And Adora doesn't understand her, she doesn't even seem to miss her.

[pic 9: Broken Promises, Catra’s inner child, The Hero goes Her Own Way].

Present Catra watches her tiny self leave, coming to the tough realization: that she's never been able to trust Adora, not really. Her love isn't reciprocated, not by her standards.

…. which makes Adora a deeply unsafe person to Catra...

Catra survived SW's abuse, learning to believe in herself, protect herself because no one else would. All while keeping this hope of love in her heart, this vulnerable core of herself that has tenderness and loves Adora, and needs love back. But, her need for love goes to such a deep vulnerability that giving in to it and then again being rejected or forgotten by Adora would simply destroy her. SW held the threat of death over Catra’s head her entire life, and Catra resisted it, got through it by being tough and trusting in herself. So now she sees she can't trust Adora: everything that happened since she left her behind, the fact that Adora always treats her as an enemy, that she seems to show no lingering desire for her, and doesn't even seem to miss her while replacing her with new friends, seems to confirm her worst fears. Fears that have been building over the years, starting when Adora broke their promise in SW's chamber, and then as Adora pursued her success while accepting praise and privilege from SW, ignoring the abuse Catra bore because of it. She decides she can't trust Adora. Love is a lie, a weakness. A weakness that could destroy her last bit of individuality, and belief in the world.

And so, Catra, The Survivor, makes the decision... in her mind it's the brave one, just like way back when and she decided to bravely stand up to SW's abuse and not let it destroy her: she will stand up to the threat that is the weakness of her love for Adora. Adora is selfish, she doesn't deserve Catra's love. She was stupid to believe that love was even possible, for someone like her… who has always been ignored, and told she is unworthy of praise or even existence. There's only one thing left for her to do: she will be alone, strong on her own, for herself.

Her gaze hardens... that part of her that has made sure she survived SW's abuse, and made sure she won fights when she was threatened, is now the decider. It will protect her from her vulnerability, and reject Adora for her. I suppose you might be confused as to what I'm referring, or maybe not... If you haven't had to fight for your life, whether physically, mentally, or otherwise, you might not know this side of yourself well. But we all have it, it's The Survivor. And while I knew mine would protect me, I didn't accept it as my real self, I didn't accept its necessary but vicious deeds as my own. This is very much how Catra is, and as the series goes on she puts this survivor in charge of more and more decisions, we watch her deteriorate as this part of her gets out of control, protecting her from darkness with more darkness. All the while her vulnerable inner self suffers, watching the horrible deeds and becoming more and more alone, desperate for affection.

>Adora is outnumbered, eventually ending up hanging from the cliff's edge by spider webs. She hears Catra return, dealing with the spiders. Adora looks up, hopeful because Catra has returned...

Catra saunters in. Let me say a few things before we go through this part: Catra is about to say a lot of things that aren't really true. They are instead meant to be hurtful to Adora, Catra is being intentionally mean. We shouldn't take her exact words as her authentic beliefs, because they're not... no, Catra is doing what she believes she has to so she can be apart for Adora, and be safe from her. The truth is, Catra needs to be away from Adora. She's too scared of the vulnerability that is her love for Adora, because Adora hasn't shown her that she cares. And she can't do that by defecting, no, she must stay with the Horde. It's the only thing she feels there is left for her to do.

Now, let's go through this: and heads up: I'm getting at something very powerful that's going on here that you may not have realized. This speech is, in fact, a heroic moment. A heroic moment... for Catra. Not Adora, for Catra. And you just need to open your ears to hear it...

"Hey Adora."

🎶 is sad

"Catra! Help me, please!"

"This thing wouldn't work for me if I tried, would it? It only works for you... then again, you're special... that's what Shadow Weaver always said..."

🎶 is melancholy

"Catra, what are you doing??"

"Ah, ya know, it all makes sense now... you've always been the one holding me back... you wanted me to think I needed you, you wanted me to feel weak."

🎶 has even tone

"Every hero needs a sidekick, right?"

"Catra that's not how it was.."

🎶 rises, falls, sad (“Promise” begins playing)

*Catra chuckles* "The sad thing is I've spent all this time hoping you'd come back to the Horde... when really you leaving was the best thing that EVER happened to me..."

🎶 lowers, is dark, is dramatic. -Note: we see Catra seemingly become deranged as she says this line. This is Catra deceiving herself out of perceived necessity.

"I am so much stronger than anyone... ever... thought." *she cuts part of the web*

🎶 begins to rise, uplifting

"I wonder what I could have been if I'd gotten rid of you sooner." *she cuts the rest of the web, Adora falls, catching herself*

🎶 rises, is dramatic

"I'm sorry! I never meant to make you feel like you were second best. Please, don't do this."

🎶 is still rising, uplifting

*Catra stands proudly, nobly, looking at the sword. She looks down at Adora, then she casually tosses the sword past her...

🎶 is rising, hopeful, heroic.

"Bye Adora, I really am going to miss you..."

🎶 is heroic, violins now playing, adding depth

*Catra turns and walks away from Adora, proudly*

🎶 has risen to its height, crests, is heroic.

"Catra... Catra, no!!"

🎶 remains high, cresting, heroic

*Adora cries, sad, confused by Catra's leaving her...*

🎶 crests again, fades out...

Ok, so... let's talk about what just happened here. The undeniable conclusion is that this was meant to be a heroic moment, and a damn heroic moment... for Catra. The writers are telling us that Catra leaving is an important part of her hero’s journey, and that it was the right thing to do. You might be wondering, how can that be? The short answer is, Catra is on a hero’s journey unlike all the other hero’s journeys normally portrayed in fiction. All of it, even her darkest deeds, all her cruelty towards Adora, will be part of a very... important... and powerful... journey. One which will forge her into a hero in this series, in her own incredible right... how this is, what she is, is yet to be revealed... but make no mistake, she's a hero. Just not the one you expect…

We see Adora open her eyes, and see Light Hope. She tells Adora to let go. She means of her emotional attachments, as we find out. Adora cries for her lost Catra, that she couldn't bring her back to her. She lets go...

BIG ASSERTION TIME: Now, I know it's a common theory that these memories were all just an elaborate manipulation by Light Hope to divide the girls from each other, but I don't agree with that. No, I believe this was a memory journey guided by Catra, subconsciously, to help her tell Adora why she couldn't come with her, why she has to be apart.

Take for instance the memories and visions that Adora sees when she's on her way to the Heart of Etheria in season 5: this system exists apart from Light Hope, who dies at the end for season 4. This simulation comes from somewhere more primal: in my belief, it is the deep magic of Etheria being visualized through the First One's tech. We see the simulation show Catra the promise memory, something Adora isn't shown at all, and then allows her to see her inner child's hurt. Something deeper is going on here, and you should consider how strongly the magic of Etheria is resonating with Catra when it does. Because the magic of Etheria will again speak directly to Catra, this isn't the last time... In short, the magic helps the two of them to understand each other, because Catra is an important part of Adora's true She-ra journey.

I also believe that a theme of this series is that abusers, like L. Hope, are not perfect vindictive manipulators. They are flawed, and L. Hope in particular, I believe, is no genius: she fails time and time again. That L. Hope uses the moment to get Adora to let go is her using the moment to her advantage, she didn't play ultimate control over it. She just piggy backed on Catra's hurt to do it. So that last memory really was for Catra... Furthermore, I simply cannot believe L.Hope would understand the concept of the inner child… as she can't even understand sarcasm.

But now, because of this, Adora now knows of Catra's pain... and this is the beginning of Adora's long journey back to Catra, of her repairing their bond…

Let's address the obvious counterpoint: Adora now knows that Catra is hurt, but she doesn't yet understand why. And it's not really her fault, as Catra doesn't know how to talk about her feelings, among other things. But it's apparent that Adora doesn't remember these crucial memories as well as Catra does, even though they were critical in her development as well. Adora is a mess of emotions, just like Catra, and (if) she has ADHD, it might be one reason why she doesn't really get Catra. Especially if her parental figure has been manipulating it against her. Adora very much vibrates between stimuli anxiously, so SW might have made her forgetful by distraction over time. Also, the way in which Adora treats Catra as an enemy when she doesn't accept Adora’s (totally rushed, afterthought, and hollow) ultimatum that she defect with her, is a reflection of Adora's ingrained Horde war training… this is something she has to unlearn, as it is wrong. But Adora is a good person, she really, truely, is, because Adora never stops trying to make it better. And so, she slowly, but surely, comes to understand Catra’s trauma.

We get one last scene of Catra returning to the fright zone. We get to see Catra's truth here: She walks, as if she's not even there, she's deadened by the sorrow and the inevitability of what her life will now be: one of hard work, and zero joy. She will try her best to stand on her own, and put Adora out of her heart, slamming its doors shut against love. It doesn't work, but that's what she's trying to do, nonetheless. This is the beginning of a profound depression that builds over the next 3 seasons, and combined with new traumas, nearly takes her life.

But the tech Catra has brought back will end up giving her what she needs to face down and depose SW, just like she needed...

::Here is another complicated twist that's so essential to She-ra as a series: Catra, in fact, protects Adora by taking down SW. Catra may go on to command the Hordes forces so effectively that it pushes the Princess alliance harder than it's ever been pushed before, but her deposing SW is extremely important in the story. She both removes SW’s ability to attack Adora, and then denies her any sorcerous power by taking the Black Garnet from her, since SW needs an external source to draw power from in order to use her vampiric powers...

Ok so more theory time: it's a common belief that Catra stays with the Horde, and goes on to try to conquer the world out of some deep need to externally validate herself, and to prove she was the better child by beating Adora. I don't think any of these explanations are true. Catra may go on to play such a character on a surface level, but every time she professes to have any such ambitions, she is either in the presence of Adora, or under incredible stress. In the one case, she's saying those things to try to hurt Adora, and make her see how naive and foolish Adora always was, especially now that Adora thinks she can fight against her.

In the other case, it's actually her survivor mechanism trying to take over, to make her world safe. In every case where Catra says something about ambition, somewhere in that scene, Catra shows the distinct emotions of her true inner self: generally, these emotions are sorrow, fear, and loneliness. They don't exist on screen long, they are what is known as micro expressions. (See below for a short discussion of Catra’s micro expressions.)

To put it simply, the only reason Catra stays with the Horde is so she has somewhere she can be separate from her feelings and heartbreak over Adora, and then she climbs the ranks in order to find safety, first from SW, and then Hordak, once he threatens her life with his temper tantrums. That she fights against Adora is just a collateral consequence, she isn't out to get Adora, but nor does she care if Adora gets hurt, because she’s hurt her. Catra does fight against the princesses, though (including She-ra).

A core feature of Catra's character is indeed one of personal power. She's a person who is told to hurry up and die at an early age, but refused to do so. So her arc, her issue, isn't a cautionary tale about chasing validation, it's about her overcoming her fear of vulnerability and allowing herself to rely on others in a way that lets her be safe without needing to combat the darkness with more darkness. But vulnerability scares her because of the abuse she experienced.

As for validation, the only person she would want that from is Adora. This is because Catra believes in herself already: that she has a sacred right to exist, no matter what SW and others may tell her (note: Adora struggles with this, she's actually the one who seeks validation). But, she also needs love, and she is too fearful that Adora doesn't really love her and is afraid of being hurt by that. It's also why I think she's so chaotic towards Adora: her inner child tells her adult self to protect her from her love for Adora, which it tries to do, but that same child misses and needs Adora in so many ways. So she's trying to be mean to compensate for the incredible desire she feels towards Adora. I love it when Adora calls her a brat in season 5, it's such a well deserved line, mmhhmmm.

Actual discussions of how these particulars play out in the show are better left for another time, but there you have it.

Promise sidebar discussions: Catra’s micro expressions; Catra nearly dies at the Battle of Bright Moon

“White Out” microexpression discussion: [see pics below] This is the first time since the Battle of Bright Moon that Catra and Adora meet. So it's a good time to talk about Catra’s micro expressions. Picture 1: Adora says “Hey, Catra” out of the blue and Catra is completely blindsided, she figured she wouldn't be bothered out in the middle of nowhere. She's anxious and unhappy to be seeing Adora. Along with her suspicious absence the episode before in “Roll With It”, the answer is obvious: Catra has been avoiding Adora. She may have cut ties with her in “Promise”, nearly bested her at the Battle of BM, but she doesn't want to see her. She doesn't know what she feels about her.

Picture 2: Enraged monsters are decimating the base, and a battle breaks out over the corrupted disc. Catra is desperately trying to protect it, because she can control Adora if she has it... and she needs this chance to have her back. As Catra reaches to pick it up, she's facing away from everyone and so no one can see her desperation and sadness from missing Adora. (pic 2) Shortly after, we also see her clutch the disc desperately to her chest in a way that's very endearing, right before the monster attacks her and makes her drop it. Then, as she's about to die in its jaws because she doesn't want to give Adora up again, Scorpia breaks the disc and saves her life. We see in this episode as Catra completely loses track of her emotions, and now realizes she has to come to terms with the fact that she's so desperately sad from missing Adora, she was willing to die just for a chance to have her back.

Pic 3: Catra hates working for the Horde. She HATES it. She gets zero joy from the job, and she’s already figured out that Hordak will kill her if she screws up too badly. She didn't want this job, plain and simple, but now feels stuck with it. None of this is the life she wanted. Combining this knowledge against Catra’s declaration to Adora at the end of Promise, we know she's not happy that she had to go her own way...

Catra’s near death experience at the Battle of Bright Moon

At the Battle of Bright Moon, Catra leads Adora (She-ra) away. They battle, but then Catra retreats and instead starts listing out every single worst fear of failure she thinks Adora has. It's a dark moment, she's acting much like SW did to them as children, and we watch her manipulation take root in Adora. Finally, her words are too much, and as Catra looks down at Adora's (She-ra's) back, we see Adora become deranged, overcome with her fear of failing everyone... (pic1, above) she picks up a boulder and throws it directly at Catra. Catra is knocked flying, and only by the barest of margins does she keep from falling to her death. Adora nearly kills Catra. And so, as Adora drags Catra up from the cliff and slams her into the wall, we see a totally heartbroken and emotionally crushed Catra. In this moment, Catra believes all of her worst fears are confirmed: Adora only cares about being She-ra, so much so that Adora would kill her in the name of being that hero. Catra uses this moment, this belief, to justify her division from Adora. Sadly, she's wrong... she's ignoring the seriousness of the threat that the battle poses, and as Adora was facing away from her during that moment, she doesn't see the terror and desperation Adora experiences due to her cruel words…

Oh, and one more thing before we go: when Catra says “What, did you really think this was about you ?” SPOILER ALERT: It was. Because She-ra is one big Catradora story… and we love it.

As always, thanks for reading. <3

~EtheriaDearie

P.S. :: as I am new to tumblr, if you enjoyed reading this, please consider giving me a reblogg! Thanks!! 🙇💛

[heartcal]

distant; c.h. (pt. ii)

i am so happy that a lot of you liked the first part!!! the feedback i got turned me into a puddle of happiness :^D

i got requests for a part two and so i am delivering!

it is longer than the first (and than i expected it to be), and i do feel like i rushed it so story progression may be moving a bit too fast. nonetheless, i hope this mends the hearts i broke with part one! 🤪

if there are any mistakes, do not hesitate to tell me!

pairing: calum hood x reader

summary: you feel like the relationship is deteriorating because he’s gotten distant. you want to bring it up with him, but how can you when he doesn’t realize something is wrong? and why does it invoke a hurtful argument when you voice your feelings?

warnings: just some swears, that’s about it

genre: angst, fluff

wc: 3,590 words (wOw)

part one | my masterlist!

Adjusting to life without Calum is hard. Seeing the pictures on your wall and your nightstand, along with the photos on your phone, mock you. The obvious thing to do would be to delete the images on your phone and take the pictures down move on, but you cannot bring yourself to do so.

His favorite mug he used when he came over is still in the cupboard, on the highest shelf that you can’t reach, so it stays there, taunting you when you reach for your mug. The magnets he got you when he toured were still on your fridge, holding some documents and reminders. Even the pair of sunglasses he always forgot to take with him sits collecting dust next to the coffee maker.

You need to move on, but all the little things around the house that you can’t get rid of is making it hard.

Days after he walked out, you moped around your apartment. You snacked on some foods but haven’t had full meals. You’re sure your utility bills will be lower than usual this month since you only shower when you start smelling yourself (luckily you were able to work from home), and you tend to stay in your room, so you don’t use much electricity.

Your friends know about what happened – your best friend was worried about you missing their calls and social media messages and came to visit you – but no matter how hard they’ve tried, they can’t get you to come out. Outings get turned down, video or audio calls get rejected, video game invites get ignored, and invitations to visit you get thrown out. They’re worried, you know they are, but you need time to yourself.

But how long will it be before it gets too much? All this time alone could just push you further down the wallowing hole?

It’s week three now. You took some time off from work to work from home due to your state. You didn’t want your coworkers questioning your dark circles and puffy eyes, nor did you have the energy to commute. Now that some time has passed, your boss has called you back in for a meeting (which you just have to sit through and you can head back home).

It feels weird being out in public. Your relationship wasn’t ‘out there’ like the other guys, but it was known to the public. You were worried about fans coming up to you in the street alone, but with Calum, it wasn’t nerve-wracking. So now that you’re on your own, you worry that a fan will walk up to you, knowing that your relationship is over with him, you fear you’ll be chastised for breaking his heart.

After the meeting, you plan to head straight home, wanting nothing but to lay in bed snuggled into your comforter with your laptop playing a random Netflix movie. That is your plan, but it falls through when your phone starts ringing with a familiar name.

It’s Calum.

Sitting in your car, you stare at the device as it continues to ring. Do you answer it? Do you let it ring?

It’s the first time either of you tried contacting the other since the fight. You won’t lie: you did try to text Calum the next day and call him a few days later, but your finger never pressed send either time. The idea of getting ignored weighed heavily on you since it was what initiated the argument.

So with that in mind, you let it ring as you tossed it onto the passenger seat and started your car.

Your phone rang two more times on the drive home, and you ignored those as well, but once you parked in your spot outside your apartment it rang again.

You were annoyed, reaching for it to shut it off entirely, but this time, there was a new name on the screen. Ashton.

You contemplated answering the call. If you answer, you risk Calum being on the line and you’re not interested in talking to him just yet. But maybe it is Ashton, possibly calling to check on you and see how you’re doing. It can’t hurt to answer the phone.

Turning off the ignition, you answer the phone and felt relief when you heard Ashton’s voice.

“Hey,” he sighs out, and you can hear his relief mixed with worry in his tone.

“Hi, Ash,” you smile slightly.

“How have you been?” you hear him moving around as if he was sitting on the couch or in bed.

You inhale, wondering what exactly it is you should say. You cannot say that you’re doing well; it’s a lie whether or not he can see you. Saying that you’re fine would suffice since it’s not an exact ‘good,’ but it’s up on the line of lies with good.

“You know,” you exhale with a shrug of your shoulders, “just hanging in there, I guess.”

It’s silent on his end. You know he wants to say something but he’s holding back. Nerves creep up on you, fearing he’ll bring up what happened and while it’s a good thing to talk to someone, you don’t feel up for it.

“Listen-,” he starts but you cut him off.

“Ashton, if you’re going to bring up what happened a few weeks ago, don’t.”

“All I’m gonna say is, you two need to talk.”

Your eyes shut, stinging as you hold back tears. You mumble his name in an attempt to stop him from continuing, but he continues.

“I don’t know the full extent of what happened since Calum won’t open up—,” another sigh falls from him, “—but whatever did happen, you two need to fix it. Leaving things as they are right now is going to get neither of you anywhere.”

Ashton’s right. He’s absolutely right and you know it. Many questions need asking, and many have been left unanswered. If you two left things as they are right now, it’ll only make it hard to move on. You deserve closure.

“Alright,” you swallow the urge to cry, “I’ll see what I can do.”

“He’s called you today—before I did.”

“I know.”

Ashton’s silent again, and you hear more shuffling as if he’s walking around. His voice lowers, “He’s really not doing well. I don’t even recognize him; I don’t even know if this person is Calum.”

You bite your tongue, wanting to tell Ashton that Calum did this to himself, but you want to end the conversation and head inside.

“I have to go, Ash.”

He hums in response and bids you goodbye. You hang up and step out of your car, your shoulders feeling lighter hearing that Calum is doing terrible and maybe even worse than you.

Once inside your apartment, it hits you. You now have to talk to Calum (you don’t want to lie to Ashton or break a promise with him), and the atmosphere is just like it was three weeks ago.

The candle you had lit at that time has since burned out, but it still sits on the coffee table with a mocking glare from the sunset outside. The weather outside is nice: not many clouds yet the clouds that are there are reflecting the sun’s light, a light pink hue mixed with the harsh yellow.

You sit in the same spot, yet again thinking of what you should say to him.

Why did he act the way he did? Why was he so distant? Why was he dead-set on breaking your heart?

You gathered your thoughts for over an hour. You even wrote down your questions because you don’t want a repeat of last time. However, you weren’t ready to call him.

You made dinner first, wanting a distraction (and some fuel so you can stand your ground) before you had to make the call. You pushed away any intrusive thoughts, thoughts that would make you second guess calling Calum, or that would hurt you entirely. You wanted to be ready, with a strong front and both feet planted firmly on the ground.

However, your plan to call him is gone as your phone rings in the living room. You stand frozen in front of your sink, a sponge in one hand and a dish in the other, as the phone blares the annoying tone.

With a gulp, you put the items down in the sink and then dry your hands off with the tea towel hanging on the handle of the stove. You mutter words of encouragement to yourself as you approach the sound, and you can only hope you keep your resolve.

You grab your phone, and his name brings your nerves straight up. Your thumb shakes over the green button, and you know you have a couple of rings left before it goes to voicemail. You want to be the bigger person and talk to him, and you gain control over your shaky thumb and answer the call.

The phone is at your ear, and before you can give your greeting, he speaks up first.

“Hey,” he breathes out. His voice is soft, hesitant and unsure.

“Hi, Calum,” your tone mirrors his.

He stumbles over his words, not able to form a complete sentence, let alone a word. He has so many things he wants to tell you, but they slip his mind as fast as they enter.

“We need to talk—,”

“Can I come up and talk?” he cuts you off with his request that has your eyes bulging.

“What—you’re here?” you rush towards the window to see if you can look down at the parking lot, trying to find his car in disbelief.

He’s quiet, realizing how weird it was of him to show up unannounced. “Yeah,” his voice is starting to shake, “I’m here.”

Your resolve falls, a wave of emotions starts to fall over you and you bring a hand to cover your mouth.

He hears your breathing change. He knows you’re about to cry and he hates it. “Please, can I come up there? I…I want to fix this.”

Your eyes have tears threatening to spill as you stare blankly out the window. The memory of the last time Calum was here reopens the scars, but if this is going to be the way you get the closure, you’ll do it.

“Door’s unlocked,” you whisper, turning to head for the front door to unlock it.

He thanks you and hangs up, and you only have about two minutes before he’s walking through that door.

Your mind is racing with thoughts of his appearance, and how he will view you. Was Ashton telling the truth when he was describing Calum?

You wanted to prove to him that you were doing better. Your eyes dart to the photos on the wall, and immediately you start for the first one your eyes see.

It’s a photo from the first time you joined him on tour. He was ecstatic, a bright smile on his face as he holds you close to him—practically smooshed up against him—and in the background stood the others, giving a thumbs up. It was his lock screen for months.

The one to the left was a collage. It was a gift given to you and Calum from the tour you joined him entirely on. It had photos of you, of him, and you two together taken by the crew and the rest of the band. Calum had his own, and you recall seeing it hang proudly in the entryway at his place.

Every photo on your wall had a story, a fond memory, and taking them down is painful. You don’t stop the tears from falling as you take down the first two, putting them on the TV stand before reaching for more.

Replaying the memories as you take the frames off the wall, you fail to hear the knocking on the door and eventually the door opening.

Calum stands at the door, watching you take down the photos and he’s happy you don’t notice him yet. It’s a knife in the heart, and each picture you take down twists the knife.

He clears his throat and calls your name, making you jump and abruptly turn towards him. In your hands was a photo he cherished the most: you and him sitting together, on the beach, and he was staring fondly at you while you read a funny portion of the book you were reading. He told you once, that that photo was evidence of him falling for you, that you can see it happening. But with the abrupt turn, it flies out of your hands, the frame cracking and the glass shattering as it hit the edge of the coffee table.

Shit.

“Hi,” you stand shocked as you greet him. That was the last thing you wanted to do with that photo.

“Uh,” he swallows, “hi, um, do you need help?”

You shake your head fervently, “No, no, no. Well, maybe?”

He only nods as you instruct him to grab the broom near the door. He takes the attached dustpan off as you carefully lift the photo from the mess. It’s not damaged, but the sight of it is painful to look at. Placing it on the coffee table, you ask Calum for the broom and for him to hold the dustpan.

It’s silent as you clean, and it’s uncomfortable. The elephant in the room is stomping around and demanding attention. Once it’s clean, you invite him to sit down and offer a drink.

“Just some water,” he tries to offer a smile, but it fails to show.

Calum sits down as you take the dustpan to the kitchen to empty it. He looks around your living room, noting the photos you didn’t take down and the ones you did. The ones that had the most meaning were taken down, leaving odd spaces on the wall between the pictures that are still up.

He hears you coming back and he graciously takes the cup of water from your hand, taking a sip before setting it on the coaster on the coffee table.

You sit on a living chair, one that does not match the couch but you found endearing.

Calum plays with his hands while you play with a loose thread on a throw pillow from the couch.

Not wanting to sit in silence anymore, Calum speaks up, “How have you been?”

A scoff falls out of your mouth before you can stop it. “Really?” you ask, your eyes staying on the pillow, “Let’s not do the small talk, Calum.”

“Right,” he frowns, nodding his head in agreement before it falls silent again.

He has a reason for why he acted the way he did that night. It’s not the best way to approach a situation, but in his mind, that was the easiest.

“Why did you do it?”

Your voice shakes him out of his thoughts. He looks at you, and you’re actively avoiding his eyes by playing with the thread that has come off the pillow from your constant picking.

He sighs, eyes shut as he leans back. “The truth—,” he sits up straight, running his hands down his face, “—I’m sorry. The way I behaved, my actions, words…I regret every single thing.”

His eyes are on you as you slowly lift your eyes towards his. He tries to lock eyes, his pleading ones staring into your stern ones, but you look away.

He continues, “The way my mind worked that night was inexcusable. I had all these thoughts that, in hindsight, weren’t good. But at that time, it was easier for me. I felt that if I hurt you enough, you’d dump me and move on. But I couldn’t bear hearing you say those words, so I did it myself.”

“You’re still not answering the question,” you strain, eyes lifting from the frameless photo on the coffee table to his red ones, “why, Calum?”

The need to lock eyes disappears from him. It pains him, hearing the emotion in your tone and seeing your puffy eyes.

“Calum, you said some pretty hurtful things. You said I was clingy—,”

“I didn’t mean it—,” he cuts you off but you jump right back in.

“I’m not done!” you stand, tossing the pillow onto the chair, “You said I was clingy, said I was overreacting when I was worried about our relationship and ended things instead of talking to me.”

“I—,” he stutters, bring fists to his eyes to stop the onslaught of tears, “—You deserve better.”

“Even if I do, Calum, I want you. Just you.”

His tears slip through and a sob escapes him. His emotions come crashing down with no control over them.

You kneel in front of him, gently grabbing his arms to move his hands away from his face. He doesn’t budge, rather he uses his strength to keep his arms from moving. You sighed, “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

He shakes his head, a sniffle and a hiccup coming from him as he tries to compose himself.

You want to hug him, knowing that when he gets like this he shuts everyone out. You stand, moving to sit next to him but keeping a safe distance, just enough to rub his back. “Please,” you whisper, “open up.”

He begins to steady his breathing, relaxing as you rub his back. He sniffles a few more times before taking a deep breath, slowly moving his hands away from his face.

“In my mind,” he starts, his voice raspy and just above a whisper, “I thought that me being gone a lot wasn’t fair for you. You either stay at home and wait for me, or you have to take time off work or be able to work from home; I know it takes a lot out of you. I thought you deserved someone who was always here for you, who wasn’t constantly away because it was their job. I was a dick because I wanted you to hate me so the break-up wouldn’t be hard for you.”

“You’re so stupid,” you mutter.

“I know.”

“Calum,” you sigh, leaning back into the couch but keeping your hand on his back, “you’re so selfish. Why did you think that? I want to make decisions in this relationship.”

He sniffles again, biting his lip as he nods his head in understanding.

“You need to be open with me—talk to me, Cal,” you scoot closer to him, your hand moving from his back to his shoulder to give it a reassuring squeeze.

He leans into your touch, “I didn’t want to break-up. I didn’t want to hurt you, but I thought that it was what’s best.”

“You were so distant,” you mention, and he turns to look at you, grabbing your free hand with both of his.

“I know I’m distant after tour,” his eyes bore into yours as you bring the hand on his shoulder to land on top of his, “I feel drained and I am so appreciative that you give me space. But during this past tour, I—I just couldn’t face the fact that you’re alone and wait for me. I love you, so much, but I thought someone else can love you more than I can.”

You swallow a sob and lunge forward, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. His arms wrap around your waist and pull you close, his head nestling in between your neck and shoulder as he released more tears. He mumbles multiple apologies into your neck, fisting your shirt in his hands.

You stay holding each other for a while, relishing in each other’s company. Once he’s calmed down enough, he pulls away and holds your face in his hands, wiping away the tear stains and remaining tears.

“I don’t want this relationship to end.”

“I don’t either,” you agree as you rest your hands atop his.

“Will you take me back?” he asks, his red, puffy eyes now devoid of sorrow, rather holding hope.

“As long as you promise to talk to me about how you feel,” you lean your forehead against his with a smile, “if you can promise me that, then yes.”

He mirrors your smile, closing his eyes and moving to touch his lips with yours.

You smile into the kiss and pull away to give him another hug.

“One more thing,” your tone is light as you pull away.

“What’s that?”

“Your shoes—,” you point down at his feet, “—need to be off in here.”

He looks down at his feet and chuckles, “Sorry about that,” he stands and heads to the front door, removing his sneakers before making his way back to you.

You open your arms and he gladly lays into them, the two you spooning on the couch.

“I mean it,” he whispers into your chest, “I love you so much.”

“I’m sorry about the picture,” your apologetic tone makes him lift his head and he looks to where your thumb is pointing.

He shakes his head, “Don’t worry, I know you didn’t mean it.”

You nod, bringing your hand to his head, running it lightly through his hair as you begin to drift off to sleep.

Calum hears your heartbeat slow down, and all the worry from the past three weeks seem to dissipate. He knows all the things he said are going to be hard to forget, and he’ll spend the rest of his life making it up to you if it means he can be yours.

[blossom-hwa]

Sunflowers |Summer| - JUYEON

Can’t believe it’s already Juyeon’s birthday!!! Hope deobiblr enjoys my contribution for the birthday of one of the best dancers in the kpop industry <3

I will be doing a taglist for Sunflowers, so if you’d like to be notified when the next part goes up, send me a dm or an ask! Post dates are also on my posting schedule :)

Pairing: Juyeon x gender neutral!reader

Genre: fluff, high school!au

Triggers: cursing

Word Count: 2.3k

Juyeon is just a sunflower, following the light of your smile. 

Summer | Fall | Winter | Spring | Summer, Once More

TBZ Masterlist | Interwoven

~ in summer, a stranger comes home

. . . . .

It’s the middle of summer when your mom delivers you a little piece of seemingly innocuous news, a piece of glittering information wrapped in old magazines and tied with cheap string to disguise its sparkle. Her voice literally vibrates with excitement when she tells you, which probably should serve as a warning or a signal of some sort, but in your defense, you’re tired from a day of classes and research programs and just want to eat and die.

“Our old neighbors are coming back!” she bursts, a spring in her step that you haven’t seen since the day you were accepted to your current prestigious research camp. “You know, the Lees who used to live next door?”

You blink once, then twice before the information sinks in. A memory settles at the front of your mind. “The Lees?”

“Yes!” She smiles widely. “I missed Yuna so much, I can’t believe she and her family are actually moving back. Don’t you remember, you used to be such good friends with Juyeon?”

More blurry memories of playing in the grass and dancing in the living room with a chubby little boy flash through your mind. You remember playdates that turned into study sessions in middle school, study sessions that disappeared when Juyeon moved away. And though you’d like to forget it, you remember sobbing your eyes out the day he left at the end of summer, the weather turning to fall. Sunflowers were blooming that day, wreathing your lawn in an unfairly bright ring of yellow as you wrapped him in one last hug before his father started the car and the family drove away.

“Mhm,” you only say, taking a box of cookies out of the cupboard. “I remember.”

“Won’t it be so much fun for you two to meet again?” Your mother’s smile turns suggestive as she side-eyes you. “You two were always so adorable together. Didn’t you once say he was your boyfriend in kindergarten?”

That memory makes you cringe. “Thanks, Mom, I was doing a really good job of forgetting that before you mentioned it.”

“Oh, hush.” She shoos you out of the kitchen. “You two were so cute together. I have no doubt you’ll be the best of friends again when they come back.”

“I haven’t seen him in four years, Mom,” you remind her. “People change.”

A glint comes into your mom’s eye. “Maybe so,” she replies cryptically, “but some feelings remain.”

Okay, so in hindsight, you should’ve taken a lot of what she said as a warning that your life was about to get flipped upside down by Juyeon’s homecoming. But with everything already on your mind, you more or less forget about the news until one day towards the end of summer, when your dad tells you to come straight home after your classes.

You stare up at him over your bowl of cereal. “Why?” you ask, mouth full.

“You don’t remember?” Your mom sits down just across from you. “The Lees are moving back in today, and we’ve invited them to dinner!”

Your brain buffers for a good few minutes before you finally recall your dad saying something about “dinner with the Lees when they come back” a couple weeks ago. “I didn’t know they already came back.”

“Well, they are.” Your mom’s fingers tap on the table with excitement. “You have your research, but we’ll be helping them move back in today, and then they’re coming over for dinner. We’ll probably already be home before you get back, so try not to look too messy, okay?”

Wincing, you remember the several still-recovering formic acid burns on your forearms from several days ago. You can’t hide those. “I’ll do my best,” is all you promise.

So that afternoon, instead of staying behind and chatting with a few friends, you find yourself walking down the sidewalk to the front of your house much earlier than usual. There are new cars in the driveway next door.

With the sunflowers beginning to bloom on your and your neighbors’ lawns, it feels eerily similar to the day Juyeon and his family left.

A slight wave of nervousness roils in your stomach. Quickly, as you walk up the pathway to your house, you try to untangle your hair with your fingers, straightening out your shirt as best as you can. As tired as you are, you don’t want to make a bad impression on your parents’ good friends. You don’t exactly want to look horrible in front of Juyeon, either. Even though he probably doesn’t have any idea what you look like anymore.

With a deep breath, you grip the doorknob and twist. It’s locked.

Frowning, you look down at the unmoving handle. Your parents must’ve locked it by force of habit when they came back.

So you knock.

Literally nothing could have prepared you for the boy who opens the door several seconds later to your pounding. He’s tall, muscled, with fine features and a curious look in his eyes, and he looks vaguely familiar.

For several seconds, the two of you just stare at each other, neither saying a word. As you’re trying to figure out why a really hot guy is at your house right now, a much more familiar woman appears in your line of vision, smiling widely as she holds out her arms to you. “Oh, my!” she cries, pushing past the boy to wrap you up in a hug. “I haven’t seen you in so long! You’ve grown so much!”

“Hi, Mrs. Lee,” you reply, still trying to figure out who the tall boy is. It isn’t until she starts pulling away that you realize he has her nose and her eyes.

Huh?

Then –

Fuck.

Oh, fuck.

Oh, fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

You nearly stumble back into the door from shock. “JUYEON?”

. . .

Juyeon thought his feelings for you had disappeared, he really did. When he moved away and thought he was never coming back, he took the love he’d held for you for so long, put it into a box at the back of his heart, locked it, and threw the key away. And as the years slowly passed, one after another, the box slowly disappeared from the forefront of Juyeon’s mind. He never forgot about it, but memories of you eventually stopped plaguing his mind day and night.

But that box never disappeared, not really. He thought it did, thought it dissolved into nothing over the years. Instead, it stayed, small but there, waiting for the right moment to burst and flood his body with the feelings he’d so carefully packed away so long ago.

That right moment is apparently when he opens the door to see a face he really never thought he’d ever see again.

Juyeon doesn’t recognize you, not at first. At second glance, he can pick out some distinct features that stayed the same (namely the sparkle in your eyes that hasn’t changed, even after all this time away). But during those first moments when he opens the door, he just stands there, trying to figure out who this person in front of him is.

Then it hits him, and the box of feelings explodes just as his mom starts pushing him away to wrap you in a hug.

You clearly don’t recognize him, judging by the curious looks you keep giving him over his mom’s shoulder. That makes Juyeon self-conscious – he hasn’t changed that much from when he left, has he? – and the embarrassment only compounds when you stumble back into the door, eyes widening as you yell his name in shock.

So, suffice to say, the conversation between you two at dinner is almost nonexistent. You look like you want the ground to eat you alive in your seat across from Juyeon, eyes barely looking up throughout the whole meal, talking only when someone asks you a direct question. Meanwhile, Juyeon’s stuck in his head.

Why, he despairs, didn’t these feelings actually disappear? Why does he still want to look into your eyes, get lost in your gaze like he used to so many years ago? Thoughts spin in circles in his head, thoughts of how you’ve changed and how you’ve stayed the same and how, oh God, his heart still races like no tomorrow when you meet his eyes for the briefest second before looking away out of embarrassment.

Juyeon needs a moment. He needs a moment to breathe, to think, to reason himself through this whole situation, which is why he volunteers to wash the dishes after dinner. Your mom starts praising him for being a perfect son and he dutifully lowers his head in embarrassed acknowledgment, thanking the heavens that he’ll have a moment to actually think, before she then looks at you to ask, “Why don’t you help Juyeon too?” and the world starts crumbling around his feet.

In perfect tandem, the two of you start picking up empty plates and bowls and carrying them to the kitchen sink. The adults make their way to the living room, laughing and chattering loudly, which only makes the potent silence between you two more prominent.

“I can wash,” you offer awkwardly, still barely able to look Juyeon in the eye (which is perfectly fine, because he thinks he might combust if you do just that). “You can dry? If you’re all right with that.”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” Juyeon tries to flash a smile, hoping it isn’t too shaky (the thumping in his heart makes it feel like the world is trembling around his feet). As the water runs and you start passing plates over to him, he does his best to ignore how close you are, how easy it would be to accidentally brush your arm with his.

Silence reigns until half the dishes are dry, and then you open your mouth. “Sorry about earlier,” you blurt, embarrassment and shame visible on your face. “I, uh, didn’t recognize you at first. Freaked out for a second.”

It’s surprisingly easy to laugh at that, to laugh at a statement that’s so blatantly you. You still haven’t changed, Juyeon thinks – you’re still the same bluntly apologetic friend he was in love with four years ago. It cheers him when your lips begin to turn up at his burst of laughter, face still embarrassed but beginning to warm with some happiness. “It’s okay,” he says, drying the next plate. “I didn’t recognize you either, not at first.”

“Well, I guess we can say that we’ve both changed,” you acknowledge, finally looking up fully.

Your smile could bring legions to their knees, Juyeon thinks. It certainly stops his hands from drying the next dish – in fact, he almost drops it. Even though the curve of your lips is small and he can’t see all of your teeth, the sparkle in your eye more than makes up for it. “Yeah,” he breathes. “Yeah.”

The two of you scrub dishes for the next few minutes in quiet again. Juyeon has no idea what you’re thinking, but he’s just trying to calm the beating in his heart.

This is not how he expected to feel when he moved back. Not at all. What he’s feeling isn’t even just everything he locked away at the end of seventh grade – somehow, the emotions have multiplied, compounded over years of neglect, and now he’s getting the full force of it.

“My mom wants us to be friends again,” you say, breaking the silence once again. “What do you think about that?”

Um, what the fuck is that supposed to mean? Juyeon thinks. Do you want to be his friend again? Or are you only trying to be nice to him for the sake of your parents?

“Well.” Juyeon bites his lip. “If you want to be friends again, I’d like that. But if it’s, um, just because of your mom, we don’t have to.”

At that, you smack a rubber-gloved, soapy hand against your head, shrieking slightly when you realize there are suds in your hair. Juyeon laughs, really laughs as he hands you a towel from a nearby rack. “God, I’m a fucking mess,” you groan, wiping the bubbles from your forehead. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that. I don’t want to be your friend again just because of our parents, that was just the only way I could think of to bring up the topic and yeah, I should’ve thought this out, I’m a fucking idiot.”

“Didn’t you get into one of the most prestigious research camps in the country?” Juyeon counters, hands moving automatically to take the towel from you and wiping off the suds himself. “You’re not an idiot.”

“Yes, I am.” You sigh. “I think it’d be nice to be friends again. If that’s fine with you.”

With your words fluttering in his heart, it takes Juyeon a good moment to realize he’s been standing with the towel pressed against your head for a full few seconds. Heat rising to his ears (he hopes you don’t see that), he quickly wipes off the last of the bubbles and returns the towel to the rack. “That’d be nice,” he echoes softly. “I’d like that.”

The smile you give him, tentative but much wider than before, makes Juyeon feel like he’s flying. He’s so far gone, he thinks, drying the last dish. He’s only seen you again for a few hours, and already your smile has him feeling some kind of way.

He’d follow that smile, he thinks. He’d follow that smile anywhere, just like one of the sunflowers on your lawn outside chasing the sun from dawn to dusk. That’s all he is, after all. A sunflower, following the light of your smile.

And as you look up, eyes scrunched as he says something to make you laugh, Juyeon doesn’t think he minds.

Not in the slightest.

[kodzukenscorner]

Tendo, Aone, Tsukishima, and Matsukawa in a coffee shop

anon asked: Hii!! Can I request a s/o fem reader who own coffee shop also the one who perfectly run the shop where Satori, Aone, Tsukii, Matsu always go there whenever they can. Until some guy (not customer because the customers always respect the lovely s/o owner ✊🤧) try to flirt her right infront of coffee of these boyfriend. 🥺😅

a/n: we stan coffee shop au’s!!

wc: 1,896

✶   ✶   ✶   ✶   ✶

Tendo

Honestly, Tendo doesn’t drink much coffee to begin with

But when he does he gets the most sugary, caffeinated drink you could imagine

He prefers to go for the different sweets you have on display in your case and he always comments on how good they look 

You like chatting with him as he always has something interesting to say

And to be completely transparent, he may have started coming for the desserts but he stayed for you

You were always so cheerful and competent

Sure there were waiters and baristas around but it was almost like you were running the place all by yourself 

Not that you made it look hard or anything

And most importantly, you seemed to genuinely like talking to him

Tendo had the tendency to scare people off with his eccentric personality but you were nothing but smiles and laughter around him

So suffice it to say, he was enraptured with you

But of course, he wouldn’t dream of bothering you at work so he made do with watching you in your element instead

Everyone in the area adored you and your little coffee shop and wouldn’t dream of causing any trouble for you

But not everyone gets the memo

Certainly not the guy who sauntered in one day, taking his sweet time scanning the menu and desserts

He seemed much more occupied with talking to you and asking you about all the different items on your menu 

You looked mildly uncomfortable but still had the same smile on your face

Tendo was watching intently for any signs of this guy stepping over the line

The second he leaned in just a bit too close and Tendo saw you flinch he was on his feet

He wrapped an arm around the guys shoulder and started talking his ear off about the different drinks and desserts and giving him a full blown review of everything there was

The guy eventually got fed up when Tendo wouldn’t stop talking and walked out soon after

You smiled gratefully at Tendo and gave him a free dessert for his troubles

“Wanna share?” He gave you a playful smile

Sitting across from Tendo, sharing a cake together gave you so many butterflies you almost thanked the creepy guy who came in and tried hitting on you for causing it

Aone

The first time Aone came in you were a little intimidated 

But when he placed his first order and sat down to drink it calmly you realized he was a pretty nice guy

You noticed this especially when his friends would come with him and get into loud arguments 

You thought you would have to go over there and tell them to be quiet yourself

But to your surprise, Aone just pushed them apart and they quickly shut up

Since then you were in a bit of awe around him, it should have been no surprise that someone as intimidating as him could make people be quiet 

It wasn’t just his own friends though, whenever a customer got too loud of rowdy, one look from him got them to settle down 

It took you a while to realize that he would very carefully watch you and your expressions

Every time he noticed you feeling stressed out because of a customer he always handled it before you had to 

You would always send him a grateful smile for having your back and you swore you could see the smallest blush on the tips of his ears

But maybe that was just your imagination

Sometimes you were in such a good mood and so thankful to have Aone help you basically keep the shop in check you would give him a free drink or snack

He always mumbled a small thank you and had a hard time looking you in the eyes

One time in particular you would have given him everything in the shop if he asked

Some of your customers can get loud and rowdy but all of them are fully respectful of you and your shop

But there were others, like the guy you’d never seen before, who waltzed in and walked right up to you

Before you even had a chance to ask him if he wanted anything, he started using the cheesiest pickup lines on you

No matter how much you tried to laugh them off and get him to order something or leave, he just wasn’t taking the hint

Your eyes flickered over to Aone who was in his usual spot already staring at you and waiting for a signal

The small distressed look was all he needed as he got up and stood right behind this persistent flirt 

The poor guy was so scared of Aone that he took off without saying another word, head hung low

You sighed in relief sliding Aone a cup of his favorite drink you had already made for him 

He looked at you a bit hesitantly when you pushed the drink towards 

“It’s on me” You smiled at him

“Can I pay you back with a date?”

That was honestly the first time you’d heard him say more than two words

And you were over the moon

Tsukishima

Tsukki is a regular at your shop and he’s honestly hard to miss

He comes in a lot to study and mostly keeps to himself but he’s also ridiculously tall and very cute

He’s usually quiet, headphones on and drowning out everything around him

You can’t help but wonder about him so sometimes you have to stop yourself from staring too hard at him

But soon enough you realized that he was doing the exact same thing

Almost every time he thought you weren’t looking in his direction, he would sneak a peek at you

You ran the shop flawlessly and always had a radiating smile on your face

Sometimes he would just stare at you, wondering how you always managed to have a sunny disposition around all of your customers, even the ones who were over the top with their orders

He really admired you for it and always asked himself if there was anything that could put you in a bad mood

Unfortunately his question was answered rather quickly when a guy he had never seen before walked into your shop

You were busy bringing a drink to a customer’s table and chatting with them for a bit to notice him

But Tsukki noticed right away

There was just something about the way this guy seemed much more interested in staring at your ass than the menu that rubbed him the wrong way

He even had the audacity to lick his lips as he waited for you to finish up your conversation with the customer 

Tsukki wasn’t about to give him the chance to bother you though as he got up and approached this guy before you even took notice of his presence 

“Hi would you like to order something?” Tsukki tried to put on the same smile you had when serving customers but his was obviously forced

The guy looked a bit confused and took a step away from Tsukki

“Sir, if you’re not going to order something, I’m going to have to ask you to leave”

This time Tsukki dropped his smile and stared right into this guys soul

He got the hint and scurried out of the shop

“I don’t remember hiring a new barista” You were standing behind Tsukki now with an amused smile dancing across your lips

“Sorry, I just didn’t like him staring at you like that” He replied, unable to properly keep eye contact

“Were you jealous?” The very faint blush across Tsukki’s cheeks was enough of an answer for you

“Sorry I don’t date employees, company policy” You smirked at him

This time he finally looked you in the eyes again, smirking right back at you

“Then it’s a good thing I don’t work here”

Matsukawa

This guy genuinely has no shame

The first few times he came into your shop was with some friends

You couldn’t help but notice the way they were whispering about you but the second you turned towards them they all looked away as if they weren’t just talking about you

It was never malicious, just a bit embarrassing to be honest

You realized they must have had some sort of crush on you but you didn’t want to admit it to yourself

They all soon learned to behave themselves a bit better and the whispers and stares stopped 

For the most part

All except one seemed to get over their little crush

Mattsun always seemed to have his eyes on you and even when you caught him staring he wouldn’t stop

He just didn’t seem to care and would send a lazy smile your way

It flustered you to no end and even when he wasn’t looking at you, the second he felt your eyes on him, he’d turn to your direction with another signature smile

You would ask him to stop, but honestly, he wasn’t even doing anything, just watching you work from time to time

But he still always managed to mind his own business and he was a paying customer who always spoke to you kindly and tipped well

He never overstepped his bounds with you

And let’s be real here, he’s undeniably attractive 

You wished all guys who seemed to find you attractive were like him, flirty but not creepy 

Unfortunately, not everyone knew how to do that and you got your fair share of weirdos

One guy in particular really got under your skin

It was close to closing and there were only a few customers left in the shop, Mattsun included

You were busy cleaning up a table to notice the man who had just walked in but when you turned around he was just a few feet away from you

Mattsun looked up from the work he was doing and watched closely to see if you maybe knew this guy

“Uh...can I help you sir?” You tried to take a step back to create some distance but the table behind you stopped you

“Can I have your number?” 

You were so shocked at his forwardness you just made a confused sound and he repeated his question

You told him no and asked if he wanted to order something before you closed but he seemed persistent in asking for your number 

This guy was much too close to comfort and just as you were about to shoot a pleading glance at Mattsun, you noticed he was already on his feet, hand on this guys shoulder 

“She said no, take a hint and go home already”

“Who are you? Her boyfriend?”

Mattsun looked over at you and shrugged “Yeah, I am”

After angrily sputtering a few words at Mattsun the guy finally left, along with the last few customers that were there, leaving the two of you alone

You sighed in relief and looked over at Mattsun, giving him a heartfelt thank you

“But why did you have to tell him you were my boyfriend?” 

“It got him to leave you alone didn’t it? And besides, who’s to say I won’t be your boyfriend soon anyway?”

You stuttered in embarrassment while Mattsun gave you his iconic lazy smile once more

“But how about we just start with a date?”

[jekde04]

A Glimpse of the Future

Pairing: Gruvia (Gray Fullbuster & Juvia Lockser)

Fandom: Fairy Tail

Genre: Romance

Word Count: 3,253 words

Summary: Juvia had always wondered where exactly she stood with Gray. She finally got her answer when Gray came back from Edolas and saw someone he never expected. [Based on Chapter 66 of Fairy Tail 100 Years Quest.]

You may also read it on FanFiction.net or AO3!

Juvia ran to the guild as fast as her feet could take her. If she only knew they'd be back this morning, she wouldn't have taken that three-day job outside Magnolia that prevented her from taking her usual station at the table nearest the guild doors – the one she claimed for herself every time Gray would come back from a mission.

She barged right into Fairy Tail and shouted, "Gray-sama!" attracting the attention of a few guild members. Everyone was so used to her Gray-related antics by now that they no longer pay much attention to it. Max simply pointed to the direction of the infirmary with a kind smile and told her, "He's over there, Juvia."

"Thank you, Max-san!" Juvia gave him a clumsy bow before she dashed off to the infirmary, as if Gray might disappear any moment. 

After all, it wasn't like her fear was unfounded. The last time they were together, Gray's body suddenly glowed and disappeared to God-knows-where for days. Only the thought of the rest of Team Natsu being with him made Juvia calm down.

And now they were back, she could hardly wait to see her Gray-sama.

Slowing down as she approached the infirmary, Juvia pushed the door gently and peeked. Lucy, Natsu, Erza, Wendy, and Gray lay on each bed, all sound asleep. Quietly, she made her way towards Gray's bed, the one farthest from the door and nearest the window. She sat beside him on the mattress, the bed creaking a little. 

Though Gray looked a little roughed up – bandages wrapped around his naked torso and left arm, another bandage around his forehead, and a small gauze on his cheek – Juvia was glad his injuries were far from serious. It would take a lot for Gray-sama to become worse for wear, she thought with a smile.

Juvia gently clasped Gray's warm hand nearest to her. The action made him stir, and in a couple of seconds, Juvia found her eyes locking with Gray's still sleepy ones. "Juvia?"

"Gray-sama! Juvia's sorry to wake you up like that!" She immediately let go of his hand and cupped her reddening cheeks. "Juvia was worried, so she just wanted to check up on you. She's just glad to see you're safe. She will let you rest now." Juvia started to stand up but Gray grabbed her wrist, causing her to fall back onto the mattress.

"It's okay, Juvia," Gray said, giving her a small smile. "I was actually looking for you when I got back."

It never ceased to amaze Juvia just how much more vocal Gray had been these days. After years of pining for him and barely receiving a response, Gray being more open and receptive to her was something she still had to get used to. She didn't mind it in the least, but she still couldn't control the blush blooming on her cheeks whenever he said something remotely sweet.

"Oh, Juvia went on a solo job while you were gone," she told him. When Gray's eyes narrowed at her, she quickly added, "But it wasn't anything dangerous, Gray-sama! Juvia just had to conjure rain for this small town. It was an easy one, really. And it was something only Juvia can do." She winked at him for good measure – after all, Gray liked it when she acted cute sometimes. 

During the past year, Gray had become increasingly reluctant to let her go on solo jobs, always insisting to come with her even if it was just a simple three-hour job. When his team wasn't around, he would ask her to tag along with Gajeel, Levy, and Lily. Though Juvia cherished his newfound protectiveness, she wasn't too keen on following him because she was perfectly capable of defending herself. Suffice it to say it had been the subject of a number of their disagreements.

This time though, she wasn't in the mood to argue with Gray, so she quickly changed the subject. "But where did you go, Gray-sama? What happened to all of you?"

With one last glare at her, Gray let it slide and sighed. Juvia pursed her lips to suppress the smirk forming on her lips. She knew full well that Gray would bring it up the next chance he got, but it was still a victory for her, no matter how short-lived. 

Propping himself up on the bed so he was sitting against the headboard facing her, he answered, "We were transported to Edolas."

"Edolas! You mean, the world without magic? How?"

"Apparently, the White Mage brought us there because she needed our help, but I can't really go into details. You know we can't divulge anything about the 100 Years Quest."

Juvia nodded. "Oh, so it was part of the quest. Juvia understands and won't pry anymore." She patted his leg and added, "Juvia's just really glad that Gray-sama's back in one piece."

Gray grinned. "Of course. And we got a lot of help too from the Edolas Fairy Tail."

Juvia's eyes lit up. "Really? So you got to meet our counterparts there!" she said, clapping her hands together. She heard so many tales about their Edolas doppelgangers, especially about Edo-Gray pining for Edo-Juvia. She got so jealous about it that she even reverted to her old hairstyle just to try to get Gray to notice her. Sadly, it didn't make a difference.

"Uhh... yes," Gray replied sheepishly, cheeks reddening as he did so. 

She waited for Gray to continue, but when he didn't, she prodded him. "So, how was it? Did Edo-Gray finally get Edo-Juvia to love him back?"

Gray simply nodded, not looking Juvia in the eye. Is Gray-sama embarrassed?

Wanting to learn more, Juvia continued to question him. "That's great! So, they're now a couple?"

"Y-yeah. Well, kind of."

Juvia's brows furrowed. "What do you mean? Is it like... ours?"

It was now Gray's turn to be confused. He looked at her, raising a brow as he asked, "Ours?" 

Juvia blushed as she looked away. Truth be told, she and Gray never sat down to have "the talk" before, as she always felt that Gray wasn't the type to put labels in a relationship – or even get into a relationship, for that matter. But the shift in their... whatever they had going on right now was apparent ever since their war with the Alvarez army.

For one, Gray had become more protective of her, not allowing her to go on solo missions he deemed dangerous (As if he had a say in that, Juvia thought smugly, though she appreciated the concern). Gray would also immediately cover her up or drag her somewhere private every time he realized she had once again stripped alongside him during their battles. 

And she couldn't deny that Gray had been spending a lot of time with her, whether on missions, in the guild, or even just some random day strolling at the park – eating caramade franks, laughing at each other's stories about their guild mates, with Gray insisting that "this is not a date" even as he walked her back home, his scowl getting bigger and bigger as they neared the doorstep of Fairy Hills.

And then there were those subtle touches and gestures, too small to notice if you weren't paying attention. But Juvia was Juvia, and she always paid attention to everything her Gray-sama did.

So she always felt those lingering touches on her elbow, her shoulders, and at the small of her back whenever they were walking together. She noticed those smirks that turned into smiles that he tried to hide whenever she said something amusing or did something cute. She basked at how he always sat a little too close to her even if there was still plenty of space on his other side, their elbows and knees touching. And there had been one too many times when she caught him gazing at her, eyes suddenly traveling somewhere else as his crimson cheeks betrayed him.

Juvia saw and loved all those changes. She couldn't deny how Gray made her feel special.

But if she was being completely honest, she wanted more.

She wanted him to talk to her more openly, so she didn't have to rack her brain just over analyzing his words. She wanted him to feel free to hold her hand whenever he wanted to, not just brush them against hers and get extra sulky when she wouldn't latch onto his arm like he was used to. She wanted to let everyone know that Gray was hers, erasing the fear that one day, he would just wake up and find a love rival who's a lot better than her.

Juvia wanted to know if they were on the same page. She wanted to know if they have a future together. 

But she also knew that she couldn't force Gray to take a step forward if he wasn't ready. So, Juvia did what she knew she did best for Gray – wait for him. Patiently.

"Umm, nothing, Gray-sama. Juvia just wanted to know what you meant when you said they were kind of a couple," Juvia stammered, internally chastising herself for almost forcing Gray to put a label on their relationship.

Gray just stared at her, as if debating in his mind what to say next. When he spoke again, it was in a low voice. "They're not like us... Actually, they're already married."

"Juveen!" Juvia shrieked and immediately covered her mouth, remembering that their friends are sleeping. She could feel her blood boil and all of a sudden, her face felt extremely hot. Against her will, her mind launched into an all-too-familiar scenario of the two of them exiting the church after their wedding, all their friends cheering at the lovely newlyweds. Gray would sweep her into his arms, lean her backwards, inch his face closer as she closed her eyes...

"Juvia? You there?"

Juvia's eyes snapped open – she drifted off to dreamland again with just the mention of marriage! Gray's hands were waving in front of her, his face a mix of concern and amusement.

"Juvia's s-sorry! It's just that... m-married..." Juvia stuttered, fidgeting on her seat. If the couples in Edolas are the same in Earthland, then does that mean that Juvia and Gray-sama would... She shook her head as her imagination threatened to run amok again.

But instead of giving him his usual scowl, Gray's lips curved into a small smile.

"That's not the best part."

Juvia just stared blankly at him. Is Gray-sama insane?! What else could be better than getting married to him?

"They... they have a son."

Juvia's jaw dropped as she felt more blood rush to her cheeks, and she fought the urge to squeal again. A son?! For Gray-sama and Juvia???

But instead of an equally embarrassed Gray, she was surprised to see him staring outside the window, a contented smile playing on his lips and a hint of pink on his cheeks. It was a completely new expression she hadn't seen in Gray before.

"You know... he has your eyes. Huge, dark blue ones, like you can just get lost in them. And your lashes, too. They frame his eyes so perfectly," Gray said as his eyes crinkled a little in remembrance. "His hair's like mine, though. Dark, but I think it had a tiny bit of blue in it. But a messy mop of hair like mine all the same." He ran his hand through his hair, letting out a small laugh.

He finally returned his gaze on Juvia. "At first, I really freaked out. I mean, that's a kid right there – five, maybe six – who looks like you and me at the same time. It's so uncanny. He even acts all quiet and cool, it's like looking in the mirror.

"But then he blushed, and he... he's just so cute. Too cute for his own good," Gray said with a soft smile on his face. Juvia was so fixated on what Gray was saying that she didn't notice his hand intertwining with hers.

"He... he looks so much like you when he blushes. All shy and cute, like I just want to squish his tiny cheeks and kiss them." He was smiling widely now, his other hand rubbing the back of his neck – a habit Juvia knew he does when he was feeling shy.

"I can't believe we could make something as precious as that, you know?" Gray locked eyes with her, and Juvia felt like a thousand butterflies were fluttering in her stomach for a thousand different reasons. 

Maybe it was the fact that their Edolas counterparts were now married and had a family together. Maybe it was because she had never seen Gray like that before, so happy and at ease. 

Or maybe it was the possibility that this was the same future laid out for them: a happy marriage and an adorable son who was the perfect mix of both of them, in looks and personality. 'I can't believe we could make something as precious as that, you know?' 

Could Gray-sama be thinking that far ahead... with Juvia?

She knew she could spend an eternity just watching Gray like that, but she had to remind herself that this was not actually their life. It was Edo-Gray and Edo-Juvia's, not theirs. Right now, she wasn't even in a formal relationship with Gray. Her heart sank a little.

Forcing to tear her gaze away, she shook her head and brought herself back to reality. "That's... that's nice, Gray-sama."

Gray frowned at Juvia's sudden change of demeanor. He squeezed her hand and asked, "Is there something wrong?"

"Well, it's just that... it's Edo-Gray and Edo-Juvia. It's not really us."

It took a few moments for Gray to respond. 

"Yeah, you're right."

They stayed silent for some time, Gray once again pensively gazing outside the window and Juvia looking down on her lap, busily fidgeting with her skirt. When he finally spoke, she could hear the uncertainty in his voice. "Juvia... don't you want something like that?"

A mix of emotions rushed straight into Juvia's heart like a raging river. Shouldn't Gray-sama know by now that there's nothing else in the world that Juvia wants than to get married and build a family with him?

"Of course Juvia wants it!" she answered, a little too loudly. Checking herself, she added in a whisper, "It's just that she's not sure if that's what Gray-sama wants, too."

Gray looked at her as if she'd grown another head. "W-what? But I thought all these will eventually lead to that!"

"E-eh? Wha... What does Gray-sama mean?"

Gray drew a deep breath. "Juvia, I know I'm slow at these... things, but I'm sure." 

When she didn't react, he continued. "It may have taken me a while to get here, but I'm here with you. I'm here for the long haul. And seeing that boy Greige, well, it gave me a glimpse of what our long haul looks like." He took her other hand in his. "I mean, I've always known and felt that it's going to be with you, but seeing it, in the flesh, it... it made me more excited about what the future has in store for us." 

Juvia couldn't believe her ears as her heart pounded mercilessly in her chest. Just a few moments ago, she was questioning herself whether this was what Gray really wanted, and now, here he was, telling her that they have a future together. Her eyes filled with tears as she grasped Gray's hands tighter.

 "Gray-sama wants... a future with Juvia?"

Gray averted his eyes and scratched his cheek with a finger, looking a little bashful. "Of course. Who else would it be?" he mumbled. Then he looked back at her, his eyes softening. "And frankly, I kind of want to start that future as soon as possible."

Steam shot out from Juvia's ears. She snatched her hands away from him and covered her chest. 

"E-eh?! Gray-sama wants to make a baby right now?" Juvia exclaimed, face as red as a tomato.

Gray flailed his hands in front of him, just as flustered as Juvia was. "N-no! Not right now, of course!"

She threw herself in his arms as he squirmed. "Juvia would love to! Juvia and Gray-sama better start right now if they want 32 babies!"

"32?! What the hell, Juvia!"

Juvia pretended to be hurt as she looked him in the eye. "Gray-sama does not want to have babies with Juvia, then?" She pouted and gave him her best puppy dog eyes, tears threatening to fall on her cheeks.

"No! I mean, yes! No! Juvia!" Gray ran a hand on his face, then sighed. He grabbed her shoulders and stared right back at her. 

"Look, I want babies. With you. But not right now. And not 32, for God's sake! Just please, don't cry." With that, he pulled her into his arms and Juvia couldn't help the warm feeling spreading throughout her whole body. Gray-sama really sees a future with Juvia!

Deciding to stop tormenting Gray, Juvia wiggled out of his grasp as she smiled and cupped his face in her hands. "Juvia's just teasing you, Gray-sama. But... she wants you to know how happy you made her just by hearing that Juvia is part of your future."

Gray's face softened, his hands cupping her cheeks as well. "I honestly don't know how you could think otherwise." Gray's face inched closer to hers, his breath fanning her lips, and Juvia closed her eyes.

"Get a room, you two," Lucy's voice broke the moment, making both jump away from each other, red cheeks and all. They were so wrapped up in their conversation that they forgot they weren't alone in the room.

"How many eggs would you like Juvia to lay, Ice Pants?" Natsu asked as he tried to control his laughter.

"Shut up, Flame Brain!" Gray retorted. "At least I'm not stupid enough to believe that babies come from eggs!" 

Natsu crinkled his brows in confusion while Lucy facepalmed and Wendy giggled. Erza mumbled something about Natsu's need for further education.

"Moron! They totally do! Happy came from an egg!"

"Natsu-san, I don't think it's the same..."

"Idiot! How did you grow up and not know where babies come from!"

"Natsu! Gray!"

As the petty exchange escalated to a full-on brawl, Juvia cheered her Gray-sama, heart fluttering with the promise that someday, a beautiful boy with her deep ocean eyes and his unruly dark locks would be jumping and shouting beside her, cheering his Daddy on.

A/N: I couldn’t resist writing this even though I was in the middle of working on another fic. I just can’t wait for Gray to tell Juvia about Greige!

[spencers-renaissance]

Night In/Night Out

Summary:  Emily Prentiss is your girlfriend and she finally asks you to meet her family (the BAU): cue the fluff.

Tags: fluff, reader-insert, team as family, flirting, cuddling, domesticity, protective emily, slight shy!reader 

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Read on AO3

It’s late by the time you get back to your flat, audibly sighing in relief as you push open the door and kick your shoes off to the side, too tired to put them away properly. It doesn’t even register that the lights are on, meaning your girlfriend is probably home, until you head into the kitchen to dump the groceries you’d picked up on the way home from work.

“Em?” you call, a little confused at not seeing her in the living room or kitchen. You set your bags and keys down on the kitchen counter before going to investigate, padding through the apartment.

“In here, sweetheart,” she calls back from the bathroom, and you pull the door open to reveal your very sexy girlfriend standing in front of the steamy mirror wrapped in a towel, wet hair falling over her shoulders. You’re struck in these moments by just how beautiful she is; how lucky you are to get to call her yours. She turns to face you, grinning widely. “Come here, gorgeous girl, give me a kiss.”

You smile at her from where you’re standing in the doorway and follow your orders, leaning in to press a loving kiss to her lips. “You’re calling me gorgeous? When you’re standing here looking like this?” you tease, kissing her again.

She laughs unashamedly, tipping her head back as she lets her guard down with you. “Hey, maybe we can both be gorgeous,” she says, brushing her thumb over your cheekbone before pulling back to drink you in. “Especially when you’re wearing this dress knowing full well what it does to me.”

“Well I didn’t even know you’d be here to appreciate it when I put it on this morning,” you say in mock defense, raising your hands.

“That’s even worse,” she explains, face deadpan, “you wear it when I’m not even here to appreciate it.”

You both giggle before you sober up a little and meet her eyes with an earnest gaze. “Well. How lucky we are that you’re here to appreciate it now,” you say, voice a little shy as it always gets when emotions get intense. “I’ve had my phone off all day so if you texted me to say you’d be home I didn’t get it, sorry, Em.”

“Don’t be sorry, baby,” she smiles softly. “We’re both home now, let’s make the most of it, yeah? Why don’t you jump in the shower and I’ll order a pizza, how does that sound?”

“That sounds absolutely darling.” You turn away from her to face the mirror, taking out your earrings and pouring some makeup remover on a cotton pad and begin wiping at your eyes. “Don’t appreciate the insinuation that I smell, though.”

“Don’t be cheeky,” she grins, lightly smacking your arse and making you squeak. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“I know, I know,” you concede. “You’re just usually the one teasing me, you see. If I see an opportunity I have no choice but to jump on it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Emily dismisses you,  but she’s smiling widely. “Right, I’ll go get dressed and get dinner started. You jump in the shower.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” you grin, relaxing into the gentle banter that comes with an evening in with your girlfriend. You’d only moved in together four months ago, just after your one year anniversary, so nights like these ones were still a novelty. Emily’s away so much and your job keeps you busy enough that you’re apart more than together, so you always take special care to appreciate evenings like these just a little bit more.

By the time you’re out of shower and dressed in one of Emily’s old FBI academy tops, damp hair tied up in a bun, Emily’s on the sofa with the overhead light turned out in favour of the light from the TV and some scented candles dotted around the living room that Garcia had given Emily as a housewarming present. Emily hadn’t really meant to give away her change of address, but it had slipped out at one of their girls plus Spencer nights after a few too many margaritas and soon the gift baskets were rolling in.

“Hey baby,” she murmurs as you clamber -- oh so elegantly -- over the back of the sofa and directly on top of her, situating yourself eventually so that you’re lying with your head nestled in her neck. Her arms come up to wrap around you, sliding under your t-shirt and caressing the dip of your waist, the rolls on your stomach. “How was your day?”

“Long,” you sigh, the gentle caresses and low-level noise coming from the TV relaxing you further. “James, that coworker I’ve told you about, pissed me off again tonight so I finally reported him, but then his buddy Kyle wouldn’t let up on me about it and only left me alone after I threatened to report him, too. Really I wanted to tell him I’d castrate him in the parking lot but Daisy told me that was ‘too unprofessional’.”

Emily giggles at that, leaning her head onto the top of yours and cuddling you closer. “Sorry, Y/N. That sucks,” she says, knowing that you don’t need her to go into a lecture or give you any advice, that cuddling will suffice. “I saw you bought groceries, though. Thank you for doing that, especially when you were tired and pissed off.”

“That’s alright, the shop was on my way home. What about you, how was the case?” You bring one of your hands up to trace patterns on her bicep, relishing the strength under her soft skin.

She groans slightly. “It was alright, I guess. We’ve certainly had worse, it was just long , and I missed you very much since we couldn’t call as often as usual. I’m just glad it’s over and I’m back home with you.”

“Me too,” you say, smiling again as she gives you another squeeze.

“Hey, I do have something to ask you,” she says after a few moments of comfortable silence, voice a little hesitant.

“Yeah?” you ask encouragingly, continuing your light touches over her upper arm.

“I was wondering,” she starts, “if you’d like to finally meet the team?”

Your moving finger pauses for a moment, shocked. “Really?” you ask incredulously. Emily had always wanted to keep her work and home life separate, and beyond telling JJ and Penelope that she was seeing someone, she’d said nothing about you to her colleagues.

“Yeah,” she says. “I’ve just been thinking. I’ve tried so long to think of the BAU as strictly my coworkers, but really they’re my family. I mean I regularly have sleepovers with the girls and think of Morgan as a brother, Spencer even more so, especially since we can empathise with one another’s sexuality struggles. Hotch and Rossi, even, I’m closer to them than my parents, and keeping you separate from that doesn’t feel right anymore.”

You smile slightly. You were wondering how long it was going to take her to figure that out. “I’d love to, babe, you know that.”

“Yeah?” she asks, clearly pleased. “Rossi is hosting a family night at his place next weekend and he’s said SOs are invited, though Will can’t make it so I’m not sure if anyone else will be coming.”

“Have you… told them?”

“That I’m a lesbian or that I’m dating you?” she clarifies.

“Both.”

“Not… technically,” she says slowly. “The girls know I’m gay, as does Spencer, and I’m sure the rest of guys have picked up on the hints I’ve dropped. It’s not like I’ve tried to hide it and I work with profilers. But I haven’t told them I’m dating you, just because I like my privacy and… I guess my work, even my teammates, signify so much bad stuff, and protecting you is my job.” She leans down to press a kiss to your forehead, brushing your temples with her fingertips. “Now though, I’ve realised I can still protect you and share your beautiful self with my team.”

“I understand, Em,” you smile up at her. “You don’t have to justify yourself to me.”

“I know, but it feels nice to explain and work through my own thoughts,” she reasons, still gently running her fingers along your side. “But next weekend? Rossi’s?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

★

Although you try to hide it from your girlfriend, you are absolutely bricking it. The team means so much to Emily, you’ve known that for pretty much as long as you’ve been together, and you’re terrified that they won’t like you. You know they’re extremely protective of each other, and although Emily’s always been your protector, you’re worried that you won’t meet everyone else’s standards. It’s not like she’ll break up with you if you don’t all immediately hit it off, you don’t think that low of her, but you know it could cause an issue, start a rift between the two of you, and it’s nerve wracking.

You’re also going into a tight knit group of people who trust one another with their lives as a complete outsider, arguably not a strong position. Your hand shakes a little as you apply the final coat of mascara, nervous thoughts really getting to you.

“Nearly ready to go, baby?” Emily asks brightly as she walks into your bedroom from where she’s been sorting her hair out in the bathroom.

You take a deep, shuddering breath and put the mascara away, sitting back and looking at yourself in the mirror. You brush a fly away hair back into place and brush a stray eyelash away from your cheekbone before finally looking Emily in the eye. “Think so,” you say, giving her a tight smile.

“Well,” she says, coming up behind you at the dressing table and wrapping her arms around your front, bending slightly to rest her chin on top of your head, “you look absolutely beautiful.”

Melting a little at the affection, you send a much more genuine smile back at her in the mirror. “As do you, babe. You know that top is my favourite on you.”

She smiles, pulling away from you to give you a full twirl, making you laugh. “I know. That’s why I chose it. Just like you choosing this gorgeous blue little number knowing damn well all I’m going to be thinking about all evening is taking it off later.” She winks at you in the mirror, coming back to stand behind you as you giggle at her.

“Have to look my best,” you say, only half joking.

Emily picks up on your hesitation, of course. “Oh, sweetheart, you don’t have to be worried. They’re going to love you, and if they don’t then they’re thick in the head and Hotch should fire them all for poor judgement.”

Looking down at your painted nails in your lap, you sigh. “Sorry, I just… these people are your family, and of course I want them to like me,” you say quietly. “I think I was less nervous meeting your actual mother.”

Prentiss lets out a short laugh, raising an eyebrow. “Well these lot are much less intimidating,” she says gently. “Come on, you. Let’s get going.”

They get there late as planned, Emily knowing that you would feel more comfortable meeting everyone at once rather than having to wait, stewing in anxiety, to meet each person as they come to the door at unspecified times. “You did tell them I’m coming, right?” you ask, tummy rolling as you hold Emily’s hand tightly, approaching the front door.

“I told them I was bringing my partner,” she reassures you, not for the first time. “Pen and JJ are chomping at the bit to meet you and everyone else looked excited, too, okay? It will be fine, I promise you.”

“You’re not supposed to promise things you’re not sure you can deliver on,” you mutter. “Don’t they teach you that at FBI school.”

“Academy, you mean,” Emily chuckles, knocking on the door.

You clumsily wave your free hand in dismissal, tightening your hold on the one in Emily’s. “Same thing,” you say, trying to sound nonchalant but failing miserably.

The door swings open before you can reply and Rossi is standing there, wine glass in hand as he opens his arms wide. “Emily,” he cheers, clearly already a little bit tipsy. He leans over to give her a kiss on the cheek as he ushers them in.

“Rossi,” she says warmly. “This is Y/N, my girlfriend.” She beams at you with pride as you press yourself closer to her, desperate to anchor yourself in such an uncertain situation.

“Hi,” you wave, shyly.

“Ahh, Y/N,” he grins, smiling as warmly as Emily. “It’s so great to finally meet you. I’d say we’ve heard so much about you but that would be plainly untrue.” He pretends to glare at Emily before directing his happy gaze back to you.

“She does like to keep me tucked away,” you giggle, looking up at Emily as you start to relax.

“Hush you two,” Emily teases. “You’d better not turn them against me.” She nudges your side as you follow Rossi through his gorgeous house into the large kitchen/dining area where the rest of the team are.

“Are you alright, baby?” she says quietly, just for you.

Your answering nod makes her ease a bit of tension you didn’t realise she was holding, and she slips her hand out of yours only to wrap it loosely around your waist, knowing that the solid weight and closeness to her will make you feel even safer.

“Hey guys,” she says as they enter the kitchen and everyone turns to greet the two of you.

A woman who you immediately recognises as Penelope runs up to meet you, awe in her eyes as she takes you in. “Oh my God, it’s finally happening, I don’t even know your name but I already love you so much!” she fawns, gripping your upper arms with her hands as you reflexively do the same. “You are so beautiful, I can’t believe Emily has hidden you from us this whole time.”

“I’m assuming you’re Penelope?” you ask, giggling shyly at the onslaught of immediate love, refusing to meet Emily’s I told you so glare you can feel burning into you. “I’m Y/N, it’s so good to finally meet you.”

“I’m sorry.” A blonde woman who you recognise as JJ comes up to pull Penelope away from where she’s brushing through your hair with her fingers. “She’s already had a bit to drink. I’m JJ, it’s so nice to finally meet you, Y/N.” She leans in to give you a quick hug which you gladly reciprocate, feeling safe in her warm embrace.

“Nice to meet you too,” you smile, edging back into Emily’s grip where Penelope and JJ had pulled you away slightly. “I’ve wanted to meet you for so long, I’m happy Emily finally came around to the idea.” You’re teasing a little, but the fond look in Emily’s eyes tells you she’s on board.

Hotch and Morgan come up to greet you in slightly less invasive ways, Hotch opting for a handshake and Morgan for a quick kiss on the cheek, both smiling at you in the same manner everyone else has. Spencer, though, opts for a hug, which Emily later tells you is a big deal, and tells you how wonderful it is to meet you. “How on earth did Emily manage to pull you?” he jokes, to which Morgan fist bumps him and Emily swats the both of them as you stifle another giggle.

“Don’t worry, Em, I still think you’re the most gorgeous person ever ,” you say, fawning up at her. Emily can’t be blamed for her actions when you look at her like that, so she leans down to plant a firm kiss on your lips, making everyone ‘aww’ at the two of you.

“I think I remember telling you not to turn them against me,” Emily teases again. “But I’m glad you’re still on my side.”

“Always,” you promise as everyone starts to disperse, going to sit around the table as Rossi introduces the pasta dish he’s cooked.

It’s still a little intimidating standing in a room full of FBI agents. Your job is nowhere near as heroic or dangerous and you feel small surrounded by such strong and powerful people, but the love in the room feels palpable. Emily keeps you attached to her side all night, always touching you in some way to make sure you feel safe and anchored in such a new environment.

Penelope, JJ, and Spencer don’t let up on the questioning all night, desperate to know every single thing about both you and Emily before it’s time to go home, making you feel included. “I want to know everything like everything like absolutely eeeeverything…” Penelope asks, as she pointedly takes the seat the other side of you.

“I, however, do not,” Rossi laughs as you blush furiously, comforted only by Emily’s hand on your thigh. Hotch agrees with Rossi while everyone else looks vaguely in agreement with Penelope, even if they’re trying as hard as they can to pretend they’re not.

Emily laughs confidently, and you’re caught up again in how beautiful she is. “We’ll save that for a girls’ night, I think.”

“Am I invited?” Spencer asks innocently.

Emily just rolls her eyes. “Of course you are, genius,” she says, kicking him under the table. Y/N doesn’t miss the small ‘yesss’ he lets out under his breath at that, making her smile fondly.

“Am I invited?” Morgan asks cheekily, waggling his eyebrows.

“Absolutely not,” Emily scoffs, rolling her eyes again. “I can’t reach him under the table, Spencer you kick him.” To which Spencer obliges, making everyone laugh as Morgan punches him lightly on the arm. It’s like watching a family dinner, you think as everyone tucks in, chatter loud and rambunctious, everyone taking turns telling stories and jokes with not a single person left out.

The team embrace you with open arms, thoroughly enjoying the story of how you met and surprised to hear that you’d already moved in together -- with the exception of a few -- but everyone clearly sees how in love the two of you are and you leave Rossi’s with a warm belly and a happy smile. Hugging everyone goodbye feels sad, but you’re happy in the knowledge that you’re invited to the next girls plus Spencer night, and that Rossi has already made you promise to come to the next pasta and wine party he hosts.

As you giggle walking back to the car with the chorus of ‘Bye Y/N!’s and ‘Don’t let her go Emily!’s behind you, Emily pulls you closer, kissing you on the cheek as you press yourselves as close together as you can while on the move. “What did I tell you?” she asks you, teasingly close to the shell of your ear.

“Fine,” you concede, not very upset about it at all. “You were right.”

“I’d like that in writing please,” she says triumphantly as you arrive at the car. She unlocks it and gives you one last kiss on the lips before you part to get in, looking at you sincerely and gripping your face with both her hands. “I’m just glad they saw how absolutely lucky I am to have found you.”

(Keep an eye out for the smutty Emily x Reader fic coming out soon...)

[thewildomega]

Star in the Sand Ch.23

Sitting on one of the rocks you winced as Chopper treated your injuries, letting out a deep breath as he cleaned the one slice on your shoulder. 

"...You need to be more careful Y/n..." 

Grinning slightly at the reindeer you nodded, "Yes doc." He had already checked on your baby, assuring you and Crocodile, who had not left your side that your little one's heart was still beating strongly. 

As soon as the animal doctor had finished treating his little star he had requested a word with him. While he didn't normally care if people feared him this time he tried to sound a little more reasonable so that the 'Chopper' would agree to tell him everything he needed to know about the health of his soulmate and unborn child. When he nodded his head he kissed the crown of his darling's head and looked into her eyes. "You stay right here and rest while I speak to the... doctor." he told her in a firm voice, removing his coat once again and placing it over her thinly clothed body to keep her warm. Seeing her nod tiredly he looked to Daz and Bentham. "Don't let her out of your sight." 

"Of course Mr. Zero." Bentham smiled as the ever imposing man turned away. Looking to his old co-worker he smiled even larger and clung to his arms for a moment before doing a spin, "It's it exciting Mr. One, We are going to be uncles!"

Giggling as both Daz and Croc rolled their eyes you looked down to your belly and rubbed it gently. You couldn't think to describe the weight that had been lifted from your shoulders nor the dark cloud that seemed to disappear now that you were back with your soulmate again. Your child would have their father in their life, they would have a family, looking up at the straw-hats you smiled softly to yourself, and plenty of friends as well. 

"So you are the granddaughter of Big Mom and Kaido huh?" 

Snapping your head to the side you saw none other than Law come walking over to you. Blinking you looked the man over, his voice and whole demeanor was everything you thought it would be. "So I've been told." 

"That means that the child growing inside of you is also of their bloodline. Anyone that has anything to do with Kiado is my enemy. "

Noticing that the name of your Grandparents had caused heads to turn your way you licked your lips before looking back to the warlord. "I have no ties to either of them beyond blood. As far as I'm concerned all the family I have is here with me now." 

Finishing up his conversation with the blue nosed Reindeer he turned back to see Trafalgar Law standing close by Y/n. In a flash he was materializing in front of her, staring down the man. "Do you have a problem Law?"

"He won't stop coming for you, he knows you exist now, both of them do. Sooner or later you will have to make a choice." Law spoke, continuing to address the woman behind the famous Crocodile. 

"I've already made my choice." 

Hearing this he nodded and looked o Crocodile now, "Doflamingo will no doubt be coming here himself, I would make sure she was far away by the time he gets here."  was all he said before turning around and walking away. 

Glaring at the man's back for sometime he finally turned to looked down at his woman as he stepped over to her. Stroking the side of her face with his hook he saw her smile lovingly up at him. 

"Y/n princess I cooked you some delectable food packed full of proteins and vitamins." Sanji spoke. 

"And I brewed you some lavender green tea with a hint of honey, just like you like it." Brook added, rushing over to hand the woman the steaming cup of tea. 

"Yeah well I made her favorite vegetables as a side..."

"You are trying to win her over with vegetables, Who does that?!" 

"I don't have to win her over, when it comes down to you and me there isn't even a competition."

"Yeah that's because she would pick me!"

Noticing Crocodile's lip twitch and seeing the vein in his forehead poke out you grinned slightly and grabbed his hand before he could use it to make both of your friends a pile of dust. After eating all of our food you were left even more exhausted than you were before. You had tried to stop halfway but Crocodile quickly told you to finish eating. As it came time to say goodbye you quickly gave your gator a pout and your best puppy dog eyes before he growled out and gave a small roll of his eyes. 

"Bentham. " he called out, noticing Daz shaking his head from behind the flamboyant man. "...you are coming as well, I at least know you will help keep an eye on her." he spoke and saw Daz's shoulders drop in defeat. 

"Of course Mr. Zero! I shall protect Y/n and little Croc with my life." Bentham declared with a over the top bow. 

Smiling you hugged Crocodile's waist, feeling his hand rub your back. Looking to the Straw-hats you glanced up to Croc before moving over to your friends. Standing in front of all of them you smiled, "I don't know how to thank you all, I wish I had something to give you or... or something..."

"Don't mention it Y/n. We're friends right? That means we help each other." Luffy smiled and everyone else nodded in agreement. Although you coudl always name the baby after me..."

"Not a chance in hell." Crocodile grunted as he moved over to stand by his love. 

Chuckling Luffy rubbed the back of his head. "Worth a shot." 

"Here's your bag, I put the gift from Neptune in there as well."

Nami told you, handing over the small bag with the little bit of clothes she had bought you and some other things it looked like. 

"There some other stuff as well, thought you might want something to remember us by." 

"Oh yeah..." Taking off his hat Luffy ripped off a piece of paper and handed it over to his friend. "Here's my vivre card, that way you can come see us and we can meet little Luffy."

Hearing Crocodile growl you grinned and took the card from him. "Thank you Luffy, for everything." 

Smiling he placed his hat back on his head. "Maybe next time we are together you can make that one dish as a thank you... you know the one with the meat and sauce and cheese..."

"Lasagna." you smiled.

"Yea that one." 

Nodding you looked to the captain. "It's a deal, until then though I did make you something." seeing his confusion you smiled softly and tilted your head. "It's in your locker. I didn't really have all the details but maybe it will suffice." 

Smiling he perked up. "Really?! Is it food? Is it meat?" 

Giggling you looked to him, "I guess you'll just have to see." 

"All Right! Oooo I hope it's those cookies with the nuts and..."

Watching hi run towards the ship you smiled. "Bye Luffy!" 

"See you later Y/n... you too Gator!" Luffy yelled back.

Finishing telling everyone else goodbye you were lifted up into Crocodile's arms as he carried you back to the ship. Looking at all the familiar faces you smiled softy, especially when you saw Maverick smiling largely at you. 

"Good ta 'ave ya back lass." the old man spoke in his thick accent. 

"Alright get us off this block of ice." Crocodile spoke, giving the command to set sail. Going to take his darling into the cabin he stopped when he heard a loud yell. 

""Y/N!!!" 

Turning back when he heard the Straw-hat yelling Y/n's name he watched as an arm stretched over to the railing beside them. As the boy was pulled over to his ship he watched as he instantly wrapped his arms around y/n in a hug. He was about to step over and yank the his off but stopped when he noticed the few tears rolling down his cheeks and the picture frame in his hand. Glancing to the picture inside he saw a drawing of what looked to be three young boys. 

"Thank you." Luffy said in a thick voice. 

Smiling you hugged him back "Don't mention it." you spoke, repeating his words. As he pulled back you gave him one last smile that he returned. 

"Don't you worry Y/n I'm going to take down Kaido and then Big Mom then there won't be anyone that wants to hurt you or your baby." 

Giggling you nodded. "I'll hold you to that." 

................................

Standing behind her in the shower he felt his cock harden but grit his teeth, now was not the time. Watching some of the water running down her body and down the drain he noticed the slight pinkish tint and swallowed hard. He knew she was tired, both her injuries and everything else taking their toll on her. Seeing her leaning against the wall he stepped up behind her and let his eyes take her in. It had been six months since he had last seen his soulmate. She was skinnier than when they had been separated, not as thin as she was when she had first joined up with the straw-hats though according to the doctor. Noticing the light scar running down her back from shoulder to the top of her left ass cheek he furrowed his brows, that was new. Lifting his hand he gently traced the thin mark with his thumb. As if knowing what he was thinking she spoke in a quiet whisper. 

"Wouldn't hand over my locket." 

A whip then. Clenching his teeth he took a deep breath before leaning down to kiss the scar. From what Chopper had told him her shoulder and forearm had been broken while she was imprisoned, neither of them healing right which now caused her slight pain occasionally. She had been subjected to the cold for months, her body would be sensitive to the cold now for the rest of her life. Basically starved she had lost a tremendous amount of weight, both her and their child now requiring extra proteins and vitamins. The reindeer had also told him that their child would likely be born smaller than it should be, that it would be underweight for a while. Chopper had spoken to him about many things he coudl do and he planned on seeing them through. He would care for her, massage her, keep her warm and feed the best of food. She would rest, grow their child while her own body healed.

The small creature's words rung in his head, making true fear fill him. "If she was to give birth now, in the state she is, she might not live through the birth." 

He couldn't loose her, he wouldn't loose her, not again. Or their child. No he would make sure to take the very best care of them both. 

Pouring some of the shampoo into her hair he placed the bottle back up before he started washing her hair. It wasn't an easy task, not with only one hand but when she went to take over he grabbed her wrist in a gentle grip and move it back to her side. Carefully he started washing her hair that was now longer than when they had last seen each other. He made sure to get as little soap in the fresh injuries on her shoulder and palms as he next started washing her body. Turning her towards him he saw a bruise forming on the side of her face, going up her temple before disappearing into her hair. Why was it she seemed to always be hurt one way or another. How he grew tired of seeing her beautiful body littered in bruises and blood. Glancing down to her breasts and slightly swollen stomach he again felt his arousal spike but pushed it away and finished bathing her. "Go get into bed little star." he told her, placing a kiss to her forehead. 

Drying off you moved into the cabin and pulled on one of his shirts, leaving it only partially buttoned as you crawled into the large bed. Snuggling down into the comfy bed you sighed as his scent overtook you. Closing your eyes you turned your nose to the pillow and listened as he showered himself. By the time he was out you assumed you must have drifted off the movement of the bed starling you.

"It's alright." he spoke n his deep voice, moving to lay down beside her. Opening his arms for her as she moved to cuddle up to him he grinned softly, his eyes closing.

Cuddling up to him you felt his strong arms wrap around you, felt his one hand rub your back under his shirt. Hearing the sound of his heart made it all real, you were so afraid you would wake up and all of this would have been a dream, that you would still be slowly freezing and starving to death in Impale Down. As his lips softly pecked your head you nuzzled deeper into his chest, your eyes filling with tears and your lip trembling.

Hearing her sniffle and feeling the his chest become damp with her tears he continued rubbing her back while his left arm pulled her closer if it was possible. "Why are you crying little star?" he asked in a low voice.

"I'm scared your going to disappear again... that I'm going to wake up and you'll be gone." you whimpered.

"I'm not going anywhere darling." he promised her. Rubbing his hand around to her belly he stroked over the bump there. "I don't know how you did it, how you kept our child alive in that hell, how you even managed to stay alive yourself. You were there longer than I was and still.... everyday I woke up and expected to feel that emptiness take over, for you to have..." he couldn't even finish. Swallowing thickly he continued stroking her belly and side. "I am so sorry starlight..."

"Croc..."

"No, I need to say this." he told her and heard her become quiet. Taking a deep breath he started again, "I failed you yet again. It seems that is all I ever do, that I am unable to protect you. You are my soulmate, it is my responsibility to care for you... Not a day went by that I didn't think of you, that I didn't miss you. You don't know how worthless I felt knowing that the woman I love, the mother of my child was sentenced to that place."

It was strange hearing Crocodile become so emotional, something he always kept locked away but you wouldn't say a word. His hand stayed on your belly, stroking your skin softly.

Taking another breath he kissed gently at her forehead again. "When I got your letter I at first thought it was some trick, that someone was playing some cruel joke on me, I didn't want to believe it because I was so afraid of it being false but it wasn't." smiling a little he continued holding her close. "All the horrible things I've done in my life I can't imagine why fate took mercy on me but I will be forever grateful to have you in my arms again. I may very well never let you leave my side again." Feeling a light kiss to his throat he hummed. 

The both of you stayed silent for a while, just basking in one another's embrace before he spoke again. 

"Darling..." hearing her sleepy hum he continued rubbing her head and hair. "Earlier with Law, you told him you had already made your choice what did you mean by that?"

"You, I choose you Croc. I will never join Big Mom or Kaido because even though they are blood you are my family. You, me and our little Caiman." 

Feeling his lips turn up into a smile he moved his hand to turn her chin up towards him so he could press his lips to hers. It was a long, slow kiss, there was no desire to take it further they were just simply expressing how much they had missed one another, how much they loved one another. When it came time to breath he pulled away but kept her chin tilted so he coudl look into her alluring eyes that he adored so much. "You believe it's a boy then, that we will have a son?" he asked, the soft smile staying on his face. 

Nodding lightly you saw his eyes twinkle a little. Rubbing his bare chest you grinned softly and turned some to lay a bit more on your back but still enough to stay in his arms and look up at him. "A son just as handsome as his father and probably just as cunning."

Chuckling he moved his hand to unbutton the few buttons she had holding the shirt on her small frame. "A little boy with his mother's stunning eyes and temper." 

Giggling you sighed as he rubbed your belly, "I don't think this world knows what it's got coming." you told him and heard him let out a small laugh. As his hand passed over your lower abdomen you felt a strange sensation and flinched, your eyes snapping down to your belly. 

"Was tha..." another jolt hit the palm of his hand and he stared down at her stomach in awe. Grinning he rubbed his hand again slowly and felt his child kick at his hand. 

"He knows we're talking about him." you smiled. "That's the first time I've ever felt him move." 

Humming he smiled and looked back to her, "See he is already a daddy's boy."

Rolling your eyes some you smiled and reached up to stroke his jaw. You stared at his face until your eyes became to heavy to hold open. 

Feeling her hand fall against his shoulder he looked back to her and saw her sleeping peacefully, a soft smile on her face. Grinning he pulled he blanket back over them and settled down beside her, placing a kiss to her temple. "Sweet dreams little star. I love you..." Feeling another hard kick to his hand he smirked, "And you, my son." he spoke in a low deep voice before joining her in the first peaceful sleep in months. 

...........................................

He could only grin a little as she looked around confused but he didn't say a word. Keeping her tucked close to his side he led her down the correct street, thankful it was nighttime so not many people were out. As they came up on the home he saw her brows knit a little before she again looked to him. Paying her no mind he walked up to the front door and glanced down to her before opening it and smiling softly, "Welcome home darling."

Blinking your eyes went a bit wide and you looked back towards the large home that was more like a mansion before snapping your eyes back up to him. 

Seeing shock on her face he chuckled some and led her inside, shutting the door behind them and locking it.  Removing his coat from her shoulders he hung it on the coat rack and continued watching her as she just stood there looking around but not moving. Sighing softly he took her hand and moved her throughout the place. "I settled on this island a few months ago, took over the black market position here."

"Took over?" you asked but saw him raise a brow. "Never mind I probably don't want to know." 

Humming he grinned and showed her room after room. "Truthfully there are more rooms than I know what to do with but at least now we will have a room for the baby." he said and saw her smile sweetly up at him. "You are free to decorate it however you please and anything you need you let me know and I will see you get it." 

Smiling you leaned into his side. Ever since the other night when he had felt the baby kick he had seemed rather thrilled of the idea that he was going to be a father. Daz who you had spoken to when Croc had to talk with Bon on something said that it was likely that Crocodile had feared he would never see you alive again, that he would never get o meet his child but now that the both of you were reunited he wasn't taking it for granted. 

"This is the kitchen, although I did have chiefs cook for me I was quite fond of your cooking and perhaps if you are willing and up to it we may share one of your delectable meals again." Seeing her nod quickly and smile he grinned but then thought of something. "I don't want you pushing yourself though, if you do not feel like it or you are too tired then I will get the cooks to make you whatever it is you want." 

Next he showed you the two living room, the courtyard that had soft green grass and a few trees. Croc had quickly led you to one of the small plants and pointed out that it was your apple tree that you had sprouted on the ship. He told you how you were free to garden all you wanted. After that was the spare rooms, his office that homed many books. You could only smile like a child in a candy shop as you looked over all the books, not knowing he was watching you smiling. 

At the end of the tour he led her down the hall to the large wooden door, opening it he checked it over for safety before turning on the lights and stepping to the side to allow her in. "And this is our room." 

Walking inside you looked around the large room. There was the massive canopy bed in the center of the room with a matching dresser and side table on each side. A little sitting area was in the right corner with what looked to be a private door to the courtyard behind it. On the other side of the room was two more doors, closet and on suit most likely. The bedding and chairs were all done in a grey color that complimented the dark wood. "It's beautiful, all of it." you told him, turning to face him as he came to stand beside you. 

Grinning he looked down at her, stroking her lightening bruised cheek with his knuckles. "I am glad you like it." Feeling that spark of arousal he swallowed and cleared his throat. "Come let me show you to the bathroom, I am sure you like a shower before bed." 

The bathroom was no less grand than the bedroom or rest of the house for that matter. A huge soaking tub that would fit you, croc and probably another person set in one corner with a equally large walk in shower on the other. Crocodile had quickly started the shower for you, adjusting the temperature before saying he wanted to check something, asking you if there was anything you wanted or needed before he left you to bathe. You found it strange that he seemed to always have something to do anytime you needed to be naked. That over emotional side of you kept saying it was something with the way you looked now, maybe you were no longer attractive to him. While you tried to see reason you couldn't help but be hurt a little.

Removing your clothes and then the bandages you glanced up to the mirror and looked over your body. Bruises spotted your skin along with the healing sword slash across your shoulder. Injuries were here and there and you felt your lip twitch as your eyes moved to your breasts. They were still much smaller than when you had first went into Impale Down. Looking down to your small baby bump you sighed and rubbed your abdomen. 

Taking a long shower you got out feeling much more refreshed than you had before. Drying off something caught your eye and you grinned when you noticed your silk pajama set folded on the bathroom counter. You were sure they weren't here before, he must have brought them in. Pulling on the shorts and shirt you brushed your hair and teeth before walking out to the room. Seeing Crocodile sitting in one of the chairs you moved over to him and curled up in his lap when he held his arm out. Humming you grinned and nuzzled into his neck. 

Grinning himself he wrapped his arm around her, kissing her head. "I missed this." 

"Me too." you told him, closing your eyes as his warm calloused hand rubbed your thigh. 

Closing his eyes as his hand creased her soft skin he adjusted his legs as his pants grew tighter. Damn he wanted her, he craved her, so much it was taking everything he had to keep from carrying her over to the bed and taking her like the deprived man he was. He should have made her wear the pants. Not that it would have done any good. She coudl probably be wearing a burlap bag and he would still feel as horney as a teenage boy. He had to wait though, wait until she was healed. It had been six months and his body was aching for her but he wouldn't risk hurting her or his child. No he would just have to resist. Glancing around the room he saw her bag sitting on the table and rose a brow, a distraction is what he needed. "The Straw-hat woman, Cat burglar Nami I believe her name is, she mentioned something about packing you other things she thought you might want, what s it?" 

Sitting up you smiled and grabbed the bag from the table, not realizing your dear Gator was staring at your backside, his hand trembling as he resisted grabbing it. Sitting back on his lap you felt him move your legs to rest over his other knee as you started picking out items to show him. "Pappag gave me these, well more like Nami talked him into letting them get anything they wanted." you smiled. 

Glancing over the clothes as she pulled them out of the bag he saw she had a pair of shorts, a t-shirt with a star on it and the word 'Crimin' on it along with a black two piece bathing suit with the same design on one of the cups. Humming he rose a brow and leaned back some. "And who is this Pappag?"

"Oh he's a starfish that designs clothes. He's a really big deal on Fishman Island." 

"A starfish." he asked and saw her nod. Grunting he listened as she told him about her time in Fishman Island with the Straw-hats. He had been surprised to find out that Jinbe and her father had been friends. While he didn't much care for the shark he was grateful for him helping his love send him the letter. Next he watched her show him the music box that King Neptune had gifted their child. As he listened to the soft tune he couldn't help but grin a little at the soft smile on her face as she talked about how they coudl play it to help their little Caiman go to sleep. When he saw her face light up he watched as she pulled out tangerines. 

Looking to him you grinned, "Your child seems to like fruit just as much as you." Thinking of something you tilted your head. "You know these are from a tree Nami brought on the ship with her, from Conomi Islands, your home." 

Raising both of his brows at that he looked to the fruit as she peeled it. 

Taking one of the sections into your mouth you grinned and held another to his lips. As he parted his lips you placed the piece on his tongue and saw the corner of his lip turn up as he ate it making you smile. 

"Still the best tangerines in the world." he said and saw her smile before offering him another. 

For the next few minutes the two of you sat in the chair talking and snacking on a few more tangerines. You were quick to save the seeds, hoping to grow a tree of your own. Soon however though you were covering a yawn and he was standing. 

Carrying her over to the bed he pulled back the covers and laid her down. He coudl tell she was sleepy based on how heavy her lids hung over her eyes. Tucking her in he kissed her brow before going to take a shower himself but only after making sure both the balcony door and bedroom door were locked. Getting out he glanced over to her sleeping form and sighed at the feeling. Quietly moving over to the dresser he pulled on a pair of pajama pants while staring at the neatly folded scarfs beside it. Reaching under them he grabbed the small velvet box hidden underneath and pulled it out. Flipping it open he stared down at the ring he had picked out over six months ago. It was beautifully crafted, only the best for his little star. The plan had been to give it to her that night in the hotel after they ate dinner but then she had felt ill and then that Charlotte had shown up. The whole night he had planed out had been ruined in an instant. Raising his chin he closed the box. This time everything would go right. Placing it back under the scarfs he closed the drawer, hiding it away for only a few days more. 

[witchersgoldenbard]

Bards are Meant to Love (not to cook, honestly)

The Prompt: "You remembered my favourite food" and "I've missed you so much" with kisses accompanied by happy tears

read on ao3 (~1.8k words)

“Agh, bollocks!”

Listen, Jaskier is struggling. There are way too many pots and pans to manoeuvre, too many instructions on the sheet in front of him, and simply no instinct on his part when it comes to cooking. Seriously, the best thing he can do with a fork is bury it in the hand of some loud-mouthed dickhead who dares to talk shit about Witchers. And even so, that is a far safer use for a fork around him than in an actual kitchen.

And yet, here he is.

In a kitchen.

Cooking.

Because Geralt is coming back.

Finally, finally coming back! The mere thought of it makes his hands shake and his heart flutter, the air in his lungs briefly replaced by something way more dizzying.

Because Geralt is coming back.

Home. To him.

The least he can do, the very fucking least, is cook his favourite meal. Gods, he sure hopes it’s not gonna be as terrible as the last couple of times he practiced this. But the scribbled and scratched notes he added to the recipe, perfecting it, should do the deal this time. They are necessary, because apparently the professionals who composed it did not account for the sheer chaos that is Jaskier. If you want something done right, you gotta do it yourself!

“Aw, fuck you!” he tells one of the pots as it gleefully, spitefully, spills its contents all over the stove. Who thought that this was a good idea again? Oh, right. This dumbass with a nationwide, nay, Continent-wide reputation of being chaotic. Great. Yeah. Right. What could possibly go wrong?

Turns out, everything can go wrong.

And Jaskier is struggling.

Somehow, miraculously, it doesn’t even taste shit. The main course is a rather simple meatloaf, a giant thing to suit Geralt’s Witcher metabolism, and seasoned exactly the way Geralt prefers. Not the bland shit you get in the taverns, Jaskier has class!

It’s the extras that make it special, that make it Geralt’s favourite. And they don’t suck yet, he has somehow managed to not overcook or oversalt them.

He barely doesn’t even dare to touch any of the pots and pans at this point, afraid to ruin something at the last minute.

Because it would not be salvageable. The sun is already setting, painting the sky a beautiful shade of pink and gold, and Jaskier takes a second to stare. Just a second, though, because, see, technically he is still busy struggling.

He wipes sweat from his forehead and groans in despair. Cooking sure is not worth all the sweat, all the stress, all the freaking out and headache, especially as the process of actually eating the meal is only a manner of mere minutes.

Now there’s a contrast for you! Jaskier has vowed to always leave a special tip for cooks that manage to produce decent food from now on. Well, when there is coin to spare. Oh, well. Maybe a compliment will have to suffice.

He sure would appreciate a compliment right now, that much is clear!

But then, sooner than anticipated, he’s… he’s done! The food seems to be pretty decent, it looks and smells better than shit – which, well, improvement on his part. And he is really proud of himself.

Now that this is out of the way, though, Jaskier has time to indulge his fluttering heart at the thought of presenting all of this to Geralt. He leaves the food on the stove to keep it warm until his dear heart arrives home, while he goes to change out of his sweaty clothes.

A few minutes later find him touching up the bouquet of flowers he put in a vase on the table. Geralt doesn’t care much about them, he knows, but he also knows that, secretly, he very well does. Not that the Witcher would ever admit to it. With a smile, Jaskier leans in and takes in a deep breath of fresh, sweet aroma.

The table is set, the food keeping warm, and Jaskier has trouble keeping calm. But why keep calm when his heart is positively beating out of his chest with the very beat that belongs only to Geralt? It’s a wonderful thing, to feel it again. To be as nervous as he was on the first day.

To see Geralt again after all this time. He cannot help but smile and let his heart beat wildly in anticipation, in excitement, in love.

He loses himself in that love for a moment – or, well, maybe a moment more – and jumps when he hears the front door falling shut. Mere seconds later, arms are wrapped around his waist from behind in a most gentle but firm way, and suddenly Jaskier finds himself all wrapped up in his Witcher.

“Hello, dear heart,” he whispers, leaning into the embrace as Geralt presses his forehead into the crook of Jaskier’s neck. And just like that, the stress of the day, the trouble, the entirely too exorbitant struggle of actually making food… everything is forgotten.

Because Geralt is home. In his arms – or rather, Jaskier is in his arms. Which is even better.

“Hmm,” the Witcher grunts, and Jaskier chuckles in delight, turning around in his love’s strong arms.

He runs his fingers through Geralt’s hair, the white locks in desperate need of a wash and proper care. Gods, Melitele’s tits, has he missed this man. What he feels for Geralt is so strong, so all-encompassing that he can’t even put it into words. None would suffice.

So, instead, he smiles at him and leans in, placing a sweet, tender kiss on the man’s lips, humming when he feels them curve up into a smile. When he pulls back, golden eyes in the softest hue are regarding him with pure, unfiltered affection.

Jaskier could come alive under those eyes, and he leans in once more. Geralt lets him, the tension of all those months apart finally seeping out of his shoulders under Jaskier’s gentle hands.

“Words overwhelming, my dear?” He knows how his Witcher gets sometimes, especially after long periods apart. The nod he gets in return, followed by a tired grunt, is answer enough. As he buries deeper into Jaskier, breathing him in, resting for a moment, Jaskier doesn’t have it in him to pull away and make him eat.

Food can wait a bit longer. First Geralt needs his cuddles. And who is Jaskier to deny him?

They stand like this for a while, holding each other, enjoying the moment, neither of them having the words to fill the silence. It’s perfect.

When Geralt moves his head to rest his chin on Jaskier’s shoulder, he takes a moment to sniff the air. Jaskier can feel his nerves return to him full blast, especially when Geralt tenses in his arms.

The Witcher pulls back and regards Jaskier with a damned unreadable expression. He meets golden eyes and wonders where he went wrong.

But Geralt’s eyes soften immediately and he’s obviously grasping for words. Jaskier smiles at him, relief filling him like the golden light of the setting sun fills the air around them.

“Hungry, my dear?” he asks, pulling back and out of Geralt’s embrace so he can get the food.

Geralt, bless his entire soul, still stands there and stares at Jaskier, the gears of his mind obviously still working, looking for words to say. It takes him until Jaskier comes back with two plates, filled to the brim with steaming, deliciously smelling varieties of food, to find his words again.

“You…” he begins, but his voice cracks and he tries again. “You remembered my favourite food.”

Now it is Jaskier’s turn to stare, because what? Of course he does! Is that what has his darling Witcher out of commission right now? Oh, this sweet, sweet man!

“Why, of course, dear heart! You would be surprised by all the things I remember. Come now, eat before it gets cold.” He sounds a lot like his mother, though his is gentler than hers could ever be.

Geralt grabs his fork and knife, but his movements are stilted and he doesn’t look away from Jaskier. Like he is trying to figure him out. Like he doesn’t already know the very depths of his heart. Jaskier lets him, doesn’t look away from this perfect, perfect man if he doesn’t have to.

“Why is this so odd to you?” he asks after a moment, wondering what moved him so.

Geralt shakes his head slightly, one shoulder lifted in a shrug, and Jaskier can see his throat working. He has never seen Geralt like this, physically lost for words. It is incredibly, impossibly endearing.

“I just—” Geralt swallows. His eyes are shining, glistening, and it’s not only from all that staring he has been doing. He shakes his head again, a minute motion, but Jaskier takes it all in. His Witcher closes his eyes, and when he opens them, there is nothing but love to be found. “I’ve missed you so much.”

The wet eyes, the hoarse voice, the unbridled affection in both, they nearly brought Jaskier to tears as well.

“I’ve missed you, too, my love. So much,” he promises, barely more than a whisper between them.

The mere thought of not kissing Geralt now, of not hugging him in favour of simply having dinner first, is appalling. It would be a waste to discard a moment such as this for nothing but food! His bardic soul, his romantic instincts forbid it!

So, still holding the shining golden eyes, Jaskier gets up and moves around the table. Geralt, bless him, gets the message and moves his chair back so Jaskier can sit in his lap.

Strong arms wind around his middle and pull him impossibly closer as Geralt nuzzles his cheek, pressing featherlight kisses to his face. Jaskier has never felt so loved as he does in this moment, and as he closes his eyes, he can feel tears coming as though they are trying to extinguish the fire in his soul, burning only for his Witcher.

But they can’t extinguish it, they only serve to make it stronger.

He turns his head towards Geralt to catch his lips in a kiss, holding him close, his hands burying themselves in the long, white hair.

Geralt kisses back, meets his passion, his affection, his love halfway. Holds him, catches him when he falls – and he does, over and over and over again does he fall for his Witcher.

“Hmm, what about the food, Jask,” Geralt tries to get in between the kisses, but it’s half-hearted at best and Jaskier chuckles, twirling Geralt’s hair around his finger.

“I’ll reheat it later,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to Geralt’s nose, his forehead, his cheek, before burying his face in the crook of his neck. “Let me have this first.”

“Have what?”

He leans back and gently strokes Geralt’s cheek, wiping away a single tear. “You, dear heart. This moment. All of it.”

“You’ve got it,” Geralt whispers. A familiar promise that never fails to make Jaskier shiver. The tears come again, but it’s okay, because Geralt’s match his own. “You’ve got it all, Jask.”

And he does. They both do.

That is all that matters.