#got really side tracked here but ig it turned out okay?

[yjhzies]

“Cheers to youth.” — YJH

⸝⸝୭ ˚. fluff . comfort . angst

⋆ pairings : jeonghan x gn!reader ⋆ warning : reader being scolded by their boss, crying (there shouldn't be any more, lmk! <3) ⋆ wc : 0.8k [✉️] · Always portrayed as "perfect" feels like a nightmare now. But with Jeonghan, everything will be fine.

⋆ - note : got scolded by the teacher for no valid reason and my inner writer came out ^^ (ty ig and welcome to depression era) | trying angst for the first time, I think I'm going insane :( stay safe jeonghannie 🌷

"Love?" Your boyfriend's voice was soft, and everything you needed to hear after a disastrous day at work.

You gripped your phone tighter and gathered the courage to respond.

"Hm, hannie,"

"Are you almost off work? Do you want me to pick you up?"

"I'm almost done with work, it's okay, I'm fine." Your voice breaks with the words 'I'm fine', because you were clearly not. But, he didn't have to know.

You, who is known as the 'Perfect' one in your workplace, were feeling like a failure. Not that you liked the way people labelled you as 'perfect', but you did want to meet the expectations of your boss. You've always had this habit - feeling the need to meet people's expectations, afraid of disappointing others. This, something you have had since school days, was becoming a nightmare.

Your boss was rumoured to have had a break up; something that is completely none of your business - you knew. So when he lashed out at you, simply because of his gloomy mood, you were in disbelief.

"I heard you've been focusing on everything except for work? I remember the time you were considered as the perfect manager, but now? I doubt that. You've been lacking behind everything. From doing the files to arranging the meetings properly. If you keep doing this, I doubt you'll be here in my company for long."

Those words haunted your mind, and it kept repeating. For no reason. You knew you did nothing wrong, you knew you were not in the wrong here.

But words hurt so much.

Especially when you're trying your best.

Especially when you feel you've done enough, and you hear this.

"Are you sure?" Jeonghan asked, worried because you have had to stay at work for long, and it was unusual.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

Silence soon followed, and you took a heavy breath to stop the tear threatening to roll down your cheeks.

"Are you really, baby?" He asked softly. As if he knew everything despite not knowing anything.

You didn't expect that question. All the tears you had held back finally escaped your glossy eyes, and you broke down. Right in the middle of a bus stand, but thankfully, no one was there.

"Baby?" Jeonghan felt a surge of panic wash over him. The sounds of your muffled sobs echoed in his ears through the phone.

The last thing Jeonghan wanted was you crying all alone.

You slowly lowered your hand, the phone in your hand dropping to the floor as you continued weeping. There was no one around to help you. To ask if you were okay.

"Please, baby," he softly pleaded. You were there alone. All by yourself. "Please answer me."

He grabbed his car keys, opened the location tracking app that you both agreed to use in emergencies and rushed out of his apartment. The drive was gonna take at least 20 minutes, but he couldn't care less.

All he knew right now was that he had to be by your side.

"I'll be there, don't worry, okay?" He tried to calm you down, despite panicking himself.

Everything faded into the background, as you finally let all the feelings burst out in the form of tears. All the taunting you had endured throughout the day was driving you insane.

It wasn't your fault. You did nothing.

You don't know when time passed by, and Jeonghan's car pulled up on the road - but you felt a hint of relief at the sight of him.

He got out of the car in a hurry, running up to the bus stop where you stood. Very slowly, you turn your gaze on him and he catches a glimpse of you - puffy eyed, cheeks red with warmth, tremors still coursing through your body, dried tears that were being replaced by fresh ones.

"Hannie..." You choked out, sobbing.

Without wasting a second, he threw his arms around your torso, engulfing you in a warm hug. He rested one of his hands on the back of your head, caressing it, as he wrapped his other arm around your waist protectively.

You've never felt so secure and safe in someone's embrace before.

You closed your eyes, placing your hands on either side of his shoulders, and began sobbing again. But this time, you knew Jeonghan was there to protect you.

"Shh, I'm here, it's all gonna be okay." His voice was barely above a whisper, as if those words were only meant to be heard by you. So soft, so loving, and it conveyed so many emotions to you.

He felt like home. Like the warm hug and kiss you crave after a long tiring day at work. Like the cold, but relaxing drop of rain on your skin.

"I'm- I'm sorry..."

"It's okay, don't be, please."

You're grateful. So grateful that you both don't have to know the reason to simply be by their side. The reason can be unknown, or known later, but what matters is that you're there for each other.

– taglist : @gyubakeries @k1eev @haowrld @armycarat2612

[check out masterlist - pinned post to be added to the taglist!]

[whumperfully]

Promised Hell: Part 2

CW: dehumanization, manhandling, tortured for information, shock collar, humiliation

Also marks off my bthb:shock collar

The click of the door lock jolted Steve back awake. The first thing that came to his mind was the burning pain in his left hand. It seemed absurd now how easily he had been able to sleep despite it.

"Good evening. I hope you slept well."

Steve craned his neck back to glare at his captor. His eyes followed them as they took their place in front of him.

"Are you hungry?"

He only hardened his glare. Of course he was hungry. He couldn't remember the last time he had eaten something good.

"I want a clear answer. Don't make this difficult for yourself--"

"What happens if I say yes?"

"You'll be given two options. You can either co-operate and receive normal food. Or, you can be fed by putting a feeding tube down your throat. Choose wisely and quickly." They took their suitcase out from below the table and placed it between them.

"And if I say no?"

"The feeding tube will be used." They shrugged nonchalantly. "They don't want you to die yet."

"They?" It could be useful to figure out who they were working for. Maybe he could bribe them or something?

"That's classified information. Now, don't try to buy time."

Steve chewed on the inside of his cheek. "What are you going to ask me today?"

"Your role in the attempted assassination. And your motive." They opened the suitcase, facing it away from him like last time.

Steve bared his teeth. "Forget it. I'm not telling you shit about that."

Eli took something out of the suitcase before closing it, secretly slipping it into their pocket. "This is your last chance for cooperation."

"Fuck you."

"I have made the necessary arrangements in another room. Come without offering any resistance or suffer the consequences." They stepped closer, producing a key from their pocket to unlock the cuffs.

Steve gently shook his hands and slowly stood up, intentionally luring them into a false sense of security. He flexed his right hand behind his back. "You won't be restraining me?"

"Not yet. Walk slowly and obediently behind me."

Steve nodded, another series of pain shooting up from his left hand feuling his anger. This could be his one and only chance. There was no way he was going to blow it.

Eli produced another key from their pocket to unlock the door.

The moment Steve heard the click of the lock, he lunged forward at his captor, pulling his right arm back for a punch.

A short sigh and Eli simply sidestepped his attack.

Steve growled, adrenaline in his veins making him lose all ability to think. He just wanted to punch their emotionless face bloody. Lunging forward once more, he aimed for their nose. He had excelled in his military training. He could do this--

Sidestepping his attack again, Eli grabbed the back of his head and shoved it towards the ground. Hard.

Instantly losing his balance, Steve landed on the ground with a hiss.

"Behave." Eli slammed their shoe in his back, painfully twisting it in his spine.

Steve growled in frustration, fruitlessly trying to get his arms out from below himself. The bastard was way stronger than they looked. Something leather slipped around his neck and his breath hitched. "What the... fuck are you doing?"

"Putting a collar around your neck to improve your behavior."

"This can't fucking be legal." He choked out, the collar now tight around his neck.

"I told you yesterday. I own you. I can do whatever I want with you. Whatever it takes to make you talk."

Steve's breath turned shallow. "No."

"I'll take it off if you tell me exactly what your role and motive--"

"No. I'm not telling you shit!" The pitch of his voice came out higher than intended.

"Get up then. Or should I force you to?" The nonchalance in their voice was starting to piss him off more and more.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" He fought against their grip.

"I'm only doing my job." They locked the collar from behind, tightening it just enough to make sure he would have to fight with it for every breath.

"Don't fucking lie to me, you sadistic bastard. You enjoy this, don't you!"

Eli paused for a moment. "I don't."

"If you feel so fucking sorry about it, then why won't you fucking let me go!" His throat felt hoarse, the collar straining his each breath.

"I don't feel sorry about it."

"Then, what the fuck do you feel?!" His throat was dry now.

"Nothing."

"Nothing?" Steve turned his neck to glare at him, disbelief evident in his eyes.

"Get up. I won't ask again." Eli stepped off of him, standing up.

"No. Not until you give me a proper answer."

"A master owes his slave nothing. I have no obligation to answer." They reached into their pocket.

His voice was a low growl. "You're not my fucking master--" A scream ripped through his throat as electricity pulsed through his veins.

As abruptly as it came, it stopped, leaving Steve panting on the floor. "What the fuck?"

"By using this remote, I can make that collar shock you. I used only the third setting and you screamed, proving to be effective." Eli talked as if they were describing the weather. "Now, get up. Or I shock you again."

"Rot in hell-- fu- uck." Steve trembled.

"Only the first setting this time. Still, it hurt, didn't it? Get up or the next shock will be on the second setting."

Steve cringed. Resisting was pointless. Even if he managed to not comply, the bastard could just drag him there--

He pressed his mouth to the ground before another sound could escape him. His muscles twitched and the pain in his hand worsened. By the time it stopped, he was covered in a layer of cold sweat.

"That was the second setting. You took it better than the first one. Still, it's only going to get worse. I suggest you--"

"Fuck! I'm getting up!" Steve snarled, getting onto his hands and knees, careful not to put too much pressure on his left.

"Stand up within five seconds or I'll make you crawl."

"One." Steve pushed himself up to his elbows.

"Two." He got his arms off the floor.

"Three." He balanced himself up on his feet.

"Four." He managed to stand up, the tiniest smirk on his lips as he looked them in the eyes. The bastard must've thought he wouldn't be able to do it--

A small sigh and Eli activated the collar again, making Steve fall back to the ground, cursing and groaning.

"What the fuck was that for, you--"

"Five. Time's up."

Steve stared up at his captor in disbelief, suddenly going quiet. "What the fuck?" His voice was barely above a whisper.

"Setting three. For looking your master in the eyes without permission." They crouched down to pat his hair. "Now, crawl."

"No."

"You're lucky you're not naked with a leash attached to your collar. Yet. I can certainly make that happen whenever I want to."

Steve lost his courage, eyes falling to the ground. "I can't."

"You know you can. It's just that you don't want to." They grabbed his hair and tugged. "I'll be nice and give you an extremely good option though. Tell me how many people you were conspiring with. That's all and I'll let you walk."

Steve blinked. No way in hell was he letting his dignity take that heavy of a blow. It was... just a tiny piece of information, wasn't it? It couldn't possibly hurt to--

"Answer before I change my mind."

Taking a deep breath, he made his decision. "Fuck you--" A scream ripped through his throat again as electricity was sent down his body once more.

"Setting three." Their voice sounded distant. "For non-cooperation and the use of profanities."

He felt the grip on his hair tighten as his chest was lifted off the ground. Soon he was being dragged across through the rough floor, still screaming.

He couldn't tell how long it took for them to drag him to the other room and throw them onto a chair, but it was certainly too much. His eyes were damp by the time the electricity finally stopped.

"Sit up on the chair before I shock you again."

Every muscle in his body screamed for mercy, violently trembling, but he knew better than to disobey. With much effort, he straightened himself, trying his best to make it as quick as possible.

As Eli tightly strapped him to the metal chair, Steve closed his eyes, letting himself go limp.

"Are you tired? But we haven't even started yet?"

[lazymfffffffffff]

Book shop meetings | T.N

Pairing: Theodore Nott x reader

A/N: Theodore nott can get it ig 🙄☝️

Books.Books.Books.

Where do you even begin with them. Books were your home,best friend and yellow. From the weird pop up books from your childhood to the small novels to spell books and then more and more novels. If anyone would ask your friends where to find you they’d point to the hogwarts library and the person who would be looking for you would find you in the corner leaning against a book shelf, with your nose buried in a book whether it be a course book or a normal novel. With your passion of books also came the love of libraries that you shared with your father so when he wanted to open a book shop in the corner of diagonally five year old you couldn’t be more excited.

So whenever you’d get a break from school you’d go work at your fathers book shop ,mostly restocking the shelves with your wand while listening to your favorite tracks. Which brings you here right now currently standing infront of your father’s book shop . It wasn’t really packed on the weekends just a small little crowd. You made your way inside the shop to the front counter where your father used to sit. “Dad I’m here.” “Over here kiddo.” Came a voice from behind the storage area. You made your way downstairs to the storage area to see your father was having a hard time carrying a stack of books . You mentally face palmed at your father’s obliviousness being a muggle obviously scared him from Wands and all sorts of magic. “ You know we use wands for a specific reason.” You said while taking your wand out of your pocket waving it and taking all the books out of your fathers hand. “ YOU use the wands I tend to stay away from these scary little things.” He replied. “ jeez.” You sighed while playfully rolling your eyes. “ ok so I need you to restock these at the back.” Your father instructed. “ yeah yeah I know.” You replied, “ WITHOUT your wand missy.” He pointed out.

You started filling the empty spaces of the shelves,while putting the books you noticed you put the wrong book in the wrong genre shelve as you were about to grab it another hand grabbed it too. You pulled it towards you and the hand pulled it back towards it self. But at last the hand was a little too strong and the book got pulled out of your hand making it hit the shelf really hard. “ Ouch!” You grunted. “Shit sorry.” The voice apologized, turns out the person was a boy. You were so mad at the dude you ran to the other side and said “ And that’s supposed to make up for your mean behavior.” As soon as you saw the boy’s face you knew who he was. THEODORE NOTT. hangs out with draco malfoy, he’s really quiet and just sits at the corner of the table. He obviously knew who you were exactly like him,kind of really pretty which made it hard for him to not fall for you, he always used to stare at you from his table but hell would break lose if you would look at him even for a little bit. “ Hi.” You greeted him awkwardly. “ Hi back.” He replied awkwardly the same way. There were a few seconds of awkward silence between you two when he broke it and said “ umm I’m really sorry about your hand I should’ve dropped the book but I really wanted it and it was my fav and I -, his babbling was cut off by you saying “ it’s o-okay Theo.” Surprised you knew his name he questioned “how did Uhh know my name?” Well fuck, now he’ll probably think you are a freak you thought. “ Umm I just know.” You replied. From the awkwardness you were about to turn back and leave when he suddenly said” if it makes you feel any better I know your name too…..Y/N.” With a little smirk on his face. The comment made you smile and out of nowhere this stupid came out of your mouth that was “ Hey! Do you maybe wanna hang out or whatever.” You questioned while fiddling with your fingers. “ yea sure or whatever.” He answered. “ cool” you commented, he replied With a cool too.

“ So I’ll see you tomorrow over here at what time again?” He asked confusingly. “ come by any time ill be here all day.” You answered. “So it’s a date Ms y/l/n.” He announced smugly. “ Maybe it is maybe it isn’t Mr. Nott.”you replied with a smirk on your own darling face.

[sukirichi]

earned it [06]

Gojo Satoru is a firm believer that if you work hard for it then you shall earn it. But on the other side, he’s not unfamiliar with his own sins. He also believes that there is punishment due for his sins as he’s earned it.

cw. attempted murder and suicide, angst ig i feel nothing at this point because NAOYA 😭

notes. i’m rolling with the earned it jokes that reader is shippable with everyone so HAH enjoy this chapter because I didn’t enjoy the last LMAO (IM SO EXCITED FOR TOJI TO APPEAR!)

series masterlist

Your muscles throbbed, the pounding of your heart felt even through your skin. You’ve spent hours in the training room, taking punch by punch, landing blow by blow – yet no matter how hard you tried, you kept falling on your ass. At this point, your backside was beyond sore, skin drenched with sweat and clothes sticking uncomfortably to the surface. Meanwhile, your ‘savior’ barely felt the need to catch his breath, instead gazing down at you with disappointment written all over his face.

“Why do you expect so much from me?” you panted, fists clenched on the mat. “Didn’t you tell me you just needed me to get your money back and that’s it? I didn’t ask for you to do anything so stop telling me I’m indebted to you all the time.”

Naoya clicked his tongue, clearly disappointed by your lack of resolve. Above you, he swept up his cane and finally balanced himself. You previously thought he didn’t struggle because he looked so calm and composed, easily overpowering you even with his injury, but his lips were strained, jaw clenched tight that perhaps he was just good at concealing his pain. It made you shut up and watch his every move; his back faced you – probably to hide whatever fleeting moment of vulnerability he had.

“I won’t always be there to save your sorry life,” he said calmly, “You need to learn how to be strong on your own no matter how tough it gets. Now if you’ll keep complaining instead of finishing your training, I could happily lock you up and force you to do my dirty work for me.”

“Then why don’t you go ahead?!”

“I don’t want to,” Naoya responded without missing a beat. He easily closed the distance with a few staggered steps, his head tilted to the side as he surveyed you.

You wondered what went through his mind. Did he see a weak woman? A woman who must be so helpless, so useless that you stayed there, legs too tired and muscles aching too much you couldn’t move? There was no telling with Naoya, and his guarded gaze didn’t help either. Satoru had always been difficult to read at most, but with Naoya – it was practically impossible.

Even as he cupped your chin and twisted it sideways, his eyes narrowed over all your features like he saw something you didn’t, he was too guarded.

“I need you in taking down Gojo Satoru. In order to accomplish that, I have to use his weakness against him. You showing up won’t be enough. No, I want to hurt him…and what better way than to take what was once his, right? Dangle right in front of his eyes what he let go of, make him regret his actions?” his smile turned dark, and for the first time since you’ve met him, you got a glance of what his heart really looked like.

It wasn’t true that Naoya was heartless – no, he just had a dark, sinister heart that didn’t beat the same tune as others. He played his own music with the bones of his enemies, drinking their lifeline from a gold cup and drowning in them, his ominous laughter the perfect antithetical melody of what could’ve been angelic hums.

“Don’t you want that?”

His question made your heart skipped a beat. This whole time, you’ve been so hell bent on achieving something, but what you wanted to reach had never been clear. You were too driven by emotions, by the pain Satoru’s absence had caused, and now that the opportunity was presented before you, you faltered.

“I don’t know what I want.”

“Well, if you ask me what I want…” he tilts your chin up with his finger “It would be to see you strong enough that even you would be capable of taking me down. So be strong, keep fighting – I’ll be there with you every step of the way. You only have one job, and that is to live. I am not allowing you to give up at the slightest of minor inconveniences.”

“And if I get weak?” you questioned with an oscillating tremor, the bite of his cold skin against your heated ones spiking. “If I want to give up? Would I fail you then?”

“I don’t think you’re someone who cares about failing others, so don’t fret whether you’d please me or not,” Just like that, Naoya’s scornful tone had risen again. He let go of you until you dropped down to your palms, blinking back at the sudden change of atmosphere. “Like I said, just do what you need to do, keep going. Don’t look back or be afraid to take the next big step because I’ll always be there right beside you.”

“Why should I trust you?”

“I’m not asking you to, princess,” he snickered, already half way to the door that only he was allowed to go in. Even though you’ve been staying in his manor for quite some time, there were still some things Naoya didn’t trust you with, leaving you only more curious to find out the secrets within.

“Only time will tell. But once you’ve made your decision, know that my ring is always waiting beside your table,” his voice echoed through the large room, stopping in his tracks to look at you once more. This time, he had no haunting features, only the cold emptiness likened to staring back to an infinite void of nothingness.

“I expect an answer when I get home.”

You still remembered the day you decided to wear his ring. Naoya had come then, tired and aggravated from matters he didn’t bother explaining. You stood on his doorway, lips shut tight as you nervously fiddled with your ring, unsure if whether you should tell him or allow him to piece the puzzle himself.

Thankfully, Naoya was a lot more observant than you gave him credit for.

His eyes slid over your face before he followed the motion of your fingers, smirking as the jewel glinted under the bright lights of his home. Wise choice, he’d once told you, and you believed it.

Your life hadn’t been the same ever since. Your spontaneous marriage equated to hellish training of perfecting your image as his trophy wife, spending hours in his secret laboratory and discussing business plans through a glass of wine. Naoya wasn’t around much to teach you everything and it pained him to be your own trainer too so you had to ask help from his guards, refusing to give up and fall down even as your muscles screamed at you to take a break. For Naoya, with Naoya, giving up and running away felt like a myth; a buried solution in the past that should never be brought up again. But now that he was gone, you did exactly that.

You’d given up. Satoru had made you run away.

“Miss,” a deep voice cut you from your thoughts. You tore your gaze away from the  glowing night city of Milan to turn to Satoru’s right hand man, the tall figure looming rather shyly instead of imposingly. “You haven’t eaten since we got here. Would you like anything? Mr. Gojo will cover your expenses.”

“I want to go home.”

He froze at your deadpan statement. Finally meeting your gaze under his lashes, Geto pursed his lips. “You know we can’t do that, Miss. It’s unsafe back in Japan.”

“And who’s to say Toji won’t follow us here?” you snapped, pushing your weight off the Cleopatra set and uncrossing your legs. “Why can’t your stupid boss just activate the account and give it back to us? I think we’ve made it clear we’re more than capable of handling our finances, and I’m pretty sure Satoru doesn’t need any more money when he can afford all this.”

“Mr. Gojo…has his reasons for everything he does.”

You laughed bitterly. Maybe it was the fact that Satoru had left this morning for whatever business he had that you didn’t have anyone else to let your anger out to that you’d swiped your gun under your thigh holster and dashed his way.

Geto’s back slammed against the wall, the cool barrel of your gun pressed to his jaw. He swallowed nervously, eyes darting to your weapon, and you laughed heartlessly. “Oh, please, do tell because nothing makes sense,” you crooned, flipping the safety off and letting your heated gaze meet his rather docile ones. You almost felt bad for him. Almost.

“I could easily put a bullet through your head and hijack his plane. I’ll be gone before you know it and who’s to stop me from doing that? Why should I stay here any longer with you?”

“Because your husband asked you to,” Geto responded softly. You stepped back with wide eyes, yesterday’s event crashing all over you once again. He must’ve sensed you no longer held any hostility because he used his pointer finger to move the barrel away from him, gently peeling your hands off his suit. “Because you know, if you go back to Japan, there will be nothing waiting for you there.”

You balled your fists. “I will kill Fushiguro Toji myself. Then I’ll kill Satoru.”

“Even if he used to be your lover?”

“Especially because he used to be my lover.”

Okay…maybe your plan of escaping and returning to Japan hadn’t worked out that well. Exhaustion finally crept up to your senses that you passed out not long after attacking Geto – who reassured you to no end he wasn’t mad you tried to kill him – and days have passed ever since. You hated to admit it, but being stuck in an overseas hotel wasn’t so bad. Geto’s presence was a lot more comforting than his master’s that you didn’t mind having him watch your every move. Plus, he was really nice to immediately follow your every whim. You wanted hot chocolate? Extra pillows? A really expensive wine that you refused to pay for because you were petty and dramatic? He provided it all without question.

Except he probably should have, because you’d stripped off to your underwear, head tipped back to take one final swig of the nearly empty bottle as you slid deeper into the tub.

Your fiery nature of rolling your eyes at Satoru every time he came around (which was rare, for some reason) couldn’t fool anyone – not even yourself. The moment Geto retired to the living room, you would bite the pillows to muffle your cries, thinking back to when Naoya was still alive. It was an endless torment of what if you had stayed, what if you had pushed the rubble off him, what if you just saved him?

Would he still be alive? Would he have survived? Would you be back with him in the Zen’in Estate instead of holding your breath under the tub in a desperate attempt to conceal your tears?

It hurt so bad. It hurt everywhere.

Your lungs begged you to rise up and breathe, but you stayed still under the water, eyes shut tight and hands clenched around the tub’s edges so hard your knuckles turned white. Soon, you grew dizzy and your grip slipped away. Finally, fucking finally, you were falling, falling way too deep that your legs bent inside the tub. Bubbles erupted from your lips in one last breath. At the back of your mind, you let out a sincere laugh for you’d meet your husband soon. He’d be disappointed, probably scold you all the way to the afterlife – until strong arms pulled you out of the tub and into someone’s chest instead.

“Shit, what are you doing?! You could’ve drowned!”

You coughed out water and fisted Satoru’s button-up shirt that had now clung to his skin from the water. Looking around you, you were still very much alive, the uncomfortable twisting of your heart a painful reminder of that. Above you, Satoru sat you in his lap while he remained cross-legged on the floor, muttering curses under his breath as he wrapped a towel around you.

Scoffing, you pushed his hands away, though you kept the towel anyway to lessen your shivering. Why the fuck was the AC so damn strong here?

“Dying seems like a better option, don’t you think?” you snarled at him, teeth chattering from the chill that had begin to seep in.

Momentarily, you worried on how much of a hot mess you probably looked like. Smudged eyeliner, wine-stained lips, unbrushed hair and remnants of the wine mixing with the once clear bath water – you shook your head at the thought and glared at Satoru.

“Where the fuck have you been?”

“I was out contacting friends to ask for help. We’re going to need a hundred pairs of eyes watching anywhere that Toji could possibly come through.”

“Is this your pathetic idea of ‘keeping me safe’? Locking me up in this stupid hotel and having your man watch me all the time?” you pushed yourself off him, the sudden motion of standing up giving you wobbly legs. Satoru reached over to steady you but you slapped his hand away, your glare warning him to not take another step.

Seeing his face, seeing him worried as if he didn’t just cause your life to turn into absolute hell, you wanted to grab the wine bottle and smash it right at his pretty face. He had no right to look at you with pity.

You hated him, utterly and terribly despised this man with your entire being.

“What are you really planning, Satoru? Why can’t we just come back home and attack Toji with all we’ve got? Why don’t you just give back our fucking money so we can end all this for once and for all and I can leave?!”

“Because I don’t have the money!”

“What?”

“The money…” Satoru’s back slid off the wall, his palm coming up to thread through his hair. He sounded weak, defeated. “I don’t have it.”

“Gojo,” you snatched him by the collar, teeth bared as you demanded, “What do you mean you don’t have it?”

Satoru paled. “When I stole the money from the Zen’ins, the figures were all fake. They’re not real, there’s no actual money hidden behind their accounts and it was too late before I realized that,” his lips trembled as he continued, “Whatever Toji placed in there, it’s not his actual account where he hides everything and it would make sense too because I stole it too easily – almost as if they wanted me to take it. A few hacks here and there and it was immediately wired to me but after meeting you…” Satoru shook his head, chin dropped down low. “I checked again and the account never existed. It’s a fake one. The digits are just there for show.”

“So then why would Toji want it? Why did my husband have to die for nothing?!”

“I don’t know, okay, I don’t know anything!” he argued back until your faces grew closer, his nose brushing with yours.

Somehow, you couldn’t pull away. His knees had drawn up, forcing you to rest on his thighs as you both breathed heavily, your grip on his collar almost havered.

“Whatever the Zen’ins are hiding, that’s beyond me. I may be in the business for far longer than they have, but they have always been notorious with their possessions that I’m not surprised even I can’t find where it really leads back to. Whatever Toji is hiding there, your husband must’ve known something about it. Why else would they fight tooth and bone over it?”

“If there was, Naoya would’ve told me about it.”

“He would if he trusted you,” Satoru suddenly grabbed your wrist and shook it until you stared at your ring. “How are you even so sure he could trust you with that information? Have you forgotten you’re just a pawn to his game and you’re nothing but a bed warmer?”

“Don’t you ever speak about us that way. You don’t know how much he cared for me.”

“If he really did, then why didn’t he tell you why his cousin is after you? He’s using you as bait, Y/N. I’m not the bad guy here. That man you’re so deeply in love with? I can’t guarantee he’s better than me. We’re all men in the mafia, love is the last thing we would care about.”

You pushed yourself off him.

His words stung too much, not because it was a lie, but because you know there was some sort of truth ringing behind it. You trudged out of the bathroom and sat on the bed, unstirred by the fact you dripped all over the carpeted floor. From behind you, Satoru’s rushed footsteps echoed, but you didn’t care. You simply threw on a robe with your back turned to him.

“And you’d know that better than everyone right? Considering how easy it was for you to leave me?” When Satoru didn’t respond, you chuckled humorlessly and sat on the bed. “What Naoya and I had…it was a friendship that healed my soul. I don’t…I don’t know what to do without him.”

“Friendship?”

You smiled sadly. “I wasn’t actually in love with him, idiot. Men like Naoya don’t know what love is, but he sure does know how to protect family.”

The notion of talking about him, of accepting that maybe he really was gone…somewhat reliving.

Satoru was the last person you wanted to talk to your late husband about, but Geto – which is the much better company – wasn’t around, and you hugged your knees to yourself, refusing to let Satoru see through your vulnerability.

“You know, I trusted him more than I did myself. He was always there for me, no matter what. His soul was dark, angry, corrupted – he’s not the man I would fall for, but despite all that, he was the friend I needed,” you buried your face in your knees, voice muffled as you cried, your heart shattering again and again and again.

The ring on your finger had never felt so heavy ever since you wore it.

“I loved him as much as I hated you.”

Satoru was silent, so much so that you wondered if he was even in the same room at all. You sat there crying, too hopeless to even try to conceal it anymore. Shivering, you close your eyes and forced the image of Naoya’s last moments away from your memories, desperately praying to whoever had mercy that you could just forget all about it.

“Geto told me you tried to kill him,” Satoru murmured after a beat, “You could’ve easily escaped and went back to Japan if you wanted to, so why didn’t you? Was it because of me?”

You remembered what you tried to do today.

Just like that, Naoya was alive once more. You were brought back to the day of your wedding when he’d clasped your sweaty, clammy hands in his, rubbing some warmth in them before pressing a kiss at the top of your knuckles. He’d asked you to promise him something then – an entire contrast from his constants orders over your well-being – and it was a promise you’d momentarily forgotten; a promise you’d broken out of mourning.

“Naoya once told me,” you reminisced through dry, cracked lips and even more shattered heart, the picture of his disappointment as clear as day. “Death was the only place he can go where he would never allow me to follow.”

It took a lot, but it somehow got better. After allowing yourself a faint moment of weakness where Naoya resurfaced in your mind to remind you of our promise and your purpose, you felt stronger, somewhat steadier with each step you took. You were still wary around Satoru, although that was a given.

His friend, Geto, was really nice, on the other hand, and you couldn’t explain why you always lowered your guard around the formal dark-haired assistant.

You and Geto were playing chess when Satoru barged in out of nowhere, a plate and a syrup condenser on his hand. “So I got you breakfast,” was his greeting, nodding at Geto once as a silent order to give you two privacy. You pouted as the latter left, but soon your attention had been diverted to the heavenly aroma filling in your senses. Seeing your approval, Satoru hid a smile behind his dark sunglasses. “Still like pancakes?”

“Trying to get into my good graces now?”

“I’m just trying to cheer you up.”

You rolled your eyes but snatched the plate from him anyway. “So I talked to my lawyer,” you begun, pouring syrup all over the fluffy bread until it was almost spilling to the sides. Beside you, Satoru’s snickers were barely muffled, to which you ignored wholeheartedly. “They’ve already processed my inheritance over Naoya’s possessions and assets. Once we return to Japan, I’ll be the next leader of the Zen’in Clan, much to the disappointment of his elders, of course, but they can’t do anything about it,” you informed him with your fork hanging in mid-air, the words falling thickly. “You know what that means, don’t you?”

“That we’re back to being enemies?”

You offered him a sarcastic smile. “Naoya lied about strengthening his alliance with your family. He doesn’t actually give a fuck about you.”

“I figured that much,” he snickered to himself, shifting his weight until his elbows rested on his thighs. “Listen…a friend of mine is flying to Milan tonight to meet us. They have strong connections with banks all over the world and they brought in some information about that hidden Zen’in account. I think we’re finally getting off to somewhere and finding out what really is in there,” Satoru gauged for your reaction, but you kept eating – more like stuffing the pancakes inside your mouth for you were finally free of having to act perfect without your husband.

Satoru’s hand landed on top of yours. “I promise…I’ll give it back to right where it belongs. As soon as it’s wired back to you, I’m setting you free.”

You stared at the unwanted figure over you, and you snatched your hand back, waving a bread knife below his lashes. “You can’t set me free when I was never yours,” you sang breathily, the tip of the blade hovered right at his lips. Satoru raised a brow at you, but you quickly retrieved the knife back with widened eyes. “Now that you mention it…I think Naoya told me something about his family stashing secret weapons and even heirlooms through offshore accounts and buried under islands. He was a little sleepy during that time but I remember it,” pushing the plate away from you as you lost your appetite, you clutched your palms under your chin in thought. “He said he was looking for something he lost as a child, possibly an heirloom.”

“He’s doing all this for heirlooms?” Satoru immediately coughed his words back when you glared at him, raising his hands in surrender. “I mean, I was just saying. I didn’t think he was a sentimental type of guy.”

“The question here is what both Toji and Naoya could’ve both wanted from that account. It’s not just an heirloom, obviously there’s something there worth more than money,” You argued and slapped your knees, heading straight to your (unfortunately) shared room. “Whatever. I’ll get this over with as soon as I get the money back.”

Satoru, as always, was hot on your heels. It annoyed you how he trailed over you like some sort of puppy or shadow – Naoya had always been too classy to not give you space.

The difference between them just kept getting more and more uncannily obvious.

“Whoa there, stop. Did you really think I’d give back the money to you and that’s it? Are you forgetting the fact Toji is out there to kill you just so he can have his hands on it?”

“He can have the money for all I fucking care,” you shrugged and sat on your bed, scrolling through numerous piles of emails and records that Naoya entrusted you to keep. Surely you could find something. “I just need to find whatever Naoya’s spent his whole life killing for.”

“Why don’t you care about the money? Didn’t Naoya expect you to take over his business?”

Your thumb froze over a file. Suddenly, your throat grew dry, and you quickly flashed Satoru a stinky eye. “I-it’s not my main concern.”

“It’s not safe for you. If Toji finds out—”

Got it. You bookmarked an email Naoya had forwarded you around three years ago and resent it to an old friend, pocketing the phone back to your pyjamas before Satoru could see. “I’ll handle it. I’ve been doing well so far before you came into our lives again,” you finalized, stopping for a bit as you waited for that all-too familiar footfall matching with yours, only for the room to be coated in silence.

Satoru stood there on the other side of the room, eyes deep in thought before he sighed. “I’ll meet you at the hotel restaurant tonight. We have a lot to discuss on what our next move should be,” nodding once, Satoru left the room.

The hotel room was eerily silent.

Dinner came around faster than you expected. With Geto out to run some errands for Satoru, something about ‘establishing bases’ or whatever, you were locked in your room, using Naoya’s black card to get enough amount of clothing to last you for your stay here. Even though Satoru had promised he’d take care of everything, you didn’t want to be in his debt for any longer. You weren’t his, you were Naoya’s, and you shot down his curious looks when heaps of shopping bags had been delivered to your door.

An hour later, you left the room, struggling to zipper the back of your dress. Satoru was already in the living room buttoning up his suit jacket, just as handsome as ever (though you’d never tell him that.)

His hands froze in the last button once his eyes landed on you, and you huffed at him, too distressed to even act cute or bothered while pointing to your dress. Satoru strode to you in three long steps, his cold fingers brushing against the dip of your spine when he clutched on the zipper.

You had to bite your lip down to prevent the shivers from spilling through, his lips dangerously close to your ear as he whispered, “You look great.”

“You’re not so bad yourself.”

If Satoru was bothered by the lack of sincerity in your voice, he didn’t comment on it. He removed his hands from you and watched as you slipped black velvet gloves through your arms – just in case you had to end up killing someone; leaving fingerprints was a risk you couldn’t take.

“Did you really get dressed to kill?”

“I came here to negotiate,” you corrected, “I’ll do everything I can to find out whatever’s behind that offshore account. And you, sir,” Frowning at him, you pulled Satoru closer by the tie, perhaps a little too harshly since he nearly knocked his head with yours. He was quick to steady himself as you fixed his tie, flattening it down with your fingers. “You need to know where you should stick your nose in. This is more my business than yours so don’t get in my way acting all hero and shit. I assure you I can handle myself.”

“You’re really going to berate me for worrying about you?”

“You can no longer worry about me,” you disclosed, snatching your black purse from the counter before doing the come hither motion at his shock-still figure. “Now let’s go. We have a case to crack.”

“Case to crack? You sure sound like a detective.”

You snickered, but made no further comment. The elevators dinged and you arrived at the restaurant, which you really regretted not visiting soon enough because the place was grand. Red carpeted floors, golden chandeliers, soft jazz music playing in the background as the lights dimmed down low, the faint clinking of utensils against plates and light chatter of the guests so heartbreakingly nostalgic.

It seemed that even after his death, Naoya had every intention to never leave your side. The setting reminded you too much of your never-ending late night fancy dinners.

Naoya being Naoya, he didn’t blink twice in flaunting his money and renting out entire restaurants all for himself, claiming that he just ‘wanted to have an intimate moment with his wife.’ Sure, it mostly consisted of you discussing what move you should make next, but it was the most affectionate gesture you’ve received after spending years in the quiet and cold environment of the Zen’in Estate.

The outside world wasn’t any better when you and Naoya were marked as targets by the entire government, so it made sense, that only with him that you’d find comfort in.

You must be so out of it you never even noticed Satoru leading you to your seat, a warm meal that should’ve been comforting right under your nose. It was too much – too similar that you headed straight for the wine, ignoring Satoru’s questioning gaze. You noticed from the corner of his eye that he opened his mouth too many times in an attempt to make light conversation, but this dinner wasn’t for you to rekindle your old flame.

No, you were here to wait for his ‘friend’ and review important matters. You were determined to fulfill that purpose alone and only that alone that you never once made eye contact with him, even standing up to reach the salt shaker near him instead of asking him to pass it.

Just as you leaned back to your seat, the music grew louder. A foreign man walked to the stage where he was basked in the spotlight, all heads turning to him when he tapped the microphone, sending little echoes all over the hall. “Ladies and gentlemen, let’s loosen up tonight with a drink and bring our lovers out here on the dance floor,” he sang while swaying side to side, snapping his fingers to the beat that had turned into calming to sensual. “It is a fine evening, isn’t it? Come on, don’t be shy, the night is still so young!”

You dropped your fork beside the plate. “Did you know about this?”

“I swear, I had no idea.”

“Those two attractive lovers in table 42, the dance floor is still much too spacious!”

“Pretty vulgar for a five star hotel,” you commented under your breath and dabbed the pasta sauce off your lips with a napkin, slapping it down the table as you stood up – much to Satoru’s surprise who’d tried to make himself invisible from the host’s eyes. Stupid him; did he really think he could blend in with his sunglasses and snow white hair?

If you were to be honest, you’d rather choke on shrimp than dance with him, but you had an image to upkeep. If you couldn’t gather with the crowd and pretend to be one with others, both your true natures would be fished out even with innocent eyes. You were left with no choice but to be comfortable in the dance floor, sighing deeply as you placed your hands down on Satoru’s wide shoulders. He furrowed his brows at you but said nothing else; strong, cautious hands sliding down from your back before they settled at the curve of your hips.

“Keep your hands to yourself, Mister. I won’t hesitate to stab a fork through your jugular right here.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I know you’re not my little angel anymore.”

Angel. It was what he used to call you back then – when you were still but an innocent, naïve being who never believed in monsters until you fell for one.

He was right; you were no longer his angel. The woman he loved had been left abandoned in the street, the purity of her soul tainted with anger and heartbreak that soon bathed in blood and the need for revenge. His angel was no more – the woman he danced with was nothing but a replica of the face and body he adored the most. Now, you danced with him, not as his angel and neither as his rival’s wife, but simply as a woman whose kindness had long vanished into thin air.

Satoru danced with the devil.

And he should be disgusted just as you should be repulsed with how sickeningly smooth and graceful he was in everything he did, but the wine – yes, it was the fucking wine – messed with you that you actually enjoyed it. Your bodies moved in rhythm and syncopated with the beat, the romantic high notes of the violin and the tender embrace of deep trebles like a classical painting coming to life and you were its subjects to be expressed.

Perhaps…you were just sad. You grieved and mourned too much you’d momentarily forgot what love was, in turn making you forget what it felt like to be constantly unsafe and peeking over your shoulder in case someone tried to kill you.

Satoru just felt so warm, so safe and alive that you found your head dipping lower, your muscles relaxing around his soothing and undeniably tender touch, the space between your bodies diminishing until you surrendered to the power of your desire. You were so close, your ear about to press on his chest to listen to the blissful sound of someone’s reassuring heartbeat along with the music, and then you saw him.

A tuft of blonde hair, a chiseled face, a nude cream suit and a deep blue shirt beneath – what the fuck was he doing here?

The spell was broken in an instant.

Satoru must’ve been under the same trance for his hand trailed lower to pull you closer, your chests grazing with one another before you placed your palm flat on his body, lips thinned into a grim look that resonated with the sick, twisting feeling in your guts.

“I,” you croaked out, clearing your throat when it went dry. “I need to go to the ladies.”

You left Satoru without another word, bunching your dress up to run to where he had disappeared. He was still walking coolly and inspecting the paintings hung in the empty lobby with faux interest – although knowing him, the bastard probably did enjoy classical pieces and studied about them in his free time; which he didn’t have much to begin with.

As if sensing your presence, he stopped right in front of a replica of The Sleeping Venus, his hands dug deep in his pockets. “The shape of being is the visual demonstration of a state of being in which idealized existence is suspended in immutable slow-breathing harmony. All the sensuality has been distilled off from this sensuous presence, and all incitement; Venus denotes not the act of love but the recollection of it. The perfect embodiment of Giorgione’s dream, she dreams his dream herself,” he narrates in his baritone voice, “A little cordial, is it not?”

You took your gun out from your thigh holster and lowered it right at the back of his skull. “Don’t move another inch.”

“No need to be so hostile in a public setting, Y/N. I’m only here to look out for you and making sure you’re not forgetting who you are. Killing me isn’t part of the plan.”

“Neither was murdering my husband,” you growled, pushing the barrel harder against him, though the man didn’t budge before you. “I know that it wasn’t Toji who set off the bomb, Kento, you did.”

“We simply saw an opportunity that couldn’t be wasted. Two notorious mafia leaders in an unsuspecting supposed safe environment?” The fact he didn’t even deny it left you speechless. Kento spun around until your gun rested between his eyes, and he languidly pushed his glasses up his high nose as he looked down on you. “We could’ve killed two birds with one stone had you not been in the way.”

“You guys are out to kill me too now?”

“Don’t act too surprised. The Organization isn’t patient enough to wait for both leaders to die.”

“So you killed my husband?!” you argued, “He was my friend, I told you not to touch him!”

“Only in the exchange that you hand him to us,” Kento echoed, jogging your memory until you were kept up to date. “But it’s been five years and what has happened so far? You’re fraternizing with the enemy and even manufacturing drugs for your so-called husband. Now that he’s dead, you’re here in Italy, looking as stunning as ever as you wine and dine with a former lover,” Kento tilted his head to the side to study your appearance – smiling at how you seemed too bright and fashionable for a woman in supposed mourning.

“I hardly believe you’re actually affected by this at all.”

“How dare you! I’ve proven to no end my loyalty of the higher-ups!”

Kento didn’t bat an eye at your outburst. If anything, he stepped closer to your weapon. “Kill me if you wish, Y/N, but know the moment you put a bullet in my head, the Organization will place you on the same pedestal as Naoya’s and Gojo’s. I wouldn’t recommend such methods considering we’re already at unease on whose side you’re really on. If you do this, you will be our enemy.”

“I did everything for the Organization. What else would you want from me?”

“The contract was easy. We want both leaders – whether dead or alive – in our custody. If you don’t hold your side of the deal, it’s not only your life that we’ll take from you,” Kento pulled out a red coin that made your heart sink deep into your stomach for it served as a threat over the consequences of your actions.

He lowered your gun with the coin and smirked at you, his lips right beside the shell of your ear as he purred, “I suggest you be careful with what step of action you take next.”

“Oi, Nanami, you’re here!” Satoru’s voice suddenly boomed in the hallway. Nanami was as unbothered as ever from taking a step away from you, nodding to your gun which you quickly concealed right before Satoru arrived. You were frozen – rendered immobile with the flashing red metal from his palm – that you couldn’t even protest against Satoru wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I see you’ve met Mrs. Zen’in already.”

“Hmm, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Madam,” taking your hand in his, Kento’s eyes were nothing but eerie as he kissed your knuckles. “Shall we start our discussion?”

SUKI RANTS! Nanami quoted Sydney Joseph Friedberg (an art critic) in one of his dialogues. A little backstory on the painting was that the portrait was originally made by Giorgone, who had a student and also his lover (if I’m not mistaken) called Titian. Giorgone never finished the portrait because he died from the plague but Titiane finished it for him, symbolizing that Y/N still has a mission that connected her from Naoya even after his death and she has to finish something he started. The portrait is of a nude woman that symbolized oneness of nature and that the woman isn’t posed for the gaze of men, but rather they are dreaming, hence the quote: “Venus denotes not the act of love but the recollection of it. The perfect embodiment of Giorgione’s dream, she dreams his dream herself.” Nanami said the painting’s meaning resonated with Y/N’s situation too much since she wasn’t in love with Naoya, but she had a recollection of their moments that still represented their relationship, and that Naoya’s dream (goals) are also shared by Reader. I was gonna ask you guys what your theories are on that scene but I think this makes me sound cooler if I explain it so *lip bite emoji because I’m still broken over Naoya’s death*

taglist open (lmk if you want to be added/removed):

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[justice4canyonmoon]

An Evening Off

Summary: Both Y/n and Harry have a rare night off. Y/n has relaxing plans for how they should spend it.

Notes: Howdy! This is probably the last fic I’m going to post for the next two weeks; I have finals for college next week, and I have a fuck ton of work this week because professors love to give students everything at once 🙃 Anyway, I came up with the very fluffy concept because I crave emotional intimacy, so I hope you like it!!!!

Warnings: cursing ig. otherwise just a lot of fluff and taking a bath together 🥰

WC: 1.9k

Y/n was feeling lonely.

Her boring ass office job didn’t produce too many friends for her. While the people she worked with weren’t the absolute worst, they were just, well, bland. Their lives were cookie-cutter. The closest thing any of them had experienced to a true adventure was a trip to IKEA. Her two best friends, Maria and José, were across the country, since she had moved from one coast to another to live with her boyfriend. Sure, she could FaceTime them, but it just wasn’t the same. And after the call, she knew she’d just be more lonely than before.

Harry wasn’t an option either. He was working, far too hard for her liking. She understood, of course; it was album crunch time. He had to make all of the last minute decisions: finalizing the tracklist, photoshoots, and touch-ups on the chosen tracks in the studio. But she missed him. The only times she saw him anymore was right before bed, when he would stumble into the room sleepily and kiss her forehead before going right to sleep. So yeah, she was a bit lonely. And being alone on her day off wasn’t exactly the plans she wanted to have.

Luckily, the universe decided to answer her pleas. At around 1:00, after she had finished up a late shower, her phone buzzed with a text from her beloved.

H: Hi, baby! The only thing we have left on the agenda today is touching up a couple of the album tracks, so I should be home a bit earlier :D If you’d like, I can pick up some dinner on the way home.

She couldn’t help the huge grin that spread across her face. For the first time in ages, the two of them could finally have some time together! Maybe she could do something nice for him! He had been working so hard lately, he deserved it. And honestly, she did, too. An idea popped into her head, and she threw open the bathroom closet, taking a look through her bath supplies. She grinned triumphantly as she pulled out a citrus bath bomb, knowing that Harry enjoyed the calming scent of orange and lemon. A nice bath would not only help Harry destress, but it would also be the perfect cure to the loneliness that was settling in her heart. She quickly texted Harry a reply as she set the bath bomb aside.

Y/n: Sorry about the wait, babe, was just taking a shower. Forgot to this morning lol

He answered pretty much right away, making her smile.

H: It’s okay, baby! No need for apologies :)

Y/n: Okay! I’m excited to actually get to spend some time with you! I could really go for curry, if you’re up for Indian takeout.

H: Curry sounds good to me! I’ll probably be home between 6 or 7! I have to go now, but I can’t wait to see you :) I love you so much!!!!

Y/n: Can’t wait to see you, either, Har!!! I love you, too 💕💕

“Baby, ‘m home!”

Y/n looked at the clock. It was 7:30, a bit later than what Harry had said through text, but still much earlier than usual. She leapt up from the couch and sprinted to the front door, tackling Harry in a hug. He laughed loudly and wound his free arm around her waist, not fully able to hug her back because of the takeout bag in his arms.

“Let me put the food down so I can give y’ a proper hug.”

She let go with a small pout on her face, which Harry promptly kissed off while setting the bag down. He then wrapped her in a tight, two-armed embrace. She melted at the contact, resting her head on his chest and hugging him back just as tightly. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head, then rested his head on top of hers.

“Miss you, Har,” she said, her speech slightly muffled from talking into his t-shirt.

She could feel him frown against her hair, “I miss y’ too, Y/n. The album should be done by the end of the month, and then ‘m all yours until tour starts.”

“Good. I was gonna break into the studio and steal you back myself if you weren’t done soon.”

He chuckled, “I don’ think Jeff would like that very much.”

“Fuck Jeff! I need you back here,” she scoffed.

“I certainly hope y’ don’ want t’ fuck Jeff.”

She rolled her eyes, “You’re annoying.”

He grinned cheekily, “But yet y’ still here.”

“Lord only knows why,” Y/n grumbled, though there was a smile on her face.

They pulled away reluctantly, both realizing how hungry they were. The two chowed down on chicken curry and naan while chatting about their day. Y/n spent most of her day off watching The Great British Bake-Off and snuggling with Daiquiri, their black lab. Harry had been putting the finishing touches on three of the album songs (“I can’ wait to play them f’ y’, baby”), and ranted about the traffic coming home (“I would’ve gotten home 45 minutes earlier, but the freeway was ridiculously clogged up!”). It was domestic in a way that Y/n never thought she would have, and she loved every second of it.

When everything from dinner was cleaned up, Y/n figured now was as good a time as any to reveal her plans for the rest of their evening.

“Hey, Har,” she paused, then continued when she heard his hum of acknowledgment, “would you want to take a bath with me?”

He raised an eyebrow, “Is this a ploy t’ get me naked?”

“No,” Y/n said bashfully, “I just thought it would be nice to take a bath together. I found a citrus bath bomb at the back of the closet, and I thought it would be relaxing for us.”

Harry’s eyes softened and he smiled gently at her, “That sounds perfect, love. Y’ too sweet.”

The two made their way to the bathroom, hand in hand. Y/n plucked the bath bomb from the closet and laid it in the tub, turning on the warm water. The water became a pastel shade of yellow, reflecting the lemony scent of the bath bomb. As she was checking the temperature, a pair of tattooed arms wrapped around her waist, and a kiss was pressed to her cheek. The heat radiating off of his body led her to believe that Harry had already rid himself of his clothes. When she turned around, her suspicions were confirmed.

“You work fast,” she commented, making a humming sound when the temperature was to her satisfaction.

“A bit,” he confirmed, leaning over to turn off the nozzle “just wanna take a bath with y’, love. Speaking of, let’s get those pesky clothes off of y’, shall we?”

Y/n nodded and Harry reached forward, almost reverently lifting her (his) sweatshirt over her head. She shimmied out of her leggings and removed her undergarments. She stepped into the bath first, gesturing for him to follow. He obeyed, and sat between her legs, resting his head on her shoulder. The two sat in silence for a while, basking in each other’s company. Y/n couldn’t remember a time where she had felt this at peace. But she also knew that Harry had forgotten to shower that morning since he was nearly late to the studio, so she reached over and grabbed some soap and a washcloth. She looked down at him and giggled softly when she realized he was almost asleep

“Wake up, baby,” she crooned, “let me wash you.”

“‘M awake,” he muttered, “promise.”

“Sure you are, that’s why your eyes are closed,” Y/n teased.

He only hummed in response, making her giggle again. She kissed his forehead and began washing him gently. The soft circles she was rubbing into his skin with the washcloth were soothing, and a sleepy smile made its way onto his face.

“‘Y always take such good care of me. Dunno how I got s’ lucky.”

Y/n felt her face grow warm as she reached for the shampoo, “I think I’m the lucky one. You always take care of me, too.”

She began rubbing the shampoo into his silky locks. Breathy gasps fell from his lips as she tugged lightly as his hair, working the shampoo into his curls.

“Feels s’ good,” he murmured.

“Glad you’re feeling good, Har,” Y/n replied in a hushed tone.

She rinsed his hair and repeated the process with the conditioner. By the time she had finished, Harry had fully fallen asleep on her shoulder. She cooed softly at how adorable he looked. He was like an angel; his long lashes were speckled with little water drops, his wet hair stuck to his forehead in an oddly endearing way, and a small smile was spread across his lips. He looked so relaxed in a way that Y/n hadn’t seen in a while. The bath helped her feel more at ease too; the monotonous motions of washing Harry made the stress from her job melt away, and the loneliness that had plagued her earlier in the day was washed away by the warm water. But she knew she had to wake Harry. She wasn’t quite strong enough to carry all six feet of him back to their bedroom.

Y/n gently jostled his shoulder and whispered, “Harry. Need you to wake up, baby.”

He groaned softly, making her giggle softly once more. His eyes slowly blinked open to reveal his jade irises, and he stumbled his way out of the tub, making her laugh a little harder as she followed. Y/n got out two towels and dried them both off, knowing that Harry was much too tired to do it on his own. She took his hand and walked toward their bedroom.

When they reached the bedroom, Y/n guided Harry to sit on the bed while she picked out sweats for both of them to wear to sleep (she knew that Harry had a particular fondness for when she wore his clothes to bed, so she got out his clothes for both of them). Harry pliantly moved his limbs as she clothed him, and watched her with moony eyes as she pulled on her own sleepwear.

“Look s’ pretty in m’ clothes, love,” he complimented, relishing in the shy smile that appeared on her face.

“Thank you, Har. Let’s get you to bed, okay?” she replied.

Y/n turned off the light and joined Harry on the bed. He was already lying on his side, so she wound her arms around his waist, resting her head between his shoulder blades. Usually, he was the big spoon, but with the whole mood they had set all night, it just felt right for her to be the one cuddling him. Y/n barely heard Harry mumble a “g’night. Love you,” before his breathing evened out. She smiled and closed her eyes, reflecting on the day. Just spending one evening with her boyfriend made her feel right as rain, and the loneliness that had once threatened to overtake her was totally gone. Though she had been taking care of him that night, he was also taking care of her. And sure, they were both going back to work tomorrow, but in two weeks, Harry would be done with the album and would be all hers. When sleep finally overtook her, all she had were the most pleasant of dreams.

[kikyan]

You’re my favorite Human (Yandere Izaya x F! Reader x Yandere Shizuo)

Before ANY of yall say anything, I wrote this as a birthday special to an online friend I once had. If Izaya and literally anybody else sounds OOC, it’s because this was written back in 2018/2019 after I watched Durarara!! For a bit of background info, I first watched Durarara!! back in middle school when a friend admitted to liking the anime and well I decided to watch too. This show was too complex for my small ass mind so I dropped it. Then I met my online friend (we are no longer friends) who would always comment on Quotev where I was most active at the time. Well, I literally only picked up this anime again for said friend and the birthday request. I wrote this immediately right after the show so if it sucks ass, there is a reason for it. Anyway’s I promise to give them justice if I manage to write my spooky Slasher AU’s for them. Also if you somehow end up managing which ‘slasher’ Shizuo and Izaya fit I’ll write you a special one-shot within my guidelines for your birthday/Christmas depending on the time constraint. Here you go, for the curious peeps!  This story branches off to two endings, Izaya ending w/ Smut and a Shizuo ending because I became a hardcore simp over that man and will literally do anything he tells me to. Regardless, I will edit the links and such for their appropriate endings! This story is also unedited so. . .have fun IG 

ALSO THE READER IS A FEMALE BECAUSE THIS WAS A BIRTHDAY REQUEST THAT A CERTAIN SOMEONE DIDN’T LIKE SO YEAH FUCK THEM, BUT THEY WERE FEMALE AND WANTED THAT SO JUST REPLACE SHE/HER WITH THE PRONOUNS YOU FEEL MOST COMFORABLE WITH!!!!! I ALSO DIDN’T KNOW HOW TO WRITE BACK THEN SO YOU’RE A GENERIC MC WITH A STUTTER PROBABLY 

God I sucked at writing fics so much back then. . .

"IZAYA!!" 

The blonde man proceeded to pick up the red vending machine stationed outside a random building, preparing to lance it at the black-haired male he called Izaya. 

"S-Shizuo!! It's not worth it!! Calm down!! Um- I know! I'll make some tea for you to calm down just please drop the vending machine!!"

"NO, I CAN'T! AFTER SEEING THIS PIECE OF SHIT I'M ALREADY FUMING WITH RAGE!" 

"Shizuo!! Please!! Milk! Yep, milk will surely calm you down just please Shizuo!! You're attracting too much attention and you don't like violence right!!" 

“Throw it Shizu-Chan. Or are you too weak to hold it anymore.”

"IZAYA!!!" 

Shizuo turned away from the (h/c) individual as he began to grip a stop sign before removing it from the ground and began to run towards Izaya. 

" Shizuo stop!! Geez, Izaya please refrain from edging him on! Shizuo don't give in! You're better, in fact, you want to be better!! You want to be stronger to have more control right!! Well. . . Don't give in!!" 

At the sound of this Shizuo stopped before tossing the stop sign to the side and grabbing the (h/c) haired individual and dragging you off with him. 

Looking back, the person Shizuo was dragging turned around to look back at Izaya before stopping in their tracks and bowing apologetically. 

" I'm sorry Izaya for the commotion we caused, but I hope you understand that Shizuo is a bit difficult but I'm sure he can change! You too izaya, you seem to try to edge him on and that reflects poorly on you! So please Izaya, I hope you understand too!" 

" Oi (Y/N), what are you apologizing for?" 

Smiling softly at Izaya and giving him a shy wave (Y/N) turned to face Shizuo and continued to answer his question.

"Well, I mean I didn't stop him from edging you on!" 

" I swear you really are the most optimistic, apologetic, and kindest person on this planet. You are one of a kind." 

Laughing softly (Y/N)  turned to Shizuo as they began to reply, " Thank you! It means a lot to me Shizuo!" 

Walking alongside Shizuo, (Y/N) proceeded to make small talk unaware of the lingering dark eyes upon her figure.

~~ 

"(Y/N), I swear I can't figure you out. No matter what you do or what happens you always apologize to everyone. Even that damn Izaya!" 

"Well, Shizuo I like to be positive!! Besides, I'm sure second chances must be given!!" 

" Hmph. Even those who commit the worst of crimes?" 

"Well, I'm not the one entitled to forgive them for crimes committed against another, but I believe if someone truly wanted to, someone could change." 

"Oh?" 

" For example, you! I mean you've gotten several chances, haven't you? You have a stable job, although you can get quite violent, you have friends, and you are trying your hardest to change! So, I feel like anyone could change!!" 

"Hmph. You forgot something. . ." 

" I did?" 

" Yeah, I also have the best person next to my side, you, (Y/N) (L/N)." 

" I-I-I-I u-um S-sh!?" 

" Heh, you get flustered all of a sudden and it suits your personality. I wonder how I got stuck with someone like you (Y/N). . ."

~~

Bodies were lying around Shizuo in the school field as he huffed in rage and looked to the side to see a (h/c) haired female with (e/c) eyes looking wide at the scene that laid before them. 

" Hmph, what are you scared?" 

Shizuo asked as he looked at the female before looking a bit confused as he noticed the expression on the girl changed. She was smiling and shook her head before answering his question. 

" Nope! I mean what you did isn't good but I'm sure you have a reason! Besides, I feel like deep down you regret it. I mean, although you are pretty violent, you probably don't want to be right?" 

"I... .hmph. Stop being odd and spouting nonsense." 

As the female turned to the bodies she bowed apologetically and began to speak. 

"I'm sorry! I apologize for his behavior! He doesn't mean it! He regrets it! Besides, you guys should know that violence isn't acceptable so please apologize for your actions as well! Fighting isn't acceptable!!" 

"HUH? WHAT THE HELL? WHO THE HELL YOU APOLOGIZING TO?" 

" W-w-well I am apologizing to them and you!! I mean you didn't mean too!! Besides, fighting is wrong! Both parties were at fault so I must apologize for it!" 

" WHY THE HELL DO YOU WANT TO APOLOGIZE? YOU DIDN'T DO ANYTHING!"

"W-w-well!! They are knocked out and can't speak, plus you won't apologize, you want to but you can't bring yourself to!!"

" OKAY BUT WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?" 

"I-I’M SORRY!! I DIDN'T MEAN TO BOTHER YOU BUT I THOUGHT THAT WELL I-?!" 

"NOW WHY ARE YOU APOLOGIZING?!" 

 "I'M SORRY! I DIDN'T MEAN TO-!?"

"STOP APOLOGIZING!" 

"I'M SORRY! AHHH I KEEP DOING IT!" 

"YEAH. NOW STOP!" 

"I'M SORRY I'LL TRY! WAIT-" 

"OH JUST SHUT UP!" 

"I'M SOR-!?" 

"STOP APOLOGIZING! GOD DAMN IT!" 

"I CAN'T IT'S A HABIT!" 

"Geez, troublesome woman." 

" Ahhh!! What time is it?!" 

"Why the hell are you asking me?" 

"Crap I think I missed my train! Now I have to walk home! Wait, that's fine! I missed gym class to help the teachers so this will count for my exercise! Of course, I shouldn't feel down!" 

" You're unusually optimistic. I'd be pissed as all hell if that happened." 

"Well I think everything happens for a reason and besides, you need to see the bright side of everything! Anyway, I need to go! I have to walk for about maybe 2 hours till I arrive home and I do have homework to complete! I'm sorry for being a bother but I hope to see you tomorrow at school!" 

"Wait." 

 "Yeah?" 

"Let me, let me walk you home alright." 

"B-b-but!?" 

"LISTEN IT'S MY FAULT YOU MISSED THE TRAIN SO LET ME WALK YOU HOME DAMN IT!" 

"Ahh okay okay! I'm sorry for bothering you but thank you!!" 

"Yeah, yeah just stop apologizing and don't start again." 

"Alright! By the way, what's your name?"

" Shizuo Heiwajima. Yours?" 

" (Y/N) (L/N)!" 

As they began to walk side by side (Y/N) began to laugh as she asked Shizuo questions upon question leading to Shizuo answering them and laughing as he realized, maybe having someone not fear him, was a good feeling. 

"Hey, Shizuo?" 

"Yeah? What is it?" 

" Wanna go for Russian sushi?" 

Looking down at the girl Shizuo gave his usual smirk before responding happily. 

" Sure, why not?" 

~~

"Hey, Shizuo?" 

" Yeah?" 

Turning around he met with the female who became his best friend and possibly his crush. Smiling softly he turned to give her all of his attention despite the number of bodies surrounding him in the field of his high school. 

"Well, I was wondering if you wanted to um, well. . ." 

"SHIZUO! I have someone I would like to introduce you too!~" 

" Huh?" 

Shizuo replied in his usual tone as to be turned to meet the faces of the young boy with glasses, brown hair and grey eyes whom he quickly recognized as his friend Shinra Kishitani but the other boy, had dark hair and matching eyes he did not. 

"What do you want Shinra?" 

"Oh? Am I interrupting you and your girlfriend~" 

"Girlfriend?! I-I-I’m j-just a friend!?" 

Shizuo looked to the side but quickly locked eyes with the boy. Shinra looking at Shizuo quickly turned to introduce the other boy. 

"His name is Izaya Orihara! He is in the same year and class as us!" 

Upon looking at Izaya, Shizuo quickly launched an attack towards him before Izaya leaped out and grabbed his knife before slicing Shizuo across the abdomen. Shizuo looked down noticing the wound before looking back at Izaya. 

"S-s-shizuo?! Are you okay? Oh, I'm so sorry this happened!!" 

"(Y/N) it's fine and stop apologizing! You didn't do anything wrong! Besides, it was him, Izaya. . ." 

"Oh? Come on Shizu-chan I haven't even done anything. . ." 

"I'm sorry!! I apologize that Shizuo charged at you and hurt you! He tends to do that a lot, but I apologize on your behalf! Shizuo, I apologize that Izaya cut you! I'm sorry I couldn't stop him from cutting you and possibly distracted you. So please, violence is not the answer! Izaya and Shizuo I apologize and I hope you may make up and be best friends!!" 

"Eh?" 

"(Y/N) YOU DIDN'T DO ANYTHING WRONG! STOP APOLOGIZING FOR OUR MISTAKES!" 

"I'm sorry! Ah, wait u-u-um well I know you both didn't mean it!!" 

"Here we go again. . . (Y/N) STOP APOLOGIZING, ON TOP OF THAT TO THAT GUY!" 

Shizuo was pointing at Izaya with a hint of disgust written across his face as Izaya looked dumbfounded for a split moment before asking, "Wait? You serious?" 

"Huh?" 

"Did you just apologize for something you didn't do?" 

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to bother you!" 

"I-, well it seems this took an interesting turn of events. Well, goodbye Shizu-chan, (Y/N) right?" 

"Y-yeah. . ." 

Shizuo stood in front holding his arm protectively (Y/N)  as Izaya twirled the pocket knife in his arms in a strange direction before smiling and whispering a small, “Interesting. . .” 

As Izaya turned to leave, Shizuo muttered a small “ That bastard makes me so damn mad” before turning to (Y/N) realizing she had something to say before you were both rudely interrupted by Shinra. 

“ Hey (Y/N) what did you want? You had something to say before that damn bastard arrived.” 

“ O-Oh I-I did. . . um, Shizuo I wanted to ask if you wanted to miss the last train again and... .walk me home, and get Russian sushi with me. . .” 

“ Is that your way of asking me out on a date?” 

Teasing (Y/N) slightly she turned red upon hearing that before nodding her head softly. With a sigh, Shizuo smiled and dragged the smaller female by her arm before muttering a “ finally you asked” causing the female to turn even redder at the comment. (Y/N) ran a little ahead and turned back to smile at Shizuo before whispering “ I love you Shizuo. . .” 

~~ 

Walking to the shared home that Shizuo and (Y/N) have, (Y/N) grabbed a small jug of milk before handing it to Shizuo scolding him for getting violent, but congratulating him on holding back and not letting Izaya get to him. 

“ I don’t know what I would do without you (Y/N), I mean it . . .” 

“ I’m just lucky this happened when we were walking together and not when you were working. Izaya can be a bit extreme but I’m sure he means well!!” 

“Heh, you always look on the bright side, don’t you?” 

“ Exactly!! Looking on the bright side is exactly what brought us together!! I mean after you dropped me off at my house we got to be great friends, that's also when you confided in me your secrets and feelings. Then you began to realize that I didn’t fear you and truly cared for you. Then we went on a date, and became a couple! Dating for a good 5, 6 years?” 

“ Yep, luckily we still love each other.” 

“ I won’t ever stop loving you Shizuo, because you accepted me for who I am. Now it’s time to let me accept you for who you are. . . I mean I already did but you can’t get it through that thick skull of yours can you?” 

“ What do you mean, I understand.” 

“ Yet, every time you encounter Izaya and I’m not around you come home quite sad and always ask me if I would ever leave you. Shizuo, I would never leave you.” 

“ Well yeah but. . .”

“ But?” 

“ You’re right. I should head to work. See you later (Y/N). Take care and don’t do anything strange.” 

“ I wouldn’t do anything you wouldn’t do.” 

“ That worries me.” 

“ I’m just going to talk to Celty or just hang around the park! See you later Shizuo!” 

“ Hmph. Later and don’t forget that I love you.” 

“ I should be saying that but of course! Love you too and later!” 

Shizuo smiled at the girl before heading off to visit Tom his friend and employer. They had another client that refused to pay up and Shizuo was going to “pay” him a visit to ensure he did. (Y/N) locked the door before going on her phone and texting Celty. 

‘ You busy Cel?’ 

‘ No, not really. Why do you ask?’ 

`` I just wanted to see if you wanted to hang out and chat.’ 

‘ Sure. I’ll pick you up and we can head off to the park. That fine?’ 

``you read my mind Cel. Alright, I’ll get ready.’  

(Y/N) changed into a new set of clothing before waiting on the couch for Celty to pick her up and head to the park. Celty and (Y/N) got along well as well, (Y/N) always saw the bright side. When she and celty were close enough, originally being introduced by Shinra, Celty confided in her about not having a head and (Y/N) offered some light on the subject. 

“ Well, head or no head  I think you’re perfect just the way you are. For example, you can still do pretty much everything right? Aside from taste but still Celty! I think that is what makes you unique I mean, if you think about it, only those people who truly love and care for you will accept you no matter what. Take a look at Shizuo, he believed everyone feared him, but I didn’t. I love him! Just like I love you Celty! I accept you for who you are and you will always be celty with or without your head! So cheer up, I don’t like seeing my friends sad!” 

With that, a new friendship was born leading (Y/N) to be best friends with the fearsome headless rider. 

< - - - - - - - - - - - - > 

KANRA HAS JOINED THE CHAT

Kanra: Hey guys! I have a question about a specific person. 

Setton: A person? Who? 

TarouTanaka: Agreed. It’s quite rare to see you not having information on anyone. 

Kanra: Precisely, which is why I must know. Do any of you know a (Y/N) (l/n)? 

Setton: (Y/N)? Not personally but I’ve heard rumors. . . 

Setton: There’s not much I know about her, but I’ve heard rumors of her being in the Dollars.

Setton: Besides that, I’ve also heard she’s Shizuo Heiwajima’s girlfriend and possibly future wife.

TarouTanaka: Shizuo Heiwajima? As in THE Shizuo Heiwajima? Do you know the violent one? 

Kanra: That’s so scary!! Who would put up with him? 

Kanra: *Gasps* you don’t think. . .

TarouTanaka: Think what? 

Kanra: You don’t think she’s using him do you? I mean, having a strong boyfriend has its perks right? 

Setton: She’s not that type of person.

Setton: From what I’ve heard, at least.

Kanra: Oh? You seem to get a bit defensive. Are you sure you don’t know her? 

Kanra: I mean, think about it. What is so special about Shizuo that would lead someone like her to love him? 

Kanra: Honestly, I think she could be using him after all I’m sure there are more people that someone like her could pick from. 

Setton: Well everything is just based on rumors, but I doubt she’s a bad type of person.

Setton: Love has always been a confusing matter. All that matters is that they like each other for who they are.

Setton: It’s not our place to make assumptions.

Kanra: Love is indeed confusing. 

TarouTanaka: I agree with Setton, I am sure they love each other for who they are. Is everything alright Kanra? 

Kanra: Yes, but it still stumps me on how little information we have of his girlfriend. Not only that but we have little information on the relationship as well. Has anyone seen her? Know what she looks like? 

Setton: I’ve only heard a vague description of her: (e/c) and (h/c). I could pass her on the street and not even know.

Setton: But I’m sure she’s just a private person. We should respect that and try not to dig into her life.

Kanra: Oh fair maiden will I ever see you?

TarouTanaka: You sure you aren’t trying to steal his girlfriend? 

Kanra: ^ 0 ^ Never! 

Setton: This has been an interesting discussion and all, but I’m needed elsewhere.

Setton: Later.

< - - - - - - - - - - - - - > 

SETTON HAS LEFT THE CHAT

Kanra: Well I better head out too, later Tarou! 

TarouTanaka: Later! 

< - - - - - - - - - - - - - >

KANRA HAS LEFT THE CHAT.

TAROUTANAKA HAS LEFT THE CHAT. 

THERE IS NO ONE IN THE CHAT. 

A figure began to ponder and look outside with a pair of binoculars as a female with (e/c) and (h/c) walked by. 

‘ Oh? I think I should properly introduce myself to the fair maiden’ 

~~ 

The young girl walked out of her house ready to speak with the dullahan. Upon seeing the headless rider the young girl waved her hand signaling the rider. 

“ Celty! Over here!” 

The rider began to make its way to the female before hugging and typing away on its phone. 

“Oh good, I was worried I arrived too early.”

“ Nah! Even if you did, you would have more time to look around and notice life at it’s finest!” 

“Oh Y/N, still as cheerful as ever, huh?”

“ Oh, you know it! Now let's head to the park! I want to see Ikebukuro at its prime time at night!” 

“Of course, but as we’re walking let me ask: How’s it going between you and Shizuo?”

“ Well. . . I-I-I I think it’s going great! He isn’t getting as rowdy and violent so I think he is changing a little bit! He ended getting me a gift, a necklace to be exact for our 5th anniversary! It says his name! He also has one, one with my name!”  

“I’m glad to hear you guys are going great. I’m sure that nothing could ever break your relationship, right?” 

“ Exactly! He and I have never had a serious argument! Maybe a little scolding but it’s fine like this! I always end up congratulating him in the end! He is the sweetest! Every time he comes home he asks me if I love him which makes me sad because I hope he knows I do! However. . . he always ends up spoiling me in love! The real question. . . is how is it with Shinra?” 

“Oh. . . Well, you know how he is. We’re as close as we can ever be, especially now that I’m more accustomed to the whole headless thing. That doesn’t mean I’m not looking, though.”

“ You will find it Celty! I know for a fact you will find it! I’ll help you when I have time! Hey look it’s the park let’s find a bench!” 

[park bench scene]

“You know, Y/N, I heard that you and Shizuo were considering getting married. Is it true?”

“ Well, I-!?” 

“ Well, Celty! I didn’t know you were here? (Y/N) too! What a surprise too! Do you mind if I sit with you guys?” 

“ Well, not really! Feel free to sit Izaya!” 

“ Interesting, now continue what were we talking about?” 

“ Well, Celty asked about my marriage to Shizuo!” 

“ So it’s true. . .” 

“ Yeah! Celty we are! Sometime next week we were going to look for dresses!” 

“That’s wonderful Y/N! If you need anything, I’m always available to help.”

“ Of course!” 

“ Same here.  . . a wedding between Shizu-chan and (Y/N) seems interesting. . .” 

“ So (Y/N), why are you with Shizu-chan? What’s the catch?” 

“ Pardon Izaya?” 

“ I mean, why would someone like YOU be with someone like HIM? What are the perks of having Shizu-chan as your boyfriend?” 

“ Perks?!” 

“I know that you and Shizuo have an on-going rivalry, but should you be asking Y/N questions like that?” 

“ I was just curious Celty! Besides, do you have the answer?” 

“ Well, there are no perks.” 

“ Huh?” 

“ I love Shizuo, not for his strength or perks. I love him because he was kind to me. He accepts my optimistic side, even though it can be quite annoying and I accept his violent tendencies! He is doing so much to change and I will support him from now on! When we met, he kinda beat the entire team on the field and I apologized for the both of him! He got confused and I apologized for my behavior and we kinda got into a mini battle of him asking me to stop apologizing and well my apologizing even more! Nonetheless, I missed the train, but it gave me a chance to talk to him and as you can tell he walked me home! Since then, a steady relationship! So it’s not about the benefits, it’s what we feel for each other that motivates us!” 

“ Interesting. . . “  

“ I agree Y/N, it’s about love, not benefits. Might want to save a speech that profounds for your wedding though.

“ You’re right! Oh, I’m sorry Izaya for ruining the surprise!” 

‘ Interesting. . . she isn’t like every other human, she doesn’t seem to lie, hide things, and seems to be honest. She seems to be optimistic. Hmph, interesting that she isn’t like all the other humans I love, she’s different and I can’t wait to see her face, her entire being change as I pull the strings from behind! (Y/N), you are quite interesting, you are like my special, no my favorite human and I need to see your reactions to everything... .’ 

“ (Y/N)?” 

“ Ah, Shizuo! O-over here!” 

“ Celty’s here too and-?!” 

Shizuo stared at the black-haired male with such anger raging within them as he let out a growl before examining the area. 

“ IZAYA! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?!” 

“ It’s a park? Am I not allowed to visit one?” 

“ IT’S WHO YOU’RE WITH THAT MATTERS! (Y/N) DID HE TOUCH YOU OR HURT YOU IN ANY WAY?” 

“ N-no! Shizuo we were only just talking! Besides, Celty was here with us! It was all friendly talk!” 

“ Celty, take (Y/N) and go to Shinra’s place. I’ll meet you there once I finish killing this bastard!” 

Typing away Celty nodded showing her phone with the message being, ‘Of course. Be careful before doing anything crazy, but please hear Y/N out first. Learn a bit about the situation before jumping into anything dangerous.”

“ Oh my Shizu-chan!~ So you are dating her. Isn’t that interesting. . . I say though it’s shocking, to say the least, that someone like (Y/N) would fall in love with you. Someone as fragile, beautiful, delicate, and forgiving like (Y/N) with a violent man as yourself, well I’d be damned!” 

“ I’m sorry! Izaya, I apologize for Shizuo’s behavior as he ended up attacking you without hearing my part, which I still have yet to say! However, I apologize on your part as well Izaya as you didn’t mean anything by chatting with us, but you asked some not so nice things. On the bright side, you know the truth and know that Shizuo isn’t a bad person!” 

“ (Y/N) . . .?” 

“ Shizuo! Celty and I were chatting when Izaya approached us, we were just talking! He didn’t hurt me, besides Celty would have put him in his place before I would have! Please believe me, Celty tell him the truth as well!” 

“Of course, there was nothing suspicious going on. Just a regular conversation full of small talk. Nothing shady or malicious between us and Izaya.”

“ Tch. Fine, but still take her to Shinra. I don’t want this bastard to find out where we live. I still want to kill him. . .” 

“ S-Shizuo! It’s fine, we don’t need to go see Shinra!” 

“ Aww, Shizu-chan you’re scaring her!~ Besides, what if (Y/N) doesn’t want to leave? You’re her boyfriend but you aren’t her owner. Besides, why do you get to keep her all to yourself, as you know I love humans, I can’t get enough of them! But she, she is quite interesting, as all humans I love her as well but aren’t you pushing it Shizuo chan?” 

“ Keep that damn mouth of yours shut!” 

“ I wonder, how long will it take you to screw up your relationship with her like you always do. Have you even proposed to her yet? Being the violent person you are you probably used someone's body as a foot stand before asking her to be your wife!” 

“ NO! That’s wrong! He proposed at Russia Sushi! We went out to eat as it was also our first date! See, even Simon took the picture and hung it in the dining area! You can see Shizuo’s fist but that was because he was embarrassed Simon took a picture and well he snapped, see how red he is? I’m the one crying in the background while holding the ring! It’s even my lock and home screen!” 

“ YOU DON’T NEED TO GO THAT FAR! WAIT-HE HAS IT HANGED? I NEED TO KILL THIS MAN FIRST THAN YOU DAMN IZAYA!” 

“ NO NOT SIMON! WAIT SHIZUO!” 

Running after Shizuo, (Y/N)  turned around one last time before bowing apologetically and smiling at Izaya before running after her fiance. Celty typing away on her phone showing it to Izaya. 

“Be careful about what you say around Y/N. I know what you’re trying to do and I advise you against it. It won’t end well for either of you.”

“ Whatever do you mean Celty?” 

“I’ve seen the way you look at Y/N; the way you observe her with that calculated glee in your eye. Even if you do separate her from Shizuo, she wouldn’t be happy with someone considered a homewrecker. She’s too optimistic for her good, she’ll easily forgive you, but she would never be able to forgive herself for hurting Shizuo. If you truly value her like you say you do, don’t try to meddle in her personal affairs.” 

“ I want to see every possible reaction from her, so this is quite tempting. Besides, Celty why do you care much about her? I love humans and I’m not willing to share, (Y/N) is no exception.” 

“Y/N is the best person I know. She’s kind no matter what and brings hope and joy to all of those that she comes across. She deserves to live the best life she can, one filled with no despair or tragedy. You need to learn to respect that and move on.”

Celty, displaying her anger towards Izaya, revved her motorcycle upwards causing several people to look in worry and walk away to avoid getting hit. Izaya stood unamused with his smug grin as he watched Celty chase after the couple to take them to Shinra. 

“ Celty, it’s a shame. All humans will experience despair no matter what, even our darling (Y/N). It’s just how long will it take for her to fall into despair that’s the real game and who the one pulling the strings will be.” 

Izaya began to walk away only to stop at Russia sushi and was quite intrigued by the photo that was taken. As he began to examine the image he saw (Y/N) smiling with tears rolling down her eyes as she turned to the camera holding the ring Shizuo had given her. On top of that, he saw Shizuo, quite red ready to punch Simon for taking the picture. 

“ Well well, seems she was telling the truth. I guess he didn’t screw it up.” 

“ Izaya, I heard about what happened.” 

As Izaya turned he was met with Simon the dark-skinned Russian who began to speak in his native tongue signaling that this was a private conversation. 

“ Simon, how’s it been?” 

“ Don’t ruin it.” 

“ Ruin what Simon?” 

“ Shizuo and (Y/N) found happiness here so don’t ruin it.” 

“ Oh? What makes you say that?” 

“ (Y/N) is special, the unpredictable happens around her but that doesn’t mean you should ruin what they have for the sake of your entertainment.” 

“ Special huh?” 

“ You like her don’t you? Leave her with Shizuo, she is not meant for you.” 

“ You see Simon, you’re right she is special but she isn’t Shizuo’s. I believe her to be one of the few people who aren’t on this playing field. She, like all humans, belongs to me. I won’t let Shizu-chan, Celty, or even that damn Saika blade have her.” 

“ Izaya, I know you don’t like losing to Shizuo but that does not mean you have to ruin this relationship. For once, let it go.” 

“ It’s Shizuo who needs to let her go.” 

With that Izaya left the place before walking away thinking about the girl. Since he met her years ago he realized how forgiving and optimistic she truly was. It shocked him, every human he met would be the same and oh so predictable. Shizu-chan and Simon would be the unpredictable ones spicing up his entertainment but (Y/N)? She was the most unpredictable one of them all. She took both sides of an argument and attempted to find a solution and she would keep Shizuo in check something that no one could do. On top of that, (Y/N) forgave anyone and you could never guess what she would say next, but her actions were always surprising. As he entered his workplace he was met with Namie Yagiri who looked at him in disbelief. 

“ It’s late where have you been?” 

“ Ah, Namie I was out with Celty and (Y/N) (L/N).” 

“ (Y/N) (L/N)?” 

“ Shizuo Heiwajima’s girlfriend, well fiance but not for long.” 

“ What do you mean, not for long?” 

“ Well you see, I intend to steal her away.” 

“ You never seem to bother with people’s love lives anyways. Why now?” 

“ (Y/N) (L/N) is a fascinating human! Here on this board, Shizu-Chan is the king and (Y/N (L/N) would be his queen, but the queen is one of the few people with free-range movement, in other words, the most powerful piece, nonetheless all are useful but the queen is the one who defends her king. If the queen is removed you’re pretty much set to fail and the king is left weak and ready to be dethroned. So, Shizu-chan is only strong with his queen, but this fascinating human being should be next to me, her God!” 

“ So you want to use her-!?” 

“ No! You’re not getting the picture! I am going to take the queen and leave her next to her god’s side! ME! With Shizu-chan weak I’ll simply kill him and fully take (Y/N) (L/N) as mine!” 

“ I thought Shizuo provided you with the most entertainment. . .” 

“ (Y/N) makes up for both of them, I don’t need Shizuo when I have his queen. . .” 

~~ 

“ Shizuo! Wait!” 

Shizuo was walking faster while dragging (Y/N) behind him as they proceeded to go to their house after staying at Shinra’s. 

“ What for?” 

“ I’m sorry for embarrassing you in front of Izaya. . .” 

“ I’m fine, as long as it was you I didn’t mind.” 

“ You sure?” 

“ Of course, now let’s go home. I’m tired.” 

‘“O-Okay!” 

As they entered the home in which they both own Shizuo immediately grabbed (Y/N) as he held her close before asking her yet again, “ Do you love me?” 

“ Of course silly! I wouldn’t marry someone I don’t love! I love you to the moon and back Shizuo and I wouldn’t change that for the world! No one and nothing would ever split us apart Shizuo! You accepted me for who I am, now it’s time you realize that I accept you for you!” 

Cuddling closer with the (h/c) hair colored female he blurted out something that made her turn red upon hearing it. 

“ I want a baby.” 

“ A WHAT?!” 

“ A baby. I hope to be able to be a father once we wed.” 

“ W-w-w-w-what g-g-g-gave you that idea?!” 

“ We are both at a young age, once we marry I feel like we should have a child. I won’t rush or force you but I think we would be great parents.” 

“I...OKAY! Of course! After we marry, we can have as many children as we can!” 

“ W-Wait you serious?!” 

“ Of course Shizuo, because I love you to bits! Just like I will love this child, I'll make sure you both know how special you are to me!” 

“ I do wonder how I found someone like you (Y/N). . . I love you!” 

“ I love you too Shizuo!” 

As they both fell asleep in a lovers embrace Shizuo was reminded of how much (Y/N) loves him and was also reminded that she will never leave him. Izaya was wrong, (Y/N) loves him for himself and as Shizuo sighed in relief as he cuddled closer to the female, not being feared, but being loved was a great feeling, the best in the world. 

~~ 

“ Now. . . what should I make for dinner? I should make Shizuo’s favorite meal, but that means that I need to go shopping. Oh well.” 

(Y/N) pulled out her phone before sending Shizuo a quick text saying how she would be stepping out and would be home soon. After getting an, ‘alright. Be safe.’ text she immediately set out to the store. As (Y/N) was searching through the ingredients she came across a hand reaching for the same one, the last one. 

“ Oh, I’m sorry! You can take it!” 

“ No, no that fine! By all means, take it.” 

“ Izaya... .?’ 

“ Ah! (Y/N)! Isn’t that wonderful? I wanted to speak to you!” 

“ Same! Just let me finish shopping and I’ll go with you!” 

“ Here! I’ll help, by the way! Feel free to take it, I don’t need that ingredient as much as you do.” 

“ Thanks! Are you sure you don’t want it though, I’m making a meal for Shizuo but I can always go to other stores! If you want it you should take it! On the bright side, I can get my daily walk in by going to other stores and I might be able to browse through other items I may need!” 

“ Oh? A meal for Shizu-chan? Then, by all means, take it. I wouldn’t want to make him upset.” 

“ Thank you Izaya! You really care for him!” 

“ Well, I wouldn’t say that. .  . “

“ Well, we should get going! I think I got everything I needed!” 

Walking to the park in silence was a little awkward until (Y/N) lit up at the sight of ice cream. 

“ Hey Izaya, look it’s an ice cream truck! Do you want some? My treat!” 

“ Actually, it will be mine! Which one do you want (Y/N)?” 

“ (F/F) please!” 

“ Of course!” 

Upon getting the ice cream ( Y/N) desired and Izaya getting one for himself they decided to sit on a bench and she continued speaking with Izaya. 

“ Izaya, I have a question.” 

“What is it (Y/N)?” 

“ Well, why do you like edging Shizuo on? You know he is trying his hardest to change, wait, is it to push him? To see how much he needs to improve left?” 

“ You really are optimistic aren’t you? Not exactly, you see Shizuo tends to act differently from the rest. . . he truly is unpredictable so I just want to see every possible reaction from him. Just like you?” 

“ Me? I hardly think I'm unpredictable, I feel like you could read me easily.” 

“ You can’t and that’s the best part. I truly love all humans (Y/N), they are just so interesting! In the end, they all act the same yet it’s so exciting!” 

“ Interesting. You like the unpredictable more though right! I do too! It’s like a book, if you can predict the way it ends then it isn’t all the fun. However, if the book ends with a plot twist and catches you by surprise then it is fun! Every new day, every new day is something different for me! I feel like, when you look at a new angle you end up seeing things you’ve never seen. This could easily impact what you think or what you do! That’s what I try to do to make my day more interesting!” 

Izaya looking at her with insanity swirling his eyes grabbed her hands causing her ice cream to fall before laughing. 

“ You understand me! You see what I see! You truly do deserve to be next to your god's side! Tell me (Y/N), you’re very forgiving, aren’t you! Every god needs to judge and punish the sinners, BUT THEY ALSO NEED TO FORGIVE! THAT MY GODDESS IS WHERE YOU COME IN! WITH YOU BY MY SIDE, WE COULD TRULY RULE OVER THESE HUMANS! JUST AS I LOVE HUMANS, THEY SHOULD LOVE ME TOO! THAT INCLUDES YOU (Y/N), DO YOU LOVE ME?” 

“ I-?!” 

“ That’s enough!” 

Turning to Celty who began to write furiously fast on her phone shoved it in front of Izaya as he skimmed the words that were written. 

‘Shizuo is on his way, leave if you don’t want your ass kicked. I told you to leave (Y/N) alone! For once, listen to me!’ 

Celty grabbed (Y/N) and led her to the motorcycle before writing on it explaining that Shizuo was around the area and was planning on picking (Y/N) up from the store. Celty mentioned that she too was around the area and that she was asked by Shizuo to help him look for her as well. Nodding, (Y/N) turned around to meet Izaya smirking, despite all she smiled at him and bowed before apologizing. 

“ I’m sorry Izaya! I hope to talk to you soon and I apologize our time was cut short. I’m happy that you told me a little about yourself Izaya as I told you I like to see both perspectives before saying or doing anything. On the bright side, although our time was cut short I realized that you trust me a little and bothered to open up a bit! So I'm glad!” 

Indeed Izaya found his Goddess, she forgave all and will forgive all. Smiling a bit he turned and wished her good-bye before plotting a plan to take her from Shizuo forever and make sure his goddess was with him all the time. Besides, even if he committed a crime, his goddess, (Y/N) (L/N) would forgive him. 

(Y/N) was riding with Celty until they found Shizuo in which he expressed his concern for the female. He examined the ingredients and smiled realizing what she was planning on doing before ruffling her hair. 

 “ I still have a little bit of work left but I'll make it home in time for dinner.” 

“ Of course! I’ll get started on dinner right away!” 

“ Alright. See you then, oh (Y/N).” 

“ Yeah?” 

“ I love you.” 

“ I love you too!” 

~~ 

Getting out of the shower, (Y/N) proceeded to dry her hair with a small towel wearing (F/C) shorts and an extremely overgrown shirt, more importantly, it was Shizuo’s bartender shirt that he allowed her to wear. It fit more like a dress but no one was complaining. 

“ I better get started on dinner, Shizuo is going to arrive any minute!” 

Proceeding to get the ingredients (Y/N) was washing the vegetables when she heard a click signaling the door was open. 

“ Shizuo I’m not done with the meal-... Shizuo... .?” 

Examining the living room she noticed that the door was opened but no one was in the room with her, that was until she heard a familiar voice from her right ear. 

“ Good evening, My goddess. . .” 

“Iza-!?” 

With that Izaya knocked out (Y/N) cradling her in his arms before making his way to him home with the young girl, his Goddess.  

~ 

“ Wake up sleeping beauty~” 

Izaya was poking her cheek repeatedly hoping for the young girl to awaken sometime soon and luckily she did. 

“ Izaya, w-where a-am I?” 

“ Why you’re in our home my goddess~” 

“O-our? Goddess? Izaya what’s going on?” 

“ You will be living with me from now on~ You see I explained it to you, I love humans my dear (Y/N), you are no exception. However, unlike all the other humans you have an interesting personality and you are quite unpredictable making each new day exciting and something to look forward to! Someone like you should be by my side ruling alongside next to me! Just as I adore humans, they should adore us, as they should!” 

“ I-Izaya I’m sorry but it’s late and I need to get to Shizuo before it gets too late-!?” 

“ You aren’t getting it! You aren’t going back to Shizuo! You belong to me! Besides, Shizuo is weak right now! I could easily get rid of him!” 

“ He isn’t! Shizuo is quite strong! I know for a fact that he can overcome anything! Now, please let me go before I-!?” 

“ You aren’t seeing the big picture (Y/N) and it saddens me. You see the queen is the strongest piece in chess. Shizu-chan is the king and you by right, are his queen. If we take the queen away, the king is set up to fail. Haven’t you realized, everyday Shizu-chan asks you if you love him and to never leave him? Coincidence I know? I always make him doubt of this reality because without you Shizu-chan would be a violent monster! Think about it, you’re the only thing that can hold him back but you aren’t by his side! Shizu-chan does not want to be feared but he thinks it’s a fantasy, someone like you being in his life that he just needs to confirm if you love him too!” 

(Y/N) gasped when she came to notice her fiance's true feelings. Feeling down, (Y/N) looked to the side to examine the board Izaya kept close to see if she could find a pattern or attempt to figure Izaya out to create a plan.   

“ In fact! I think he is worried sick trying to find you, but he won’t! Even if he does, he doesn’t have the right to take my Goddess away!” 

In the meantime, Shizuo was frantically searching for where (Y/N) could be. When he arrived home he came to see the door open and no sign of (Y/N) causing his anxiety to spike up at the thought of losing you forever. Having enough he texted Celty and even the dollars home page alerting all members to keep an eye out on a female with (H/C) and (E/C) as she could be in danger. 

“ Celty! Have you found her yet?” 

“ No.... but I think I know where she is. I hope she isn’t though. . . “ 

“ Spit it out! WHERE THE HELL IS SHE?!” 

Shizuo was running out of breath as he looked at Celty with desperation as he saw her type away with incredible speed, but the answer both shook him and angered him to the point of no return. 

“ I think she is with Izaya. If so, we must hurry!” 

“ Of course! Leave this to me. . . I think it’s time that bastard met with his fate.” 

Shizuo walked away with anger as he began to prepare his fist to execute the man who stole his fiance.

IZAYA ENDING w/SMUT

SHIZUO ENDING

[baby-dr1ver]

Hi!! Im really loving your writing! I was wondering if I can request a jealous little!reader with daddy!din? 😳 I'm in the mood for something sweet but angsty 😖

- 💌

ANON!!! sorry this took so long :( we've been struggling. I've been thinking about this for awhile-

Pairing: daddy!din x little!reader

Rating/Warnings: angst, crying, mean humans, sweet Din, oblivious Din

Imagine how oblivous Din would be. He wouldn't even realize that merchant was even flirting with him, he just wanted some fruit. But you, you saw it all, and you were fuming. How dare she touch YOUR daddy??? You walked straight up to Din and grabbed one ig, gloved finger and stomped.

"Hi sweet pea, everything okay?" Din would question. You would only glare at the girl who was trying to steal your daddy. "Mine" You whispered out, and looked at Din, seeing the familiar head title of comfusion.

"Oh my, is this your daughter? She's cute, you should ditch her later and come see me" The merchant said in a sultry voice. "Uhmexcuse me! I'm not his daughter," You exclaimed with another stomp. The merchant scoffed, "As if he'd ever date someone like you, you not even that pretty, just a pathetic dumb baby." That's what got you. Tears stung your eyes, and you turned around and ran right back tot the ship, not turning back when you heard Din call out for you.

You made it back and were ready to collapse. "She was a meanie" You say to the empty ship. You cried for a couple of minutes before you tired yourself out, and slept on the floor where you sat.

That's where Din found you, slumped over on the floor, tear tracks stained your face. He came around and crouched so he could reach you. He reached his hand out and moved a stray hair from your face, "Little love, wake up" He gently said trying not to startle you. He nudged your face a little before you started to stir. You opened your eyes and a wave of sadness hit you, "Go away" You said in the angriest tone you coukd muster. Din pulled his hand away and took off his helmet to look in your eyes. "Now swet girl, why would you say that huh? That's not very nice."

"Daddy doesn't want me anymore, just a dumb baby" You mumbled out. That's when it hit Din, all those things that girl said, you thought they were true? You really thought he didn't want you anymore?

"Sweet girl, look at me," And you did. "Daddy loves you so much. I will always want to be here with you, have you by my side for as long as you'll have me. Your my sweet girl, my babygirl, your my tiny baby. Not a dumb baby, a tiny baby who is very smart, and beautiful, energetic, and sweet, and kind, and loving. I could go on and on about you sweet girl. No matter people say, I will always love you, and cherish you, and I would never thibk of you any other way, okay?" As Din wrapped his speech up, you were further into little space than you thought. You started to sob, and threw your arms around his neck. "Dada!" You wailed over and over. "Ssshhh little love, your okay" Din continued to soothe you, saying calming words, rubbing your back, and your head.

You finally calmed down enough, your sobs turned to hiccups, and your eyes started to droop. Din turned his head to see you, and he sae just how exhausted you were. "You okay now sweet pea?" You hummed. "wuv" You mumbled. To far gone to form sentences. To far gone into your daddy's warm embrace, soothing words, you were just lost in everything Din.

Din gave a sweet smile, "I love you too my sweet girl"

[starglow-xx]

retrouvaille

nakajima atsushi x f!reader

fandom: bungou stray dogs

content: hurt comfort, fluff

warning! : mentions of abuse

type of work: one-shot

synopsis: he left the orphanage, and that meant he had to leave you too; fortunately, this time, it seems like the universe was on your side

a/n: this is kinda self indulgent bc ive been feeling kinda down lately...?? and this has been sitting in my drafts for a while now and i havent posted in a while so killing three birds w/ one stone ig

the word retrouvaille is a french noun...

The moment you stepped foot into the armed detective agency, heterochromia eyes met your (e/c) ones.

You notice several agents talking and walking over to assist you, but you drown them out only having focus on the gray haired male ten feet away from you.

Said male takes a small step forward with uncertainty and disbelief laced in his voice.

“(y-y/n)...?” 

At the sound of your name, your eyes immediately begin to water and with pure relief in your voice, you softly sob his name; the name of the boy who comforted you when you were both still in that wretched place.

“Atsushi...”

With all hesitation gone, Atsushi runs over to you shoving through his surprised and confused coworkers and wraps his arms tightly around you.

The force of the hug causes the both of you to stumble and harshly crash to the ground beneath you.

But the two of you didn’t care.

In his arms was a person Atsushi thought he’d never be able to see again.

In his arms was the same girl who snuck him food from the kitchens, the girl who stole medical supplies from the infirmary to treat his wounds, to take care of him when he was sick, and the girl who received punishment after punishment for insisting on staying with him inside his damn cell.

You gave him happiness in place where he should’ve never been able to receive it.

As if he ever felt like he deserved it in the first place.

You’re too good for him, but yet you still chose him.

You, his sweet and kind, his so very kind, and so very beautiful girlfriend, chose him, the cursed, good for nothing orphan.

The orphanage staff treated you considerably better before the two of you were acquainted, so Atsushi knew he was the problem. That he was the reason why tears would fall onto your beautiful face, why bruises and scars would litter your arms and legs, and why the staff would call you awful, degrading nicknames about you and or your virtue.

He had always thought that he wasn’t good for you, that he didn’t deserve you, that you could do better, but you stayed by his side regardless of his fears and insecurities, and provided him the strength and comfort he had always been deprived of.

And to his very surprise, he found that you found your own strength and comfort in him.

So he knew that you must of cried for weeks after he was kicked out, that you must’ve been devastated to wake up one morning only to learn that he was gone without a trace.

There wasn’t a single day that he never thought of you.

Atsushi wanted to go back for you, he really did; he wanted to storm into the orphanage with members of the armed detective agency, his new family, right at his tail before eventually reuniting with you.

But he didn’t do that.

Ultimately, he chose to leave you out of the mess that came with his job knowing that you would be eventually targeted and used against him if anyone found out about what he had with you.

So he kept quiet.

No mafioso, government agent, foreign organization, nor agency member had a clue about your connection with him, much less your existence.

He told himself that when things have calmed down by a considerable amount, he would go back and get you, with or without the agency backing him up.

Unfortunately, he knew that time of peace was far from the present.

But to see you, in your beautiful glory, standing at the threshold of the agency? 

His original plan to keep you away from Yokohoma flew out the damn window. 

At the sight of you, his heart did backflips and his legs almost gave out. 

Ignoring the jelly feeling in his legs and the loud pounding of his heart, he raced around the desks and his coworkers—nearly fully crashing into Dazai in the process—to once more engulf you into his arms.

As for you?

When you saw him, you felt like you were going to pass out.

Your legs grew weak, your entire body was shaking, and tears started to fall down your face.

He was here.

He was safe and he was alive.

You mourned his abrupt disappearance from the orphanage and spent most of your time worrying about his well being.

The staff thought you were pathetic, that you sulked and cried over someone who they thought should disappear off the face of the earth.

They could insult and beat you all you want, but you drew the line when it came to Atsushi.

Finally having enough of everything, you planned your escape.

You were patient; you never jumped the gun nor gave anything away. You planned everything to the very last, minute detail, and after a few more months of abuse and waiting, you put your plan into action and left in the dead of night.

Thankfully, a kind old couple took you after you had collapsed in the streets. You worked job after job after job to return everything they had spent on your behalf even after they had told you not to worry about it.

And after another few weeks, you finally caught wind of your lost boyfriend tracking him down to Yokohoma through an old newspaper article.

Knowing your boyfriend, and yourself, you knew that tears would easily escape both of your eyes due to the long duration of your separation, but you weren’t expecting to find yourself crashing onto the floors of the armed detective agency curtesy of Atsushi. 

But, you wouldn’t have it any other way because in your arms was the boy who gave you comfort during the most darkest days in the orphanage, the boy who laid you in his lap or on his stomach stroking your hair so you would fall asleep, and the boy who often threw himself in front of you so you would remain unharmed.

You choked on your sobs as you tightened your own hold on him and they gradually grew louder as you buried your face into the shoulder of his white button up.

Through his own choked sobs and teary eyes, Atsushi gently maneuvered the two of you so that you would be lying on his stomach—a familiar position the two of you would lay in back in the orphanage.

He gently stroked his fingers through your hair and softly rubbed your back as he whispered the familiar sweet nothings into your ears.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

“I’m okay, you’re okay, we’re okay...”

“I’m here, just let it all out..”

Overwhelmed with your emotions, his sweet words only started to make you cry more.

You’ve missed him so much.

Your tears easily soaked his both his shirt and his neck, and you tried to speak only for you to choke up. Atsushi simply just started to shush you—as you would to a baby—and placed a kiss to your forehead as he continued to comfortingly stroke your hair and rub your back.

With the both of you off into your own little world, a world consisting only of the two of you, reactions and looks from the Armed Detective Agency went unnoticed.

It didn’t take long for them to realize the kind of relationship you and Atsushi had.

But what surprised them was Atsushi’s behavior.

The young adult they knew tended to be unsure of everything, including himself, and stammered whenever he was nervous.

But the young adult currently in front of them had this new aura of maturity; he didn’t hesitate to touch you or to comfort you, and for the first time they’ve seen in a while, he was sure of himself; he wasn’t nervous at all.

With the amount of comfortability Atsushi had around you, and the tender, loving care he showered you in, it was clear that you certainly were someone special to their tiger.

Your sobs slowly turned to small hiccups, and Atsushi’s face turned to one of pure tranquility and content, having his lover back in his arms.

Although having calmed down, what Atsushi said to you next made you want to start bawling all over again.

“I’m sorry I left you, and I promise I didn’t forget about you,” he whispered softly, “I thought of you every day. I still do. The thought of being able to see you again is what kept me going.”

You buried yourself further into his shoulder as you gripped his white button up in your hands.

“And thanks to the armed detective agency, I’m stronger now. I won’t let anybody hurt you, not anymore. That, I promise you.”

Actually taking a look up from you, Atsushi ended up locking eyes with Dazai, who had a gentle look on his face.

His senior only closed his eyes, tilted his head down softly, and lightly chuckled before opening his brown eyes once more, giving Atsushi a look of approval.

The gray haired teen’s eyes widened slightly as he looked around the room only to be met with similar looks of approval and gentleness from his seniors and coworkers.

He felt his eyes tear up again, but instead let out a relieved sigh as he tightened his hold on you slightly.

“Hey Atsushi...” you softly murmured.

Equally as soft, he answered, “Yes (y/n)?”

“...I love you...”

Your lover smiled before placing another kiss onto your forehead.

“I love you too (y/n)”

At last, the girl he loved was back in his arms, and the boy you loved was back within your reach.

And neither of you were ever going to let each other go again.

and it means, the joy of meeting or finding someone again after a long separation, a rediscovery

as always, reblogs and shares are appreciated! i hope you all stay safe! and just in case nobody told you they loved you today, i love you! you are enough! <3

writing belongs to me! please do not plagiarize! the reblog button is there for a reason

[jessiebanethedragon]

I Just Have to Get This Off My Chest

Din x Reader (SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 15) 

is the title the title of the fic or is it the explanation as to way i wrote this instead of the three essay’s i have due soon. Who knows? certainly not me. 

You had not felt well for some time. Every moment that was not distracted by something else allowed you to feel the pooling sickness in your stomach. Grogu was gone. 

You had cried only in private, hidden away in the forest of Tython, covering your tears with your hands and sobbing into the ground. Din had never felt so powerless, when you finally re-emerged from the wooded area, he said nothing of the invasion of privacy he’d committed via the sensors on his helmet. Instead he walked up the ramp of Slave I with you to leave the cursed planet. Maybe, you were thankful for Mayfeld’s incessant chatter. It gave you something to focus on other than the missing warmth in your heart that was occupied by the little green creature. 

“You still with us?” he asked, turning around and waving a hand over your face. It snaps you back to the moment, but the guilty feeling does not fade completely.  

“Yeah,” You breathe. And finally relent, pulling off the helmet for fresh air. Din turns his head ever so slightly to catch the way your hair becomes messy. “Focus.” he reprimands Mayfeld, you almost feel bad for the guy, you're both so on edge he’s driving with ticking time bombs, and that’s without the Rhydonium.

“Where.” Din demands, roughly pressing his hands into the gaps between the baggy fitting armor. One of the pirates landed a solid blow to your side and the mandalorian wont let it go. 

“Mando i’m fine.” You tell him, huffing when his hands get rougher trying to feel underneath the crappy empire issues durasteel. 

“Where did you get hit.” He demands again, hands landing on your shoulders and shaking you slightly. Mayfeld is right, Din is desperate. 

“Din…” You whisper side glancing to make sure prying ears are out of reach. “I’m okay, I promise.” You wonder for a second if you should put your forehead against his, something he’d done after the fight with Moff Gideon, after you thought you’d never see him again. You remember seeing him limp down with IG-11, barely alive in the darkness. You remember running to him without thinking twice, the stupid, stupid, mandalorian who would rather die than break his creed. The stupid mandalorian you know now you cannot live without. 

“Hey, you two might want to stop acting like a couple of DUM - Pit Droids because we’ve got a problem.” Mayfeld says jogging over to you both. 

“What.” Din snaps the unfamiliar hemet turning to the man at hand. You hate how it looks on him, it is strange, unfamiliar, so un-him that you’re longing for him to get the Beskar back on. 

“I can’t go in there.” He says gesturing behind him. “That’s Valin Hess, I served under him, I'll be recognized.”  You lean over to look at the officer, and then behind you into the open area. 

“The officers' quarters are close enough.” You think aloud. “Stay here, I'll drop a detonator. Distract them.” 

“No way you can make the trip without being caught.” Mayfeld argues. 

“Hey, I used to do this professionally. Let me handle it.” You tell him with a small smile, this is herding Bantha’s compared to your old job. 

“Kriffing spy’s” Mayfeld murmurs. 

“As far as the empire is concerned I’m still an official agent.” You correct him, and you turn to leave but a gloved hand wraps around your wrist, his iron grapes holding you back. You look at the unfamiliar mask, and slowly, Din loosens his hold and watches you go.

The hallways are always the same, no matter how many planets, or ships you were stationed on, the empire always looked the same, your boots always made the same sounds, and an uncaught rebel-spy always knew where she was going. Order, Mayfelds voice echoes in your mind, yes there is order here. But Grogu isn’t. And that’s what matters to you right now, nothing else but the poor child that you’d had the fortune stumbling upon on a Navaro recon mission. You praise your own inability to let go of the past, for without it you never would’ve been investigating the imperial outpost, never would have met a cold mandalorian and never learnt that he, in fact, burned brighter than any kyber crystal in the galaxy. 

The detonator rolls smoothly from your hand as you turn away from the barracks. Jogging back to the control center a soft smile on your face as the hiss and pop sends the familiar signals blaring. When the coast is clear you don’t stop running until you slide into the mess hall, and stop dead in your tracks. 

Din is gone. 

Mayfeld is standing over at least half a dozen bodies, save for one man who’s back is to you.  Your blood freezes when you make the realization as the helmetless man turns towards you. He has brown hair, and you can see where the helmet has ruffled his curls. The slight scruff highlights his face, and draws you in towards his eyes. His wonderful brown eyes. 

It’s the mandalorian. It’s your Mandalorian. 

You know you should close your eyes, but they can’t move from his, so many nights on the razor crest were spent wondering about the colour of his eyes.

“You ever seen his face?” The memory of Mayfeld in a different place at a different time floods you. The way he teased about how close you and the mandalorian couldn’t be, because you didn’t know what he looked like. Pressing you against the bars of the prison they’d trapped him in, laughing when you couldn’t even give them a name. Taunting your own life in front of you at the end of a blaster. “She doesn’t know!” Xi’an sneered as you fought against Qin pinning you into the bars, using you as a tool in his revenge.  It is as if you are meeting him for the first time again, the man in shiny beskar who had whispered his name to you after the incident involving Mayfeld himself. The mandalorian who ran his fingers over the marks the bars had indented into your skin. “Din. my name is Din.”

“I’ll go look… actually i’ll secure the roof.” Mayfeld stumbles through his words watching as you tear up at seeing, really seeing him for the first time. You choke on your word when he crosses the room stopping when he hears the small noise. Noticing how you finally seem to come back into yourself and squeeze your eyes shut. 

“Cyare.” He says, sounding so different without the helmet on. 

“Put it back on.” You rush out. “I didn’t see, we’ll kill Mayfeld, keep your creed.” you know it’s a lie, but you say the words in a jumble anyways. 

“We were running out of time, this was my choice. Open your eyes, it’ll be okay.” Din reassures you. So you take a deep breath and listen to him. 

“You’re so handsome.” You say without thinking, because he’s stunning up close, where you can see every detail in full. Standing mouth slightly agape as you memorize your mandalorian’s face. Your hand goes to touch him but you stop yourself, Din notices of course, and guides your hand to his face. You were right. He does burn brighter than any kyber crystal in the galaxy. Heated honey to your touch. 

“I’m in love with you.” You’re learning many things about the man under the mask today, maybe it’s time he learns something about you. So you thread your hands into his hair and pour your love into a kiss. Din gasps, shocked, and part of you wonders if this is his first. But he reciprocates by moving his arms around your middle to bring you as close as possible to him.

When you part because of shots outside, he puts the helmet back on. And you immediately wish you had had a chance to kiss him again before he did.

[shyvioletcat]

“I moved in next door a few months ago and had no idea how enthusiastic you are about Christmas, but I mentioned I hadn’t decorated, so now you’re knocking on my door with a box full of decorations and are begging me to let you decorate” — this one seems fitting for rowaelin too! I can see Aelin being the super excited one who wants to help her cute neighbor decorate heh

Day One of the Rowaelin Holiday Celebration. Just some neighbourly fluff to get us started.

~~~~~

It had been just before Halloween when Rowan moved into his new place. It was half of a neat little duplex, small garden and a stone path that led up to his front porch. He knew he had a neighbour but he hadn’t seen her until a few days before Halloween when she had been carting boxes and boxes of stuff out of her house onto her own front porch. Her long golden hair was braided back, grey puffy coat over her body, and she had given him a smile as he trudged up the stairs and it had stopped him in his tracks.

“Do you decorate?” She asked.

“I—what?” Rowan stammered, noting the colour of her eyes. A bright turquoise, all the brighter for the rosiness in her cheeks from the cold.

“For Halloween, do you decorate?” She asked again, leaning over her railing so she could see him better.

Rowan took a step down so he could do the same. “No, not really.”

“I like to go all out,” she told him. “I’m Aelin, by the way.”

“Rowan,” he replied simply.

“Nice to meet you, Rowan,” Aelin said. “Do you want some of mine, I have a lot. I don’t usually get them all out every year.” 

“No thanks,” Rowa said.

“Not one for Halloween?” Aelin inquired. 

Rowan shook his head. “Or Yulemas either.”

Aelin gasped and looked as though he had personally offended him. “Excuse me?”

This time Rowan shrugged. “Don’t have anyone to celebrate with.”

She grinned at him. “Well, I guess we’ll have to see what we can do about that.” She pushed off her railing and disappeared but called out, “I’ll make sure to keep my decorations to my side.”

Aelin had kept her word, not one strand of fake spider web had trespassed on his side of the building, the border between the properties meticulously outlined. It had made Rowan laugh. The next time he had seen her was as she handed out candy to kids, dressed like a faerie princess from a fairytale, green flowing dress and a flower crown in her hair. She had noticed him staring and lobbed a chocolate at him as Rowan walked up his path and he’d caught it. And just like that she had captured his heart. Sure she was annoying, obnoxious and a bit of a brat sometimes but there was something about Aelin Galathynius that he couldn’t resist.

Now it was the beginning of December, the air was already bitingly cold and Rowan was in his living room thinking of the smoothest way to ask out his neighbour when there was a knock on his door. Startled from his train of thought it took a moment for Rowan to respond and the knock sounded again.

He called out as he got up. “Coming!”

He opened the door and the sight in front of him was not something he had expected to see. It was Aelin, undeniably despite how little of her face was showing, but those were her brilliant eyes peeking above her scarf and under her beanie. Two boxes were by her feet and she held another one in her arms.

“Hey,” she said, her voice muffled.

“Hey,” Rowan replied lamely.

Then Aelin said something he couldn’t catch through the fabric of her scarf.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Rowan said and reached out and pulled her scarf down a little.

Aelin’s mouth was revealed and she smiled at him. “Thanks. I was saying that I know you don’t decorate but yours is like the only house on the street with nothing on it and it looks so miserable and it’s making my place look bad too. So please, please let me decorate.”

Rowan blinked once. “You want to decorate my house.”

“Yes.” There was a long pause before she added, “Please.”

“You really want to?”

“I would love to,” Aelin assured him. “But you’ll have to help me.”

Rowan did, although he made a show of how reluctant he was to actually do so. Aelin had only laughed at him and continued ordering him around. He hung lights, held ladders and did just about anything else she had asked him to. It took them about two hours to get the outside up to Aelin’s standards. She insisted there were a few things missing, but to fix that she would need to go to the store. Rowan noticed that there was still one box left on the porch.

“What is that one for?” Rowan asked, blowing into his hands to warm them up.

“Decorations for inside of course,” she said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

“Inside?” 

Aelin didn’t say anything before she ran up the steps, picking up the box on the way and went straight into his home––not waiting for any kind of invitation. If it had been anyone else Rowan would have been pissed beyond belief, but instead he just shook his and followed her in. He found Aelin in the living room, hands on her hips surveying the space. She looked severely disappointed. 

“You don’t have a tree, are you planning on getting a tree?” Aelin asked tertly.

Rowan slipped his hands into his pockets and shrugged. “No.”

Now it was Aelin’s turn to shake her head and then she was moving past him, muttering something under her breath. He managed to catch the words Scrooge, despicable, embarrassment and then she was gone. Curious Rowan went to inspect the box she had left behind. It contained various decorations and tinsel and just about every other kind of Yulemas decoration known to man. Rowan went to his kitchen to brew some tea to warm himself up when he heard movement outside, there was the sound of something being dragged up his steps and then a furious banging on his door. The person seemed to think better of it and opened the door themselves, and Rowan went to his entry way to see Aelin dragging in a long rectangular box.

“You are so lucky,” she panted, “that I decided to get a real tree this year.”

“You brought me a tree?” Rowan asked. 

“It is indeed what it looks like,” Aelin said, dragging her prize towards the living room. 

Rowan just stared. He still couldn’t believe what was happening.

“Well, come help.”

Her demand snapped him out of his shock and Rowan took over the job of hauling the box into the living room. Aelin didn’t waste any time getting the tree set up, passing pieces to Rowan so he could assemble it. 

“Okay, move it over there,” Aelin said, pointing to the window. 

“What’s wrong with it here?” Rowan asked. He’d put in the corner near the couch.

“Rowan,” Aelin said, her voice exasperated. “I thought we agreed that you would do whatever I saw.”

“I don’t remember agreeing to that,” Rowan replied. 

“It was very heavily implied,” she said as she inspected the space by the window. “Now, right here. This way it will light up your window beautifully. The final piece in the puzzle.”

There was no point in protesting, he knew he wouldn’t win this fight, so Rowan shifted the tree to where Aelin said. While she instructed him how to decorate the tree —lights, tinsel, and then ornaments— she asked his questions, about work, his family, did he like living in Orynth. They eventually got onto mundane things and ended up laughing and joking with each other as they decorated the tree. Rowan found himself being scolded quite often about putting a decoration in the wrong spot, he said it didn’t matter, Aelin said it most definitely did. 

When it was all done she excitedly turned the ceiling light off and the lights on the tree on. It really was beautiful, but not as beautiful as the smile on her face as she admired her work. Rowan was now very officially gone for his neighbour.

“I should go.” Aelin was moving toward the couch to pick up her coat. “Thank you for letting me intrude like this. It was fun.”

“Yeah, it was,” Rowan admitted truthfully.

Aelin came and stood in front of him, a sly smile on her face. “Are you standing there on purpose?”

“Huh?” His face was the perfect picture of confusion. Then he looked up.

He was standing right under a sprig of mistletoe Aelin must have hung at some point.

“I-uh, I didn’t see it… no,” Rowan stammered.

Aelin just rose up onto her tiptoes, Rowan frozen in place as he kissed his cheek, “Happy Yulemas, Rowan.”

She left him standing there, stunned and skin tingling from the brush of her lips. Then she was gone through his front door. He let her go, but he didn’t waste any time the next day when he knocked on her door asking her out on a date. She said yes.

~~~~~

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[justcourttee]

I love your sibling Jasonette so much!! If you don't mind, could you do Marinette's first meeting with the rest of the Batfam? Also, this is probably a stupid question but are the rest of the sibling Jasonette stories connected?

Not a stupid question at all! I wrote them so that if you read all of them, there are parallels so that they could be connected, but if people didn’t want to read all of them, they could also stand on their own :)

I also NEVER mind writing more sibling Jasonette ;) Hope you enjoy! @moonlitjiminie 

Family Game Night

“What if they don’t like me?”

Jason stopped in his tracks, shaking his head in disappointment.

“Is that even a real question that you’re asking me? I’m honestly offended right now that you would even think they had an option to not like you.”

He dramatically placed his hand over his heart as if her words had fatally wounded him earning a small giggle from the girl. Slinging his arm over her shoulder, she managed to breathe a small sigh of relief as they made their way up the long staircase.

Jason didn’t even bother knocking as he threw open the manor doors, effectively dragging her in with him.

“Master Jason, what a pleasure to see you attend family game night and with a guest in tow, how lovely.”

An older man stood in the foyer, his sly smile warming Marinette to the core instantly. Jason narrowed his eyes playfully at the man, a sly smile of his own tugging at his lips.

“Marinette, let me introduce you to the only sane person in this household. Mr. Alfred Pennyworth. He likes to pretend he’s just a humble butler, but we all know that he secretly runs the whole thing around here.”

Alfred bowed deeply to Marinette to which she could only curtsey in return.

“It’s a pleasure, sir. I am sorry for invading your family time. I was under the impression that my presence was a known factor tonight.” Her narrowed eyes shot to Jason who simply shrugged, his smirk as arrogant as ever.

“Nonsense, a friend of Master Jason is a friend to all. You are by far the most pleasant friend he has brought to this event.”

Marinette almost wanted to ask about the context of his remark, but something in her gut told her she really didn’t want to know.

“Please, follow me to the sitting room. The rest of the family has already arrived.”

They walked in a comfortable silence down the hall, Marinette nerves slightly frayed now knowing that nobody expected her appearance. Alfred pushed open two oak doors, revealing a brightly lit room filled with many laughing faces. When Jason said he had a lot of siblings, Marinette thought two or three. Nothing could have prepared her for this.

“Oh my god, Jason brought home a girl!”

Instantly all sounds in the room paused as many heads turned their attention to where Marinette stood in the doorway. Hesitantly, she raised her hand in greeting, a sheepish smile gracing her face.

“Everyone, this is Marinette, the legendary designer MDC, and my sister. She’s flown all the way from Paris to meet you losers for some reason so be nice.”

Marinette mumbled a quiet hello as a few smiles broke through the room welcoming her. Instantly, a blonde girl jumped up to drag her back to where she was previously sitting, ignoring Jason’s protests.

“You just have to play on my team tonight! Are you any good at Pictionary? I mean I’m not great, but I can say with utmost confidence that I can beat most of the people in this room.”

“That’s not true!” Marinette’s attention was split as one of the men started an argument with her as to who was the better pictionary-ist. She didn’t even notice when Jason had sat beside her, an amused smile tugging at his lips.

“The rude blonde is Stephanie Brown. She’s Timmy boys girlfriend, who would be the dead zombie looking kid over there.”

Marinette’s gaze followed to where Jason pointed, a small giggle escaping at his accurate description. The poor boy looked like he hasn’t gotten a good night's sleep a single day in his life. 

“The rude boy arguing with Stephanie would be Dick. He practically rivals your optimism except his happy go lucky actually disgusts me.”

The man paused from his argument, a horrified expression on his face.

“I like to think my optimism is a blessing.”

That earned a collective groan from the room to which he simply crossed his arms into a pout.

“Anyways, continuing, the redhead is Barbara Gordon-Grayson who unfortunately has trapped herself in the position of Dick’s wife. A tragedy really for such a beautiful woman, I mean she could’ve had me and instead she chose him? The world just isn’t right.”

Another protest came from Dick’s direction as he turned his pout into Barbara’s outstretched arms as her attempt to not laugh failed miserably.

“The one staring you down while trying to pretend he’s not interested at the same time would be your future husband Damian.”

Marinette felt her entire face flush red as she reached back slapping Jason in the stomach as hard as he could.

“Todd, I do not appreciate harassing this young woman. You are beneath her in status and beauty therefore you should not be allowed to get off with this insult to her self so easily.”

Damian stood from his spot, careful not to make eye contact with Marinette as he sped past her toward the room’s only exit. She wanted to call out and ask him to stay, but the pink on his cheeks caused her to pause. He probably was just as embarrassed as her and just needed some time to breathe.

“Jason, that was mean! Look at how flustered you made him!”

Jason simply laughed as he reached over to ruffle her hair.

“Trust me, he never gets ‘flustered’ that was all you.”

For the second time that night, Marinette felt her face flush.

“He’s right you know!” Her eyes turned back to the blonde from earlier who stared her down with a playful expression in her eyes. “Demon spawn definitely has a crush on you.”

The rest of the family took turns picking at her, taking jabs until she was sure there wasn’t one part of her that wasn’t bloodshot red.

“Alright, alright, give the girl some space. We want her to return eventually!”

Marinette smiled gratefully toward the dark-haired man.

“After all, I need to get to know my future daughter-in-law.”

She instantly regretted her friendly gesture as the room exploded once more, smiles and laughter filling the room. Why exactly had she let Jason talk her into this?

“Okay, okay, really though guys. It’s game night! Time to pick team captains.”

Stephanie’s devilish smile sent shivers through Marinette’s spine. It was purely chaotic, reminding her of another blonde that she had left behind.

“I vote Marinette and Jason, the ultimate sibling showdown!” Dick puffed out his chest as his voice mimicked what sounded suspiciously like a wrestling ref that her father loved to watch.

“I’m down, how about you princess?”

Marinette bit her lip as her eyes glanced around the room at their waiting faces. Her eyes caught sight of one brooding face that she couldn’t seem to pass by. He also seemed to be waiting, his eyes nervously glancing from her position to the door as if he might bolt at any moment.

“It’s game on Todd.”

They shook their hands defiantly, both wearing dangerous smirks. Maybe she could salvage her pride tonight; not just hers’ but Damian’s as well. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“Ladies first.”

Marinette and Jason stood on opposite sides of the room, both watching each other with an intense look that came from their competitive natures. She scanned the eager faces of his family thoughtfully. She had no idea what any of them were good at, but she wanted to maintain appearance for the psych of it.

“Damian.”

Everybody broke out into smirks as they shared knowing looks. She didn’t bother to pay them any mind as the pink-cheeked boy rose to stand with her.

“Wrong move princess, demon spawn hates game night more than he likes to win. My first choice? Stephanie.”

The girl pumped her fist in the air as she joined Jason on his side. Marinette leaned toward where Damian stood, hiding half her face behind her hand.

“Time to strategize, who is my best bet?”

Damian stared at her with a bewildered expression.

“C’mon beau garçon, I need your help if we’re gonna kick Jason’s ass.”

He nodded slowly as if that were a perfectly reasonable excuse to kick into gear.

“Grayson is the leading contender if you wish to win tonight.”

Marinette nodded as she motioned for Dick to join them as well. Jason raised an eyebrow at her as he called over Tim, challenging her to pick from the remaining two.

“Okay Damian, Barbara or Bruce.”

He didn't bother responding as he pointed at his father, leaving the redhead to Jason’s team.

It was five hours of intense games, Alfred keeping score as an unaffiliated third party,( after all, they had all agreed that he was the fairest way to keep the games moving.) They all sat in anticipation while he tallied the scores. She couldn’t seem to calm her nerves as she stared at Jason’s cocky smirk.

Marinette felt a warmth brush by her kneecap. Instantly her head snapped to where a hand rested before her gaze reached back up to his face, a light red dusting across her cheeks. Immediately his hand retracted.

“I’m sorry if that was inappropriate, your knee was just bouncing anxiously from the corner of my eye and it was a slight bother.”

Marinette muttered out a small sorry before they both broke their gaze, the blush evident on both of their cheeks.

“And with a final score of 5-4, the winning team is… Miss Marinette!”

Her whole team jumped from the couch in excitement. Without thinking, she threw her arms around Damian’s neck. Realization crossed her face as she quickly retracted her hug, her entire face as red as could be. God, she hadn’t been this much of a blushing mess since she was thirteen.

They all chatted idly for a few minutes before Jason finally intercepted, insisting he had to get her back to her apartment before it got too late. The whole family waved her goodbye, minus one red-faced teen who instead handed her a small piece of paper as discreetly as he could, ignoring the taunts from his family behind his back.

As they drove back to her apartment, Marinette couldn’t hold her excitement anymore.

“I don’t know why you were warning me so much, I think I’m in love with your family Jason.”

His familiar smirk sat on his face as he turned into the apartment’s lot.

“I told you they were going to love you, and what do you know? I didn’t even have to give Damian your number, you two worked it out on your own. I truly believe they are planning out your wedding right now.”

Marinette shook her head as she reached over the console to hug Jason tightly before stepping out of the car. She wanted to deny accusations of what happened tonight, but she knew it would just fuel his picking.

Besides, even she couldn’t deny that she was excited for the next family game night and if she saw a certain Wayne there, well, that really wouldn’t be so bad.

Permanent Tag List:

@damianette-is-life @ash-amg @rebecarojas07 @heaven428 @long-lost-peace @thequeenofpotatoeunicornss @moongoddesskiana @nach0ava

[desertofsnowflakes]

Incorrect Order Chapter 7 (Nessian AU)

A/N: Do inform me if you wanna be added/removed from the taglist! If you happen to find my storyline similar to another fic or one of yours, I'm extremely sorry, I might've just not known. All characters belong to the author Sarah J. Mass. Enjoy!

Summary: Don't first impressions always affect the way you see someone? Well, what more with the Nesta Archeron? Nesta meets Cassian at few unexpected places and to say it didn't go well was a major understatement. Certain circumstances make them become enemies to tolerable company to friends to lovers.

Trigger Warnings: none ig

2097 words | Incorrect Order Masterlist | Read on AO3

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Wearing a tee is fairly simple. Just bunch it up and pull it over his neck, then, put his arms through. That's it. This is the third time he was trying to get himself in this damn t-shirt. The first time, he wore it the other way round. The next time he accidentally tried putting his neck where his arm was meant to go. He got snarled in the t-shirt in the process. It's a miracle the garment hadn't ripped off. His brushed hair also got mussed and tangled in the process.

Cassian sighed and held his dark brown tee up. His mind was still playing his memories with Nesta on loop. It just wouldn’t stop. Not when he was sulking, bathing, changing—

The doorbell rang. A quick glance at his wall clock confirmed that the hour was ungodly enough that most would be asleep. Wondering who exactly it was, Cassian opened the door—

—and his mind blanked out. There, standing in front of him, in all her glory was Nesta. Nesta, who had snapped at him earlier. Nesta in a white oversized sweater and black tight-fit leggings. A small bag was slung on her shoulder. He was pretty sure he was gawking like an idiot. He forced his mouth to shape her name.

***

“Nesta,” he breathed. Nesta could hear awe and reverence in his voice. So much that she shivered. There was pain in his voice too. Tears pricked her eyes. How selfish of her to run to him even after she hurt him. But she couldn’t turn away. Not now, not after walking from her home to here. She closed her eyes and swallowed. His bare torso didn’t help matters either. His torso was a wonderful masterpiece. His tattoos were starker in the moonlight. She longed to trace them with her fingers. Nesta immediately shut that train of thought. She didn’t come here for that. She came here because of Tomas. That’s it.

Cassian was peering over her shoulders when she opened her eyes. Frowning, he asked, “How did you come here? Has your cab left?”

“No,” she said. “I walked here.” His eyes snapped to her face. He took a step back and opened the door wider, “Come in,” he said.

Nesta could feel his eyes on her while she stepped through the threshold and took her time to look through his house. It wasn’t as big as Feyre’s but it was bigger than her apartment. She saw a rumpled t-shirt discarded on the dark blue couch and reigned in a smile. She heard the click of the lock and turned to face him. He looked at her and ran a hand through his hair, tousling it further. Her eyes tracked the wispy strands moving in between his slender, long fingers. Cauldron, she thought, this was going to be very difficult, indeed.

He nodded at the couch, “Have a seat. You must be tired. How long was the walk?” he queried.

She took her seat on the soft couch and replied, “Around half an hour including a short break I took.”

He nodded. The pained expression, mixed with one of longing, didn't leave his face yet. “Why are you here Nesta? Truly? Just a few hours ago, you were screaming in my face and now, you’re in my house looking rattled. What do you want?”

Nesta stared at her hands resting on her lap, took in a ragged breath and said, “Tomas.”

The shock was evident on his face. “Tomas?” he repeated. She saw as the shock on his face bled and became anger. “Did he disturb you again?” he demanded.

“No,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around herself. “No. He wasn’t really even there. I was on my bed. Trying to get some sleep. I couldn’t sleep, I kept tossing and turning on my bed. Sleep felt so far away. But after sometime I think I fell asleep. Then I felt like I woke up. It was bright. It all felt weird to me. And that was when I saw him. He was in my room. His hand was around my neck, squeezing. He was talking and talking.” The words were gushing out of her now, a panicked flow of words. She continued, “Then he slapped me. He also had a knife with him. He kept threatening me. Telling me about the way he said he wanted to kill me. And—and he used his knife on me. He stabbed my arm and kept dragging upward slowly. It hurt like hell. That was what I didn’t understand. The pain. It all felt very real. Most of all, my pain.” She looked back at Cassian. He was silently listening, she was grateful for that. “That’s why I came here,” she admitted. “I got scared. The vulnerability I felt… I want to be ready when he comes back. And he will come back. He isn’t the type to let things go. I need your help. Help me,” she pleaded. She wasn’t aware of the tear escaping her eye.

Cassian got up and seated himself beside her. He cupped her cheek. Unconsciously, she leaned closer to him. He gently brushed her tears away. “I’ll help you,” he said gently. “You’ll be ready. When the time comes, you’ll be ready. I’ll make sure of it. Only if you call me Cass.”

She grinned. “That wouldn’t be very difficult,” she said.

***

Cassian felt like he was selling his soul in a bargain to the devil. He knew. He knew that this wouldn’t end well for him. He knew he’ll end up having his heart broken. But he couldn’t resist. He couldn’t bring himself to say no to her.

Nesta wrapped her arms around his middle. He froze. The sensation of her hands on his bare skin was a shock to his senses and elicited a shiver down his spine. “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you so much. Really.” she gave him a playful smile. “Cass,”she said with more emphasis than necessary. And Mother, he didn’t regret letting her call him Cass one bit.

She yawned and stretched like a cat. He liked that too, he decided.

“Have you slept?” he asked.

“A bit. You?”

He shook his head. He gestured to her to follow him up the stairs. “You can sleep here till dawn in Mor’s room. You know, the room you used the last time.”

“Cass,” she said. He halted, turning back to face her. “I really need to say this. I’m sorry. Truly. I shouldn’t have said what I did last night.”

He didn’t say it’s okay because it really wasn’t. He just nodded, acknowledging her apology, showing her that he couldn’t forget how much it hurt him but he’ll try to come to terms with both of their mistakes. They reached Mor’s door.

She hesitated. “I don’t have any clothes to change to,” she said.

“It’s fine,” he said. “Mor’s clothes would fit you, though it would be slightly loose. You can also use the bathroom to wash up or anything else you want to do. I’ll be in the room down the corridor—” he said, gesturing to the second last door— “so just knock if you need anything, okay?”

She nodded and thanked him again before closing the door and preparing for bed. He entered his room and plopped on the bed. It might’ve been how tired he felt or it might have been her presence two rooms away, but in mere minutes, Cass was fast asleep.

***

A few fast and hard knocks on his door woke Cassian from his sleep. Groggily, he opened the door to find Nesta in a tank top and shorts. Very short shorts. She looked disturbed, though.

“What happened?” he asked her.

“I can’t sleep,” she said, her voice small.

Cassian’s heart, or at least, what was left of it, broke. He hated to see this. Cold, sharp Nesta now, standing in front of him, scared and afraid. He felt a surge of protectiveness in him. He wanted to tuck her to his side and shield her from every and any harm that would come to her.

He held his hand out for her and brought her into his room. “Sit,” he gestured to his bed, “What do you want to do?”

She smiled tentatively, “Would you tell me about yourself? We haven’t introduced ourselves properly. I think I want to hear more about you from you yourself. And if you want… I could tell you some things about myself too.”

He sat on the bed beside her and said, “That’ll be fun.” He saw this not only as a means to escape the horrid things in her head, but also as a peace offering. He couldn’t forgive and forget the things she told him earlier but he could try to play along with her patching up.

“Who’s gonna start first?” she asked.

He dramatically placed his hand on his bare chest in a variation of a bow and said, “After you, my lady.”

She laughed and asked, “Do you ever wear a shirt at home?”

“Why? Getting distracted already?”

“Can’t you just answer my question?” she asked hotly, though a light blush was creeping up her cheeks.

The corner of his lips kicked up a notch, “I do wear shirts at home.”

“Good,” she said and opened her mouth to continue when he interrupted her.

“Wait,” he said, “Now, you haven’t answered my question.”

“I didn’t deem it worthy enough to answer.”

He pouted, “You wound me, Nes.”

“Stop being overdramatic. And don’t call me Nes!” she snapped half heartedly.

“Twice,” aggrievedly, he said, “you wounded me twice. Also,” he smirked, leaning closer to her, “you like it.”

“Like which?”

“Being called Nes.”

“I don’t.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Now you’re the one who’s getting distracted. What did we plan for and what are we doing now? If this is how things are gonna be, I think you’ll prove to be a very bad teacher.”

“Now, Nes, you need to know that I’m good at many, many things and would prove to be an extremely focused teacher,” he said, voice husky. He knew she caught his meaning when the blush on her cheeks deepened. He leaned back on his palms, “Go on.”

So she spoke. She told him of her time when both her parents were alive; of the time when they grieved their mother’s death; when she kept herself away from her sisters after becoming orphans; when she made the mistake of falling for Tomas. “Honestly,” she had told him, “when I look at him now, I wonder how I fell in love with him in the first place.” She then told him of how her relationship with Tomas was a toxic one; him being abusive and controlling; how he made her feel low of herself; how he never respected her; how he kept cheating on her. She told Cassian of the day Tomas hit her and accused her of cheating just because he saw her paying for her groceries at a male’s counter. She told him of how she called the police immediately after and got him behind bars. By the time she was over, Nesta was curled by his side, tears silently streaming down her beautiful face, him rubbing soothing circles on her back.

Then he told her about himself. He decided to tell her the plain truth without any alterations. She deserved it. But it felt intimate, somehow, sharing the details he hadn’t spoken out loud. Even Az and Rhys had only seen what he did and never pushed afterwards. He told her as much before telling her about how much he loved his mother; of how he never knew his father and that was for his father’s own good; of how his mother was killed one day while he was at school; of how he beat the men involved into pulp; of how he was called a brute and a bastard there on; of how he first met Rhys and Az at his school; of how Rhys’s mother took him in as her own son; of the silly things and the trouble the trio would create.

“You are a very good friend, Cass. And an even better man,” Nes said

His heart warmed. He said, “Don’t care about what Tomas said. You’re a beautiful, intelligent, brave, witty and sharp woman. And I,” he paused, “I like you very much as a friend too.”

He didn’t understand the short pang of disappointment on his face. All he could think was, shit, I almost said I loved her.

taglist: @shadowsinger07 @im-someone-i-guess @saltyfortunes @cressjacquine @champanheandluxxury @zemiraa @nehemikkele @angelic-voice-1997 @heartless--aromantic @sv0430 @vinylcryes @deedz-thrillerkilller16 @sjm-things @dontgetsalmonella @ganseys-jane

[yoditorian]

lacuna - part 9

din/reader

well shit guys,,,,this is the last one.

this has been a labour of love and i just want to say a huge huge thank you to everyone who’s commented and reblogged and sent me asks and even just lurked and read it. seriously, from the absolute bottom of my heart, thank you. i’d also love to extend a special thank you to @keeper0fthestars and @chatterbean for consistently cheering me on throughout this fic. and an extra extra special thank you to @bee-dameron for being the most incredible sounding board, and without whom this fic literally would not exist. this was really my first jump back into writing fic properly and i couldn’t be more grateful for the love its received. it might be the end for the main storyline, but it’s definitely not the end of this universe 💛

series masterlist // main masterlist

word count: 4.9k

warnings: angst angst angst, rebel is healing, din is having the worst time of his life (all of season 2), swears, yes i am referencing That Monologue

He can’t stop hearing it. 

How you pleaded with him, how you begged him to stay, how you cried when he left. Din’s sure it’s a sound that’ll haunt him for the rest of his life.

Din has been staring out at the swirling lights of hyperspace for hours when the kid clambers up into his lap, his stomach lurches when he notices three little green fingers curled around a corner of your old blanket. The kid leans over to frown at the second passenger seat. Empty.

“I know, buddy. It’s my fault, I’m sorry.” His voice is wrecked, the sound of it so harsh through the modulator that even he flinches. 

Din’s still not completely sure that the child understands him, but his little ears droop down at the apology and he wraps himself up as best he can in your blanket. Five minutes and you’ve charmed the little thing. Din isn’t sure why he’s surprised, you did the same to him all those years ago. 

The kid settles back down to sleep in his lap, curled up in the thinning fabric, and one of Din’s gloves hits the floor before he even realises that he’s slipped it off. The wool is a little stiff with age under his fingers, but it’s been well loved. And been well loved on if his memory serves. He wonders if it smelt of him afterwards. If you spent nights curled up in it, trying to inhale the last memento you had of him before he saw you again, the same way he spent so many nights wallowing in his own memories. He used to wish he had something physical with him to keep close, the cruel irony of your forgotten blanket doesn’t go unnoticed now. 

Part of him wants to bring it back. A peace offering, maybe. He wants to let you get to know the kid better, to help him on his quest to find his home. Or maybe just to stay, like you asked. But he fucked it all up. You’d probably slam the door of your little home in his face now. Honestly? He’s pretty sure it’s the least he deserves. He wouldn’t be surprised if you pulled a blaster on him with all the ways he’s hurt you. 

It feels like grief. The way the sorrow settles on your chest, curling it’s cold hands around your lungs and squeezing. You hope it chokes you, if only so you don’t have to feel like this anymore. You curl up on the kitchen floor, the cold tile freezing through your clothes, and wonder if this is it.

Kes finds you there, hours after the door was slammed and the sun has set. 

“Is there something wrong with me?” You can’t help but ask, you can’t help but wonder. Because even through the pain and the silence and the arguments, you still love Din. Maybe you always will. But you’re not sure it matters anymore. Kes looks at you, confused, and you press on.

“I mean, I laid out how I feel so many times and all he ever did was push it away but- but I know that if he walked in that door right now I’d let him back in.” 

“I think that’s love, kiddo.” He sinks down to join you on the floor, and if the chill of the tile raises goosebumps on his arms, he doesn’t mention it. 

“Love is stupid,” You pause when he shoots you a look, “No offence to you and your ridiculously happy marriage, but this sucks.”

You sound like a child, you know that. Just like you know that things with Din were always going to end the way they have. You’ve always known you came second to his creed, so much so that you can’t even bring yourself to be angry about it anymore. The alternative is to cry until you lose your voice, so childish seems like the way to go.

“What?” You huff. Kes is watching you carefully, in that pensive way that he does when he’s about to call your bluff in sabacc and take the game. Like he always does. 

“I’m not sure you really think that.”

He’s right on the money yet again, the fucking asshole. 

A fresh wave of tears stings your eyes. thankful at least that Kes has found a spot on the floor to look at instead of turning those big sad eyes onto you. You’re not sure you could take it. It’s frustration at yourself, mostly, instead of just the heartbreak of being left behind so willingly. So angrily. What is it about you that made the idea of sticking around so repulsive, so disgusting, that he left without a second thought. You thought he loved you, you really did. But you’ve been wrong about things before. However much you hate it. 

“I can’t stay here. I can’t.”

“I know.” Kes’s eyes lift from the floor finally, settling uncertainly on yours. 

“I’m sorry, it’s not that I- I want to be close to you guys but,” You flounder for a moment, desperate to think up a reason, “I just can’t be here.”

He understands, you know he does. You’ve all lost enough people, physically and emotionally, to know when a place is no longer welcoming. And you do, genuinely, love the little house on the edge of their land. You love the way the sun hits through the kitchen window in the late afternoon, you love the way you can hear the birds in the trees when you wake in the morning, you love the way any of them can drop by anytime they want to. But it’ll always be the site of the last time you loved Din, the last time he kissed you. Ground zero of your relationship. If you could even call it that. 

“I’ll be alright. I’ve been without him before.”

You have, you’ve been without Din. You’ve spent years without hearing the comm you gave him so much as click. You’ll be alright. In time. 

Only, there were never arguments before. All those times you left, or he left, he’d never shouted at you the way he did. You’d never felt the rage he keeps so carefully locked away, not with you in the crosshairs anyway. It sends your stomach churning, remembering the way he denied you so easily. 

You eye the pouch of credits on the table, just visible over the top of Kes’s head. Why would he leave something like that behind? The Crest is falling apart, he’s got the kid to think about now, why would he forsake a payday for someone he’d so readily abandon.

The dam breaks, and your brave face along with it.

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” Kes shuffles over to sit closer, to draw you into his arms and let you cry it out on his shoulder. So, in turn, you let yourself feel it. Properly. Sobbing until you’re half asleep, breath hitching every now and again, and the sun starts to rise. 

You don’t know why Din left the credits there, and it feels odd to think about using them when he’s the reason this house isn’t a home anymore. But he could never give you much, and despite everything you know he’s never been a heartless man intentionally, maybe this is his way of making up for that. A clean slate.

The first thing he thinks of as Din comes to, only seconds after the e-web cannon explodes in his face, is you. Of course it is. 

You with your feet up beside you on the passenger seat and the child in your arms, wrapped up and snoring softly. No idea of what was coming. It’s that image that stays at the forefront of his mind, even through the pain of being dragged across the ground into the almost safety of the destroyed cantina.

That’s the view he wants, regardless of however futile it is to realise that now. Regardless of the fact that he’s dying and you’re not here. You don’t even know. Maybe you wouldn’t care if you did. He wouldn’t be surprised. 

But he gave it up for what? For this? Denied himself and the kid safety and a life just for both of them to die on the grotty floor of the cantina on Nevarro. Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Maybe he always has been, for refusing you at every turn, refusing to let himself give in and reassess and have the life he’s so desperately wanted with you for years now. Who is he, without his creed? 

Yours. He knows that now.

There’s something profoundly wrong about you not being there as the blood trickles down the back of his neck and soaks into his clothes. As he hands off the child to the people he’s come to think of as his friends and trusts them to do the one thing he can’t.

“Take him to Yavin,” He tells them, desperately, “Find the little house at the end of the farm track.” 

You’ll take care of the kid, despite everything. You’ll take him in without a question, in a heartbeat. The same way you so effortlessly ingrained Din into your life when you first met. Even if it was accidental on both sides.

Din can’t stop himself, as the IG unit lifts his helmet, from remembering the way you did the same. This feels so clinical, mechanical. There’s nothing of the warmth and reverence that had been in your touch. Even this close to death, it’s like his bones themselves are calling your name.

“What do you think?” Your voice echoes in the empty space. The smell of fresh sawdust is strong in your nose, but you don’t mind. It’s oddly comforting, as though the shop was built just for you. The sound of little footsteps pound over the upper floor and a messy mop of curls appears over the top of the railing.

“I love it. Can I live here too?” Poe grins cheekily.

“Your parents might have something to say about that, buddy.” 

He thunders down the stairs beside the little back office and comes to a skidding halt in front of you, kicking up a little dust in his wake. You catch him easily, whirling him around in a circle as he laughs. The way the sound fills the space starts to stitch the edges of your heart back together. Maybe this is what you need to do, fill a new space with light and laughter and the people you love. Somewhere to exist, somewhere to grow. The workshop seems like a good place to start.

A child of The Watch.

What does that even mean?

His covert, his family, it’s- it’s not a cult. It can’t be. The way she talked about it, like even the thought left a bad taste in her mouth, sends a shot of anger down his spine. He is not a religious zealot. But, would he know if he is?

Is he?

Din’s never had cause to doubt his creed, or his covert. They saved him, rescued and raised him. They taught him to fight and to protect and to provide for the covert. Foundlings are the future, right? Would he be less, maybe, to those born on Mandalore? To people like Bo-Katan who wear the armour from generations past, who fought to defend their homeland and their clans. Din doesn’t wear ancestral armour, but has he not defended his family with his life? Ancient way or not, it seems like the kind of thing that would be important in any kind of Mandalorian culture. Traditionalist or otherwise. 

No one has seen his face since he was a child. And yet, he still took off his helmet, every time, for you and believed he was breaking his creed. Sure, you never saw his face, but does that matter? Is it not the principal of the thing? Then there’s the glaring evidence that there are Mandalorians who can remove their helmets. What does that make him, if he’s neither followed the letter of the creed or whatever rules Bo-Katan has. 

With the kid safely tucked away and snoring in his little hammock, Din pulls the helmet off and glares at his distorted reflection in the curve of the visor. He can feel your hands on him like you’re there, smoothing over his shoulders and curling around his waist. And as all the tension melts from his body, he knows what you’d say. That he is himself. Din Djarin, and it’s up to him what he wants that to mean. Whether it includes Mandalorian or not. Whatever he wants to be is what he is and you’d never love him less for it.

Love him.

He scoffs at himself. There’s no way you feel like that about him now.

“Can you reach right up in that corner?” 

You’d let Poe pick the colour for the walls of the main attic space, and so he and his dad are flecked in bright orange paint as they swirl brushes over the wood they’d primed yesterday.

Kes has him on his shoulders, fully in charge of the high up sections as he’d so politely asked, while you and Shara are screwing together the fittings for the kitchen units. A pastel blue this time, also chosen by Poe. Although Shara had kindly guided him away from the neon purple cupboard doors that had caught his eye with a quick wink at you. Maybe giving a small child free reign over your interior decorating was a bad idea. But he’d proven to have quite an eye on some things. 

The four of you had travelled all the way to an inner rim market to find your furniture, deciding on a deep red fabric couch that fit all of you comfortably and takes a considerable amount of effort to rise from. It’s been pushed back against the half wall that hides the attic living space from the workshop floor. Your bedroom furniture is brand new as well, all light polished wood and soft bedding. The credits Din had abandoned had gone a long way, almost long enough that you can forget where they came from. Sometimes. 

It hits you again, cross legged on the floor as Shara hands you another piece to slot into place, that there should be an extra pair of hands. Pulling more pieces out of crates or rearranging the layout in the bedroom or hanging lampshades. It’s nice to be making this new house into a home with your family, but there’s still a gaping hole where there should be someone else. 

A warm hand settles on your knee, breaking your focus from where it’s settled at the top of the staircase. Shara. You turn to her with a smile, and blink back a wave of tears when she returns it. You have your family, right here, you don’t need him. You don’t need him.

“Get down!” Shara calls, just as a shadow looms over you.

Poe’s feet swing over your heads and he laughs when Shara just misses grabbing his ankle, Kes lifting him deftly out of the way at the last second. This is what your life is supposed to be, definitely. The sound of everybody else’s laughter lifts the weight off of your shoulders just enough for you to breathe, to laugh along with them. For a little while.

Din loses everything in a matter of moments. Everything.

Methodically searching through the ashes of the Razor Crest, of the only home he had left, is the final barrier between him and the guilt about the child. About Grogu. The kid’s become his, undeniably, and he couldn’t do the one thing a father is supposed to do. Gideon has him at his mercy, has Din at his mercy now. Whatever the Moff and Dr Pershing have in store, it’s not good. The kid might not even survive. 

All he can see is his little face, his little arms reaching out as the droid climbed higher and higher towards the cruiser. What kind of a father is he, to just let his son be taken from him? No man who would so willingly see the child in his care delivered to his doom deserves to be called such a thing.

Din kicks the dust at his feet in frustration, all too aware of the new eyes watching him. Grief is a difficult thing in and of itself, it’s even harder when it’s observed. He feels like an exhibit. Sure, the two of them stayed and defended the child without even being asked to, but that doesn’t mean he wants them sitting and watching as he sifts through the ruins of his life. 

Fitting, really, that the one way he always thought he would keep you in his life went up in flames, exploded in much the same way your relationship did. That was his fault too. 

But it’s all gone now. The Razor Crest, his home, Grogu’s bed, your old blanket. Grogu and you. Maybe for good, maybe this is his life now, he doesn’t know if he’ll ever get either of you back. Maybe he’ll launch a rescue mission only to find his son dead and hitch a ride to Yavin only to be turned away at your door. Maybe that’s what he deserves. 

“Thanks!” You call as the couple stroll out of the main doors and into the sunshine, newly repaired pit droid trotting after them.

“Which one goes to this one again?” Poe catches your attention, waving the motor over his head. He’s sitting on the desk in the back office, little eyebrows furrowed in confusion. You’ve been teaching him small mechanic things here and there on his days with you. How to wire a basic console, how to program a droid, how a hyperdrive motivator works. You’d taken him out with you on a call once, so you could show him the different engine parts of a ship that his mother doesn’t treasure. Today, it’s hotwiring lessons.

Kes and Shara had pretended to disapprove when you asked them what they thought about it, and they still would if Poe was the one to bring it up. But the larger community on Yavin still sleeps far too lightly, still sleeps far too little. The kids are learning their history and their life skills, but alongside basic combat and strategy lessons. The older kids can enroll in weapons training and piloting lessons. The war will never fully leave this moon so long as it stands. 

“Which one do you think?” You ask, settling down into the chair with your datapad and a mountain of forms to fill out. Poe ponders for a moment, glancing between your expectant expression and the dead motor in his hands. 

“This one?” He touches the exposed wires together carefully, huffing when nothing happens. 

“No, wait! This one!” The little motor whirrs to life the moment the wires make contact, and subsequently dies again when he drops it to throw his arms up in celebration. You catch it before it can hit the floor and burst into pieces, your own smile wide enough to make your cheeks ache. 

You’re living. For the first time in years you’re living, without watching over your shoulder for the Empire, without wondering when you’ll see Din again. You’re spending time with your best friends’ kid and making a living as the town mechanic. You have regular customers and people who drop by just to say hi, and things don’t seem so bad anymore. Even though there’s a gap inside of you that aches and misses him, you’re starting to be at peace with it.

He doesn’t know why he was so stupid as to think the facial scan might work with the fucking helmet on. And now the terminal won’t stop beeping and he’s pretty sure people are looking over at him and there’s only one option left and- fuck it.

Din’s hands shake as he lifts the plastic helmet off, the habit of a usually much heavier one makes the movement almost too forceful, and he sets it down. 

This is wrong. It feels so wrong. The first time any living being has seen his face since he was a child and it’s a room full of Imperials. The organisation that took his parents from him, that massacred whole planets and drove his people underground, that you have spent your whole life fighting against. He feels sick.

It was supposed to be you. He’s thought about it a lot, since the first time you took him to that little house on Yavin. He envisioned standing in the bedroom, curtains thrown open to soak up the last of the afternoon sun, and you’d smile at him in that way you always did. He would pull you close to press his forehead against yours, he would take your hands and bring them up to close around the lip of his helmet. He’d tell you it was okay, and you’d lift it off together. You’d smile, maybe a stray tear would linger in the corner of your eye, and you’d finally get to see him. You’d trace your fingertips along his cheekbone and press a kiss on the little spot on his jaw where the hair doesn’t grow. You’d tell him you always thought he had brown eyes. He’d tell you you’re beautiful. And then he’d kiss you, and you’d let him. 

The terminal beeps again and Din pulls the drive from the port, just in time to turn and face an Imperial Officer. 

Your head is in an engine hatch when you hear one of the wide metal doors at the front of the shop creak open. 

“We just closed up, but you can swing by in the morning if it isn’t an emergency!” You call, and hope your voice carries to whoever is standing in your doorway. You don’t really have the time for a customer, this speeder repair is already a day late because you were watching Poe last night, but Yavin is a community. 

However long it took you to get used to after being back on the station, it’s almost like being a part of the rebellion again. Everybody works together to make things a little easier for everyone else. You hear a shuffle of footsteps, slowly edging closer to you, and you’re about to call out again when they say your name. 

When he says your name.

You hit your head on the hatch as you pull yourself out of it. 

“No.”

You can’t do this. You can’t. 

All the work you’ve done to piece your broken little heart back together starts to unravel, just seeing him standing in your workshop. Every staple and stitch and strip of tape loosens until there’s nothing left and that gap inside you, the one that sits right under your heart, starts to ache something fierce. 

How dare he.

How dare he think he can walk into the one place that you have, the one place in the whole galaxy that doesn’t stink of betrayal and heartache and him. How dare he think he can disturb the life you’ve begun to build without him, however much it hurt. There are nights where you don’t think of him now. Nights where you don’t wake in the middle of dreams of his touch and his voice and his kisses. And now he’s here and all of your work was for nothing. 

“Please-” 

“No. No, you don’t get to do this. You don’t get to come back and undo everything. You can’t.” At least your voice is steadier than you feel, as you square your shoulders and plant your feet in a vain attempt to stay upright. Or to stop yourself running right back into his arms. 

“I know.”

No, that’s what breaks the final piece of your heart off. The heart that belongs to him anyway. It always has, even when you didn’t want it to. He sounds so broken.

“Did you leave the baby on the ship again?”

You don’t miss the way his shoulders tighten, just barely, or how his fingers twitch nervously. 

“The ship’s gone. So is- so is the kid,” Din takes a shuddering breath, “I lost everything.”

Everything? What does that even mean? Your stomach flips at the thought of what he might mean, that the kid is gone. You’re almost afraid to ask. And you hate the painful tug in your chest when his knees give out and he hits the concrete floor with a thud. There’ll be bruises in the morning.

“He’s with a Jedi, he’s with his people but-” He gestures vaguely, and you know what he means. You felt the same way every time he left you. If the kid’s a Jedi, he probably should be in the care of people who know what to do. But you can’t imagine how it must have felt to just hand the baby over. 

“He’s where he belongs.” You’re trying to stay cold, you really are. 

“Is he?” 

It’s hard to be cruel to a man who’s just given up his kid. To a man you love. 

He says your name again, softly, tearfully. The shudder of a sob ripples through his body and he heaves a deep breath at the same time you do. You can feel it creeping back, every uncertainty you had the day he walked out of your old house. Every bone in your body screams for you to reach out to him, to comfort him the way he should have comforted you when he left you crying for him on your kitchen floor. He can’t be here. You have to make him go. 

“Mando-”

“My name, please use my name.” He interrupts you, desperately. He doesn’t mean to, but he can’t hear you call him Mando. It never sounded right, not the way his real name does when you roll it around on your tongue. He needs to hear it.

“Din, you can’t stay.”

It’s so hard to hold steady, to keep your voice even, to not just throw it all away and gather him into your arms the way you want to. The way you need to. You were right, all those months ago, when you told Kes you’d take him right back if he walked through the door.

“You’re home, you know that? It’s you.” 

You say nothing, for fear your words will crack and give you away. 

“And- and every time I left or you left it just, nothing felt right. Not until we were together again, and it scared me. And I hurt you because of it, that’s my fault.” He sighs, defeated, but continues on when you stay silent.

“I’m so sorry, my love. I- it’s inexcusable. I don’t know how to- how to fix it. I don’t know if I can,” Din hangs his head in shame, “You should hate me. I do. I pushed you away and hurt you, when all I ever wanted was you. Just you.” 

It’s not enough to soothe the scars in your heart, the ones that settled deep and angry and split open time and time again. The ones he put there. But maybe there’s room to make a start.

“I don’t hate you,” You press on even as his head shoots up in surprise, “Against all my better judgement, I love you. Pretty sure I always have.”

It’s quiet for a long time. And you think this is when he tells you he’s not good enough for you, that he never will be, and he leaves for the very last time. You know you won’t see him again if he does, but he’ll take your heart with him anyways. 

“Cyar’ika.” He breaks the silence. Again. But it’s softer than the last time you were in this position. 

“You’ve called me that before.”

“I’ve called you that a lot of times, you were only awake once.”

“What does it mean?” You’re almost afraid to know the answer.

He lifts his hand to his shoulder, to a pauldron with an unusual skull welded to it, and detaches the mechanism. It clatters to the floor, but Din’s gaze remains firmly locked on yours. He does the same with the other and lifts the bandolier over his head. That too is abandoned on the ground.

“Sweetheart.” His vambraces, this time. One, two clang as they hit the floor, followed by his thigh plates.

“Darling.” The chest plate. 

He’s kneeling, surrounded by his armour, by the definition of the man you thought he was. All but the helmet. You love him, you can’t deny that. He’s baring himself to you in ways he never has before and you know what it means to him to do this.

“Beloved.”

Your brain stops working. You were so ready to shout and scream and punish him for what he put you through but suddenly none of it matters. Because he’s here, he’s finally here, and he’s telling you he loves you and that’s all you’ve ever wanted. 

“Take it off, please?”

And so you do.

Your feet are moving towards him before you can even register what they’re doing and you haul him up off of the ground. Din winds his arms around you automatically, without a second thought, until there isn’t a breath of air left between your bodies. No armour, no barriers, just two people who have done far too much damage to each other to ever know anyone else the way you do. 

His eyes. Oh god, his eyes.

“You’re beautiful.” You whisper, careful not to disturb the peace that’s settled. Finally, finally.

“That’s my line.” He chuckles as you smile, as you feel that gap in your ribs quiet after all these years. An unfilled space, no longer.

Din kisses you, and you let him.

TAGLIST (add yourself here):

@bee-dameron @rebloogggs @keeper0fthestars @remmysbounty @sirianisrock @thevoiceinyourheadx @firstofficerwiggles @1800-fight-me @ew-erin @chatterbean @altarsw @darnitdraco​ @greeneyedblondie44​

[the-infamous-coat-of-baron-zemo]

Missed Opportunities | Helmut Zemo x Reader | Chapter 4

Good morning, afternoon, evening fam. Hope you all are doing good.

Here's the next installment of Missed Opportunities. There's one chapter left. Hopefully this one will be enough to tide you over to the finale.

Thank you for all the continued support. Love you all.

-----

Tag-List:

@ajeff855 @vrsidae @greeneyedblondie44 @bbakugaan03 @somethingthatsaysbubbles @lieutenantn @aisling1985 @fillechatoyante @maria-chwan @neoarchipelago @lostghostgirl94 @whovianayesha @mochminnie @fanfics-ig @congurl @ay0nha

Did I miss someone? For future tag requests: Please send me a direct message if possible, it’s easy to lose people in the mix and I don’t want to miss anyone!

For previous chapters go here: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Word Count: 2,462

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

You were violently woken up in the middle of the night. At some point, during the early hours of the morning, you must have rolled over onto your side. The movement caused your bruised body to send a jolt of stinging pain to your brain, immediately causing you to jerk awake.

You squeezed your eyes shut and took deep breaths to ride out the wave of agony. After the pain subsided, you let out a small groan and attempted to situate yourself again. You failed to find any real rest after that incident and faded in and out of sleep until you could see dawn about to break. Through your restlessness, you thought you could hear faint murmurs and reassurances in your ear.

Delirium must have set in, because when you woke up for good this time, you realized you had a blanket covering your body and a heaviness on your left hand.

You lolled your head to the side to avoid the faint rays of sunlight streaming into the room. You blinked several times before peering down at your hand, which you now noticed, was being held by another person.

Remembering the previous night's events, your eyes travelled up the arm of the person holding your hand, tracking all the way until you landed on the person's face.

Zemo.

He was still here with you and apparently had fallen asleep during the night.

You swallowed thickly and not because of the throbbing pain coursing through you. Your eyes flicked up to the nightstand to see the book he was reading placed neatly at the corner.

He chose to stay.

Your eyes moved back to look at Zemo. To really look at him. He seemed so much younger in his sleep. The tense concentration lining the features of his face each day were gone. The weight of his decisions and promises he made to himself given a reprieve. You wondered when the last time was he truly slept.

For all the wrongs he had done, the choices he had made, he did so out of grief and love. He's a complicated man to be sure. For all his darkness, there is still a light that shines brightly in him.

Though you disagreed with his methods of avenging his family, you knew from his actions, that when Helmut Zemo loved, he loved with his entire being. There was no question about it.

For this one moment, you decided to give in. You softly brushed your thumb back and forth against the skin of the hand holding yours. If you could give him one brief second of comfort, you hoped it was this.

You smiled to yourself as you watched Zemo snuffle in his slumber and unconsciously tighten his grip on your hand, but not uncomfortably.

You had the irrational urge to run your fingers through his hair, but he was sitting too far out of your reach. So you settled for continuing to stroke gentle touches along his hand.

His presence was calming. Safe. There was no where else you wanted to be right now.

You looked up to the ceiling to glance at the digital clock projecting the time. 5:42AM. Definitely too early. You wondered if Bucky and Sam had returned from their outing last night.

If you were to guess, you'd think not, because they most likely wouldn't have allowed Zemo to stay with you the whole evening.

You twist your neck up to the night stand and tried to grab your phone with your bad arm. It wasn't your best idea. You had full range of motion again since Bucky popped your shoulder back into place, but the soreness was downright breath-taking, and coupled with your ribs, you were wheezing with effort to retrieve the phone.

Your finger tips manage to grab the edge of the phone. You attempted to scoot it closer to you so you could grip it better. Unfortunately, you ended up clumsily knocking the phone onto the floor with a clatter, arousing your companion out of his sleep.

Zemo snapped to attention immediately. With his years of military experience, it would disappoint you if he didn't.

He quickly assessed the room before his gaze landed on you. The tension in his body released once he realized there was no threat. His eyes dropped to the hand he was holding.

You could see his brow furrow in confusion, as if he didn't know how his hand got to be where it currently was. Zemo tilted his head in thought, eyes never leaving where your hands were joined together. You could see an indecisiveness written across his face. After a beat, he seemed to resign himself to whatever was running through his mind, because he sighed heavily and gave a sad smile. Then he gently lifted your arm towards him to place a soft kiss on the back of your hand.

"Hi," you shyly responded. Zemo's kiss was just the barest brush of his lips against your skin, but it was electric all the same. You were too stunned by his action to do or say anything else except stare.

"Morning," he rasped quietly. His voice was still riddled with the remnants of someone who had just woken up. He brought your hand back to the bed as he made a move to sit up in his chair more appropriately, "How are you feeling?"

You cleared your throat and licked your lips as you take stock of your injuries before answering him, "Been better. Could have been a lot worse."

"That's not what I asked," he said, clearly unimpressed with your attempt to dodge answering him properly.

"I'm in pain; however, it is manageable," you answer him honestly. You felt he deserved that for having stayed with you the entire evening, and you didn't want him feeling guilty over whatever it was that was eating at him.

You maneuvered yourself to swing your legs over the bed captiously and sort out your stiff limbs without making any sudden quick movements. Zemo silently held out his arm in an offer of assistance, should you need it.

"Are Sam and Bucky not back yet? I can't imagine they would let you stay here and watch over me," you glanced at Zemo, trying to make light of the heaviness hanging in the room. You used your good arm to brace yourself on the nightstand next to you to push off of and stand up.

Zemo lowered his arm and stood up from his seat once he saw you were okay to move about on your own. You saw him turn his head towards the door which was cracked opened slightly before facing you fully.

"They did come back briefly early this morning to check on you. And you are correct, James did, in fact, kick me out, but both he and Sam left again for a few hours. They should be making their return soon. I must have dozed off at some point when I came back to check on you, so thank you for waking me. I would like to avoid a confrontation from either Sam or James," Zemo worded carefully.

You felt as if he were leaving something out, but decided against calling him out on it.

"I appreciate you staying, but you didn't really need to," you replied earnestly, shrugging a shoulder.

"On the contrary, I am the reason you are in the state you are in. It was the very least I could do," Zemo said.

You knitted your brow together and moved to look at Zemo more closely. Lips pursed, it was your turn to be confused.

"I'm not following. You weren't even here when everything went down with Walker yesterday," you expressed slowly and hesitantly.

Maybe it was just too early in the morning to have sensible conversation.

Zemo shook his head and stepped close enough that you could smell his cologne again. He raised his hand to trace the bruise forming across your collarbone.

"Walker was searching for me. And you, you put yourself in harm's way to protect me, indirectly as it was. Whatever your reasonings were, I cannot remember the last time someone was willing to show such an act of resilience, of kindness towards me. And for that, I owe you my deepest and most sincere thanks," Zemo clarified to you. It did not go unnoticed the hidden layer of emotion laced in his voice as he spoke to you.

You could have just brushed his comment off with an excuse that Walker was such a pain in the ass, you refused to give him up on the preface you simply wanted to piss him off.

But that would be a lie, mostly.

Instead you grabbed Zemo's hand, the one that was tracing your battle scars from the previous day and lifted it high enough so that you could wrap your right arm lightly around his torso and your left arm around his shoulders and into a hug.

As you snuggled up against him, careful not to disrupt your injuries, you turned your head so that your nose barely touched his jaw and whispered into his ear, "You're welcome."

Unlike the first hug the two of you shared, there were no death grips this time. This hug held so much more. An acceptance of one another. A promise.

Reluctantly, you untangled yourself from Zemo to peer up at him.

His gaze roamed over your face, searching. He brought his hand back up to rub his thumb gently over your cheek.

He had that look on his face again. The one that looked like he was fighting with himself about something. Then you saw his eyes drop to your lips and back up to your eyes.

Oh.

You leaned into his touch ever so slightly. This was probably a very bad idea, and you shouldn't let this continue.

"Zemo," you breathed.

He dropped his head against yours and dragged the tip of his nose down the bridge of yours.

"Helmut. You can call me Helmut," he murmured.

Your hands were flat against his chest and you hesitate lifting your head to close remaining distance between you to kiss him.

"Helmut," you voiced, the soft resonance of your vocals floating through the room.

You saw him shut his eyes, a small twitch of his lips curl in an upward motion before he opened them again.

He must have sensed your hesitation because he drew back, but only enough to get a read on your face.

"I apologize, I shouldn't have -" he started rambling, dropping his head to reprimand himself.

You draw your hands up from his chest to his neck to prevent him from stepping away. You needed to make sure he understood.

"No, Helmut. That's not - this is okay, I just -" you paused, giving yourself a moment to make sure you word what you want to say to him next properly.

"I can see the conflicted look on your face. I just - I would never," you trailed off, gathering some courage, you drew in a deep breath before continuing, "I would never want to put you in a position where you felt that you were disrespecting the memory of your wife."

There. You had said it. Zemo had been through so much and you couldn't let him kiss you if he still felt like he would betray the memories of his family.

Even if it were for one brief and fleeting moment between you two, you couldn't do that to him. And you wanted him to make peace with everything on his terms, and not just for the emotional roller-coaster you're on, whatever it may be that lies between you both.

You felt him stiffen in his stance, clearly not expecting you to say something like that to him.

He looked at you for a few moments before twisting his head to stare out the window. He had dipped his head in contemplation and turned back to you.

You could feel him shutter a few deep breaths and when you met his gaze again there were tears glistening in his eyes.

His mouth opened and closed, but no words had come out. You could see him struggling with what he wanted to say.

"It's okay. You don't owe me any answers right now," you said. You tried to give him a reassuring smile.

Zemo huffed as he blinked back his tears and shook his head.

"Schatz. You truly are a piece of work," he said, a mixture of amusement and awe heard in his voice.

Zemo opened his mouth to say something else, but you heard the entrance to the apartment open and the voices of Sam and Bucky trailing.

You both turned your head to the door in mild alarm. Without much time, as you're sure one of your friends will be making a bee line to check on you, you start to unzip Zemo's hoodie you went to sleep with last night.

Helmut's eyebrows shot into his hairline and his eyes widened in shock at your undressing in front of him.

You give him an outrageous expression, as you carefully remove your injured arm from the garment and then your other, before handing it to him.

He took the garment hesitantly, a look of confusion on his face.

"An excuse as to why you were in my room, as I'm sure they are going to want to know why you're still in here. There's no way one of them won't spot you leaving. At least you'll have a good reason," you explained rapidly, trying to keep your voice from reaching Bucky's ears.

Zemo nodded in agreement at your cleverly crafted plan, and moved to exit the room. He paused at the door and looked back to you. You could tell he wanted to say something before leaving.

Later. You mouthed to him.

He sighed, but you knew he understood this wasn't the right time to have an extended conversation.

You saw him poke his head out the door before ducking back in to give you a mischievous expression.

You narrowed your eyes at his sudden mood change.

He left your room and could hear him faintly walk down the hall. You turned to walk to your in-suite bathroom when you heard a large clatter and shout from Sam.

"Bucky!"

"It wasn't me! you heard Bucky reply.

There was a snicker and then a door closing from not too far away.

"Zemo!" You heard both Sam and Bucky shout this time. Foot steps followed and some banging on the door down the hall. Hushed whispers could be heard after that.

You continued your journey to a nice shower and some pain killers. Yup. Never a dull moment around these guys.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

[nctsjiho]

Jam Session

warnings: none

era: Summer of 2020

❀ Mark and JiHo have a little jam session in her room

A soft knock sounded at the door of JiHo’s room. She hummed loud enough for the person behind the door to hear and soon after the door opened. JiHo looked up from her position on her bed, where she had made herself comfortable with her phone in her hand. In the doorway stood a sheepish looking boy with wide innocent eyes. A chuckle pushed past JiHo’s lips as she eyed Mark’s timid figure. “What’s up?”

Mark took a step into the room and held up his guitar that he had brought down from his dorm, five floors up. With a confused look JiHo spoke, “You know Haechan’s room is on the other side of the hallway right?” The boy just ignored her and settled down in front of her on her bed.

“I’m not here for Haechan.” This confused JiHo more. It wasn’t unusual for Mark to come down here with his guitar. The members would sometimes have evening jam sessions - though usually they would be held on the 10th floor since the 5th floor had some uptight neighbours. When it was just Mark and his guitar coming over, it was either because him and Haechan wanted to practise some covers and play around a bit, or him and Taeyong were planning out some potential NCT or SuperM songs. So it came as a bit of a shock to hear that Mark wasn’t planning on doing either of those things.

“What brings you here then?” The girl squints, curious about why he had come down all this way. “It’s just been a while since we’ve sang together. So I thought-” “Oh no, dude I’m not singing.” JiHo interjected. The boy sighed and threw his head back a little. “Dude, I haven’t heard you sing like this in such a long time!” Mark whined causing JiHo to start feeling bad. “You know I don’t really sing. And definitely not like this.” She motioned to the guitar.

Mark knew that JiHo was insecure about her voice, something that no one understood because she could’ve easily been a main vocalist if she had the confidence for it.

“JiHo listen, I don’t care if you suck or if you sound like an angel. There’s no pressure, no one is watching. It’s literally just us, jamming for fun. I can even bet you that my voice will crack at least once if we sing together.” He explained trying to ease the tension. JiHo smiled a little at his last statement. “Well, your voice cracking, that’s just a given.” She commented with a mischievous grin which had Mark groaning. “Okay fine, but please. Just this one time.” His fingers fidgeted around the strings, like they were waiting for JiHo’s signal to start strumming a song.

A few seconds pass in silence before JiHo exhaled loudly. “Okay! Only this one time. And afterwards don’t you dare bring your guitar anywhere near my room.” Mark nodded excitedly. “I’ll use that guitar right there then.” He joked, pointing towards the guitar sitting in the corner of the room. JiHo rolled her eyes but didn’t comment on it further and Mark began strumming a familiar tune on the instrument in his hands.

Back in 2019 JiHo had once told Mark that ‘Superhuman’ was probably one of, if not her favourite song of theirs. She loved performing that song so much and was sad when the their promotions and the tour ended.  She also shared about how singing it together that one night in the air bnb in Brooklyn was one of her favourite memories. Some of the boys were either drunk or extremely sleepy, but they all sang it together and it became such a fond memory.

That’s why Mark had figured out the cords and a good arrangement to play it on the guitar. An acoustic version specially made for JiHo. The girl’s eyes were looking down to her lap where her hands tapped along to the rhythm of the song and they began to sing. They kind of figured out who was singing what part at what times, with JiHo mostly singing the main vocal line with Mark harmonizing and him taking his own rap parts when JiHo stopped for him to sing.

“If you wanna feel it say yeah~” “Yeah~” Mark added and he let the last note of the guitar ring through the room. The two basked in the lingering mood of the song before Mark spoke up. “You’re such a good singer, you know that right?” JiHo just dismissed the compliment with a wave of her hand and Mark decided to just move on to the next song.

They sang a plethora of different songs. Some being their own, some being mainly rap songs, but most were some Mark thought would really fit JiHo’s voice.

“Once you gain a bit more confidence I swear you can just take Doyoung hyung or Taeil hyung’s parts.” Mark laughed, but he was being somewhat serious. He really believed that JiHo had a great voice and there wouldn’t be a reason for her not to get more vocal lines and high notes in their songs. Not that he didn’t think she wasn’t doing a good job as a rapper. On the contrary, she was doing too good of a job to only get the small amount of lines she does get, but that was just one of the down side of having so many members in a group. There were so many members who didn’t get that many lines, luckily they would get more on side tracks in the album or they would have more parts in a next comeback.

JiHo had only given the boy a sad smile, fully aware that her confidence was the main culprit in her career and her live in general. She wouldn’t like to admit that her confidence - or well, her lack thereof - had gotten in the way of opportunities because she had been quick to turn them down at the thought of stepping out of her comfort zone. The boys knew about this to a certain extent, but if only they knew what kind of jobs and opportunities she had turned down, she would most likely have all of the boys nagging at her.

She was so good at faking her confidence on stage, but when it came to certain things, her confidence tanked completely and she’d rather turn away one of the best things that could ever happen to her, than to confront it and possibly get engulfed by anxiety. Luckily she didn’t always have to fake confidence, she was pretty happy with her dance and rap skills and she didn’t care too much about looks as she kept her body healthy and in good shape almost all of the time. It was mostly the singing that made her anxious so she was happy for the amazing vocalists in her group being in charge of all that responsibility.

Mark had stood up and sent the girl a thumbs up. “Cheer up, dude. You did really great and I had a lot of fun.” “Yeah, I actually had a lot of fun as well.” A playful smile formed on the boy’s lips. “So tomorrow again?” Before JiHo could protest Mark walked out the room. “See you tomorrow!” JiHo rolled her eyes at Mark’s antics, but smiled when he heard Haechan stop him in the room and yell at him for betraying him and not coming to sing with him instead.

She actually hadn’t mind singing with Mark. Initially she was a bit nervous, but then again it was only him and her and if anyone else were to hear her it was only going to be her roommates who’ve already heard her sing enough times before. Not quite sure if Mark was actually going to stop by the next day to sing together again, JiHo got herself ready to go and sleep. This time she didn’t dread the thought of singing and for once was kind of excited to sing.

---

Side note: This wasn’t really Mark focused ig (?? idk), so I’m gonna try to do another Mark post soon-ish (don’t count on it). This idea just came to me an hour ago and I only have a few hours left before I post this, so I wrote it pretty quickly. It’s not really that good of a post so I’m sorry for that. (if you haven’t, my previous post ‘Still My Favourite’ with Jeno was pretty cute so you could read that one, I posted it yesterday ^^ shameless self promo on my own blog wow-)

[kenmasgameboy]

ruin me.

chapter 8: who?

previous…next

masterlist

kuroo tetsurou came into y/n’s life when she needed him to fuck it up the most.

Kuroo tapped the notebook you where you were rewriting your notes for better organization. You looked over, eyes wide with the sudden eye contact he made. Fuck, he’s so hot. You thought this to yourself and had to look away.

“When do you have to close up?” Kuroo asked, his voice smooth in your ear as you become painfully aware of his gaze.

“Half an hour.” You mumbled, checking your watch. Thanks to the silence around you he still heard you.

“Perfect, uh.” Kuroo nervously fiddled with his pencil, trying to prepare himself to be rejected, “Could I walk you home when you’re done?”

“What?” You practically choke it out, your skin feeling hot and sweaty under your current predicament.

“It’s just getting late, I think Inuoka had to have gone home by now if you were planning on going with him. But I’d love to walk you. I really don’t mind.” Kuroo insisted. You gripped the page of your book, crinkling the corner of it between your thumb and index finger.

“Kuroo-san?” You finally gain the courage to say something above a mumble.

“You don’t have to be so formal—” Kuroo started but you needed to let it out before you swallowed it back down forever.

“Why are you messing with me? I know I tweeted that thing but I didn’t think you’d ever see that. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” You said it in practically one long breath, trying to get it all out of your chest like blowing it into a balloon.

“What tweet? Oh the one where you said I was some good fucking food, something about being a delicious specimen, right?” He flashed a handsome teasing grin your way. Your whole body felt like cringing, curling in on itself until you turned into seafoam but restricted it to just your hands curling and your face wincing. Why did you ever forget the internet is forever?

“I’m just teasing you. Of course, I’m flattered. But I was interested in knowing who you were before I even saw that.” He insisted, his genuine smoothness spilling across the table.

“Oh.” You said, quickly turning your face into your opposite shoulder as to hide the panic and flustered expression you surely are wearing. Kuroo wanted to see that face so bad. A light breath was exhaled from his nose as he held back his laugh, you were amusing though he would give you that.

“Why don’t I walk you home?” He repeated himself. You remembered Inuoka’s long gone and the dark of the night had already settled in. You couldn’t walk home alone, but walking home with a guy you didn’t know very well also didn’t sound like a fun risk.

“Y/N-chan?” Your class representative suddenly had approached the desk, Nakamura Satoshi. You hadn’t spoken to him much, only when he needed you to do a certain task. He was #1 in your year, and was extremely popular with the staff and faculty. He wasn’t exactly Kuroo’s status with popularity, but he was up there. There was no doubt people knew who they were. And they knew who each other were.

You were so thankful that nobody else was in this library. As this would be quite the sight for anyone to see. Two of some of the most popular boys at this school hanging around the loner librarian assistant. What was next? Was an idol going to come try to talk to you as well? You set a reminder in your head to punch Inuoka for leaving you alone tonight.

“Ah, Satoshi-kun, I’m sorry I forgot you were here. Can I help you find something? I was about to close up.” You smiled lightly at him. Your interaction with this guy made Kuroo want to put his fist directly into Nakamura’s face. Did he not see he was working on something over here? He just had to come ruin it, huh? Why were you so familiar with each other? Kenma said you didn’t talk to anyone. Kuroo’s patience was coming to a stifling end.

“Ah not exactly, I’m sorry to keep you past your shift. Is the librarian coming to relieve you?” Satoshi asked you,

“No, I’m locking up tonight. She texted me a little while ago to let me know she couldn’t come back to do it.” You said. Kuroo was getting antsy, starting to pack up his things as he tried to urge this kid to stop talking. He was getting the need to be petty, jealous of how comfortable you were with him.

“Oh, I see.” He said, returning his voice to a normal level since nobody else was here, “I was wondering if you could help me understand this assignment from English? You got second highest in that subject last term, right?”

“Well, yeah. Second to you?” You turned your head to the side in confusion, but Kuroo didn’t miss a beat in understanding this guys game plan.

“I could help you.” Kuroo smiled nonchalant, playing coy as if he didn’t know a thing.

“Oh, Kuroo-san! My apologies, I didn’t see you there.” Satoshi bowed and smiled politely. Immediately it was like a surge of lightening went through both of their eyes, their competitive natures being at opposing sides with each other.

“No worries, I scored #1 in english the last 3 years, I don’t mind helping you.” Kuroo said, trying to draw his attention away from you.

“That’d be great, but I’d feel like I was cheating if i got help from someone as advanced as you. Besides, Y/N-chan always takes the best notes from what we covered in class today. I swear! They’re always better than mine.” Satoshi was being light-hearted but not even you could deny the air had gotten thicker.

“It’s okay, um. Is it this one? I’ll admit it was kind of difficult. Learning when to use past, present, and future tense verbs can get rather difficult especially if it changes mid-sentence.” You said this while looking down at the identical sheets, trying to ignore that half of the answer bubbles looked like they used to have writing in them but had been erased. But Kuroo certainly couldn’t ignore that.

“I know, I’ve been kinda struggling with it. Kuroo-san, this could take a little while. You shouldn’t have to wait for Y/N-chan. I can walk her home.” Satoshi tried to wave him off. Kuroo stood up, using his height to his advantage over Satoshi who was probably only 4 inches shorter than Kuroo, but still enough to make his point.

“I don’t mind waiting, I already got my studies done for the day. No need to rush.” Kuroo insisted, “Besides, L/N already told me she wanted me to walk her home.”

“I don’t remember her saying that.” Satoshi pointed out, causing Kuroo’s eyes to widen. So, he had been listening to them. “Y/N-chan, do you mind staying with me, I’d love your input about a few other things for our class? I’ll walk you home and buy you something from the vending machine.”

You wanted to explode. Right then and there felt like the perfect time to just implode actually, so why couldn’t you spontaneously combust.

“Uh..” You nervously fiddled with the end of your uniform sweater, you looked up to Kuroo for some kind of answer. You don’t know why you had done that, you just felt like he would help you in this. Inuoka normally would be that person for you, but now out of the two in front of you, you go to Kuroo. But he just stared down Satoshi instead, when you made eye contact with him you backed down again. You panicked under his gaze. He registered that look you were giving him a second too late, “Kuroo-san, I would feel bad making you wait for me. It’s okay to go on without me.”

Kuroo wished he could back track, he wished he had the right authority to just pick you up and take you with him. He wished he could’ve gone back to when you looked at him with those panicked eyes looking for an answer and answered for you again so that you would feel like you had an ally. Satoshi didn’t skip a single beat, he took the seat Kuroo had been sitting in for the last few hours to make sure he could be even closer to you than he had been to immediately start asking you questions to ignore Kuroo.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, L/N.” Kuroo couldn’t help but hang his head with his defeat. As soon as Kuroo left through the front doors, the rubber band you felt between the two of you that had been getting pulled tighter and tighter was cut by the doors of the library. It snapped back and hit the air out of your chest. You felt weaker without him, like you couldn’t focus on what Satoshi was asking you even though you were more familiar with him he never gave you the same feeling of blissful silence in the way Kuroo gave you today.

You didn’t know that Kuroo was going to give you up that easy. You didn’t know that he wasn’t. That he was waiting down the hall waiting for you to leave with that guy with you so he could prove his own suspicions. He was never going to give up that easily.

***

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a/n wOW WHAT A MASSIVE CHAPTER! let me know what you guys think <3 a bit more drama-filled than normal hehe