#hmm maybe i should make him a little less serious than wash. like he's more chill? idk

[tvckerwash]

J.D felt horrible about it, but with everything that had happened the last few months—Hell, the last few years—He had admittedly somewhat forgotten that Terrence existed.

Looking through Connie’s data, dealing with corporate civilian bureaucracy, and being “demoted” into doing menial grunt work aboard the Staff of Charon has taken up the bulk of his time since returning from Longshore, so he hasn't gone to visit the guy and offer morale support during his grueling physical therapy sessions in quite a while.

Apparently, having a building collapse on top of you and needing surgical reconstruction of a large portion of the bones in your body really, really sucked.

J.D mentally grimaced at the prospect of speaking to the temperamental man. He had been waiting to tell him about their team until he was officially discharged from medical, and only after Sharky came to terms with the loss would he even think about introducing Connie into the mix. The man's hatred of the Freelancers was, understandably, incredibly intense.

He loved Sharky, he really did, and he wouldn't trade him for anyone else, but Terrance could be annoyingly stubborn and overly dramatic, and a lack of any semblance of a proper chain of command didn't make his job any easier. The guy just didn't respect his experience and skill as an ODST like the others did, which was beyond frustrating at times.

(God, what a mess). He sighed, bringing a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

[rafescoke]

Older ; Rafe Cameron

masterlist

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: Maybe falling in love with a Maybank wouldn’t be too bad.

Warnings: Mentions of sexual abuse!, alcohol, getting intoxicated, sexual harassment, swearing, sweet Rafe Cameron

A/N: I don’t think this is my best fic, but let me know if I should continue this mini series!! thank you so much for 500+ followers, ily <33

p.s; you know the drill.. send requests!

(Y/N) wondered if a boy like him would ever like a girl like her.

It’s the soft touches against her skin, you see, that got her all worked up at work. She had a bad day at school, getting in a fight with her brother over not washing the dishes piling up in the sink, and there he was;

In his blue plaid shirt, his hair messily parted and that beautiful smile of his. He laughed at something the girl in front of him had said, and (Y/N) felt a pang of hurt across her heart.

“Go. Table 7.”

“What? I’m on my break!” She huffed, picking up her half-eaten sandwich and motioning it to the manager. “I have 10 minutes left.”

“We’re short of staff today,” he grunted, trying to balance the tray and an iPad on both hands. “Please.”

“Do I get more pay this month?”

“I’ll think about it,” he grumbled, and handed her the tray as she wrapped the sandwich again. “Oh, can you tell your brother that he’s fired? He didn’t come for his shift again today.”

“Not my problem,” she mumbled, taking the tray into her hands before proceeding to the diners. Her eyes swept over the many tables, and stopped at the seventh table from the front.

Fuck.

She swallowed her saliva, trying to contain her nervousness as she walked towards the table. She hoped against hope he wouldn’t notice her and continue to talk to whoever she was in front of him, but she wasn’t that lucky.

“Hey,” Rafe said softly, looking up to her. (Y/N) smiled weakly, not wanting to pull any attention towards her and hurried up to serve them.

“Hey, um-” the girl before him stopped her, and (Y/N) turned to look at her with her usual server smile. She hates it. “The pasta’s cold, can I get a new one?”

“Come on, Dee, it’s not that big of a deal,” Rafe said, but (Y/N) tried her hardest to maintain the smile. She couldn’t care less about her pasta, and she wouldn’t even bat an eye if an animal had crawled into her meal.

“I’ll reheat it for you,” she smiled fakely, picking up the plate before walking back towards the kitchen. Her smile completely disappeared when she pushed through the door separating the dining area and the kitchen, and proceeded to the cook.

“Another bitch?”

“Another bitch,” she sighed, and watched as the cook laughed and placed the pasta in the microwave. “You know, John, I really wish I don’t have to work in a restaurant.”

“It gives money, so I ain’t complaining much,” he mumbled, fiddling with the buttons on the stove. “But you’re still so young, mija. Don’t stress yourself too much. Where’s the brother?”

“JJ? I don’t know. He didn’t even come to school today. I wish he’s a better brother.”

“He is,” he shrugged, watching the timer counted down to signal the end of the reheating process. “He’s just ain’t showing it. They’ll appear.”

“What’ll appear?”

“The love.”

(Y/N) laughed, flatting her tray against the metal surface to let the cook placed the reheated pasta. “There’s no such thing as love, John. It’s all made up for little girls to believe.”

“Are you not a little girl?”

(Y/N) smiled, muttered a ‘thank you’ before proceeding to table number 7. She took a deep breath and forced herself to form the most politest smile ever, and placed the pasta in front of the girl, or Dee, or whatever Rafe was calling her.

“Thanks,” she muttered, not looking at her, but (Y/N) couldn’t help but noticed the side glance Rafe had given her during their brief meeting, but she didn’t want to dwell so much on that thought, not when she needed to make an amount of money to help put food for her family.

“You’re back late.”

“Sorry dad, I was working,” she sighed, placing her house keys on the table. “Have you eaten?”

Luke swatted his hands, motioning that he’s content. (Y/N) sighed a breath of relief, not feeling like making him anything and was just asking out of politeness.

“Your pants are a little bit tight today.”

(Y/N) stopped in her tracks and closed her eyes, the sudden wave of fear engulfing her. She bit her lips before turning to her father, “It’s the only pair I have left. The others are still in the laundry bag.”

“Hmm,” Luke hummed, his eyes still intently glued on the television screen. (Y/N) heard the soaring of a football game, and prayed it was his team that had won the match so that he wouldn’t be as cross.

“I’m going to my room, okay?”

“Wait-”

Her chest was heaving heavily now, being so afraid of her own father that she could feel her tears starting to form. She forced a weak smile, “Yeah?”

She didn’t realise how he had gotten up from his previous seat in front of the television, being so caught up with the warnings inside her head. He leaned onto her, smelling her scent, and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.

“You’re not out with any boys, are you?”

“No,” she whispered, and she gripped onto the hem of her work top. “Dad, can I please go?”

“Why are you so scared?” He continued, his pointer grazing against her ear to her cheeks. “I’m your dad, remember?”

“Dad?”

Luke pulled away from her and walked towards the television again when a certain blonde boy appeared from the front door, his eyebrows furrowed. JJ’s eyes followed his father’s movement, and ended at the sight of his sister.

The tightness in his body softened as he took a step closer to her, “You’re okay?”

“Yeah,” she mumbled, wiping the hot tears away from her face and giving him a weak smile. “I’m just going to stay in my room, okay?”

“Okay,” JJ said, watching as she walked slowly towards the back of the house. He glanced at his father, silent as ever, and muttered something under his breath before making his way to his room as well.

JJ Maybank hates Luke Maybank more than anything else in the world, but he also loves him more than anything else in the world. He had wished for nothing else other than his father actually being a father figure for (Y/N), if not him. He could see how much she needed Luke to become some kind of a guardian.

Every time there was a PTA meeting, it had been John to come and see her teachers. John had joked a lot of times before, saying how he’s going to adopt her one day, and when JJ was just 14, he used to get so overprotective of his sister that he would pull a face and gesture some kind of a rude word at him.

But if that's what it takes for her to finally be safe, he’s willing to lose her.

“Hey,” JJ knocked on her door softly, and he waited quietly to hear her shuffle of movements. He waited a few more seconds, and when heard the lock unlocking, forced himself a smile.

“Do you want to go to the bonfire party tonight?” He asked, raising his eyebrows to motion how serious he was. JJ never liked bringing (Y/N) to see the other pogues, and he had tried to assure himself that it was because of how she’s a year younger, but he couldn’t deny the real truth;

(Y/N) knew about his huge crush towards Kie, and the last time she hang out with them resulted into him having to tackle her down before she could say anything to the girl.

“Is Kie not coming or something?” (Y/N) made a face, but JJ could see the happy glint in her eyes.

“Can you drop that topic already?” He sighed, “Are you coming or not?”

“Um-” she glanced at something behind her back, sighed, and nodded slowly. “Okay. I guess I could use some time off schoolwork.”

“Don’t stress too much about school,” JJ shrugged, “You’re still 17.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, “Can you go, now? And oh, you’re fired by the way.”

“They love me, they’ll hire me again,” JJ shrugged, and gave her another comforting smile before making his way back to his room. “You know you can always tal-”

“No, I don’t know,” she groaned playfully, closing the door against his face as JJ laughed. His heart soared, and he swore he would do anything in his will to protect his sister from their father, heartbreak, or whatever.

. . .

“I missed you!” Kie exclaimed, pulling her into a hug and giving her a kiss on her cheeks. “God, you’re taller than me now.”

(Y/N) glanced at her brother, to which he was motioning his thumb against his neck, trying to tell her that he would kill her if she says anything to the girl. (Y/N) laughed, “I missed you too, Kie.”

(Y/N) situated herself beside Pope, watching as he flicked through his Chemistry text book, and scribbled something a note on one of the pages.

“Isotopes has the same number of protons but different number of neutrons,” (Y/N) mumbled, pointing to false knowledge he’ve written. Pope looked at her, amazed, and let out the loudest laugh ever that JJ had to scream from the front for him to shut up.

“Shit, (Y/N),” he continued to laugh, erasing his mistake and jotting down the correct information. “And you’re younger. Do you hear that JJ?”

“What?” JJ yelled back, his eyes focusing on the road.

“Maybe you should be as clever as your sister,” Pope laughed, and Kie gave him a high-five from the front seat. He turned to look at her again, “Where’d you learn that?”

“JJ’s text book.”

Pope laughed, his head shaking at the thought of JJ sleeping while his sister sneaked into his room to steal his text book. He finally understood the reason why he was always in detention for not bringing his book.

“Stay close, and don’t wander away,” JJ warned, staring straight into her eyes. She laughed at his tone, but her smile disappeared when he pulled her again.

“I mean it, (Y/N).”

“Are you seriously turning into dad, now?”

“Don’t mention his name,” he sighed, fixing his hair and walking before him with his friends. “Just stay close, okay?”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, already seeing how boring her night was going to be; trying to understand the inside jokes between JJ and his friends, not being allowed to drink any alcohol and is going to be constantly asked to fix her ribbed top so not much of her skin is exposed.

She sighed, following her brother, but as soon as they got further away she felt the need to just hang out, maybe searching for her friends and getting a drink for herself. She was never a fan of alcohol, so JJ really didn’t have to worry about her getting drunk.

“You’re (Y/N), right?”

(Y/N) looked up to a pair of gorgeous green eyes, and she felt her heart sink. She looked away, not expecting her best friend’s boyfriend, and sighed.

“What do you need, Carter? I’m looking for Emily too.”

“Oh, she’s not coming,” he shrugged, standing beside her. She felt the sudden warmth and scooted further, not wanting to allow any attention towards her. “Something about a stomach ache.”

“Why aren’t you resting with her?” She pulled a look, crossing her arms. She didn’t want to talk to him or even look at him, but he didn’t seem to get that note.

“And pass up this year’s bonfire party? Nah,” he sipped on his red cup, and leaned against her. She could feel his lips beside her ear now, “Wanna get a drink?”

“I don’t drink.”

“Come on,” he expressed, throwing his arms up into the air in fake exasperation. “It’s a party. You cannot enjoy a party without being drunk.”

“Hm,” she shrugged, still not interested. She thought about what else she could say to get him away from her. “Worth trying, I guess.”

“You are damn impossible to please, Maybank,” Carter laughed, showing his pearly white teeth. (Y/N) smiled at this, taking the statement into a compliment, and made to walk away. He grabbed her wrist before she could get away, and she sighed in annoyance.

“One drink,” he smiled. “And I’ll leave you alone.”

(Y/N) thought about this, long and hard, and the sudden thought of wanting to be free for once entered her mind. She gave him a small nod.

“One drink.”

“One drink,” he confirmed, and pulled her to the drinks section. (Y/N) waited for him to get her a drink, her eyes swarming over the sea of people dancing, some talking, some already kissing and some just standing. This was her third bonfire party in Obx, and the party didn’t get any boring.

“Here you go,” Carter appeared, placing the red cup into her hands. “Let’s chug it down together. Are you ready? 1, 2, 3!”

(Y/N) scrunched up her face at the strong taste of vodka, feeling her throat burning. It felt good though, especially when you are in need to forget some hesvy things in your mind.

“What do you say?” Carter smiled, “Want more?”

“I’ll try more,” she laughed, giving him the cup as he muttered ‘I told you so’ and came back with another cup. They counted together again, and (Y/N) never felt better after drinking an intoxicating drink.

She didn’t remember why she never liked alcohol, but at that moment, she felt like drinking her money and family issues away. She didn’t even realise when Carter had placed his arms around her, telling her humourless jokes that she laughed at anyways.

“Wanna go to my car?”

“Huh?” She looked at him, half-smiling and half-frowning. She was at her 7th cup now, but being a lightweight person, she felt like she was on her 30th cup. “What for?”

“Driving around town,” he smiled, standing up and offering his hand. “Wanna drive around with me?”

“Just you?” She mumbled, closing her eyes. She could feel his arms around her, trying to help her walk, but she didn’t have enough energy to push him away. If anything, she was glad he had brought her away from the loud music that made her dizzy.

“Where’s the car?” (Y/N) whined, feeling her arms hurting from the rough grip by Carter. She could hear the crunch of twigs under her feet, and when she finally had an ounce of power to see her surroundings, she saw the empty car park near the beach.

“Carter, I don’t feel so good,” she said, trying to push him away. The grip around her tightened, and she had never felt so panicked as she was at that time. She tried to calm down, still looking for anyone who can help her, but the parking lot was deserted.

“Carter, I can walk,” she tried again, but he didn’t let go. She understood the whole situation clearly now, and wished she had stayed with JJ and his friends instead of wandering around by herself.

“Hey, hey, hey.”

Carter stopped walking, cursing while he turned to look at the voice behind him. (Y/N) grunted, feeling her arms bruising, and she couldn’t even glance up to see who it was that saved her. She could feel her eyesight getting darker as she leaned on Carter for some type of balance.

“Where are you going?”

“None of your business,” Carter groaned, still holding her by his side. “Don’t you have anything to do? Like golf, or something.”

“Nah,” the voice replied, and (Y/N) perked up at the way his voice sounded. It was all so familiar to her. . .

“Look, Cameron, just go, okay? I’m not in your business, so stay out of mine,” Carter huffed, walking backwards slowly. “And she’s with me, right, (Y/N), you’re with me?”

“Let her go, man,” Rafe sighed, “I’m making it easy for you. Let her go.”

“Come on, I’m not letting you take her with you,” he shrugged, “Rafe. I swear. You don’t want to mess with me.”

“Aren’t you a little bit too old for her?” Rafe raised a brow, “Aren’t you my age, or something?”

“Fuck!” Carter yelled, and (Y/N) gasped from the sudden pain coursing through her veins at the jerk. “Go and fuck off.”

“You’re not leaving me a choice, man,” Rafe said, and before anyone could process, Carter was down to the ground, yelling at Rafe for him to stop as he kept throwing punches after punches, his forehead creasing and his knuckles ripping.

(Y/N) groaned from the ground, unable to get up, and she swore he had drugged her. She was never this weak, not even when she was sick, and she hated how she couldn’t even lift a finger.

“Don’t fucking touch her again!” Rafe yelled, spitting on the groaning boy as he grunted against the pain, his knuckles all bruised up and bloody.

“Hey, you’re okay?” Rafe asked, helping her to her feet. (Y/N) nodded, still so weak, and wrapped her hands around his arms as he watched her limped.

“You know what? Let me carry you,” he sighed, looking at the previous space where he had had a fight with Carter. He was nowhere to be seen now, and Rafe didn’t think he could fight him off for the second time, not when he’s tired.

“I can walk,” she mumbled, trying to push him off, but even a second after he let her go she tripped onto the road, and grunted at her burning knees. “My knees, oh my god, I’m in so much pain!”

“Let me carry you,” he sighed again, squatting to her level. She looked so sad, pouting her lips and her eyebrows all scrunched down. She shook her head when he tried to hold her, crossing her arms.

“(Y/N), let me carry you.”

“I don’t even know you!” She spat, her eyes glassy and her cheeks red. Rafe didn’t know she would be like this when she was drunk, but he couldn’t deny the amusement he was feeling.

“Of course you know me,” he tried again, slowly wrapping his fingers around her wrist. “It’s Rafe.”

“I don’t know any Rafe.”

“It’s Rafael Cameron,” Rafe rolled his eyes, cringing at the sound of his full name. He never liked the name, saying how it made him look like some type of a knight in 1823, but it was one of the only memories left of his real mother.

“I know a Rafael,” she nodded. “But he don’t look like you.”

“(Y/N), let’s just go before some creep decides to kidnap you,” he pulled her up, to which she obliged at the sound of ‘kidnapping’. “I’ll send you to your house, okay?”

“No!” She pulled him close, hugging him tightly that he was too stunned to react. His arms weren’t even touching her, stopping midway, and he only hugged her back when she cried.

“He’s gonna be mad at me,” she whimpered, tugging on his collar. “And he’s going to beat me up and-”

“Wait, wait, who?” He pulled her off, watching as she looked at him with those eyes again. Rafe furrowed his eyebrows, his chest heaving. “Does JJ do-”

“Not JJ,” she cried, and pulled him towards a random car. “Can I please just stay with you until the next morning? Please.”

“Are you sure?” Rafe looked around, and he thought about Dee who was waiting for him at the party. He shook his head at the thought, not wanting to put her first. “We can stay somewhere else?”

(Y/N) nodded frantically, and Rafe thought about the truth behind all of her words. She was never this miserable, looking all happy when he sees her at the restaurant, taking orders with that goddamn smile and laughing at the unfunny jokes old men would give her just for some tips.

Without him knowing, the restaurant by the bay became one of his top favourite restaurants, but it wasn’t because of the food. Rafe never really liked their steaks, always preferring the one closer to the country club, but he was willing to put aside his cravings for that one certain waitress.

“Okay,” he nodded, leading her to the jeep parked a few cars away. She looked so tired, her hair messily tucked behind her ears, her makeup smudged, and Rafe felt a sudden wave of relief for being there in the parking lot to grab his phone in the car.

The drive was silent, and Rafe even thought that she had gone to sleep. When he looked at her from the corners of his eyes, he was surprised to see her silently staring at the dark view outside, unmoving.

He parked outside of the hotel he usually goes to when he’s in need for some alone time, checking the time on his phone before helping her out. She didn’t say a word to him, keeping her head down, only inching closer when they were on their way up to their room.

(Y/N) never been to a fancy hotel like this, only staying in a small hotel in Spain with her aunt 4 summers ago, so she was quite bewildered when she looked around the room. She bit her lips, staring at the one queen bed, and turned to look at him.

“Are we sharing a bed?”

“Oh, no, we don’t have to,” Rafe quickly said, trying to calm her down. “I think you should sleep it off. I’ll stay on the sofa.”

“Okay, thanks.”

But she couldn’t close her eyes. Every time she tried to sleep it off, she would think about Luke with his hands around her face, forcing her to look up to his eyes and whispering sweet-nothings into her ear. JJ never knew about this, and (Y/N) never wanted to tell him out of fear and disappointment, so she had been keeping the secret for a really long time.

“Rafe?���

“Hmm?”

“Thanks for bringing me here.”

“It’s nothing,” he huffed, and (Y/N) heard him shift. The sound of a pillow hitting the floor blared throughout the dark room, and (Y/N) felt bad about letting him sleep on the sofa, especially when he was the one who had brought her to the hotel.

“You can stay in the bed with me.”

“Really? I can’t do that.”

“Why?” She asked, because she really didn’t mind sharing a bed with Rafe Cameron. It wasn’t like she was going to attack him.

“Just because.”

“Is it because you don’t like me?” She asked, and she heard an amused laugh coming from the sofa.

“Trust me, you’re wrong on that one,” he replied simply, and (Y/N) had to think of what he said again.

Wrong?

“Is it because I’m a minor?”

“We’re only 2 years apart.”

“So what’s the problem?” She pressed, because she couldn’t understand why he couldn’t just sleep on the same bed as her. They didn’t have to be all pushed up to each other. . .

“Because,” he sighed, “I’m scared.”

“Of what?”

“Of stuff.”

“Rafe, I don’t understand,” she closed her eyes, her mind woozy from the back and forth fight with the boy.

Rafe sighed again, licking his lips before standing up from the sofa. “Okay, but I’m not a creep, okay?”

“So it is because I’m a minor,” she nodded to herself, and she felt a sudden wave of disappointment. If only she was a year older.

“Whatever,” he breathed, trying to get the best position under the covers. He felt her fingers and quickly pulled his hand away, his heart beating.

“You’re weird.”

“I just said I’m scared,” he shrugged, and finally settled comfortably. He felt so much better now, not having to pull his legs together and crossed his arms just to fit on the sofa.

“What if I do want you to sleep with me on the bed?”

“Shut up,” he groaned.

“No, Rafe, what if I do want you-”

“Shut up before I make you.”

(Y/N)’s eyes went wide, and she thought of the many times she had repeated this exact line in a movie and how she had romanticised her own scenario to that line. She never thought of Rafe Cameron as the protagonist, only imagining Timotheé Chalamet and no one else.

“You’re still drunk, okay?” He suddenly said, and (Y/N) bit her lips at his exasperated tone. “I don’t want to take advantage of you. I’m not Carter.”

“Okay,” she said softly, “I didn’t ask for you to fuck me, though.”

“Really? You’re begging for it right now.”

“I just want you to get comfortable.”

“Hm.”

“You’re full of yourself.”

“Yeah? You should see the eyes you give me at the restaurant,” he replied simply, and he could feel himself thinking of her slightly narrowed eyes, looking straight at him.

He shifted his position, placing a pillow against his front.

“Why didn’t you act on it?”

“Oh god, we’re still on this?” He grunted, “Go to sleep.”

“Why wouldn’t you want to fuck me?”

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, and before she could think about anything else to say to him next, he had pulled her shoulders so that she could look at him.

She squinted against the darkness, using the moonlight as a source of light to stare into his beautiful blue orbs.

“I would fuck you, but I won’t do it when you’re drunk.”

“I’m not drunk.”

“You are, because-” he grazed his thumb against her bottom lip, and she had to hold her breath. “You’re not this open to me when you’re sober.”

“Isn’t it more fun, though? To fuck when you’re drunk?”

“I’d only do that if you’re my girlfriend.”

“So can I be your girlfriend?”

“I’ll think about it tomorrow,” he smiled, and pushed her back to face the ceiling. “Now sleep.”

“What if I want to become your girlfriend now?”

“JJ will kill me.”

“Can you kill him back?”

“(Y/N),” Rafe sighed, being so tired of going back and worth with her on this. Of course he wanted to touch her, more than anything else in the world, but he couldn’t do it when she was in a state like this. “Go to sleep.”

“Okay.”

“Okay. Good girl.”

“Okay.”

He waited a few more minutes, ready to answer any remarks, but what came after was only her soft snores. He sighed in relief, leaning on his arms as he stared at her. He watched as her chest heaved peacefully, feeling all kinds of emotions at once, and he finally realised the truth;

This time he wasn’t playing; Rafe Cameron would never bring a girl to a fancy hotel for nothing other than sex, but here he was; refusing her teasings, and keeping her safe. It finally hit him; he would bring (Y/N) anywhere if that’s the only way to keep her smile.

He shut his eyes, making a mental note to make fun of her drunk state in the morning.

#Part 2

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[witcher-and-his-bard-archive]

Someone Else (I'm Still Right Here)

also on ao3

minor warning for Geralt coming on to Jask when he doesn't know who he is, but nothing comes from it. 

 They've hardly been in town long enough for anything to go wrong and yet, Jaskier finds his thoughts interrupted by banging on the door of their room. If it was Geralt, he would simply let himself in even if he didn't have his hands free to open the door properly, so it must be important. Jaskier rises from the bed, setting his lute aside with a sigh. He detests being interrupted while he's working for anything less than an emergency - and judging by the fact that the knock hasn't come again, this is hardly an emergency.

He saunters to the door, pulling it open to find the face of the innkeeper's wife staring back at him anxiously.

"Sorry to interrupt," she says, "it's your Witcher, sir. Something's happened and no one is... well, they're all afraid to get too close to him. They called in the healer from the next town, but-"

Jaskier frowns. The contract was for a pair of drowners, not even a nest of the damn things. Geralt could have taken them out in his sleep - so what went so terribly wrong?

Jaskier lets himself be led downstairs, doing his best to mask worry with intrigue, but it isn't working. The innkeeper's wife leads him to the edge of the forest where her husband is waiting, a look of pained concern on his face. Jaskier's stomach drops as the man just points into the trees, and he hurries forward without delay. If the people in town won't help Geralt, he will certainly do his best.

When he finds him, Geralt is in a bad state. His eyes are still dark from the potions - probably why the locals wouldn't come near - and there's blood streaked down the side of his face.

Jaskier stays quiet. It's bad enough that Geralt can hear his pulse racing, he doesn't need to make his fear any more obvious to him. He kneels down on the soft ground, assessing the damage before moving him. He's learned from experience that one wrong move can make a wound worse rather than better.

"Okay," he says once he's satisfied. "I'm just gonna pull this off," he taps on Geralt's left pauldron, "make sure your head is the only thing you banged up." Jaskier frowns as he says it, but Geralt seems, as usual, unconcerned. He's much better behaved than usual though, which strikes Jaskier as being particularly odd.

He ignores it and pushes through, tearing an already ripped piece of Geralt's shirt to wipe away some of the blood. Geralt will be grouchy about it later, but if Jaskier replaces it, he can't be too angry. He does his best to clean Geralt's skin and he finds just the one injury - a hefty blow to the head. Not that it seems to be bothering Geralt any.

But when Jaskier cups his jaw, tipping his head to one side, Geralt hums. It catches him off guard and Jaskier jerks back to look at him.

"Your hands feel nice," Geralt breathes and leans into the touch. Okay. So maybe the head injury is more serious than it appears. The innkeeper's wife said a healer was coming, Jaskier will mention it to them when they arrive. Or maybe it's just the blood loss. Either way, the healer will be better prepared to deal with it than he is.

"What are you doing here?" Geralt asks.

"The innkeeper's wife came to collect me. Figured someone ought to come and collect you."

"No one else would even get near me."

"Yes, well, I'm not everyone else, am I?"

"Hmm. Guess not."

Jaskier comes around to look at him, straddling his thighs and Geralt leans forward, resting his head on his shoulder and nuzzling into his neck.

"Yes yes," Jaskier hums, "I know you're tired, darling, but we have to get you up and back to town."

Geralt is reluctant, but he lets himself be hauled to his feet and doesn't even complain about Jaskier propping him up as they make their way back toward town. He's quiet, which is to be expected, but Jaskier is worried that he's keeping something from him, that he's worse off than he seems because Geralt seems quite happy to let himself be assisted - something he would regularly fight against.

As they make it back to the inn, Jaskier knows everyone is watching them and he scolds a couple of them for not offering to help when a man was injured. He takes Geralt up to their room and ducks out from under his arm, leaving him alone for a moment so he can get the fire lit and ready the bed for him. But before he can do either, he finds himself pressed up against the room door with Geralt's face mere inches from his own.

The dark veins and darker eyes are… sexier than they have any right to be and Jaskier swallows back a groan, pressing a gentle hand to Geralt's chest. The Witcher is still woozy and unsteady on his feet, but he resists being pressed back and Jaskier frowns at him.

"Mm, as much fun as this is, I doubt you'll think so highly of me in the morning, darling." Geralt smiles slyly and, for a split second, Jaskier worries that he's become Geralt's quarry, that the toxins running through Geralt's body are really as bad as he always claims they are and that he is, in fact, in real danger around him. But then Geralt leans in, bumping his nose against Jaskier's and any thoughts of fear dissipate immediately.

Instead, Jaskier ducks down and away, holding both arms out as Geralt follows him.

"Geralt," he asks, "what's gotten into you? Not that I mind, but-" he eyes him carefully and Geralt just grins at him again.

"Don't be coy with me, bard, this is what you brought me here for."

"Um. No? I brought you here to rest, to put you to bed not take you to bed, and find you something to eat. This is our room, Geralt, not my room. They only had one left and I didn't think you'd mind-"

"Our room?" Geralt interrupts and Jaskier nods. Worry creeps in and he looks closely at Geralt. His eyes are black still, though the veins are retreating and he seems brighter than usual, not so gloomy.

"Yes?"

"Why would we be sharing a room," Geralt huffs, "I've only just met you."

Jaskier gawks at him. It's not like Geralt to play games, that's Lambert's area of expertise - and this is stupid and obvious even for Lambert's tastes. But something is off about Geralt tonight. The worry turns to fear and Jaskier suddenly wonders if the man he's brought back is his Witcher at all.

He's never met a doppler, but he's heard Geralt tell stories about them. For the most part, they're harmless, but Jaskier suspects they can be paid or bribed like anyone else and the thought of a stranger here in the room with his things, with Geralt's things-

"I thought you wanted sex," maybe-Gealt says again, slightly confused but not at all dissuaded. Normally Jaskier would take it as a compliment that he was still so enthusiastic about fucking him, but this feels very, very wrong. And yet a part of him still considers it.

If it is a doppler, there's no harm really. He's consenting and Jaskier is more than happy to fuck a man with Geralt's face (he doesn't think too much about how that will affect him after it's fine). Right? But there's still a nagging feeling that this isn't a doppler. He'd know, he thinks, if he brought someone else home with him.

"Can you just-" he says, backing up toward the bed where his bag is sitting on the floor. Maybe-Geralt just watches him with confusion as he crouches down and pulls his dagger from his pack.

It's just a little thing, but it's pure silver, gifted to him by Geralt in case of emergency.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Jaskier says, holding it out, "I just need you to touch this."

Maybe-Geralt gives him a questioning look but reaches out and takes the dagger from him, turning it over in his hand. Nothing happens.

"Hmm," he says, "nice weight, well made. A little decorative maybe-"

"Doesn't hurt?" Jaskier asks and maybe-Geralt, who is seeming more and more like just Geralt laughs.

"Not unless you stab someone with it."

Jaskier valiantly ignores the little smirk and shuts his eyes.

"Okay," he says, "start at the beginning, what do you remember?"

"I… woke up in the forest and then you showed up," he smiles at him and Jaskier is already preparing a refusal.

"Listen, Geralt, I am your friend and you would probably even argue that-"

"How come? You're very handsome and you've been helpful and kind-"

"But it's not like that, Geralt. It never has been. I offered once and you were… less than impressed with me." Geralt says nothing and Jaskier takes the opportunity to reign the conversation in. "Can I clean you up now? Something is obviously wrong and we have to get you to a doctor."

"They said a healer was coming."

"I was thinking of someone a little more professional," Jaskier says and Geralt gives him a look. "We have a mutual friend who may be able to help. But for now, you've got me and I'd like to take a look at that wound."

Geralt relents and Jaskier finally succeeds in getting him sat on the bed without Geralt trying to come on to him again. He pulls Geralt's hair back and ties it out of his face, it'll need to be washed later, but he's not going to try and explain how it's fine for him to wash his hair but not fuck him right now.

The wound itself it's so bad, a bit swollen, a bit bruised, but the actual gash is small and very manageable. He cleans it first with water and then with vodka and applies a good amount of salve. He doesn't know which herbs Geralt combines for a poultice, so he bypasses that for the time being; when he gets him to Shani if the wound isn't healed on its own, she'll be able to tend to it.

He finds linen wrap at the bottom of his bag and presses it to Geralt's forehead, gently wrapping it around and tying it at his temple.

"Should be good for now. I'll go down and have supper brought up. Do you want a bath?"

"No. Thank you."

"Alright. Just… stay here, I'll be back."

As soon as the bedroom door is shut, Jaskier closes his eyes, but he waits until he reaches the main floor to lean against the wall and sigh. He has no idea what he's going to do. He never thought he'd be sad to see the day Geralt tried to get him into bed, but it feels so wrong. He'd rather spend the rest of his life failing to impress Geralt than spend another five minutes with him like this.

He takes his time ordering food, half-hoping that Geralt will be asleep by the time he gets back to the room, but their supper is ready quickly and Jaskier reluctantly takes it back up to their room, setting the tray on the table beside the bed.

Geralt at least spares him conversation while they eat and then Jaskier sets the dishes aside and strips out of his clothes for bed, already dreading having to share a bed. He keeps his shorts on and waits until Geralt is already in bed before climbing in after him.

The fire is burning low already, so he's not worried about it, but he blows out the candle beside the bed and pulls the blankets up over himself. He faces out into the room, preferring not to see Geralt right now. It feels weird to want to avoid him and it makes his chest ache because this is Geralt, but it's not. He just wants his Geralt back.

He shuts his eyes and tries to sleep but Geralt is cuddly like this, shifting closer and pressing up against him. He gets an arm around Jaskier's waist and Jaskier squeezes his eyes shut. It's everything he thinks about during the long nights sleeping around a campfire, but he can't let himself give into it. But it feels good because it's Geralt's arm around him, Geralt's chest pressed to his back, Geralt's breath against his neck. He very nearly whines because it's so damn unfair.

But then Geralt's lips press against the back of his neck and a little gasp escapes his lips, unintentionally. He ignores it the first time, but then he does it again and when he shifts closer, Jaskier can feel the length of his cock pressing against his ass. And fuck, that's hard to turn down, but Jaskier wrenches himself out of Geralt's arms.

"I can't," he whispers, unconvincing even to himself.

"You want it, though," Geralt hums, "I can smell it on you."

"Maybe," Jaskier confesses, "but not like this. Not when you don't know who I am. Not when fucking any other person in this place would be the same for you. I can't, Geralt. Go to sleep."

Jaskier hates how disappointed Geralt sounds when he pulls away, but he doesn't try again and Jaskier almost finds himself wishing he would. He tugs the blanket a little tighter around himself and pulls his knees to his chest, trying to force back the fear that he might not get his Geralt back.

In the morning, Geralt wakes first and Jaskier is relieved to find himself alone in bed, although he worries about where Geralt has gotten to. But when he drags himself out of bed, he finds Geralt packed and ready to go with a hearty breakfast waiting for him.

"What's all this?" Jaskier asks, "trying to get away from me all of a sudden?" It comes out more bitter than he intends and he winces at the tone of his own voice.

"You were so sad, last night," Geralt says quietly. "I don't know how to fix this, how to remember you, but I thought you'd want to get started early. I had breakfast brought up." He offers a soft smile, gesturing to the food and Jaskier's heart flip-flops.

"Oh. Thank you."

"I've eaten. Take your time and we can leave when you're finished."

"Right."

Geralt just sits on the bed while Jaskier eats his breakfast and contemplates the fact that this is still his Geralt, as much as it doesn't seem like it. His own things are still ready to go and he has no idea who to go to to collect the reward for the drowners, but it couldn't have been much anyway, so he's not worried about it. Geralt won't be pleased about it when he remembers himself, but there's only so much Jaskier knows how to handle and he wants to get Geralt to Shani as quickly as possible.

They head out mid-morning, and Geralt insists on letting Jaskier ride, which is… nice, in a concerning way. Roach is equally confused and concerned, but Jaskier does his best to comfort her. Thankfully, they aren't far from Oxenfurt or Jaskier isn't sure how he would cope.

Geralt walks alongside him, happy enough apparently to let Jaskier ride. He hums as they travel, a low wonderful sound that had Jaskier's heart fluttering, but it tears him in two because the song is his which means Geralt does remember something, but he's also so sad to see him this calm and relaxed knowing his goal is to take that away from him.

For now, he won't say anything, will just let Geralt enjoy the journey. When and if they find a way to get his memory back, he'll explain everything and give Geralt the chance to decline if he wishes. The selfish part of him hopes he doesn't.

They carry on in much the same way, but even when Geralt talks, Jaskier struggles to find it in himself to be too enthusiastic about anything. He's already in a difficult spot and he just wants to get through this, whatever the outcome. But it's obvious Geralt notices and that he's trying to distract him from it.

Jaskier tries to cheer up a little, if only for him, but he finds it difficult because he knows Geralt can tell how he's really feeling. But Jaskier appreciates the effort, either way.

"Remind me where we're going?" Geralt asks and Jaskier realizes he hasn't told him, Geralt just trusted him not to be leading him towards certain death.

"To Oxenfurt," he says, trying to sound cheerful, "it's one of my favourite places on the continent. I have a friend who practices medicine, she should be able to help."

"You don't have to pretend for me. I know you're sad, I know you miss him. Me. I wish I could give you your friend back."

Jaskier's heart clenches and he takes a steadying breath. "I'm fine," he says, "and I can't miss him, he's you and you're right here." He feels odd, like he's talking to a child, but Geralt just smiles at him, softly but like he doesn't believe him. Jaskier wouldn't either, he's never been good at lying to Geralt.

There's a heavy silence that falls after that and for some time they continue forward unspeaking. Jaskier twitches to feel the silence, to sing or talk to something just to keep from thinking that Geralt is upset with him. Then, abruptly, Geralt speaks.

"What kind of man am I?" Jaskier doesn't even have to think to answer that.

"You're kind," he says, "more than anyone gives you credit for. You always try to take the less violent route, even though your job is to kill monsters. You're generous and loving and you care so deeply for your friends and family."

He pauses for a moment, swallowing a lump in his throat. Because he's not included in that group. He knows Geralt must care for him, but not in the way he loves Eskel or Lambert, or even in the way his friendship with Shani or Zoltan comes so easily to him. Next to him, Geralt is silent for a moment and then.

"Jaskier are you-" Jaskier shuts his eyes, dreading whatever is coming next. "Do you love me?"

"Of course I do," he says, forcing cheeriness into his voice, "You're my best friend."

"But it's more than that, isn't it?"

"Geralt-"

"I know I don't really know you, but I… think I love you, too."

"Geralt, don't say that," Jaskier shuts his eyes tightly, "you can't know that."

"I feel it."

Jaskier wants to scream. It's so unfair to hear those words from Geralt's mouth and know they’re not true. He pushes Roach a little quicker forward, but Geralt stops him.

Roach comes to a full stop and Jaskier grows frowns at Geralt as he comes to stand next to him. Geralt raised a hand up, cupping his jaw and guiding him downward.

"I feel like you won't hear it from me again, so I love you." He's soft, almost breathless, and when he stretches up to kiss him, Jaskier doesn't stop him.

It's just soft, no urgency, no want for something more than just a kiss and Jaskier can't help but lean into it just a little. Because those are Geralt's hands on him, Geralt's mouth against his own, soft and slow.

But Geralt moans softly against him and Jaskier remembers himself with a start. He pulls back from the Witcher, almost unseating himself, but Geralt steadies him.

"I'm sorry," he breathes, "I can't, it's not fair-"

"To me?" Geralt asks and there's sadness behind the humour in his voice.

"Yes."

After that, they spend the rest of the day in silence and Jaskier feels bad for Geralt - he can't imagine losing his memory and not knowing who he is - but he can't stand the fruitless hope. Because Geralt doesn't love him, he's made it known that they're not friends and how could Jaskier hope for more when he can't even attain friendship?

Then again, the man walking next to him now still is Geralt. He doesn't feel like Geralt and he doesn't act like Geralt, but he is. Jaskier isn't sure how people usually react when they lose their memories, so he doesn't have a basis to judge by, but it is still Geralt.

When they stop for the night, Geralt sleeps close enough to keep him warm but doesn't cuddle up like he did the night before and Jaskier hates himself for it. Maybe Geralt has a chance here at a new life, one where he can be happy and not weighed down by the memory of his childhood. And if he does, if he wants it, who is Jaskier to deny him that?

He's not sure he could be a part of it, though. Even thinking about him now, wishing Geralt would come a little closer, curl an arm around his middle, he feels like he's betraying his friend, betraying the old Geralt as the case may be.

Either way, he'll get Geralt to Oxenfurt so they can speak to Shani and see if there's anything that can be done. If there's not, he doesn't have to worry about making the decision to leave or stay, but if there is- If there is a chance Geralt can regain his memories, Jaskier has to let him make that choice alone and then make his own depending on what Geralt wants.

They reach Oxenfurt a few days later after what feels like a month-long journey and Jaskier is just glad to be somewhere warm where he can have his own room and not have to worry about wanting to be close. He leads them immediately to the inn and rents two separate rooms. It's fairly costly and he's reminded of the reason they needed to take the last contract, but he could be in Oxenfurt for a while depending on how this goes and he'll be able to pick up work easily enough.

Jaskier heads up to his room and makes sure Geralt gets settled, then he heads down and orders food and a bath up to Geralt's room before heading out to find Shani.

The first place he looks is the hospital, but the nurse working informs him that Shani has her own clinic now and she's located near the centre of town. Jaskier thanks her and doubles back, following the directions she'd given. Shani's clinic is tucked between two other buildings and Jaskier knocks before entering. There's no one inside but it's only a moment before Shani emerges from a back room, the neutral look on her face quickly growing into a smile. When Jaskier doesn't return the gesture she frowns.

"I take it this isn't a personal visit," she says and Jaskier can feel something inside him slip. He shakes his head.

"No, I'm sorry. I- we need your help."

"Geralt?" she asks and the last bit of his self-control gives way and he chokes on a sob. "Hey," she says, "come sit down."

Shani guides him to a back room and sits him down on a plush soft, surprisingly nice for a medical clinic. She shuts and locks the door behind them and sits next to him.

"What's wrong?"

"It's Geralt," he chokes, "hes'-" he takes a deep breath, swallowing back another sob. "Shani, he doesn't know who he is. He doesn't know who I am."

"Oh. What happened?"

"I wasn't there. I just- they came to get me because no one else would get near him. It was just supposed to be a drowner contract but he got hit in the head or something. I don't know what to do."

"Where is he now?"

"Back at the inn."

"Here?" she asks. Jaskier nods. "Why don't you take me to him, I'll take a look."

"I- I don't know if he'll want to be fixed? He came with me but Shani, he seems happy."

"Why don't we go and see him first. We'll figure out what's wrong before worrying too much, hm?" Jaskier agrees and Shani packs a bag and they head for the inn.

They find Geralt in his room, having eaten and bathed and he looks good. He's got his hair down around his shoulders and he's shirtless and Jaskier has to avert his eyes. He takes a seat in the corner and lets Shani introduce herself and asks to look him over. Jaskier stays quiet and watches cautiously as Geralt easily lets Shani look him over. Once she's finished with his body, she examines his head.

"Well," she says at last, "you obviously took a pretty hefty blow to your head, but the good news is it should be simple to reverse the memory loss."

"Good," Geralt says quickly. He spares a glance for Jaskier before turning back to Shani. "What do we have to do?"

"It's simple really, just a shock to your system should do it. I have a friend who can help."

As Shani goes into the details, Jaskier tunes out. He hears something about neurons, but he's more concerned about getting Geralt alone for a couple of minutes before he makes a decision. He loves Geralt, wants nothing more than for him to be happy, so he wants him to go into this knowing everything Jaskier can tell him.

"Can we have a moment Shani?" he asks and Geralt looks at him as Shani nods and ducks out of the room.

"You want to do it?" Jaskier asks and Geralt nods.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"You're happier like this," Jaskier whispers, "Geralt, I've never seen you this relaxed. In twenty years, you've always been miserable. I just- I want you to make an informed decision."

"You say you want me to be happy," Geralt says, "but since I told you I didn't know who you were you've been so sad. How is it fair for me to be happy like you say when you're still suffering." He tips Jaskier's chin up with two fingers and looks into his eyes. "What I said before, I wasn't lying. I don't know where all these feelings are coming from but I know you are so important to me."

He pulls up a smile and Jaskier knows how this is going to end. And he'll be happy to have his Geralt back, but know him like this? To know this Geralt wants him, even in some weird, imaginary way? He doesn't know how he'll be able to continue.

"Okay," Jaskier relents. "I just… wanted you to know what you were getting into."

"I'm sure it can't be all bad. I have you."

Jaskier's heart clenches, but he doesn't get another chance to speak because Shani enters the room. Thankfully, Geralt has stopped touching him, but he's still close and she gives Jaskier a look.

"I put out a call to my friend," she says, holding up a box that looks vaguely familiar. "Xenovox," she explains, "Marilla is a mage. She should be here in the morning."

It's late afternoon now, so that means spending another night at the inn and Jaskier is torn. On the one hand, he wants Geralt to be back to normal, but on the other- he's selfish and he wants Geralt like this. He wants so badly to have anything and- no. No, he can't.

Shani leaves them shortly after assuring Jaskier that it will be alright, that Geralt will be fine. He wishes these were better circumstances, that they had come to visit Shani instead of asking for her help, but she waves him off with a smile.

"Come and visit when things are back to normal," she says, "I'll see you in the morning."

Jaskier sees her off and then returns to the room to find Geralt sitting on the edge of the bed, contemplating. He's still shirtless and Jaskier finds it hard to look at him directly. He sits in the bed next to him, hands folded in his lap.

"Well," Geralt says, "we have the night. Things will be different after I get my memory back, right?" He turns, reaching out to cup Jaskier's cheek. "Be with me tonight," he breathes, "just for tonight, let me take care of you while I have the chance."

Jaskier huffs a humourless laugh. "That's the problem, you always have the chance, but you never want to take it."

"Then let me now," he hums and his hand falls to Jaskier's thigh.

And it's so tempting. Because Geralt is right here offering everything he's ever wanted, if only for a night. But this is not the Geralt he fell in love with. This is not truly his Geralt's consent. When Jaskier looks up, it's obvious that Geralt knows his answer before he even speaks.

"I'm an idiot," he says softly, "to not jump at the chance to be with you. If I don't remember tomorrow, I want you to know you're important to me." Jaskier nods weakly, but he can't find the words. "Maybe we should turn in early? We have a long day tomorrow, I think."

Jaskier nods and he lets Geralt pull him down to the bed and tonight, he lets himself be held, curls into Geralt's hold and presses his nose into his neck. He doesn't let himself think, just buries himself in Geralt's scent, so warm and familiar and shuts off his mind.

Jaskier awakes to a knock on the door and realizes he's still in his clothes from yesterday. Geralt answers the door to Shani and Marilla, and Jaskier is only just climbing out of bed when they come into the room. He gets a look from Shani, but if she's feeling any particular kind of way about finding him in Geralt's bed, she doesn't say anything.

The actual process doesn't take any time at all. Marilla comes in and does something to Geralt, what she does is unclear but he falls unconscious and Jaskier panics at first, but Shani holds him back.

"Sorry," she says, "I should have warned you."

Jaskier does his best to make Geralt comfortable in the bed and he leaves with the two women to let him sleep. He thanks Marilla desperately and asks her to stay until he wakes, but she tells him she has other business to attend to and after dipping down to kiss Shani briefly, she disappears down the stairs.

"Friend, huh?" Jaskier asks and Shani smiles at him.

"Don't try to change the subject."

"Actually, can I ask you about something?"

"Of course. Why don't we get a drink, he could be out for a couple of hours."

They head down to the common area and Shani orders them a pair of drinks while Jaskier finds a table out of the way. He's never understood why Geralt likes corner tables, but right now he gets it. He doesn't want anyone to talk to him and he just wants to be able to sit and drink with Shani.

When she returns, she slides his drink across to him and slips into her seat.

"What did you want to ask about?"

"Uh," Jaskier starts, turning his mug in his hands, "when I first took Geralt back to our room, just after he was hurt. He tried to kiss me. He… thought I was bringing him back there to fuck him."

"Oh."

"You don't sound surprised."

"I'm not, really. I'm surprised he acted on it, but-"

"What does that mean?"

"Geralt doesn't have any brain damage," Shani explains, "something just… got knocked loose, so to speak. He was still him, Jaskier. His thoughts, his feelings? That was all him, Jask."

"You're telling me-" abruptly, the memory of Geralt telling him he loved him comes back to him and his mouth goes dry. "You're telling me that was just him?"

"Mmhm. Without all the baggage and self-loathing."

"I don't- he can't- if he wanted me that way, I would know."

"Would you?" Shani asks, "because I think you would be the last person to know. Wait till he wakes up, talk to him."

"Yeah, I know. Thanks, Shani, for this and for everything."

"Happy to help."

They finish their drinks and Shani heads home. Jaskier thanks her again and promises to visit when things are better and waits until she's gone before heading back up to Geralt's room.

The first thing Geralt knows when he wakes up, is a pain in his head. He blinks awake to find himself in a bed in a nondescript inn. A better look around finds Jaskier asleep in a chair next to him, but he stirs as Geralt sits up and then he's scrambling to pass Geralt a mug of water.

He feels woozy, but Jaskier's presence soothes him; he knows from experience that Jaskier would never let anything happen to him and is willing to risk his own health and safety to assure it. There's no one else he'd rather see upon waking. But he doesn't remember falling asleep. The last thing he remembers is taking a hit and stumbling away from the scene.

"Geralt?" Jaskier asks gently. He looks up and the first thing he notices when he looks at Jaskier is how sad he is. The emotion wafts off of him, but Geralt doesn't need his heightened sense of smell to be able to tell.

"What's wrong?" he mumbles, his voice thick.

"Tell me what you remember. From the start."

Geralt thinks back, going through the events of the hunt, none of which are very interesting until he was thrown into a tree. Water hag, he remembers, chucked mud and blinded him. Then he's stumbling away, all three monsters dead and then- fuck.

His gaze snaps up to Jaskier's face, looking for any sign of recognition, but he remains eerily calm, even as Geralt recollects kissing him, pressing him up against a wall and- fuck, what was he thinking? The more he thinks about it, the more comes back to him, but in bits and pieces.

Kissing him, touching him, pressing up against him in bed. The memories are all foggy, scattered, but they feel too real to have been a dream. But Jaskier shows no signs of being assaulted by him.

"I'm-" he starts, but sorry doesn't feel like it's enough. Jaskier is open with his affections, but he wouldn't be okay with that.

Geralt tries to push himself up, to get out of bed and away from Jaskier because he can't stand the thought of doing something like that. He can't remember why he did, but the more he thinks about it, the more real it feels.

"Geralt," Jaskier says firmly, "I'm not mad. But I think we need to talk if you're up for it."

He doesn't want to talk to Jaskier. He would rather find out from someone else, he can't bear to hear the words from Jaskier. And he knows Shani was there. Shani and another woman who he didn't recognize.

"Where's Shani?" he asks.

"She's gone home, darling. Are you hungry? Can I get you anything?"

Geralt looks up at him and he feels hopeless. Jaskier is exhausted, he can see the bags under his eyes, the dark circles. And he doesn't seem any less sad than he did initially. It doesn't take much to realize what happened.

"I'm sorry," Geralt mumbles, "about what I did- when I kissed you, I-"

Jaskier stops, already halfway toward the door and sighs deeply, stopping in his tracks before turning around.

"Okay," he says, "we're talking about this now, then." He comes back and seats himself on the end of the bed, facing him. "Tell me exactly what you remember, Geralt."

"I remember taking the contract, fighting off the drowners - and a water hag - got mud in my eyes, stumbled and something hit me, threw me into a tree. Probably one of the drowners pushed me. I took them out, started back toward town but I must have passed out, the next thing I remember is-"

"Me."

"Yeah. You took me back to our room, I thought you were- I thought you wanted sex."

"I know, you were fairly adamant about that."

"Fuck. Jaskier I'm sorry-"

"You didn't know who I was. If a handsome stranger took me back to his room, I'd think the same. When you didn't know who I was I was… terrified. I didn't know if I'd get you back." They're both silent for a moment and then Jaskier prompts him to continue.

"I remember that. I remember talking to you," he lowers his eyes, "I told you I loved you, I don't know why." Immediately Jaskier's sadness intensifies and he catches it in the twitch of his lip, the way he glances away.

"You asked if I was in love with you," Jaskier explains, "and told me you loved me. What else do you remember?"

"I remember asking you to- suggesting we- I propositioned you. And I remember being in bed- Jaskier, did we-?" He can't imagine anything worse than sleeping with Jaskier while he's not himself, than having the chance to be with him and not truly being present in the moment.

Because he certainly won't have another chance, especially not now that he's gone and muddled things up.

"No," Jaskier confirms and for the first time a small smile tugs at his lips, "not that you didn't try. But It didn't feel right. I knew when you had your memories back, you'd hate me for it and I couldn't-"

"I could never hate you," Geralt interrupts, "if anything I'd hate myself for pushing you into it."

"No," Jaskier says, shaking his head, "Geralt you don't understand. I wanted to. I wanted so badly to just say yes last night when you asked me. I tried to work it around in some way that you wouldn't hate me for taking advantage, but every time I just feel terrible to even think about it. The reason I didn't sleep with you is because I couldn't bear the thought of fucking you when it wasn't really you. Because I didn't want him, even if he was you. I wanted- I want this you."

"You do," Geralt snorts, "someone who throws himself at his friend because he doesn't remember, someone who tells him he loves him unprompted-"

"Do you think," Jaskier suggests, and it's clear by the look on his face that he's considering his words very carefully. "That maybe what you said to me and what you did- what you offered," he corrects quickly, "was because you do have feelings for me?" His voice shakes just faintly and Geralt can smell the anxiousness coming off of him.

It's cloying, overwhelming and it mingles with the scent of sadness and fear and just the faintest hint of something hopeful.

"It's just that Shani said there was nothing wrong with your mind, it was still you in there when you asked, when you said that." Jaskier looks up at him and Geralt feels years of emotion welling up inside him and he doesn't know how to hold it back any longer, not what Jaskier is asking him outright.

"Jaskier, I-" he takes a deep breath, focuses on a mark on the blanket between them. "I don't remember everything. But I did mean what I said. I do… I love you," he whispers, "I didn't want you to think less of me or," he glances up and Jaskier's eyes are shiny like he's trying not to cry. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean for you to find out like this."

"I'm not sad," Jaskier says, "Geralt, I have been following you around for half my life, caring for you, singing about you and you didn't think for maybe a moment that I could love you back?"

"You-" Geralt stumbles over his words as Jaskier's confession sinks in. "You sleep with everyone. Everyone but-"

"You don't even call me friend, Geralt. Why would I try and take you to bed with me thinking you don't care enough to call me your friend?"

"Oh."

"Oh? You didn't consider that?"

"You're not my friend," Geralt says, by way of explanation, "but you're not a lover, either. You're not a brother. Not a comrade. I don't know what you are."

"Oh."

"But you could be… a lover?" the word feels strangely heavy in his mouth and he nearly regrets saying it at all until he sees the way Jaskier's eyes light up. A smile tugs at Geralt's lips and he leans forward, reaching out to take Jaskier's hand, tentatively turning it over.

"Jaskier," he whispers, "can I kiss you?" A wide grin spreads across his face and Jaskier tips forward toward him.

"Darling, I thought you'd never ask."

[godofsexdrugsandrocknroll]

Jaune’s Father: “If nothing else, be kind. Kindness costs you nothing, sport”

Weiss: *From underneath many blankets, peeking from behind a comforter* I’m truly sorry, Arc. I had meant to assist you in your dust theory paper, but I’m not feeling terribly well.

Jaune: *Scratches head* Hey, no worries Sn- Weiss. Do you need anything? A hot compress?

Weiss: *Is glad she has a comforter for a shield as she blushes in embarrassment* How! *Coughs, in a normal tone of voice* Excuse me. How did you...

Jaune: I have seven sisters, Weiss.

Weiss: *Nods meekly, still embarrassed* A hot compress would be lovely. I feel awful.

----------------- 

Yang: *Blinks* Is that vomit boy?

Blake: *Reading* You could try calling him by his name.

Yang: You could try acknowledging his existence. *Blake glares, feeling a little guilty*

Cardin: *Walking by* He needed a warm compress.

Yang: What for?

Cardin: *Feeling kinda humbled, a bit envious* Nothin’ serious.

----------------- 

Jaune: *Taking box* Thanks Coco, you’re a lot less scary than Poppy said you were.

Coco: *Lowers her shades* Oh, did snookums slander my good name?

Jaune: *Feels his neck get hot* U-uh, no! Just that you were kinda protective of, um, *lifts box, almost drops it and gives Coco a heart attack* this. Sorry. But really, thanks, it’s really nice of you.

Coco: *Clutching her heart, waves him off* Just tell that leggy blonde she owes me some serious cuddling.

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

Professor Peach: It’s not often I get students actually interested in my hobby.

Jaune: Well, we are all teenagers.

Professor Peach: *Laughs* True enough. Hmm. *Side eyes Jaune* Well, the same can’t be said for you, young man. *Sees Jaune about to protest* I think what you meant to say is you’re all aspiring Huntsmen and Huntresses. Sometimes the future is so bright and shiny to your classmates that they forgot the everyday. It’s quite nice to see that isn’t the case with each of you.

Jaune: *Opens and closes his mouth, shuffles awkwardly*

Professor Peach: *Smiles softly* You have nothing to be embarrassed of, Jaune Arc. Here *carefully hands his request over* exactly as you requested. Have a wonderful day, child.

Jaune: *Nods quickly and walks off*

Professor Peach: And days like today, Rosalie, are why you do this job. *Happily hums as she gets back to work*

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

Jaune: Okay, look, I’m just asking which--

Beryl: *Sighs dramatically* And I’m telling you, kitten *Ignores Jaune’s protests* that they’re all mondo good.

Julie: Like, Bea-Bea’s right. That one *pointing with a fuchsia nail* is just the sweetest thing in the world, will just have you feeling warm and happy inside after.

Cissy: Plus it has just...mmm. Ouch! *Is swatted by Beryl, playfully* You bitch. Anyways, that one right there is just cute and total *squeals* overload. Can’t go wrong with it, it’s a classic.

Beryl: Then that one is probably the safest bet, because who doesn’t love a puppy?

Jaune: A puppy? *Beryl nods* Well, uh, thanks. And I promise I’ll get them back to you by tomorrow. I’ll also see if Ren’s interested, but, uh, maybe keep your semblances ready?

Cissy: *Raises hand* Uh, I haven’t activated mine yet. I’ve just got Nemesis.

Beryl: *Slings arm around Cissy’s shoulders* Don’t worry, kitten, between My House and Julie’s Spit-Spot, plus our weapons we can handle Valkyrie if she gets in a mood.

Jaune: *Deadpan* She was benchpressing one of the academy’s washing machines the other day. No aura.

Julie: We’re good at running away.

Beryl: *Scandalized* Julie!

Julie: Cute boy or not, no way am I getting my face rocked by that monster.

Jaune: *Shrugs, collecting stuff to leave* Um, I don’t know if it’ll work but maybe fill your bags with syrup. Might work as a distraction if Mt. Nora erupts.

Beryl: *Flatly* Really?

Cissy: *Flips platinum blonde hair* I saw her drinking it right out of the bottle once before Lie stopped her.

Beryl: *Sees Jaune’s gone, giggles* Somehow I think kitten got the better end of the deal. *Speculative* Shame he’s super taken.

Julie: Uh, what? Isn’t-

Beryl: Oh you sweet summer child, never change *Ruffles Julie’s hair*

Julie: Ack! Stop!

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

Jaune: Thanks headmaster! This is all really great!

Ozpin: *Working at desk* No need to thank me, mister Arc.

Jaune: Uh, yeah I do. You didn’t have to allow me to do this, but you did and it’s really neat of you.

Ozpin: *Smiles* Well then, you’re welcome. Enjoy.

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

Ruby: You definitely came to the right girl!

Jaune: *Looking at his haul* I’ll say. You’re sure you’re okay with helping? I kinda saw the looks you were giving Crescent Rose back at the forge. *Teasingly* You sure you don’t want some alone time with your baby?

Ruby: *Blushes the color of her cloak* S-shut up! She’ll be fine without me, I was just thinking of trying out some custom dust ammo is all! *Very seriously* I don’t have a problem! You have a problem!

Jaune: Riii-iiight. *Ruby puffs cheeks out, teasingly* Like you don’t have a cookie problem?

Ruby: *Points dramatically, very loud* THAT... *Slumps and sighs* please don’t tell Yang I have a nightly plate of chocolate chip.

Jaune: *Laughs* No problem, Ruby. You know me. How can I turn my back on the girl who actually talked her team into not killing me when I told them I cheated my way into Beacon?

Ruby: Yeah, yeah. So get those babies ready, vomit boy and watch Ruby - I am totally a pro at this and all things wonderful - Rose do her magic!

Jaune: Will do, crater face!

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

Jaune: *Grins* Thanks Cardin. You know, when you’re not being all racist and pushing people around you’re actually a really nice guy.

Sky: Ooooh. What a compliment. The kindness just gently caresses your face like a butterfly’s wings, huh Cardin?

Cardin: *Scowling* Shut it, Sky. I’m still trying so that’s totally fair.

Jaune: I, uh, didn’t mean it--

Cardin: *Rubbing neck* I know dude, no worries. Got a date with my girl coming up and it’s our anniversary, so it’s just a little extra. And don’t worry about paying me back, this is like the very least I can do for you after everything. *Jaune’s about to protest* Nope. I know we’re cool, but I was a huge douchebag. I mean it.

Jaune: Well thanks. It means a lot. *Leaves*

Russel: *Reading motorcycle magazine* You don’t have a girl, bro.

Cardin: *Frowns* I know.

Dove: You know you don’t have to help him out like that. You’re only hurting yourself.

Cardin: *Wipes face with hands, flops on his bed and stares at the ceiling* Yeah, well, too bad for Cardin fucking Winchester. If Jaune’s happy, I’m happy. I wasn’t joking when I said he deserves better than me. *Rolls on side to stare at wall.*

RDL: *All staring at their leader, all of them sad*

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

Jaune: *Cheerfully* I’m back!

Weiss: *Very grumpily glaring at Jaune from beneath her covers, only her eyes visible, her voice is acidic* It’s quite fine, Arc. It’s only been two and a half hours. I know you have better things to do, so don’t bother acting like you were looking forward to coming back to deal with me.

Jaune: *Winces* Yeah, sorry. I was getting the hot towel when I kinda realized that you’ve probably been dealing with this all by yourself. *Weiss growls* It’s just, I remembered how you said you and your Dad don’t really talk and your little brother’s a, a snot, I think you called him? *Weiss feels embarrassed, but says nothing while staring at Jaune* Just hold on.

*Weiss does but when he comes back in the room her eyes go wide in shock*

Jaune: I-I just have a lot of sisters. Four older, three younger and they all have different things they like when they’re on their period. Saphron’s just happy if I’ll bring her things and Coral just wants me to leave her alone. Peri always wants cuddles and movies and *blushes as he realizes how much he’s talking* I just thought instead of whatever you usually do, you might want something more? Just to try something new?

Weiss: *Stares at several hot compresses, an expensive looking box of chocolates, a small boquet of blue Glory of the Snow’s, a stack of films, several unhealthy but delicious looking snacks and a stuffed polar bear with a top hat*

Weiss: *Wide eyed, completely taken aback* W-what?

Jaune: I-I-I don’t mean to assume anything, but I’m guessing you didn’t really have anyone who tried to make your period any better?

Weiss: I have a butler, Klein, who would always check in on me but never, well I never thought to ask for more. *Very softly as she stares at the rolling entourage of goodies* It never occurred.

Jaune: Okay, well, um, how about I bring this in?

*Jaune does, Weiss watching as he sets the flowers near her bed with wide eyes and gratefully accepting the compress, bringing it under her comforter and sighing in relief*

Jaune: We’ll have to set it up on your scroll, but I did bring movies to just so you have something fun to do today. There’s a family film with an apparently super cute actor, another that’s a cute animated movie that’s a staple of everybody’s childhood except mine apparently, *Weiss snorts, watching the covers* and one about a puppy finding his way home--

Weiss: *Eyes glued to the case, speaks immediately* That one.

Jaune: You sure, I checked the fam--

Weiss: *Eyes not leaving the box* I’m certain. *Flushes* Please?

Jaune: Sure. Just let me set this up.

*Jaune also hands over the chocolates, which Weiss stares at curiously and much to her delight, brings over the bags of snacks and she clutches the bag of cheesy poofs to her, very much wanting to try them for the first time*

Jaune: Okay, that should do it. So you’ve got your Cheez-E-Poofs, I grabbed a few sodas, juices that I thought you might like *quickly* but I also got water! Um, here. *Hands Weiss the stuffed animal, which she stares at and brings close to her face, loving how cute it is and how soft it is* Oh, Ruby helped me dip some strawberry’s in chocolate if you wanna try them later. There’s normal ones too.

Weiss: *Touched and doesn’t know what to say* I-it’s all so...umm, thank you. You really didn’t have to.

Jaune: *Scratches the back of his head, looks away* No problem, Weiss. I’m used to stuff like this, so...I’ll go. *Looking very embarassed* You’ve probably had enough of me talking you to death, so I’m just gonna go across the hall--

Weiss: *From behind her bear* Stay. *Jaune stares at her, blinking in surprise* You were going to offer, but you...back home the most I ever got were the occasional visits from Klein. But having someone to be there sounds very nice and I’d like if you would. Very much. I certainly won’t eat all of this anyways, so...please?

Jaune: *Nodding rapidly* Sure. Right. Yeah, I just didn’t wanna assume or impose or *watches Weiss’ eyes light up at the cheesy snack she just tried* I’ll sit.

*Jaune sits next to Weiss’ bed and they watch the film, eat snacks and after the movie, Weiss tries the strawberries as the second film starts. When she wakes up after falling asleep, she discovers the mess she’d made of the comforter is cleaned, Jaune had gathered up her snacks and placed them in a box. Her flowers now have a vase and the bear she had placed on his shoulder is on her pillow*

Weiss: *Smiles and hugs bear tightly*

~~A week later~~

Weiss: *Exasperated* Where is he?

Yang: *Balancing a pencil on her nose on her bed, ignoring her homework* Who?

Weiss: *Notices Berry B. Cold on Yang’s stomach and shoots forward like a bullet, snatching him and hugging him to her abdomen* You know who you bum, Jaune!

Yang: *Grinning like the cat who ate the canary* Oh-ho, finally acknowledging him by his first name after all this time, Weiss Cream?

Weiss: *Blushing* Quiet you.

Ruby: Leave her alone, Yang. But, uh, I don’t really know where he is.

Weiss: Nonsense. I may have missed the chance to help him with his paper but at the very least I can at least explain some of the theory to him, give him better than what Beacon’s textbooks offer.

Yang: Oh yeah, sure, sounds fun.

Weiss: *Bristling* E-even if it’s a boring subject, it is useful. *Hugs bear tighter* And he needs all the help he can get and--

Blake: *Walking in* If you’re talking about Jaune, he’s way too busy Weiss.

Weiss: I beg your pardon?

Yang: Yeah, you didn’t know?

Weiss: *Irritated* No Yang, it’s why I asked you in the first place.

Yang: *Flatly* Oh. I thought you were joking. No, I mean it, don’t look at me like that! Seriously, vomit boy’s been busy the last couple days.

Weiss: *Confused* But why?

Yang: *Staring* Seriously? I mean, he got that whole thing together for you.

Weiss: M-me!? Is that...but he said he was used to it! I-I knew he was talking about his sisters, but he said Ruby helped! H-he...

Ruby: Yup, I did, but I didn’t know Jaune was making them so you could have a nice, comfy that-time-of-the-month. I thought he just wanted a strawberry snack! That he’d finally been enlightened. *Sighs*

Yang: And that whole spread wasn’t just free, he went around and traded a lot of favors to get it together.

Weiss: *Gaping* H-he...what? He traded favors, just... *Uncertain, squeezing her bear while looking distressed* You didn’t know? He hasn’t done that with any of you?

Ruby: Nope!

Blake: Gods no.

Yang: Dad’s sweet like that for me when it’s bad-bad, but if Jaune offered I’d definitely turn him down. *Gives Weiss a look*

Ruby: Yeah, and all I need is my Non-Descript Winter Holiday lights and my guns ‘n ammo mags plus my scroll and I’m happy. *Shrugs* I get really crabby so I prefer being alone.

RWY: *Staring at Blake*

Blake: My ex did it for me once. Never again.

Weiss: S-so he did all that, just for me? Because I was miserable?

Yang: *Sighs, flops back on her bed* I don’t know why you’re so surprised. Ask his team. Jaune’s actually a pretty nice guy. He aimed Neptune in your direction back at the dance even though anybody with eyes knew he was kinda bummed the whole night. After you started talking with him after and started sharing, I think he just wanted you to have, y’know, some normal stuff that we all enjoy because our Dad’s aren’t asshats.

Ruby: Yang!

Blake: *Sees Weiss looking at her, looking upset* He’s been Coco’s personal shopper for the last week, he’s been dodging Nora since Ren agreed to a date with each of those girls from Team SNLT because she is pissed, he’s been doing odd jobs for Ozpin all week, he’s been doing a lot of work outside for Peach and I think he’s also been in the laundry rooms a lot. That stuff wasn’t just free. Plus he’s had to do all his usual leader stuff and his homework.

Weiss: *Gapes, hugs her bear and her eyes drift to her box of treats and she purses her lips* B-but...that’s so much, just so I...

Yang: Um, he likes you Weiss. Even if he stepped aside for Neptune, he’s not gonna just poof whatever he feels for you away just because he doesn’t have a chance. Then he sees you feeling like shit, knows just how bad it is because of all his sisters and gets it in his head that you deserve the princess treatment. *Stretches* He offered for Pyrrha once but she just went really red, yelled ‘NO!’ and apparently pushed him through a wall.

Weiss: *Sits on bed with her knees pulled up, hugging her bear while hiding a wobbling lip as she realizes and RBY just sighs*

~~Four days later~~

Yang: *Grins* Called it.

Blake: Yes, because it was such a mystery that this was gonna happen after Weiss had it spelled out for her that Jaune still has it bad for her even if he was trying to get over her. I’ll admit I still don’t understand the way Weiss thinks or why Jaune would put himself through all of that just because Weiss was having a bad period when it was clear at the time she wasn’t even thinking of him that way, but c’mon Yang.

Yang: *Hand out*

Blake: *Rolls her eyes, puts Lien in her hand* Child.

*Meanwhile Weiss stands on her tiptoes, arms around Jaune’s neck and enjoys kissing her boyfriend*

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

Two things: One, I headcanon Cardin as gay and occasionally having a thing for Jaune if it isn’t entirely obvious. Two, I don’t want my Tumblr to be nothing but crack/lewd. I’d also like some occasional romance/wholesome content. This isn’t the best, but hopefully it’s not quite as bad as I think it is towards the end.

[ryuu-to-sobakasu-hime]

Ryuu to Sobakasu no Hime (Belle) Novel | English Translation | Chapter 2

**This is a machine translation. I put it together by extracting text page-by-page from a .pdf version of the Japanese novel, and running it through Google translate. I have only minorly edited some of the more confusing lines to make it more read-able. It is still a very rough translation, but it’s good enough to understand what’s going on. If there is anyone out there who wants to properly translate the novel, I am more than happy to edit it, if you’ll contact me.**

———————————————

Chapter 2: Suzu

"Buhaa!"

I got up from a thin futon and took a big breath.

That made me almost hit my head against the low ceiling. This is a shabby attic in the countryside, with rafters supporting the roof approaching just above the bed. "Ah, ah .... ah ..."

It's morning. The sunlight is dazzling. The feeling of the glittering world up to that point remains. I close my eyelids because I want to reach for the residue. Certainly I was standing at the tip of the whale's nose and singing. Wearing gorgeous costumes, singing freely. When I open my eyelids, in front of me is a smartphone on the sheets with the display turned off. On the dark surface, you can see yourself illuminated by the sun. The faded pajamas I've been wearing since I was in junior high school. Messy hair from sleeping. Half-open eyes.

And the freckles scattered on my cheeks. It makes me very depressed. I sigh. Then, I heard my father's voice from the first floor, "Suzu? What's wrong?" I feel impatient. Of course, this isn't a soundproof room, it's just a miserable 7-year-old girl's room. The only way to prevent the sound from leaking out is to wrap it in a futon. Was my voice louder than usual? If so ... The cold sweat of regret floats on my back. "No, it’s nothing ...!"

I hurriedly reply that while crawling on all fours off the bed. What if he’s suspicious and comes upstairs? No, I don't think he’ll come. I changed into my uniform and went downstairs. I didn't see my father. He may be preparing to go to work. He opened the porch and left the window down to let in the cool morning air. He lightly cleaned the living room and dining room and cleaned up the magazines left on the table. While boiling the water, I put the flowers in the garden in a vase and placed it next to the photo frame in the kitchen. He puts a tea bag in a mug and pours hot water. Steam with the scent of black tea boils. My mother is still smiling in the picture frame today.

I'm eating rice. I was sitting on the porch, drinking tea. Dad, who wore a dark blue T-shirt on his tanned skin, came out to the garage with a backpack containing work tools on his shoulders. "Suzu, I’m leaving." I replied, keeping my mouth on the mug. "... Okay" "What about dinner?" "... I’m fine."

"... I see. Then, I'll go." Dad must have been in trouble. I could understand without looking. The engine of a four-wheel drive vehicle starts. After backing up, it turns back and goes down the slope. The sound of the tires travelling across the pebbles slowly drifts away.

I wonder how long I will not make eye contact with him. How long has it been since I stopped talking properly? I wonder how much time has passed since we stopped eating together. There was a notification sound. A balloon pops up on the screen of the smartphone. "Belle is the best beauty created by the virtual world "U." Languages ​​around the world are translated instantly.

"Very unique and rare song" "Belle's song is full of self-confidence" "The most notable presence in 3 billion accounts"

The text balloons went up one after another, competing for the lead, and in a blink of an eye filled the area around the bell icon. But I have no joy, no sense of accomplishment, no sense of exhilaration. No matter how much attention Belle gets, it doesn't matter. With my mouth in my rimmed mug, I shut myself in my shell. The balloon with one comment swells up significantly. It is one of the functions of balloons to enlarge and display the comments that attract the most attention.

Of the tremendous number of comments, the one that attracted the most attention was "Who is she?" I don't think most people in the world know about it, but Shikoku and Kochi are proud of their rich climate, where the steep mountains that cover them, and of the beautiful blue shining clear streams that flow through the valleys. More than 150 years ago, we produced a number of people who dramatically reformed the long-standing feudal society of Japan, which is also one of our prides. The daylight hours are top class in Japan. Alcohol consumption is also top class. Perhaps because of that, my city’s personality is clear, and is said to be friendly and cheerful. But even in such a situation, some people are dark and are always looking down. One of them is me. My house is in the corner of a village with about 30 houses on the slope of a mountain.

A river called the Niyodo River runs ahead of me, and is connected to the opposite bank by a subsidence bridge. A subsidence bridge is a bridge without balustrades, and is designed so that it will not be washed away even if the river rises and the bridge sinks. I cross it every day unless this bridge sinks. The flow of the Niyodo River is still quiet and blue today. Occasionally tourists come by rental car and take a number of pictures on the subsidence bridge, saying that it's beautiful. It's a nice village, isn't it? They do not know the truth of the area. With the school bag on my side, I go down the stone steps and walk on a steep slope. A neighbor's grandmother who was sweeping and cleaning used to call out to me, "Oh, Suzu-chan, good morning," and so on. But not now. The shutters of many homes are tightly closed.

The number of people who live here gradually decreased as they died or moved to the city. There are many such settlements in the Niyodo River basin. It is said that it is near here that a sociologist coined the term "marginal village" long ago. I've been told many times since I was little that adults say that the number of people has decreased surprisingly compared to the village’s peak population. It is at the forefront of a declining population, declining birthrate and aging society, faster than anywhere else in Japan. That is an unmistakable fact. There is a stop at the end of the national highway after going up the slope. The rusty timetable at the bus stop only shows times in the morning and evening.

It's not yet time. After a while, the bus came. I sit in the usual seat at the back of the bus. No one else is in the bus. Passing through the stops one after another. No one is on board. While the bus is shaking, I dimly look at the bulletin board near the driver's seat.

"This bus route will be discontinued at the end of September.”

I live in a place where no one wants to live. It stands right next to a steep cliff approaching the rough sea. I reach the end of the bus route and transfer on to a train.

High school and junior high school students in uniforms from other schools come in little by little at each station. The closer you get to the center of the city, the less visible the floor is, and the two-car train fills up with customers. An announcement in the car tells me the name of the station I should get off at. I see many students of the same uniforms on the way to school. Together we climb a gentle slope. I am one of them. That gives me a lot of peace of mind, maybe.

The summer sunshine is dazzling. Last fall, the brass band was playing in front of the symbol tree in the courtyard. Many students surround it and listen to it. The announcement of the brass band is always popular. It's not just about playing. All players take steps as they perform. It's a lively and fun dance. All the instruments have the steps perfectly matched, yet the performance does not get twisted or shaken. I and Hiro-chan (short for Hiroka) also listened to it from the veranda on the 2nd floor of the gymnasium. When the first song ended and the second song started, a slender tall, beautiful girl was holding the alto saxophone in front of her. She came out. She shook her long, loosely waved hair and played her solo without any disturbance, taking attractive steps from side to side.

"……Cute."

I instinctively say it aloud. Luca-chan - her full name is Ruka Watanabe – I am sighingly fascinated by the lively beauty of her. I can hear the voices of other girls watching on the same balcony.

"Luka-chan is the princess of our school, isn't she?"

"She’s slim and has long legs.”

"Even if she wears a uniform, she look like a model."

They nodded together, saying, "Right~?”

Hiro-chan has a voice that only I can hear next to me, "The jealousy of kids who are neither thin nor slender...,” turning the pages of her book. The girls' voices can be heard continuously.

"Luka-chan naturally acts as a coordinator for everyone."

"I'm sure everyone will come together like Ohisama," Hiro-chan frowned at the back of her silver-rimmed glasses. "They’re annoying. In that respect, Suzu is like the opposite of Luka, so it's easy for no one to come near us."

"Hi- Hiro-chan…"

"Hmm?"

"You have a poisonous tongue, I wonder if you can be a little kinder....."

"A poisonous tongue? Who?" At that time, a loud voice that interrupted the performance echoed in the courtyard. "Why don't you join the canoe club?" Everyone looks back. "It's Kamishin!" "Kamishin has arrived!"

Kamishin – full name Shinjiro Senzu - has a canoe paddle in his hand and a banner with "CANOE" written on his back, and appears randomly.

"Oh, senpai. What about the canoe club?"

"Wow! Stop, Kamishin!"

"Don't enter, that's it." He chased the boys, and then laughed and ran away. Then, he turned around and headed for the group of girls.

"Hey, why don't you do canoeing?"

"Kya ~~~!" The girls scream seriously and run away.

"Oh, hey, let's do some canoeing!"

"Dangerous, run away~"

He is serious, but the reaction around him makes the Kamishin look like a weirdo. He’s like a beast that jumps into beautiful women and rampages.

"Hey, canoe ..."

Watching the girls run away, I feel like defending the hard work of Kamishin.

"It's amazing to start a canoe club by yourself, isn't it?"

"But he's the only one in it."

"I wonder why.”

"I wonder~”

Hiro turned her eyes to Luka, who seemed to be anxious about the hustle and bustle while playing. Luka stiffened and turned her back to Kamishin as if she didn't want to see him. Hiro-chan does not overlook the gesture. She closed her book and turned her stern eyes to Luka. “You’re being looked down on.”

We left the gymnasium and wandered around the school. Chorus club, biology club, light music club, dance club. Various club activities. The activity was appealing to each. As I crossed the glass-walled corridor, I heard the cheers and applause of the girls from somewhere.

10N1 was held at the one-on-one outdoor basketball court. It is a solicitation performance of the men's basketball club. A ball is thrown into the court for the next game. You can see a boy in a hoodie who catches it with a lean hand.

"Ah ..." The game starts. Shinobu-kun, full name Shinobu Kutake, slowly dribbles and watches the situation. The opponent's senpai is raising his right hand as a checker, being wary of the jump shot. Shinobu lowers his hips. Shinobu tries to pull out with a low dribble, but the opponent's guard is tight and he withdraws. When he thinks he has stopped Shibobu, he suddenly shoots a jump shot from a short motion.

He’s fast. The senior hurriedly reached out with his fingers spread out, but he couldn't reach Shinobu. The previous move was a feint. The ball drew a beautiful arc and passed through the goal net. The girls lined up in the corridor on the 3rd floor gave an enthusiastic applause. But Shinobu doesn't even smile. His coolness is attracting attention from girls in school. Before the applause stopped, the court had already moved on to the next game. Shinobu-kun, while measuring the timing, dribbles low to push the defense away. As if to say that you can't win even with power. If you forcibly cut in and pull out the senior in a blink of an eye, you will definitely go to the layup. There is a pleasant sound of the ball slipping through the goal net. Again, the girls' applause echoed on the walls of the school building. I told Hiro-chan,

"........ Shinobu-kun, I didn't think he would be that tall."

He’s my childhood friend.

"He was your childhood friend?"

"Ohon. Actually, I've been proposed to by Shinobu-kun."

"Seriously? What?"

"[Suzu, I'll protect you], he said.”

"When was that?"

"When we were 6 years old."

"....... Even if such an ancient story is spoken…"

Astonished, Hiro sighed. Another goal was scored. In the applause, Shinobu-kun, who finished the game, went out of the court alongside his senior without even smiling. Shinobu-kun, my childhood friend. He’s no longer within my reach.

I came back from school and crossed the subsidence bridge. I was with Shinobu from kindergarten through the lower grades of elementary school. After that, Shinobu moved to the city and we were separated. He was in my high school and we became classmates again. But it isn’t like it used to be. At that time, I didn't expect to become a child who is always looking down like I am now. There is a reason why this happened. I saw the quiet stream of the Niyodo River. Yes. That is an ancient story. A white bird passed low on the surface of the water.

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

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Dcx2NedPVBEdbfQaU-WC0pJMRmn20ASn7HSC0KY9R7E/edit?usp=sharing ~ Google Doc of the English-translated novel.

ryuutosobakasuhime.wordpress.com ~ English fan-site for Ryuu to Sobakasu no Hime where translations, scans, and other content is posted.

[watchyourbluesturngolden]

our little jellybean

word count: 2.5k

warnings: labor/childbirth, nothing graphic at all, just lots of mentions of pain and contractions and being in the hospital. excessive use of the word “smiled” because I was smiling a lot when I was writing this because dad!harry is literally so cute :)

It had all started very quickly. One minute you were reaching to grab some sheets for the crib, and the next you were gasping and staring at the floor.

"Harry!" You called out for your husband, a little bit in shock. 

"Are you ok?" Harry yelled, his footsteps pounding up the stairs. 

He rushed over to your side, eyes wide as he asked again.

"What? What is it?" 

"I think..." You looked up, face just as shocked as his was. "I think my water just broke." 

Harry's face went through about 10 emotions faster than you could even register them. He grinned, which was quickly replaced by a look of panic, which turned into a smile, which then bounced right back to panicked. 

"It's- you- are you... really?" He could barely even get a full word out. 

"I think so? Yeah, yeah, definitely." You couldn't help but laugh at the shocked look on his face before he bolted back down the stairs. You looked over the banister, confused. "Where are you going?" 

You saw his grab his phone, typing furiously before he held it up to his ear.

  "Yes, hi, my wife's water just broke!" Harry practically yelled into the phone.

  He did not just call 911, you thought. 

"Ok, ok, I'll tell her, thank you," Harry rushed out, looking back up at you from the main floor. 

"The doctor said to wait until the contractions are 6 minutes apart," He said, panic still evident in his voice. 

"I know, Harry, I could have told you that," You said. "Why did you feel the need to call the doctor? And why are you down there when I'm up here?" 

"Right, right, don't abandon your wife when she's about to have your baby!" 

He took the stairs two at a time, pulling you into his arms. 

"I can't believe you're about to have my baby," He said, beaming. Then his face went back to terrified. 

"But wait, it's too early! It wasn't due for another two weeks! We don't even have a car seat, I was going to get one tomorrow!" 

"It will be fine, two weeks isn't even that early. Babies are born way earlier than this little jellybean all the time and they're just fine. And it's my first baby, so I'll probably be in labor for a while. My contractions haven't even started yet, so we have plenty of time to buy a car seat," You said, trying to calm him. 

"Right, we can just go get one right now," Harry said. "How are you so calm right now? Why am I the only one freaking out??" 

You laughed. "Do you forget that I'm a nurse? In a labor and delivery unit? Harry, this is literally my job." 

"Right, yes, I did forget," he smiled sheepishly. "But I'm allowed to forget things, because we're about to meet our little jellybean!" 

His smile was contagious, and you couldn't help grin with him as he pressed his hands to your stomach. 

"Did you feel that?" He gasped as the baby kicked. 

"I did, Harry, it came from inside me," You said, laughing. 

"What are we going to name her?" He wondered, ignoring your words. "Personally, I like jellybean, but I think she might get bullied." 

You laughed, pulling away to look at him. "You're right, we do need to pick something. We don't have to decide right now, but we should probably narrow it down a little." 

"I think Brooke is my favorite from the list," He said, forehead furrowing thoughtfully. "But I also like Amelia." 

"I'm really glad you agreed on Grey's Anatomy names, because that might have been a deal breaker," You said, donning a very serious face. 

He laughed, shaking his head. "What about you? You do get a say, being the baby's mother and all." 

"I'm kind of on the fence between Cristina and Amelia. I like both but I don't want people shortening her name, I don't like Crissy or Amy or something weird like that." 

"Hmm, you're very picky," He observed. 

You pushed his shoulder, smiling. 

"I'm allowed to be picky, it's a child I carried for nine whole months. So it's between Amelia, Brooke, and Cristina. I kind of think we won't know until we see her, you know? Like, we'll look at her, and say "she looks like a Brooke" or whatever." 

Harry smiled, pecking a quick kiss to your cheek. "Sounds like a plan. Now, we really should go get that car seat." 

You had been browsing for nearly an hour, Harry managing to find something wrong with every single option. You found it incredibly amusing that he was the one being picky about all of this. He had been the same with the crib, the dresser, the onesies, the bottles, even the pacifiers. You let him have his way, though. Every time you not-so-politely suggested he just "pick one, for the love of all that is holy" he would turn his puppy eyes on you, saying how he just "wanted everything to be perfect for our little jellybean." How could you say no to that? 

"This one?" You pointed to one of the last car seats in the row. "It looks good, and it's a good brand." 

"Hmm... no. I don't like the color palette."  

"Harry," You said, trying very hard to keep the exasperation out of your voice. "Darling. Sweetheart. My wonderful husband. Please, I am begging you, just pick one. I know you want everything to be perfect, but all of these are good-" You stopped in the middle of your sentence. 

Harry's eyes snapped up from the box he had been inspecting, looking at you with great concern. 

"What happened?" 

"Uh, just, that was a contraction, I think," You said, a rush of nerves washing over you. "Yeah, a contraction. It's... it's starting, but, like, for real," You managed to get the words out. 

"Ok, time to go to the hospital! Let's go meet our baby!!" Harry could hardly contain his excitement. 

"No, Harry, it's not. I'm sorry, but we're waiting until they're 6 minutes apart, just like the doctor said."

"But-" 

"Harry, if we go now, they're just going to send us home until I'm further along. Let's just go home and finish up everything we can, and please just pick a car seat." 

Harry hesitated for less than a second before grabbing one of the boxes he hadn't completely hated. You smirked as you exited the store.

"Maybe I should go into labor more often. I've never seen you make a decision so fast." 

He squinted suspiciously at you.

"Did you actually feel something, or did you just pretend to get me out of there faster?" 

You laughed, rolling your eyes. 

"I did, seriously. This time, at least. I make no promises about next time."

  You had three more contractions in the time it took to drive home and put the finishing touches on the nursery. Harry timed each one precisely, down to the millisecond. 

"Harry, it's really more of a minute thing, you don't have to be that exact," You said, laughing at the concentration on his face. 

"No, I do, because the second you're at six minutes apart, we are going straight to the hospital," He said, still intensely focused on the stopwatch on his phone. "18 minutes, 32 seconds, and 51 milliseconds." 

"Alright then. Why don't we watch a Christmas movie? It'll help the time pass faster," You promised. 

The pain came more and more frequently as the movie played. You tried to mask your face, but Harry could tell each time a new contraction started. He insisted you squeeze his hand every time, watching your face intently.

  By the end of the movie, you had to admit it was getting pretty bad. 

"Harry- I think -ow- I think it's time to go," You said through a particularly nasty contraction.

"Really? For real?" He said, jumping up from the couch. 

"Yes, for real. Let me get my bag-" 

"No, no, I'll get it, you just wait here and I'll be right back!" He said, bounding up the stairs. 

When he came back down, he was wearing the biggest grin you'd seen since you told him you were expecting. 

"I'm so excited to meet our little jellybean!!!" He smiled, hugging you tightly. 

"Me too, Harry, but we have to get to the hospital first," You reminded him. 

"Let's go!!!" He was practically bouncing on his feet as he led you out to the car.

He loaded your bags into the back, next to the car seat he had so carefully installed. 

By the time you were pulling up to the hospital, the pain was almost unbearable. Harry parked in a spot he definitely wasn't supposed to park in, jumping out and running to get a wheelchair. A nurse greeted you at the door, wheeling you inside while Harry sped away to find a parking space. 

"He's an eager one, isn't he?" The nurse laughed. 

"I think he's more excited than I am," you joked. "He's been like a kid all day, asking every five minutes if it's time to meet our little jellybean yet." 

"Well, that's good! Not all fathers are so loving and supportive of their wives." 

"Yeah, I got pretty lucky with him," You smiled. 

"You certainly did," She said, wheeling you into a room just as another contraction hit. 

You clenched your fists, really wishing you had Harry's hand to hold. 

Just in time, he ran into your room carrying your bags. He dropped them by the bed, helping you up from the chair.

"Did- Did you run all the way up here?" You asked, squeezing his hand. 

"Sprinted, actually," He panted. "Did I miss anything?" 

"Oh, no, I've been having a lovely time," you said sarcastically. Then you felt bad for snapping at him. "I'm sorry, that was mean. Thank you for being so supportive."

"You're allowed to be mean to me today, you get a free pass," He laughed.

  "You're going to regret saying that when my next con-" Your words were cut off with a gasp when the pain stabbed through you again. 

"It's ok, it's ok, squeeze my hand, that's it, just like that," He soothed.

  "I don't want to -ow- I don't want to hurt you!" 

"You can hold on as tight as you need, I promise you won't hurt me, love," He said, brushing your hair out of your face. 

"Another thing you're going to regret saying!" you yelled, grasping him as tight as you could. 

As soon as the pain eased, you let go of his hand. "Sorry, sorry, I'm so sorry, are you ok?"  

"Stop worrying about me, I'm not the one having a baby right now! You're not hurting me, and even if you were, I wouldn't say anything because the only thing that matters right now is you and our little bean in there." He leaned towards you, pressing his lips to your belly. "By the way, how are you doing in there, little bean?"  He paused before smiling up at you. “She says she’s doing just fine, and she’s very excited to meet us.”

Your labor continued like this for a few more hours, with you constantly apologizing and him constantly telling you it was fine. 

Your pain only got worse as the hours went on. Eventually, you stopped caring what you said to Harry, instead opting to blurt out whatever came to your mind. You figured it was ok. He had given you a free pass, after all. 

"I hate you so much, you did this to me!" You cried, still not letting go of his hand.

  "I know, I know, I'm sorry, it's my fault," He soothed, handing you a cup of ice chips. 

"I'm sorry again, I don't really hate you, I just-" you cried out again. "Nevermind, I actually really, really do hate you!" 

"I know, but you're doing so well, love, and soon we'll get to see our baby girl. Just keep thinking of her, our precious little jellybean," He said, wiping a tear from your face. 

A midwife came in, explaining that she just needs to examine you quickly. Then she looked up at you, smiling. "It looks like it's time to push. Are you ready to meet your baby?" 

You looked into Harry's eyes, breaking into a smile. 

"We finally get to see our bean."

  It was official. You had never seen anything more precious. You looked down at the tiny pink bundle in your arms, and you smiled so hard it hurt. 

Harry was sitting on the bed next to you, arm around your shoulder. 

"So... do you still hate me?"  

You rolled your eyes, smacking his arm. 

"Just a little bit. My vagina really hurts." 

He laughed, reaching over to stroke the baby's cheek.  "Yeah, that's my bad." He said, smiling. "She's just... so amazing," He beamed. "I'm already in love." 

"Me too," You giggled. 

"Look! She grabbed my finger!" He whispered excitedly. 

"Looks like she loves you just as much," You said, smiling. 

"I know,” He said admiringly. “Now that she's actually here, we should really pick a name," He said, not taking his eyes off her face.

"Yes, right, we have to-" You gasped when she opened her tiny eyes and looked up at you. "Harry! She has your eyes!" 

"Oh, she does, and she's just so adorable," He cooed, beaming. "Wait, no, I keep getting distracted by how cute she is. The name. I don't think she looks like a Cristina. Sorry, but... I think she looks like a Brooke."

"Well, of course you want to go with Brooke, that's the name you already picked."

  "Hey hey, I said I liked Brooke AND Amelia. Since I vetoed Cristina, I... will make the ultimate sacrifice and let you pick from those two." He said, very dramatically. 

"That's very kind of you," You said, smiling. "But... actually..." 

"What is it, love?" 

"Well- I don't know if you... I thought, maybe..." 

"Y/N, what is it? It's fine if you want to pick something different, but just know I'll always hold it over your head how ironic this is, how you got mad at me for being indecisive about car seats and yet here we are-" 

"What if we call her Stevie?" You rushed out, blushing when he stopped abruptly.

For the millionth time today, his smile seemed to light up the entire room. 

"You want to call her Stevie? As in- really?" 

"I mean- only if you're ok with it- if you don't like it we can go back to Brooke-" 

He cut you off, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. 

"I would love to call her Stevie,” He said, grinning as he pulled away.

"Ok, good," You said, sighing in relief. "Because that would have been really awkward if you said no." 

He laughed, hugging you closer. 

"I have to call Stevie- not the baby, but the other- you know who I mean- she's going to be so excited," He said, smiling. "But maybe not right now- I just need a few more minutes to look at her." 

You beamed, resting your head on his shoulder.

[perfectpaperbluebirds]

Better Now

A Bla/ck Tap/es podcast sickfic.

I have so many wonderful prompts in my inbox but the only thing I  wanted to write was this wildly self-indulgent and overly long fic that's jam-packed with all my favorite tropes. I blame @matilda3948 for her recent amazing Dr. Strand sickfics for inspiration and @sanquintina for getting me into the podcast in the first place

This is technically Bl/ack Ta/pes fanfic, but you don't need to know anything about the series other than Dr. Strand is a persnickety, serious, stoic, skeptic with a very deep voice and troubled past. 

Set after the end of the series as it stands currently and written in 1st person from the perspective of Strand's unnamed female partner. Could be Alex if you want, could be someone else with whom Strand finally found happiness and contentment. I kept that part generic on purpose.

Richard Strand is many things, but clumsy isn't one of them. So naturally I had to go investigate when early one morning I was startled by the sound of a tea mug shattering on the floor followed by a hastily bitten-off swear word.

In the kitchen I found my husband, the world renowned Dr. Strand, kneeling on the floor mopping up spilled tea. He glanced up with a sniffle as he heard me approach.

"Had it too close to the edge. At least it missed my pants. I think I got all the ceramic bits, but be careful."

His voice was even deeper than usual, low and gravelly from the cold he'd been developing over the past few days. That, paired with his heavy, reddened eyes and generally haggard appearance, gave me concern.

"You look like you hardly slept. How are you feeling?"

"I tossed and turned a bit last night. Couldn't get comfortable."

"Couldn't breathe I think would be more accurate. You were snoring and breathing through your mouth all night."

He sat back on his heels and frowned. "Sorry if I kept you up."

"You don't have to apologize. I'm just worried about you," I added as he winced when he stood, massaging the space between his eyebrows.

He shot me another irritated glance. "I'm fine. I just have a bit of a cold." I couldn't help but notice the weary slump of his shoulders, however. Even his suit looked less crisp than usual. 

I summoned all my wifely tact and tried to make my voice persuasive: "Maybe you should stay home. You don't look like you'll be much use to anyone today."

He made an annoyed sound. "That's very unnecessary. I'm not staying home for a cold."

I looked pointedly out the window where a chilly November rain was pouring down steadily. "You really want to go out into that when you have a perfectly valid excuse not to?"

He too glanced out the window. After a moment he shook his head and cleared his throat, meeting my eyes again. "I'll be fine. It's just a little rain."

He headed toward the door, massaging his forehead once more.

"Don't you want your tea?"

"Oh, right." He whirled around quickly, grabbed the thermos, and headed toward the door again with a wet sniffle. I could only roll my eyes and sigh as the door closed behind him.

Most workdays I left after him and returned before him, and this Thursday was no exception. The rain was still pouring down when I arrived home from work that evening. I decided dinner was going to be vegetable stew and biscuits, not only for his cold, but also because I wanted some rainy November comfort food. Everything was nearly ready when I heard him coming up the steps. He opened the door, bringing with him a chilly gust, and I turned to greet him, but instead my mouth dropped open a bit at the sight of him. 

His hair and clothes were completely soaked with rain, to the point of dripping puddles onto the floor as I watched, and he was visibly shivering, something I'd never seen him do before. Inexplicably, he was also shaking the loose drops off of his soaked umbrella, his expression drawn and miserable. I was noticing how diminished he seemed when suddenly his breath hitched violently:

"HehZIHH'shiew! HrrUUHHZchoo! HehhGIHH'nkkchoo!"

I rushed to his side, relieving him of his umbrella and briefcase and pulling his sodden coat off of him as he slumped down onto the nearby stool. Beneath the coat, his suit was nearly just as wet and cold.

"Oh, Richard, bless you! You're soaked to the skin. Ugh, and your hands are freezing. How did you manage to get so drenched?"

"A w-woman and her ch-children were w-waiting for the b-bus without c-coats. I held my umbrella f-for them until it c-came," he said, his teeth chattering and his lips blue with cold. 

I toweled off his hair and clothes as best as I could before helping him undress. Any other day he would have brushed me off, saying he was perfectly capable of doing that himself. The fact that he allowed me to assist him spoke volumes to how poorly he felt. 

I was behind him, trying to peel off his sodden linen shirt when he lurched forward for another volley of sneezes:

"HrrUUSCHH! HnnxXT! HHGGTchh!"

"Bless you again, poor love. You've made your cold worse going out in this," I gently chastised.

"I'm f-fine," he sniffled, still barely able to speak around his shivering. Yet he leaned back against me wearily as I removed his undershirt and replaced it with a blanket, and I thought I heard the softest hint of a groan.

I used my fingers to comb his disheveled hair, but frowned when I felt his forehead. "You're running a fever. You weren't feverish this morning."

He merely shrugged, wordlessly asking me to continue massaging his scalp, which I did. Slowly his shivers subsided, but he was clearly exhausted, and sniffled wetly every few moments. 

"You look like you could use a hot drink and a warm bed," I said eventually.

"I'd start with a hot shower," came the mumbled reply.

"Hmm… what about a hot bath? I was thinking of taking one myself tonight, and I'm willing to share. No reason to waste the hot water. Dinner will keep for a bit longer."

He turned slightly, giving me a curious look. It wasn't that we had never bathed together before, but it was usually under very different circumstances. However, I happened to know my husband craved physical touch when he wasn't feeling well, though he would never ask for it. I was simply making life easier on both of us by preemptively offering it. 

"I suppose that might be nice," he finally said. "But I'm very tired…."

I kissed his cheek. "No strings attached. Bath only. Then dinner and sleep. No funny business, I promise."

He relaxed slightly. "That's fine then."

"Good. Let me go run the water." I kissed his hair once more, then headed to the bathroom. He joined me there with a cup of tea after a few minutes. While the oversized tub finished filling, he leaned in the doorway, rubbing the back of his neck and looking distant and hazy, not to mention sick.

I shimmied off my clothes and slid into the water, gesturing for him to join me. He sluggishly obeyed, hampered in finishing his own undressing by his dripping nose. He set his mug of tea and a handkerchief on the little table beside the tub, then slid into the water in front of me.

His sigh of ecstasy as the hot water surrounded him was exactly what I hoped to hear, and he leaned back against me readily with a satisfied groan.

"Better?" I murmured in his ear.

"Much," came the rumbling reply, followed of course by a sniffle. 

I pressed my lips into his hair again and again. He hardly moved as the heat soaked into him. I let my nails trail all over his skin and gave him a gentle massage, trying to help him relax, a feat he was rarely able to accomplish on his own

"Would you like me to wash your hair?" I murmured after a while.

He gave the barest nod in reply. Wordlessly I did just that, something else he would never consider allowing in any other circumstance.

I kept the soap far from his face, but the fragrance still had its way with him. I had nearly all the suds rinsed out when he suddenly jerked forward and leaned over the edge of the tub.

GihhIIISSHH'UH! Hhigg'CHUH! HihYEHSH'ooo!" He directed the spray as far away from me as he could, grabbing for the handkerchief to catch as much of the mess as possible. He mopped his face with a growl as he slid back into the water, but the spell was broken. He fidgeted against me, sniffling in irritation again and again as I finished rinsing his hair. 

I suppressed a disappointed sigh. "You might feel better if you went and laid down now that you're warmed up. Get yourself a bowl of soup while I finish up here."

He grunted his assent, lifting himself out of the water and quickly toweling off as he began to shiver again right away. He donned his robe, took his tea, and went to get his supper.

The evening came to a quick close after that. Richard ate a small portion of soup, drank two mugs of tea, and refused any medication, but did little else. He wouldn't be described as loquacious on his best day, but he spoke even less than usual. The only noise he made was the occasional soft cough or explosive trio of sneezes and his perpetual sniffles as he attempted his usual evening reading. His eyes never lost their weary, hazy look though, and he was constantly shaking his head or wiping a knuckle under his nose, so I wondered how much he was actually absorbing.

When I suggested we go to bed, he didn't argue though, which was very unlike him. He fell into bed wearily, and it seemed he was asleep even before his head hit the pillow. I silently wished to myself as I drifted to sleep that he would either be recovered in the morning, or else have the sense to stay home if he was worse.

~~~~~~~~~~

Richard's alarm went off at the usual hour the next morning, and he shut it off right away. Normally he was out of bed in moments, but today he lingered, pulling the blankets closer around himself with a little groan.

I rolled over and tried to go back to sleep, but he continued to shift restlessly. After a moment, I heard him take a wheezy inhale and then break into a coughing fit, wet and hoarse. I turned to look at him again. He was on his back now, with an arm flung over his eyes.

"Aww, love," I murmured. "You ok?"

"I'm not feeling quite like myself," came the mumbled reply.

I reached out to stroke his cheek, letting my hand rest on his neck where I could feel his hugely swollen lymph nodes. He was well and truly sick now, and he needed to stay home from work. However, I couldn't be the one to suggest that, or else he would turn me down immediately and insist he was fine, as he had the day before. It needed to be his idea. I went with a different approach.

I nestled close to his side, kissing his shoulder softly. I could tell he was still feverish even through his clothes. "Busy day today?" I murmured.

He grunted wearily. I couldn't tell if it was affirmative or negative.

"I packed a big bowl of soup for your lunch. I hope it's enough to keep you full through the whole day. And don't forget, I'll meet you at your coworker's reception tonight. Was there anything I needed to bring to that?"

He slowly uncovered his face. "I was… actually considering staying home from work. It shouldn't be busy today, I can afford to miss. And… I'm really not feeling well at all. I'll make our excuses to John about his reception. 

I did a silent victory dance in my head. "Oh, are you sure? I thought you had some important meetings."

"Nothing that can't be rescheduled." He cracked a red eye open, glancing at me suspiciously. "Why? Do you want me to go in?"

I shrugged nonchalantly, kissing him again. "I want you to do what you think is best. If you're not feeling well, you ought to stay home so you don't risk getting other people sick though."

"I suppose." He coughed hoarsely again, rubbing his chest with a grimace. "Yes, I'll stay home today. Let me call Carol and John."

He slowly stood and made his unsteady way to his phone, sniffling and coughing the whole way. The two phone conversations were very brief, for he hardly had to try to make a case for his illness, congested and hoarse as he clearly was. After he finished the calls, he shuffled back to bed immediately, heaping the blankets back over himself with a shuddering cough. I rubbed his back as he got settled.

"Can I get you anything, hon? Water, medicine?"

He shook his head. "Going to try to sleep this off," he mumbled, sleep already (or still?) heavy in his voice.

I knew medicine would almost certainly help his endeavors at sleeping. At minimum it would improve the quality of his sleep. However, I also knew he was stubborn about such things, so I didn't press the issue yet. "Alright." I kissed his hot cheek gently. "Then I'll leave you be for now. Let me know if you need anything. Sleep well."

I made the bed around him, straightening my side and tucking him in, then quietly left. The sound of his deep snores followed me out. So much for me sleeping in today.

He emerged again later that morning. I didn't notice him at first when he did, though. I had my headphones in and was dancing around while dusting. Turning around, I almost bumped into him, scaring us both. I yanked my headphones off right away, taking in his disheveled, sickly, blanket-wrapped appearance.

"You're awake! I'm sorry, I didn't hear you come out."

"Clearly," he rasped with the tiniest ghost of a smile. "You stayed home too?"

"It's my normal Friday off."

"Right, right," he sniffled. He then shuffled to the couch, collapsing onto it with a yawn. I went to sit beside him, unable to keep the concern from my face. I felt his forehead again, noting how he wearily leaned into the touch. I was forced to jump back though as he erupted into a volley of thick, chesty coughs. 

I sighed, surveying him with worry. "You're running quite the fever, love. And the cold has obviously settled into your chest now too."

He nodded limply with another sniffle.

"I'm not taking no for an answer this time, I'm giving you medicine and you're going to take it."

He managed to fix me with a condescending look. "Medication for a cold is essentially pointless. It just treats the symptoms."

"You think making yourself more comfortable is pointless?"

He opened his mouth to answer, or so I thought, but instead he lurched forward into a trio of wet, spraying sneezes:

"Heh'YEISSHH'oo! YEEIISH'uuh! Gih'HIH-shoo! --ugh…" The forceful snapping motion of his head when he sneezed looked incredibly painful, so much so that he pressed the heels of his hands to his forehead with a groan in the aftermath.

"Bless you, hon!" I waited a beat as he composed himself. "So… what was it again you were saying about the futility of treating the symptoms?" I asked, admittedly snidely.

He only grunted softly. I couldn't keep the smug look from my face when he met my eyes once more. However, seeing how thoroughly miserable he was reawakened my sympathy immediately. I reached out to caress his hair and cheek yet again.

"How about I make you some tea, yeah? And maybe a bowl of soup?"

"Please," he mumbled.

"Coming right up."

Another round of his thick, exhausting coughs followed me into the kitchen, and I couldn't help but wince in sympathy, even though he couldn't see me.

In a matter of minutes I had his meal ready. When I brought it back out to him, I placed the soup on the table and dropped a handful of pills and a capful of medication beside the bowl with a meaningful look. His only reply was a small frown. I resumed my seat beside him and was about to hand him the steaming mug when an idea occurred to me.

"Is your throat hurting badly?"

He nodded heavily with a little scowl, as if he hated being reminded of it.

"Here, this may help a bit." I raised the mug to the level of his neck, pressing it against his visibly enlarged lymph node.

His eyes widened and he half-jumped back from the initial sensation. 

"Trust me for a sec," I said gently, placing it against the swelling once more.

He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, but allowed it. After a moment though he visibly loosened. Making a sound between a whimper and a groan, he leaned harder against the heat. 

"Better?"

"Mhmmmm," he sighed.

After another moment I switched to the other side of his neck and repeated the process. He angled himself here and there to get the most heat coverage over the tender areas. Finally I slid the mug into his hands, kissing his forehead.

"Thank you," he breathed. "That was… relieving."

"You're very welcome. Now, can I do anything else for you at the moment?" 

"I'm fine. You don't need to fuss."

"I may not have to, but I want to, first because you're my husband and second because I know you're not 'fine.' But if you're going to insist you are, I'm going to go fold some laundry. Holler if you need anything. Or cough loudly if that's easier."

That earned me a Dr. Strand signature, the 'amused huff.' "I will. Thank you again."

"No thanks necessary." He received another kiss to the temple before I stood and headed to the laundry room with a last pointed look at the medicine. It occurred to me as I walked away that I was likely giving him an overabundance of kisses considering how contagious he clearly was, but he was just so darn pitiful.

Twenty minutes later, I returned to check on him, bringing a glass of water as well. The tea mug and soup bowl sat empty on the coffee table, surrounded by a few scattered tissues. The medicine was untouched. The doctor was huddled to one side of the couch with another tissue held loosely in his hand and one pajama-clad leg tucked under him, staring listlessly at the wall. However, at the sound of my footsteps he stirred with a sickly sniffle, scrubbing a hand over his face wearily. I smiled in greeting, and though he didn't return the smile, he did brighten a bit upon seeing me.

"What were you contemplating so deeply just now? You looked very lost in thought," I asked, handing him the water, then tidying up his little mess on the coffee table, leaving the pills.

He huffed a humorless laugh, looking self-conscious as he fiddled with the glass. "I was actually imagining how extensive the trial and error process must have been to determine how best to brew tea versus brewing coffee versus, for example, brewing beer. Roasting the ingredients versus drying versus fresh versus ground and boiling versus steeping versus fermenting. The amount of time that must have been necessary to perfect something so simple is rather astounding," he rasped, with many sniffles and throat-clearings thrown in.

I raised an eyebrow at him curiously. Aimless ramblings about random topics were not the norm for my painfully disciplined husband. "It is astounding I guess. I'd never thought about that before. Anyway, how are you feeling after eating?" 

"I'm fine," he said, finally setting down the untouched water, though the nasty cough that immediately followed his statement contradicted him.

This time I audibly sighed. "You do realize that you saying you're fine all the time is very counterproductive to helping me assess your needs? You don't have to be fine, love."

He gave me an odd look. "Conceptually, I know that. But you have to remember, for a long time I *did* have to be 'fine.' I didn't have the option to be otherwise. You, all of this… still feels like a new development or a dream at times. Old habits die hard, I suppose."

I sat on the arm of the couch beside him. He wordlessly leaned in toward me so I could lightly run my fingernails over his scalp. He softly groaned in pleasure.

"I'm not going to waste my breath telling you that I'm not going anywhere and I'm here for you, because you already know that. So I suppose I'll just have to keep showing you." 

I went to press a kiss to his head, but I caught a glimpse of his face and changed my mind when I saw he was about to sneeze.

"Gihh'chuuh! Hehh'choof! Ghnxt'choo!"

The sneezes were brisk and wet and left him breathless. He blew his nose with a wince before he spoke. "Sorry, could you repeat that? I missed most of it," he said, sounding stuffy and a little peeved.

I chuckled and complied, going for the kiss this time. He had no reply, but instead leaned against me wearily as I massaged his neck, yawning deeply. 

"You should rest again, love. Take a nap if you can. It's either that or watch TV, which you'll never do. I'm not sure you should attempt much else."

He wrinkled his nose. "I hate being so unproductive. I don't want to sleep the day away."

"Sleeping when you're sick isn't being unproductive, it's being wise."

"HehhGIH'choo! HEHHH-choo! Hihhh'YESSHH'uuhh!"

I was quite sure he didn't hear most of my statement, since he sneezed right in the middle of it. With a pitiful sound he tended to his nose yet again as I blessed him earnestly. Eventually his watery, heavy lidded eyes met mine. I couldn't help but notice yet again how flushed and disheveled he was and how utterly pathetic he looked, quite the opposite of his usual cool, collected self. 

"Guh. Sorry. What was that?" he asked with a pathetic sniffle, sounding very annoyed now.

"Aww, your nose. You really are sick, huh? Poor guy," I said, continuing to stroke his hair. 

He looked slightly offended. "You were having doubts about that?" 

I rolled my eyes good-naturedly. "It's just something you say, dear. 

"I'm aware of the colloquialism," he grumped. "But I find it a very odd one. And it's never been directed at me before."

"There's a first time for everything, then."

I was rubbing his back now. He yawned again, grimacing after, I assumed due to the sore throat. I also noticed he was starting to shiver.

"Ok, now seriously, tell me what I need to do to convince you to nap."

"I'm not sure," he said with a chesty cough, nestling deeper into the couch.

"Hmm. I accept that challenge." 

"And what challenge is that?"

"You won't tell me what I can do to help you, and perhaps you don't even know yourself, so I have to figure that out for both of us."

"I don't think there's anything I need though."

"You need to sleep."

He rolled his eyes with an annoyed huff, but I could tell he knew I was right.

I stood and went to put some smooth jazz on the record player in the room. Sitting down again, this time on the couch on the other side of him, I gestured to my lap.

"Come lie down."

"Wait-- lie down… right there?"

"Correct."

"Why?"

"Because you love hair scratches and neck rubs, so I'm making it easier to give them to you. Also you're apparently freezing and need to share some body heat."

He frowned, suppressing his shivers as best he could. Still, I knew he wouldn't be able to resist for long, tired and miserable as he was. Sure enough, after a moment he slowly levered himself down with a resigned sigh. 

I quickly threw a blanket over him, and then began the hair scratches. He made a tiny, appreciative sound. 

"Better?"

"Mm," he grunted.

"Good. But you're sweating, love," I murmured.

"I'm not sure how since I'm freezing," he mumbled with a cough.

"Your fever is higher. I can feel it just by touching you."

He groaned, snuggling deeper against me.

I massaged his neck for a while longer, trying to ease the tension from his muscles. He continued to be restless though, and apparently unable to regulate his body temperature. One moment he would be shaking with chills pulling the blanket closer, and then the next kicking it away from his legs with a moan of discomfort. 

The final straw for me was when he was overcome with yet another hacking coughing fit, curling in on himself miserably, trying to muffle it into his arm, the other hand clutching his chest.

Before he settled again, I leaned forward to grab the untouched pile of medication and glass of water from the coffee table. When he was again lying against me, I wordlessly held it out to him. He of course made a sound of irritation.

"Why are you being so stubborn? You need to sleep, and you can't sleep in the state you're in, at least not well. This will help your headache, fever, sore throat, everything so you can rest. I can tell you're exhausted."

After a final moment of consideration, he held out a reluctant hand. I handed him the items and he swallowed them without comment.

Neither of us spoke again for a long time, and didn't move from our places. I soothingly stroked his hair or rubbed his back, putting myself in a trance almost as much as him. 

I could see the medication talking effect. His restlessness slowly eased along with his coughing. It seemed I could even feel his body temperature decreasing.

"Hnnkkt'CHUH! Hehgg'CHUHH! EHHG'choo!"

Just as I thought he was asleep, his body twitched with a trio of sneezes, the quality of which could only be described as lazy--slow, thick, and dulled. They hardly seemed to stir him from his stupor.

"Bless you. Are you ok?"

" 'm fine," he croaked tiredly. We were both quiet for a while, then he spoke up again. "You know, one of the reasons I keep saying I'm fine is because I can't begin to describe what an improvement it is to be with you while being sick compared to being sick in bed alone. The difference is as drastic as night and day--better doesn't begin to describe it. Asking for anything more than what I already have just by your being here feels selfish."

Richard would never express such sentiments under normal circumstances, and hearing it said so plainly overwhelmed me with emotion. Yet I knew he wouldn't want me to reply in kind. He would prefer to state his piece and let it be. And indeed, I saw his eyes drooping heavier by the second, so I kept my thoughts to myself for now, but leaned over to plant a series of kisses all over his hot face. 

He hardly moved and didn't respond even when I finally stopped, but I couldn't help but notice the tiny smile playing around his lips as he drifted off to sleep.

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Kismet {9}

Henry Cavill x Famous OFC Aliya Taylor

Warning: Slow Burn, Mild Cursing, Dialogue Heavy, POV Changes

Words: 3.5k

Summary: Aliya is a singer turned model turned actress. Since she was fifteen, she’s been creating her empire in the entertainment world. As the daughter of a famous fashion model/designer and Hollywood director, you’d think life is easy for her, but her past has been anything but easy. Due to past trauma, she’s forever changed and no longer trusts any man that is not in her family and a select few in her team. She’s sworn off love and serious relationships and has planned never to fall again, but love isn’t something that can be planned. It just happens when it’s meant to. Can Aliya outrun a love that seems hellbent on holding tight to her, a love that is Kismet?

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As always, thank you so much for reading. ❤️❤️

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

***Interactive***

Previous Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 

The change within you was instantaneous, and your body fought it like a foreign virus. You’d barely slept a wink the night before. You tossed. You rolled. You took up your phone and hovered over Henry’s contact only to put it back down and toss and turn some more. Half of you wanted to talk to him so badly, but the other half wanted you to practice some restraint. There was no happy middle ground, and because there wasn’t, you struggled to find any peace in your mind. By the time you managed to fall asleep, it was one hour before you had to get up to prep for your day. When you opened your eyes, the first thing you saw was a message from the culprit to your sleeplessness himself.

 MSG Henry: Good morning, beautiful. I didn’t sleep a wink. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I must have picked up my phone ten times to text or call you. It’s torture not being able to hear the one voice you want to hear more than anything.

 As soon as you read the words, your heart literally melted, and butterflies filled your belly.

 “Christ almighty,” you whispered as your fingers itched to rapid-fire. Before you could catch yourself, you’d already typed out a reply and sent it.

 MSG: Good Morning to you too, handsome. I know what you mean. I didn’t sleep either. I almost called you so many times. I think you’re addicting.

 You reread the message then groaned at the last sentence.

 “Really, Aliya, addicting?” You rolled your eyes hard and pushed to get yourself ready for the day.

 By the time you’d left the hotel, he still hadn’t replied, and you regretted responding altogether.  So, here you were sitting in one of your four meetings for the day trying to keep your head in the game and your mind off of Henry’s lips, or his eyes, or the feel of his muscular arms around you. It was proving more complicated than it sounded. When you weren’t thinking of his lips, or his eyes, or his arms and kisses, you were overthinking your message and his lack of response.

 A little more than halfway in your first meeting, your phone went off, and you had to make yourself slow down and not leap for it. Nonchalantly, you glanced at the screen and saw Henry’s name.

 MSG Henry: Addicting, huh? I like that, but you should not be talking. I have been addicted to you since the day you bumped into me.

 Any worries you’d had the last few hours melted away, and a smile spread across your face.

 MSG: Do tell me more, Mr. Cavill.

 Barely a minute passed before another message came in.

 MSG Henry: I would rather tell you while looking in your eyes so you can see the depth of which I mean them in my eyes.

 You bit your bottom lip and closed your eyes. He was different alright, you thought.

 MSG Henry: I’m sorry it took me this long to reply. I’m trying to finish up all business between today and tomorrow. I had to hide my phone from myself, or else I would have been messaging you this entire time.

 You couldn’t lie. That felt good to know that he was having as much of a struggle going about his typical day to day tasks as you were. The knowledge of that comforted you, but it also worried you. This thing was still so new. For the duration of your meeting, you texted on and off. It continued as you moved to your second and third meetings, and by then, your focus was shot. The only thing you cared about was what he was saying.

 You loved how open he was. He always found a way to describe to you just what he was thinking or feeling while still remaining mysterious enough to have you wondering what he felt and thought. It was interesting. You’d always been able to predict every man that tried to enter your life. You could predict their motives, what tactics they’d use to try to weasel themselves in, and you often could predict how things would end. With Henry, you’d been having a difficult time with those predictions. It bothered you.

 By the time you got back to your hotel room, it was nearing seven o’clock. You wasted no time putting your phone on silent to concentrate on a little self-care beginning with a soak in the jetted tub. You did your best to keep your mind open to allow the meditation track you played to really work at loosening the knots in your shoulders and tension in your neck. The stress of your life, mainly from work, was really beginning to show. It had always shown, you just never listened to your body whenever it told you to slow down or take it easy.

 Many of your friends and family teased you that you lived to work instead of working to live. There were times you were inclined to agree with them because you didn’t need to work so much to maintain the lifestyle you were accustomed to. You had more money than you knew what to do with. You could afford to take time off to recharge but, you’d lived with the belief that the less time you had to be idle, the better it was for your mental and emotional health. Idle hands, after all, were the devil’s playground. You’d grown so accustomed to working nonstop that you didn’t know how to just do nothing.  

After almost two hours in the bath, as you walked into the bedroom, you saw your phone light up. It was an incoming call from Henry. Sighing, you plopped onto the bed, trying to fight back the smile that wanted freedom. The smile won the battle.

 “Hello?”

 “Did I wake you? I called earlier but--.”

 “No, I’m awake. I put my phone on silent and took a long bath,” you clarified.

 “Ah, that sounds relaxing. Maybe I should try that. I’m feeling this burnout more and more.”

 “Those who are serious about their craft work too much.”

 Henry sighed softly, and you wondered if there was a hint of mint and Guinness on his lips.

 “I don’t want to work tonight,” Henry declared. “Tonight, I want to be with you.”

 You dropped back onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. “Oh, do you now?”

 “Yes,” Henry confirmed, his voice dropping in baritone. Your belly fluttered, making you press your palm against it.

 “Have you eaten?”

 “I haven’t,” you breathlessly replied.

 “Good. I’ll be around for you in forty-five minutes.”

 You sprang upward. “That’s not enough time.”

 “Oh no? High maintenance are you?”

 You snorted and shook your head, hearing the tease and challenge in his voice.

 “Forty-five minutes then, just don’t get mad when I don’t look like pictures in magazines,” you quipped.

 “Come as you are.”

 Your reflection caught your eye. Because you’d gotten your hair slightly wet in the tub, it was now in a half natural half blown out state, making you look crazy. You doubted forty-five would be enough to tame it.

 “See you soon,” you said before hanging up to focus on getting yourself together.

 Forty-nine minutes later, you were dressed and on your way down in the elevator. As it made its way down, you assessed your appearance, thankful you were able to straighten your hair again to add a few loose curls. Part of you hadn’t wanted to bother, but you knew the dress you were going to wear would be better complemented with a sleek look. Your eyes skimmed the half sheer and half bodycon black dress you wore, loving that it was the right mix between sexy and classic. You added another layer of your mauve tinted lip gloss and just in time for the doors to open.

 It didn’t take long for you to spot him sitting in the lobby where one of the big-screen TVs were placed. He was watching a rugby match. You crossed the black and white designed tiled floors and approached behind him. When you dipped to his ear, his scent almost had a moan escaping you—almost.

 “Either, no matter where you are, you gravitate to rugby, or I took too long,” you whispered.

Henry turned, and the moment his eyes landed on you, a dumbfounded look washed across his face. You tried not to bashfully look away as you watched his jaw drop when his eyes took in the full view.

 “Wow.”

 A giggle that would have been nauseating from someone else slipped from you, making you press your fingertips to your lips.

 “You’re breathtaking.”

 You smiled, then gently tapped his chest.

 “Stop.”

 “I’m being completely truthful.”

 Those damn butterflies made their presence known once again.

 “Thank you,” you whispered.

 Henry held out a single peony to you. “For you.”

 As you took it, your smile widened. “Wow, one of my favorite flowers.”

 “Is that so?”

 You nodded.

 “Hmm, happy coincidence,” Henry replied as he stood and buttoned his suit jacket. Once done, he held out his arm for you. “Shall we?”

 You nodded and looped yours with his, ready for whatever the night brought on.

  -Henry-

As you sat across from him under the hanging flowers and dim lighting of the restaurant perusing the menu, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. It could have been the way the golden light bathed your skin, giving it an almost glowing aura. Or it could have been the soft smile pasted to your subtle painted lips. It could have even been the spell of the restaurant, the classical music playing, and the sweet scent of flowers that surrounded the two of you. Whatever it was, he itched to touch you, itched to get closer, and itched to do nothing but find a way to keep a smile on your face.

 “What?”

 Realizing you were now looking at him, he smiled back at you.

 “Nothing.”

 “No, no. That’s a something look,” you said, still not able to not smile.

 “It’s nothing,” he repeated.

 “Henry, seriously. What is it?”

 You reached out and gently slapped his hand, then rested it on top of the table.

 “Nothing, really. It’s just—I can’t seem to keep my eyes off of you,” he admitted.

 Your smile slipped, revealing a serious expression for a few seconds before you smiled again and dipped your head in a bashful way. Unable to keep his hands to himself any longer, he closed the gap between your hands and took yours.

 “Your parents must be proud to have raised such a charming son.”

 He smiled, then shrugged. “She has five of them.”

 “Bless her heart,” you added, making him chuckle.

 A comfortable silence drifted between you as he enjoyed the softness of your hand in his and the way your warmth mingled with his. He could get used to this, he thought to himself. When the waiter returned to the table to pour the chosen wine into your glasses, you pulled your hand away, but he didn’t take offense.

 “So, by this time next week, I will be off the grid,” he said after the waiter walked off again.

 A quizzical look swept across your face.

 “Off the grid? Are you a spy?”

 He smiled. “I promise I’m not.”

 Another waiter approached the table, this time carrying your selected third and final courses. He thanked the waiter as he laid the plates before you before he retreated.

 “You were saying,” you prompted, lifting your dinner fork from the selection of three different ones to your right.

 “I’ve earned some much needed R&R.”

 With your fork paused at your lips, you smiled. “Oh, that’s great. Congratulations. When was the last time you took a holiday?”

 He watched you chew and quickly got lost watching your mouth. It took him several seconds to regain his train of thought.

 “Eh-em, uh—perhaps a year and a half, if we are talking about a true holiday.”

 “Wow, that’s a long time.”

 “What about you?”

 You smirked, then scoffed. “Define holiday.”

 He returned your smirk then rested his knife and fork atop the braised beef on his plate before he replied. “Time off, no work, nothing that you have to worry about that can cause stress,  anxiety, or tension. Oh, and of course, sleeping late, drinking until three or four in the morning, fun every day, and feeling refreshed upon return.”

 You smiled as you finished chewing. He watched you take another sip from your glass and knew the wine was only making your lips even sweeter than they already were.

 “Ha! Jeez, when you define it like that, it’s been years upon years,” you replied.

 “Not good at all.”

 You nodded. “Tell me about it.” A soft smile was still on your lips as you placed another forkful of the pan-seared sea bass you were eating.

 With those words, a thought formulated in his mind, and it was a thought he wondered if he put words to would you be receptive. The remainder of dinner passed comfortably. Another reason why he couldn’t stop thinking about you and enjoyed being around you was because your conversation was always excellent. There was never any form of discomfort or awkwardness between you. You easily talked about so many things, and the things you said were always thought-provoking and intelligent. While everyone thought you were just a pretty face, you’d repeatedly allowed him to see that the world knew nothing.

 His hand was rarely without yours in it, and when he held your hand, you softly raked your fingernails against the palm and fingers. Every time you did it, the goosebumps that raced across his skin sparked a reaction that was visible much, much lower than his hand. Everyone else in the restaurant could have disappeared for all he knew because you’d captivated him and every single one of his senses.

 By the time you left the restaurant, it was close to midnight, but you didn’t seem to care what time it was. You held onto his hand as you walked along The River Thames. He often did this late at night when he couldn’t sleep. It was really the only time he could come and not be bothered or recognized because he was more than likely the only one there. Tonight your laughter danced through the air, and the gentle ebb and flow of the water only helped the glistening light from the bridge and neighboring buildings shimmer that much more. It was quite romantic.

You stopped and pressed your back to the iron gating that kept pedestrians out of the river. You stretched your arms out, leaning back as if to really enjoy the gentle breeze.

 “It’s a beautiful night,” you sighed out.

 Just like that, he drifted closer to you until there were only a few inches between your bodies. When you came upright again, your smile was still bright, even realizing he was so close.

 “Are you trying to push me in?”

 He smiled and shook his head. “Never.”

 “Oh no?”

 “No,” he repeated, taking another step to you.

 You bit your bottom lip then sucked it into your mouth, and he became even more painfully aware that he hadn’t sampled them since the night before.

 “Unacceptable,” he whispered.

 “What?”

 Reaching out, he cupped your jaw and slid his thumb across your cheekbone while he slowly traced every inch of your face to his memory. When his eyes met yours, he fell another foot or two deep into the quicksand-like pit of his growing feelings for you. He was so close to going under it was alarming.

 “It’s unacceptable that I haven’t tasted your lips in over twelve hours.”

 He heard a soft gasp escape your lips, and it was the only sound you made before his lips pressed to yours. The only move you made was to entangle your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck. The feel of your fingers against his skin brought those familiar goosebumps. He moaned, then pulled you flush against him. The feel of your body against his made his heart thump rapidly, and when you moaned against his lips, the need to consume you took precedence.

 When he delved his tongue into your mouth, he was shocked when you swirled yours around his, and the sensual move had him pressing you firmly against the iron behind you. It was out of character for him to do this so wide in the open, but he felt himself doing things that no one would ever guess he would do when he was with you. Your soft nibbled on his bottom lip brought his mind back to the rising dilemma, rising being the operative word.

 Pulling his lips from yours, he rested his forehead to yours. Both of you didn’t speak; instead, you were both lost in trying to catch your breath. Long moments passed, and in those moments, he fought to regain his composure. He’d never reacted to anyone the way he reacted to you.

 “Come with me,” he whispered, his voice shakier than he’d expected.

 Your eyes fluttered open, and he didn’t know if it was wishful thinking, but he swore he saw actual stars in them that put the night sky to shame.

 “Where?”

 “Away on holiday.”

 You pulled back a few centimeters and gazed into his eyes more intently. He watched them dart from his left eye, then to the right and back again. Slowly the stars vanished, and humor replaced them.

 “Good one,” you said before you laughed out loud, pulling your body from his.

 “Oh my god, you really had me going for a second,” you said through laughter.

 You took two steps as if to continue walking, but he laced his fingers with yours and pulled you back before him. You gasped, and the sound of it made him close the space between you again, pressing you onto the iron bars. With his body pressed to yours leaving no evidence of there being two bodies, you moaned, and the sound almost had him capturing your lips again. If he did though, he didn’t know if his hands would remain respectful.

 “I wasn’t kidding.”

 Your eyes were on his lips, and the desire for you to take control, almost overrode his desire to be in control—almost.

 “What?”

 “Come on holiday with me, just the two of us, a beach wine somewhere—anywhere.”

 He saw the moment you realized he was as serious as a heart attack.

 “You’re serious,” you reiterated.

 “More serious than I’ve been about anything.”

 You didn’t speak for the next minute, but you also didn’t move away. He decided he’d give you the time to consider it.

 You scoffed before you spoke. “What? Henry—we can’t.”

 “Why?”

 You gaped at him as if he were insane.

 “Why?” That was when you pulled away from him and took a few steps sideways while still leaning against the gate. “We—we don’t--.”

 You looked as if you were wracking your brain for a response, but you also looked like you were trying to catch your breath.

 “We don’t know anything about each other.”

 He took a step to you. You didn’t move.

 “Which is why a private holiday would aid in us getting to know each other—uninterrupted without the pretexts,” he replied.

 Your eyes widened before you shook your head then turned to face the water. You peered out silently, baffled. “Henry—we can’t.”

 He approached you, and as he leaned against the gate, you looked at him. “Tell me why,” he requested.

 “Why—because—I—I don’t do—that,” you stuttered.

 “What holidays?”

 He saw the exasperation wash across your face before it went blank. You stepped away again, then cleared your throat.

 “I have an early flight out tomorrow.”

 It was hard not to feel the rejection, but he hid it the best he could. Nodding, he held out his arm for you to take.

 “Then let’s get you back to your hotel.”

 The entire ten-minute walk, his mind went from one thing to the next. He worried he’d come on too strong, or that he’d said the wrong thing, or somehow offended you. Then he went back and forth with his decision to even ask you. Part of him felt like maybe he was jumping a little too far ahead, but the other part of him felt there was nothing wrong with inviting you especially based on how things had gone the entire night and the vibes he picked up. That made him wonder if he’d read the evening entirely wrong.

 When he stopped with you in your hotel's lobby, he was in no hurry to ask you again. He’d begun to feel quite stupid. His hurt feelings needed the night to recover. He took your arm from the crook of his elbow and held your hand. Again, you didn’t pull away. Deciding he couldn't afford to give you the time to, he lowered your hand and stepped away from you.

 “Thank you for dinner.”

 “T—thank you,” you said barely above a whisper.

 He nodded and debated his next move. He took a timid step forward and kissed your cheek.

 “Have a safe flight.”

 “Thank you.”

 This one was a whisper.

 “Good night, Aliya,” he breathed out before he quickly kissed your forehead then walked away out the door and down the street without looking back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[voidcat]

— take me home

Characters: Dazai Osamu/gn!reader (+agency members)

Genre & wc: fluff — 1.9k

a/n: happy Valentine’s Day!!! Normally I was gonna make this one big thing but my writing style for all this so far and “the second part” don’t carry the same vibe. (Also it was getting v long) Anyways, enjoy. I still suck at naming fics. — part 2 !!

“You could feel the bomb going off and suddenly-“ Doctor Yosano stops looking at the clock, “Oh it’s been that long already? I shouldn’t keep you waiting for any longer” she motions with her hand to you with a smile.

“It’s alright, I enjoy hearing your stories.” You smile back. “If it’s alright with you and no new cases show up, would you like the finish the story tomorrow at my place? Maybe over a cup of tea or a glass of wine?”

The glint in her eyes tell you the answer long before. “Only if the infamous pastries Ranpo cannot get enough of are there!” Yosano says with enthusiasm and all you can do is nod and share the excitement.

As she proceeds to get her coat and bag, you decide to wait until you hear someone else speak up.

“I thought you didn’t like to have people over?” Atsushi asks standing behind you with a stack of papers and files.

Eyes closed, you hum “True, true… But I make an exception for some, dear. Where did you think we baked all those for Kyouka?”

Stopping for a second to recall that day Atsushi scratches his head. The moment of realization comes to him fast, apparent from the sudden change of expression and the wide smile on his face “Oh! You’re-“

“I thought you didn’t allow anyone in the kitchen!” Ranpo exclaims rather loudly, slamming the newspaper he was reading moments ago onto his table.

Tilting back and forth from where you’re standing and occasionally looking for Yosano to come back, you turn to where his voice came from. “That rule only applies to you, I’m afraid. No matter what an amazing detective you are, cooking and baking simply aren’t your forte.” With one hand in the air as if offering the plainest of truths, you say.

“However you’re still my most trusted taster, so please don’t make that face?” You finish with an apologetic smile and hearing a low rumble coming from him, you let out a breath thinking you’re off the hook.

You thought wrong.

As Yosano’s heels clank against the surface, you can feel a persistent gaze on your back, already sensing what’s to come next. Before you can make an attempt to the door however, Dazai announces your name, in a whine no less, coming a little too closer than you expected right behind your ear.

Slowly turning back to see his smug face, right in your personal space just as you guessed, you refrain from rolling your eyes. “What was it Dazai? Is something the matter?”

Coming all the way from wherever he was previously , he couldn’t be here now for anything other than to bother you. You just hoped Yosano would show up and drag you away before your patience was tested again.

Raising his arm and resting the back of his hand against his forehead, eyes closed and mouth open, as if a he were a character straight out of a tragedia, Dazai opts for the dramatic route. “Yes! I’ve just been informed of horrifying news!”

“Which is?..” you leave the statement unfinished, already knowing what’s to come.

“That you never invited me over to your house! And we’ve been friends for the longest time! What our live have come to, have we driven so far away from ea-“

“Enough with the antics Dazai, we’re busy, can’t you see?” Your savior, Yosano cuts in putting a hand over your shoulder. Turning to look at her, you mouth a ‘thank you.’, and you think she has never looked as beautiful as she does in this moment now, with the golden sun behind her setting, the lights illuminating her face, making her look like those heroes painted to be immortalized.

As you step out, you hear Yosano stop and say: “And for the record, I’ve known them the longest.”

The day spent with Yosano goes better than you could accept. By the end your face hurts from laughing, your stomach full from all the food and drinks you’ve consumed, times flies away like a plane and by the time Yosano makes way to the door, it’s dark and you’re both dragging your feet.

Despite the enjoyable day off, Dazai’s recent behavior starts to make you question if it was worth inviting her over so publicly.

At any chance he gets, he tries to get you to give away something about your location, who has been over before and how many times, what type of hosts you prefer and ‘oh maybe we never got the chance because of our schedules, you should invite me over some time’, ‘don’t be so shy, we’re friends after all! Oh is it your place you’re ashamed of? Worry not, I won’t judge!’, ‘hey are you free on a Thursday night?’s met with ‘No, I don’t want you over.’, ‘Yes, I have a very good reasoning.’ And almost a slip up of a ‘I’m free- Oh wait, I have a date with Sergio, sorry no can do!’.

For each cheeky smile he offers, you give back a grunt or a snarl, one time almost yelling right in front of the director and another time you stomp out of the office in fury while Atsushi watches in horror.

Fifth time of your hiding in the café and you find yourself wishing for a crisis to surface, the carefree Dazai to be replaced by the serious and logical man that manages to impress you no matter how hard the case, counter measure after counter measure, even if he takes reckless risks once in a while.

Inhaling the sweet smell of your tea before taking a sip, your wish seems to have come true partially, from the set of steps approaching you in a determined yet unrushed pace.

Taking a long sip, savoring the taste and the warmth of it, you slowly place the cup down and open your eyes to see Dazai standing in his neutral and calm state.

The two of you stay like that for a while, like a photograph, the café empty and the mixed smells of coffee and tea lingering in the air, not quite looking at one another but not dozed off either.

When he opens his mouth, it doesn’t feel like the moment has been broken, not even a clearing of throat or a quite mumbling under his breath beforehand, yet his voice flows along the smells despite the absurdity of the topic of conversation.

But you beat him to it. “If you’re going to be standing for so long, you might as well sit down.”

He settles down as you reach for your cup again.

“So, how are things with Sergio?” He says the name with a hint of hostility.

It takes everything in you not to spit out your tea laughing. “Sergio is a street cat I take care of.”

Composure and crossed arms off, Dazai’s eyes widen. “But- you said that-“ “A date with Sergio, yes, for his yearly check up at the vet.” You finish for him.

“That was just an excuse to get you to stop bothering me.” You add.

“Fair enough, I deserved that.” He chuckles “but you did mention you had a very good reasoning for not inviting me over. I know I pestered you enough about that…” he trails off, reaching for your hand with his. “And yet, would you be so kind to tell me why?” he asks, eyes locked into yours.

“My cat doesn’t like you.”

And this, you think, is the exact moment the atmosphere is ruined, the photograph ripped apart in the middle.

Dazai just stares at you, still holding your hand.

Blinking few times, rather unimpressed, you notice a waitress by the counter, probably there to rearrange something.

“Alright, I’ll be off now if that’s all!” You say a bit too cheerfully, pull your hand before Dazai can do anything, pay and leave as soon as you can.

Dazai just blinks, hands still in the air, stays frozen like that until Kunikida drags him back to work.

Bad decision after bad decision seems to follow you wherever you go because after that interaction at the café, it gets worse.

You thought Dazai was like a fruit fly before? It gets more irritating than an army of them. And on top of that, Kunikida scolds you to undo whatever you’ve done on Dazai, his already poor work ethics now on the floor, getting on Kunikida’s nerves and yours.

Hearing your name spreads terror in you now, the second your ears catch the familiar tone of Dazai’s voice, you fleet for your life.

Coming clean and explaining your statement from earlier would be the logical way to end this but fate disagrees as it laughs you in the face.

“Why wouldn’t your cat like me? I didn’t even step foot into your place before!”

“Hey Dazai, remember the day you wouldn’t get off my back? Trying to embrace at any chance and I gave up in the middle of the day at one point?” Resting his hand under his chin to think, as if his face doesn’t make it obvious he remembers the day crystal clear, he lets out a “hmm…”

With a snap of fingers and a “Ah! I remember now! You were so comfortable, I almost fell asleep.” He grins.

With a shake of your hand, trying to dismiss the memory of how he basically trapped you to the couch, you cough and continue. “That evening, when I got home, my clothes must have reeked of your smell.” He nods, good, so far he seems to follow. “My cat just sniffed the air once and stayed in the living room until I washed those clothes and took a bath.”

Hands resting on his hips, he keeps nodding and humming in understanding. “I see…”

You let out a breath, thank god it’s over.

“Nope! Still makes no sense.” Hs exclaims suddenly, turns away and leaves. You just stare at his back, now it’s your turn to blink in ‘unbelievable, is this real?’

The loud chatter and pestering doesn’t stop however and with each word, it gets more ridiculous.

“Is your cat perhaps jealous of me? That you secretly love me and they don’t want competition?”

“The cat is just another excuse, isn’t it! Admit it, you have a secret! It must be something you’re afraid I won’t like.”

“Is it Chuuya? Did you take pity and let him rent a room?”

“I don’t even know a Chuuya…”

“Maybe a weird collection…” he gasps and says your name. “Are you a hoarder? Is that why you won’t let me in? I told you already, I would never judge your lifestyle!”

“Dazai, please stop-“

“No, no, I got it this time. It’s a shrine of me! Isn’t it? Your face tells it all, it is a shrine! Ah, I must say I’m flattered, if not a little scared now.”

If anger could set a fire, you think Kunikida would be arrested of arson right now. You just rest your head in your palm, trying to ignore Dazai’s ongoing nonsense.

“Is there really a-“ Kenji begins a question as Ranpo ends it with a firm “Nope!”

Getting up from your place at last, you grab Dazai by his coat and drag him out.

“There is No shrine, no other human, no hoarding or weird collections. It’s just me and my cat who scrunches his nose when I bring home a file that sat in your desk all day!”

Before giving him a chance to reply, you walk away.

The next day, and many other days to follow, goes uneventful, Dazai’s never ending bickering about your house seems to have reached a stop. Everyone, especially Kunikida, enjoys the newly achieved peace of going back to normal. You hope this marks the end of this whole nonsense, and that the Dazai everyone knows with a little mix of annoying and impressively serious has returned back to his sense of regular.

Tags: @atsumusdomain @celosiiaa @ywanfen

[darter-blue]

okay so I reached 300 followers today - and in appreciation for putting up with me and my silly blog you all get a little gift!

Here is 2k words of Stucky fluff just for you, dear followers. Thanks for all your love.

Worth it

Bucky is pretty sure that this was a terrible idea. Every single date he’s ever been on in his life has been a disaster. How he could have possibly been persuaded to believe that not one date but twenty dates, in succession, in increments of ten minutes a pop - speed dating, his best friend had called it with a smile intended to deceive, but torture, might be a better descriptive - would be in any way a good idea is beyond him. It felt like extreme dating in the same way that ironing over a cliff face was extreme ironing, dangerous and nauseating. And Bucky had always preferred to just live with the wrinkles thanks. Anything that required more care than, ‘stick it in the dryer on high and wear it immediately’, was not a piece of clothing that ever made it past the first wash. 

He felt kind of the same about dating.

Anyway. However he looked at it, this was not the ‘opportunity to meet someone great’ he had been promised. This was just a faster, more efficient way for Bucky to get stepped on. To meet people who saw his looks and smiled and then spent the remainder of the date growing increasingly disappointed with the reality of his personality.

Well. At the very least, Nat was going to owe him that fifty bucks. Because not one of the guys he had met so far would ever put Bucky down as a potential match. 

But finally it feels like, after too many beers and way too many sweaty, lingering hand shakes, Bucky has finally been through all twenty dates. And thank god. So far, over the course of the night, he’s been told he should speak up more, to smile more, to put his hair up, to sit straighter, to talk less about math, and to seriously reconsider his fashion choices. He is so fucking ready to go home he has his keys already in his hand. But while he drains the last of his bottle and prepares to get up from his chair and run (before the speed dating organiser can grab him for his card and his ‘insights’), someone new sits down gracefully into the seat opposite him.

Somebody he doesn’t remember from the introductions.

And he’s looking up from where tight blue jeans around thick thighs have slid into the seat, up to a broad chest in a t-shirt that has to be two sizes too small, up to shoulders so wide they could carry a bus, and up, up, up to the most beautiful face Bucky has ever seen in real life. Or at all, in anything maybe.

It’s ridiculously unfair how attractive this man is.

His dark blond hair is long and swept back. His skin is golden against a dark, full beard that frames his high cheekbones and pink lips. His eyes are the kind of blue that only exists in magazines. And he’s smiling. A real, enthusiastic smile. 

At Bucky.

Bucky looks down to make sure he’s been drinking light beer - and not something heavy enough to have him hallucinating. The label is just the cheap crappy stuff that the dating company provided. Doesn’t mean it hasn’t been spiked, though, he doesn’t feel dizzy.

He looks back up at the guy and he seems to have deflated a little at Bucky’s less than stellar response. Which… well, that’s basically the story of his life.

Bucky raises an eyebrow but chooses not to say anything (what would he even say, besides hello. Okay hello would be a good start. But he’d just mumble it anyway. And fuck it up like he always does)

But the guy is not deterred.

‘Hey,’ he says, dialling the smile back up, ‘How’s it going?’

Bucky looks at the guy, this perfect, gorgeous guy, looks around for the moderator, at the other daters, at the general public inhabiting the rest of the bar, and tries to figure out whether he’s being punked or something.

‘Umm…’ Bucky looks back to the guy and tries to find a word, any word, to help him figure out what is happening. ‘Hi?’ His brain is apparently not cooperating.

‘Hi,’ the guy replies, his smile, somehow, getting brighter as he does. He holds a hand out across the table to Bucky, long, strong fingers, and a wide palm. Perfectly manicured fingernails. And how are even his hands beautiful. ‘I’m Steve.’

Bucky reaches out his own hand, nails bitten down and blue ink stained into the cracks, shaking the outstretched palm and feeling himself want to linger in the warmth and softness of the guy’s shake. ‘Bucky.’

‘Bucky?’

‘Nickname,’ Bucky says automatically. But the guy doesn’t seem put off by the tone. If anything, his smile seems to widen at the answer.

‘It’s cute,’ the guy, Steve, says with a low, husky laugh, ‘Bucky.’

‘Umm… thanks?’ Bucky says, raising his eyebrow even further. ‘You don’t... ‘ he starts, and then clears his throat, the nerves getting to him, making his throat itchy, ‘I don’t remember you from the introductions.’

‘Oh yeah, no. I’m not part of the group,’ Steve says with a wave of his hand, dismissing the notion, ‘I’m here with some friends.’ He gestures to a bunch of guys at the bar, looking like some kind of movie star football team, pretending not to be watching their buddy do… whatever it is Steve is doing here.

‘Are you… Did you need something, or…’ Bucky is rambling now, nervous as to what Steve might be doing if he’s not here for a torturous ten minute date.

‘Your number?’ Steve says, raising one perfectly arched eyebrow of his own.

‘My what?’ Bucky says without thinking.

‘Your phone number?’ Steve repeats, looking a little less cocky now, ‘You know, so I could call you sometime.’

And Bucky is frozen for a moment, his mouth open, his eyebrows raised. Probably not a good look at all. He snaps his mouth shut and tucks a strand of his dark wavy shoulder length hair behind an ear. Buying himself some time. ‘You aren’t part of the speed dating group?’

‘Uh-uh,’ Steve says, shaking his head.

‘You’re here with your friends?’ Bucky asks, trying to pin this all down. 

Steve nods.

‘And you just came over here to get my number?’

‘I did.’

‘My number?’ Bucky asks incredulously. 

‘Absolutely.’ Steve says. And that tone leaves no room for argument. 

It sends a little shiver down Bucky’s spine to be honest. The first time all night he’s felt any flash of heat.

‘Why?’ Bucky asks. He knows you're not supposed to ask that. But, well, Bucky certainly wouldn’t be here if he was any good at meeting people, flirting, or being on a date in the first place.

‘Hmm…’ Steve says, placing one lovely finger against his bottom lip in mock contemplation. ‘Let me see. I’ve been sitting over there,’ he points back to his recently abandoned spot at the bar, ‘Watching losers come and go from this table all night,’ Steve drops his hand and leans forward, ‘Asking you the stupidest fucking questions I’ve ever heard asked, talking over you,’ he’s picking up speed now and Bucky is helplessly fascinated by the way Steve’s blue eyes are almost glowing with fervour, ‘Not appreciating one goddamn thing you’ve had to say. Not laughing at that hilarious crack about obtuse angles, and not treating you with the kind of reverence that you deserve.’

Bucky is watching Steve rant about how awful his dates have been, hears him unabashedly complimenting his math humour, feels his genuine affability crash over him, and it starts to hit Bucky that maybe this guy is actually serious.

Maybe this glorious man is actually interested in asking Bucky on a real fucking date.

‘Also,’ Steve says, Bucky suddenly and sharply focused back to his words as Steve’s voice drops to a sinfully deep register, ‘You are definitely the most beautiful guy I’ve ever seen in my life.’

And whoa.

Bucky blinks. And tilts his head in confusion. He can’t be serious… can he?

‘You came to a speed dating night in a sweater vest. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more adorable.’

‘You’re joking,’ Bucky says. Because every single person who sat down at his table tonight, once they got past the long hair and the pretty face, had bemoaned his choice of outfit for the evening. (Even Nat had told him to lose the vest).

‘I am deadly serious,’ Steve says. And the heat in his eyes as he looks at Bucky is evidence of his sincerity.

‘You know I’m a total nerd.’

‘I can tell that you’re brilliant,’ Steve counters, ‘You’re like a mathematical genius.’

‘I talk to my pot plants,’ Bucky says, leaning forward in his seat.

‘I love that,’ Steve says without hesitation, smile growing wider by the second, ‘You can’t scare me away Bucky.’

‘I’m not trying to scare you,’ Bucky says, and it’s true, ‘I’m just trying to preempt your eventual disappointment.’

But Steve is shaking his head. He laughs that low husky laugh and looks up at Bucky through beautifully dark, long eyelashes. ‘A, I could not be disappointed by you if you tried, and B, can I get your number? Cause I’d really like to call you.’

Bucky can feel himself smiling, by some minor miracle. He can feel a flush spread through his cheeks. He can see the other daters getting up to hand over their cards. None of them have spared a glance back at Bucky, though plenty of them have given Steve a second look. 

He looks back to Steve, who’s now pouting his pink lips at Bucky, just enough to make Bucky actually laugh out loud. ‘Yeah, okay, sure. You can have my number,’ Bucky says, accepting Steve’s phone as he hands it over and adding himself in the contacts as ‘Math nerd - Bucky’ really wanting to make sure Steve remembers what he’s getting himself into if he ever actually tries to call him. 

Steve takes his phone back and immediately calls the number, Bucky can feel his phone vibrating in his pocket. He pulls it out to show Steve that it's ringing, and Steve shrugs his giant shoulders and laughs again. ‘Just checking.’

‘Well-’ Bucky says.

‘So-’ Steve says at the same time.

They both laugh, but Bucky gestures for Steve to go first.

‘I was just ah, wondering if you might be free right now?’

And oh, Bucky’s heart skips a little at the question. And the hopeful, nervous look that Steve is giving him right now. He looks down at his watch. It’s ten, but it’s Saturday tomorrow. He has no classes. Nowhere to be. 

‘Yes,’ Bucky says, and Steve breathes out with a smile, ‘I’m free now.’

‘Great let me just…’ Steve gestures back to his friends and Bucky nods. 

He’s expecting Steve to just drag him over to the group and maybe buy him another beer. But Steve is waving to his friends, slapping a few shoulders, laughing and ducking his head. He’s grabbing his jacket and jogging back to Bucky.

‘You like ice cream?’ He asks Bucky as he reaches him.

‘Yeah, I like ice cream,’ Bucky replies, tilting his head, still a little confused but mostly charmed by this gorgeous, strangely sweet man he’s just met.

‘Cool. I know this great ice cream place.’ And he takes Bucky’s hand to lead him through and out of the bar. Past the daters and the organisers who are looking at him with surprise. Smiling back at Bucky as he checks to make sure he’s got everything.

And something in Bucky is melting.

But also he’s a little pissed.

Cause it looks like he’s going to have to fork out that fifty bucks to Nat after all.

Only one more look at the guy who’s got his hand in his soft warm grip and Bucky can’t even be mad. It’s totally worth it.

Steve is totally worth all of it. 

[buferfliz]

The Only One I See

This is just some fluff i wrote for my sweet tamaki baby, he’s so adorable. SO i hope you enjoy it.

Warnings: mild angst and insecure feelings, sappy fluff

Word count: 1330

         You’d had what could only be called “a day.” Nothing went right and it had left you feeling tired, upset, and most of all insecure. This, in turn, led you to overthink everything.

Now you were sitting on your couch still feeling insecure but trying your best to move on. I just need to distract myself and I’ll feel better, you thought as you turned on the TV. You flipped around until you came to a news report involving the capture of a wanted villain earlier that day. You couldn’t help but smile as you saw that the pro hero responsible for the capture was none other than your sweet boyfriend of three years, Tamaki Amajiki. He answered all of the reporter’s questions confidently and you felt so proud of him.

You started dating him back during your third year of school. He was so shy and awkward back then, you remembered. It took some work and lots of encouragement but you had helped him to become a little more outgoing and a lot less awkward. You weren’t sure how much you had really helped but Tamaki always told you that he would have never been able to do it without you and that made you happy. He was always so sweet and gentle and kind and you felt like the luckiest person on earth that you were the one he loved.

You continued to watch the report, smiling, until you noticed how the woman interviewing Tamaki seemed to lean in a little too close or would ‘accidentally’ brush against his arm. Most of the nearby crowd also appeared to be full of women, all screaming out “Suneater” or giving him looks that you did not like. Tamaki, however, was completely unphased by all of it. He maintained his professional demeanor, always conscientious of the way he should present himself to the public.

Were you jealous? No. You knew that Tamaki would never hurt you. The problem was that you were already feeling insecure and all of these beautiful women were practically throwing themselves at your boyfriend. You weren’t unattractive, you knew you weren’t, it’s just that you didn’t think you were all that beautiful either. You were average and that was fine but Tamaki deserved the best and in that moment you didn’t think that was you. Why would he want you when he could have his pick of any number of beautiful women?

So much for distracting myself to feel better, you thought to yourself as you flipped the channel to some rerun just to have noise in the otherwise quiet house. You swiped some tears from your face as you looked at the clock. 10pm. Hmm, he’s usually home by now, maybe he had extra paperwork, you thought as you went to wash the pots from earlier. It wasn’t surprising that Tamaki had missed dinner. It happened when you were a pro hero with a busy schedule. You always made sure to make him a plate and put it in the fridge for him for when he got home. Even still, it was kind of late. You grabbed your phone and checked for messages. None. Hmm, he must really be busy to not even text. You put your phone back down and finished up the dishes.

As you put the final pan to the side to dry, you heard the door open and in walked Tamaki. “I’m so sorry bunny. Time got away from me and I had to pick something up.” He walks over to you and gives you a hug from behind as you stand at the sink. “Hi love,” you said softly.

Tamaki immediately knew that something was wrong. You aren’t the soft spoken type which is part of the reason why he loves you. It helped him so much back when he was still so shy and awkward all the time.

“What’s wrong bunny?” he asks as he turns you to face him noticing the tears that had fallen down your cheeks. “Oh no, I’m so sorry. I should have texted you. I didn’t mean to upset you.” He says in a concerned voice thinking that was the cause of your tears.

“No, it’s ok Tama, you didn’t do anything wrong. That’s not why I’m upset.” You reassure him.

“What is it then?” He asks as he leads you over to the couch and sits you in it. He takes a seat next to you.

“Nothing. Just a bad day is all. I’ll be fine.” You say.

“Bunny I know that isn’t the real problem, tell me.”

“It’s stupid, don’t worry about it. I saw you on the news. I was so proud of you.” You smile gently, tears still apparent in your eyes.

“Bunny. My love. It’s not stupid if you’re this upset. Please tell me what’s wrong.” Tamaki says in a serious tone looking in your eyes. You heave a sigh.

“It’s just you’re the greatest, you know? So sweet and caring. I don’t deserve you. I’m nothing special.” You confess.

“What are you talking about? If anyone is undeserving it’s me, of you. You’ve done so much for me and you keep doing it. Why are you saying this?” He responds.

“Tama, you’re so handsome.” His face turns a slight pink at your compliment. You continue. “There are so many beautiful women out there that would throw themselves at you including that reporter. So why would you want me?”

“You’re my perfect beautiful bunny. Why would I want anyone else?” He asks you sincerely.

You turn away from him as you say, “I’m not perfect.”

Tamaki feels his heart break as he hears you say such disparaging things about yourself. He gets up and kneels on the floor in front of you trying to recapture your gaze.

“Look at me bunny.” He says as he gently grabs your chin and turns your face to meet his intense look. “You’re perfect for me.” He tells you as he wipes away the tears that are falling down your cheeks. “You see all these other women, but my bunny, my love, you’re the only one I see. And you’re the only one I want to see, the only one I will ever see.” He passionately says to you. “And I can prove it.”

He gives you a loving smile as he fumbles around inside one of the pouches of his hero costume. “I said I had to pick something up and I was going to plan some special thing but I don’t want to wait now.”

You furrow your brow as you watch him fumble around and raise an eyebrow when he takes out a small box.

“Bunny, I love you so much. You’re the only woman in the world that I see and that will never change no matter how much time passes. So..” He takes a deep breath and opens the box. “Will you marry me? Be my bunny for all of time.”

You let out a gasp as you cover your mouth with your right hand. “Tama, oh my god, really? You’re sure I’m who you want?” you ask still unable to fully shake your insecure state.

“Only you bunny. Only ever you.” He says.

His sincere expression and loving smile make you feel warm inside and new tears begin to fall. But this time out of joy instead of sadness.

“Yes Tama, I’ll marry you. I love you more than anyone else.” You return his loving smile and your insecurities of a few minutes prior are replaced with pure love and happiness.

Tamaki puts the ring on your finger and pulls you to him before giving you an intensely loving kiss. You throw your arms around his neck returning his fervent kiss, each of you pouring all of your love for one another into it. And just like that, one of your lowest days had turned into one of the happiest of your life.

[ice-cream-writes-stuff]

¤°~Driving With The Stars~°¤

It was a simple Saturday in Twisted Wonderland. No school, no friends over. Just a relaxing day with nothing to do. (Y/N) lays on a couch in the lounge room. Mindlessly scrolling through Magicam, looking at posts her friends or classmates post.

A knock was heard on the Ramschakle door. (Y/N) had a gut feeling it was Crowley at the door. "I'm not gonna get up..." She drawls out lazily as her head snuggles into the pillows. "Really?"

"Well, I am glad I let myself in then." Mr. Crowley says as he stood in the middle of lounge room. "Gah!" The female screamed as she falls off the couch. "Ow..." She mumbles out in pain.

(Y/N) fixes her spot on the floor so she could be sitting crossed legged.

"Hi, Headmaster Crowley..." (Y/N) said with a lackluster tone. "What brings you here?" The female asked, waiting for him to give her and Yuu a task that he didn't want to do himself. "Well, you see (Y/N), there seems to be a problem out on the Ramshackle lawn," Crowley said with a aggressive tone.

"Wha-! Hold on, I need to check this out." Hurriedly getting up from her spot, she speed walks to the door. Opening the door, she takes a few cautious steps outside. Looking around to see if anything looked suspicious.

"Headmaster... There's nothing here- *gasp*!"

Right in front of Ramshackle was a car. A. Car. Didn't those only exist in her and Yuu's world?! (Y/N) runs up to the machine and starts to look at it up close.

"No way!! How is this even! When! How, what?!" The dorm leader screams loudly, her eyes practically turning into stars.

Mr. Crowley appears next to the star-struck girl. "You see, (Y/N). I've had this old car for a long time. I never really used it often, but I got a new car a few days back. So I decided to let you and Yuu to have my old one."

"How gracious am I!" The old crow states loudly. (Y/N) slowly turns her body to face Crowley. They run to the Headmaster, before Crowley could react. (Y/N) engulfed him into a tight hug.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you." (Y/N) says softly, not wanting to yell in his ear drums. Headmaster Crowley gently pats her back. The female student realased Mr. Crowley from her bear hug. Turning her attention to car once more. "So, do me or Yuu need a licence to use this thing or- and he's gone..."

(Y/N) gives a tired sigh and look at the cars. "Does this thing use keys?"

Stuffing her hands in her pocket, she felt something odd. Taking the small item out with confusion. Her previous questioning face turns into a fond look. A simple grey key was attached to keychain, along with a little tag attached to it. Spelling out Ramshackle in pretty hand writing.

Taking yet another look at the vehicle, (Y/N) sees that it looked rather similar to some of the cars in her world. It wasn't fancy or high tech, it was just a plain white, medium sized car. It was ordinary, simple, clean looking too. Maybe a little used, but (Y/N) could care less.

"Hmm, welp. I guess Headmaster Crowley wouldn't mind if I test this bad boy out!"

"Okay, let's see inside... Oh, it's just like the cars back home! Thank God!" Breathing out a sigh of relief, she puts the key in the ignition. The car roared as it started to turn on.

"Okay, hands on the wheel. Foot on the pedals and breaks. Alright, I should take a few test drives!"

______________________________________________

(Y/N) steps out of the car, shaking a bit. She couldn't tell if it was out of fear or excitement. Either way, she had to hold on to the roof of the car for support. The phone buzzed from her pocket. Taking it out with a wobbly hand, she clicks the notification.

Cater had posted something about a race that would be held tonight outside of school and how he was gonna record everything. (Y/N) reads over the post and takes a screen-cap on where the race was gonna be held. "Maybe I can test out my skills," she jokes dryly to herself. Thanking who-ever-above for not crashing into stuff and getting into a accident.

(Y/N) stiffly walks back to Ramshackle after parking the car inside the Ramschakle gates. Once inside her dorm, the ghosts start to question where she was. "Take a look outside, there's your answer." The three ghosts poke their heads outside and see the piece of machinery.

"It's me and Yuu's first car, so if you guys posses it or let Grim near it. Things are not gonna be pretty." (Y/N) said as her voice turned from joyful to serious. The three ghosts fearfully agree and congratulate her on the new car. Even if it was probably older than their dead souls.

She heads upstairs to her/Yuu and Grims room. The little furball slept on the covers while Yuu was reading a book, "I am the king of magic..zzz." Grim says in his sleep as he snores a bit. (Y/N) snickers at her animal friend and goes through her closet.

Only a few items of clothing would be good to wear outside. The clothes she had on were for lazy time, not outing wear. 'I gotta get a little more clothes, most of these outfits are for school.' (Y/N) held back a wince when she saw the outfit she wore for her "wedding day" yet smiled at her old fairy gala clothes. Beans day, dang, so much paint to wash out, it was pretty fun though!

'Where.. Wait, I think this would look nice..? Maybe.' (Y/N) was not a fashionista when it came to clothes. But, she could try today. "Hmm, ah-ha! This should be good enough." She picks up her items to wear, then remembers Yuu and Grim. Hoping that fire cat was still asleep, (Y/N) whispers to Yuu about what happened earlier this morning. Yuu gets up from his spot on the bed and goes over to the window to see the car, while (Y/N) quickly dashes to bathroom.

_____________________________________________

A young man steps out of his car. It looked nice and sleek, only with a few bits of dirt on the wheels. The car was definitely new looking. This driver of the car could be said the same. He wore nice clothes that looked like they couldn't be affordable.

His eyes were narrow and he had a cunning smirk.

He laughs once his opponent cries out in frustration. Cussing out few words as they bang their head against the drivers wheel. The male teen leans against his car and asks if anyone wanted to challenge him. Know one stepped up. The guys tsks and decided to take a break from driving, he'd rather wait until someone had enough guts to face him.

A simple white car drives up to the area. Parking against some of the other vehicles, teens look up from their phones and conversations to see the newcomer. A young male steps out, he bore red hair and had a dumb smirk on his face. While another boy stepped out the car after him, he had dark blue hair and started to argue quietly with the light red head. Soon other males get out of the car.

It almost looked like a clown car at how many people could fit in it. The "ring leaders", were the last one's to get out of the car.

(Y/N) stares at everything with subtle excitement as she and her friends group together. "(Y/N), I'm still surprised you've drove us here. I didn't think vehicles existed in your world." Deuce tells the female with a curious look. Unaware of her uneasy smile she had after he said that.

"Yeah, there are cars and motorbikes in my world. But.. They are a little different I guess, and I learned to drive in my old world once I got older." (Y/N) explained as she and her friends find a good spot to stand in. "Deuce, I think you should be more surprised that the Headmaster gave her a car."

"I never thought the cheapskate would just give you his car," Ace says with a sigh. "His old, used car." Epel clarified. "Right. What Epel said, or anything related to vehicles in general."

"Headmaster Crowley gave it to us. So until we find our way home. We can use it to travel besides mirrors." Yuu said softly, remembering that when Crowley finds a way for them to return home. There not gonna have these moments anymore.

The group of first years went quiet after his words. Jack decideds to lighten up the mood by pointing out that one of the party guests were getting ready to race. They all look up at the big hill as the race started. The nice looking car was in the lead, while the other was behind. The race ended and the nice car won.

Murmers from other party members were heard. Saying, "dang, Bryan is such a jerk." Or, "he always gloats about his driving skill." Sebek overhears this and looks at the winning driver.

They were a young human teen, male. He reeked of arrogance and pride. Someone not even worthy of his time, he was nothing like Lord Mallues and his elegance! (Y/N) sees Sebek turn his nose slightly at the winner. She couldn't blame him though, the winner was a real jerk about winning.

Deuce and Epel walk over to the winners car with amazement written all over their faces.

Not caring about the loud owner of the vehicle. "So cool.." Epel whispers as the car seemed to shine a bit. "It looks really new, how did this guy afford it?" Epel was so caught up in sleekness of the car that he was about to lean on it.

"HEY! Get your grubby hands away from my car!"

"Eh!" The two first years say in sync, startled from the outburst. Epel and Deuce straighten up as the winner of the race approached them. "What makes you think you guys can just go up and touch my ride?!!" "We didn't me too!"

Deuce said, trying to defend himself and Epel. (Y/N) takes notice of the situation and steps in front of her friends. "Woah, wait a second. They just apologized, there's no need for you to yell at them." The female says, trying to control the situation.

The once angry male was now looking up and down (Y/N), his frown turns into a suave smile. "Look hon, I'm just saying that those weirdos shouldn't have touched what they probably would never own." Bryan chuckles out, placing a hand on his hip. "Besides, it's not like they can even enter the race without a car. So why are they even here, their practically useless."

(Y/N) could feel her two friends seething from behind her. The female felt Yuu hold her wrist to calm her, she was just as ticked off as Deuce and Epel were. "I'll race you!" The female said without thinking at all. Not that she could give a damn at this moment.

A few gasps and "oh's" were heard after she challenged. Bryan smirks wickedly, "alright. The first one who makes it down the mountain wins. Though, I doubt your going to." (Y/N) scoffed at Bryan, he then gets in his car and drives up the hill.

Dirt and dust fills the air once he left. Coughing up dirt, (Y/N) burps and glares at the spot where the car was. "That guy is going down." The dorm leader said, not seeing Yuu their head.

Both cars had their engines on, parked side by side on the road on top of the hill. The sound of crickets was drowned out by the cars purring as a few fireflies flew about. The moon gleaming brightly in the dark sky. (Y/N) grips her driving wheel in agitation.

A scowl on her lips as she clenched her teeth. Bryan looks over at her from his car window. He grins, "maybe once this race is over. Why don't you and I go for a little cruising down the street. How's that~"

(Y/N) stomach turns as this dude was trying to mess with her. "You wish..!" (Y/N) barks at him, her anger rising like a volcano. A timer rings out in the air, and Bryan immediately revs his car engine and takes off. "Shoot!"

(Y/N) clamps down her foot on the pedal because of her late start. Rushes of white and blue could be seen going down the mountain. (Y/N)'s fellow first years watch from below. "Do you think she's gonna be okay?" Ace said, Jack hesitantly nods.

"She should be fine as long as she doesn't crash.." The six first years could only worry for (Y/N)'s safety. Said girl on the other hand could care less. Turning her wheel to the side, she pulls her shift gear and sloppily turns left and right. The two drivers were neck and neck yet (Y/N) passed him.

She smirks and keeps her eyes on the road. But a little squirrel scurried on to the road. (Y/N) gasps in shock and tries to avoid hitting the furry creature. Though at the cost of swiveling out of control.

"AAHHH!!"

(Y/N) hits the brakes as a loud shriek of the tires stop on the road. The car stops on the left side of the road as Bryans car drives past her. (Y/N) catches her breath, sweat and a few tears trickle down her skin. "Shit, I need to catch up!" (Y/N) was about to step on the pedals but sees herself in the review mirror.

The female lets her hands drop from the steering wheel, along with moving her foot from the pedals. (Y/N) opens the car door and steps out. Leaning her back against the car, trying the calm her beating heart. (Y/N) closes her eyes and turns her head up at the sky. "It's okay.."

(Y/N) says to herself, "I'm okay."

Sucking in a deep breath, she breaths out. "The stars look nice tonight." (Y/N) utters quietly, a determined look crossing her face. (Y/N) stops leaning on the door and opens it. "I can still cross the finish the line."

*Extra*

When she makes it down the hills road. Bryan stands by his car, a smug look on his features. (Y/N) parks her car and steps out. Bryan mocks her, yet she gives him a strained smiles. "Good race," and then walks over to her friend group. They glomp her in a hug, yelling at her and asking if she was alright.

(Y/N) just grins proudly, asking them if they wanted to drive up the hill with her. Not to race, but to see the stars.

The End.

(Good god this took forever, I had no ideas on how write about driving. Mostly music about driving and T.V shows kept my motivation flowing. Sorry if this isn't great, but I did my best. Thanks for reading!)

[hieludoboi]

A List of Things I’d Like to do With You (Pt 4/9)

A/n- hahahahahah this got deleted but I had it saved on my grammarly and prowritingaid accounts so we’re gucci. Just gotta proofread now 

A/n- this is just me indulging my Bokuroo fantasies tbh 

Links- Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 5

Summary- Cute little carnival/amusement park date

Pairing- Daichi/Fem!Reader

Word Count- 6,000+

Trigger Warnings- Sick reader, terminal illness, vomit, blood, pretty sad, crying

________________________________________________________________

Daichi’s mother sighed as she sat on the park bench, a watchful eye over her three-year-old son. Daichi was running as best as he could through the sand, finding joy in kicking it up as he ran. The park was empty, filled only by Daichi’s occasional giggles and the creaking of the swings gently swaying in the evening breeze. 

Daichi wasn’t always the most social of children, being too shy and scared to play with the other children, and his mother desperately hoped that bringing him to the park would help him open up. It was rare that Daichi would want to play with the other children, preferring to observe them instead. But then she had shown up to the park.

A younger woman with a chubby little girl who couldn’t stop laughing or smiling. From the moment she had wobbled into the park, it seemed to grow brighter. Daichi was instantly drawn to her, his eyes following her all over the park while she ran around with different groups of children. 

Though, Mrs. Sawamura had to admit that the little girl had quite the character. It seemed like an eternity before Daichi stopped staring and finally walked towards her. The little girl was running around with a group of kids, giggling and laughing while they played tag. Daichi’s mother watched her son, smiling as he slowly started walking towards her, a shy smile on his face. 

And then he stopped in his tracks, eyes wide as she ran blindly towards him, head turned to the side to look at her mother with a wide smile. In two seconds they had knocked into each other, falling into a heap of limbs onto the sand. The little girl cried, face scrunched up while one hand covered the bruise on her shin. Mrs. Sawamura ran towards the children, looking up in time to see an apologetic and sweet-faced woman rushing towards the children. 

Before either of them could get to the children, Daichi had leaned forward, his forehead bumping against the girls with a soft ‘knock’. Both women stood in shock behind their children, watching as they looked up and giggled, wide grins and closed-eyed smiles as they bumped heads again. In the amount of time it took them to realize what had happened, Daichi had stood, helping up the little girl before she pulled him off to her group of friends. 

“Oh. Well, that went better than I thought.” Mrs. Sawamura giggled at the stunned look on the woman’s face. 

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

“All together, we have...... around 580 yen.” Daichi sighed, leaning back on his palms. It was cool outside, the spring breeze wafting between the trees and grass while Daichi and Y/n sat on Y/n’s porch. The convenience store wasn’t too far away, and their parents wouldn’t be home for another hour or so. As two fourteen-year-olds, they didn’t have too many options. It was either wait and starve or walk to the convenience store down the street and bicker over what they would share. 

“That’s enough for some onigiri and drinks!” Y/n determined, placing her fist in her hand, a grin on her face. Daichi groaned, shaking his head. He was not in the mood for onigiri. 

“It’s enough for some meat buns and drinks.” Daichi corrected a satisfied smile on his face. Daichi could practically feel Y/n’s entire face scrunch from beside him. 

“Onigiri.” Y/n grumbled, glaring at the side of Daichi’s face. Daichi scowled, turning to look at Y/n, a dark look on his face. Y/n’s eyes widened, her body trembling. Daichi’s ‘serious’ face was scary, but she would not waver. 

“Why don’t we just do one meat bun and one onigiri, problem solved,” Daichi suggested. Y/n groaned, dragging her palms down her face.

“We discussed this already! Onigiri is like 100 yen each, which leaves 280 yen for drinks and maybe chips! Meat buns are 200 each, that leaves only 180 for drinks and snacks! Onigiri are cheaper and yummier!“ Y/n argued, huffing when Daichi rolled his eyes.  

“You two are ridiculous. Just get one meat bun, one onigiri, and you’ll have enough for drinks.” Y/n and Daichi looked up, momentarily breaking their staring contest to see Suga shaking his head above them. 

“Suga, one onigiri will not be enough to pull me through the day!” Y/n explained, an exasperated look on her face. Daichi nodded, agreeing with her for once that day. 

“Yeah, one meat bun will not be enough!” Daichi echoed, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“I think you’ll survive. Besides, your guys’ parents will be home soon to make dinner.” Suga reasoned. Y/n hummed, deep in thought. Daichi narrowed his eyes, seeming to contemplate Suga’s words.

“You may have a point.” Y/n mumbled. Suga smiled, reaching down to help Daichi and Y/n up from the porch.

“Let’s go then, yeah? My friend’s grandma runs the convenience store down the street and said they’re having a special on onigiri, so let’s go!” Suga whined. Y/n giggled, standing up and sticking her tongue out at Daichi. 

“Told you Onigiri are more cost-efficient!”

“Those were not your exact words!” Daichi grumbled, standing up to trail behind Suga and Y/n. 

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

It was one of those rare Saturday afternoons that Ukai had given them off. With nationals inching closer and closer, their free time seemed to be growing thinner. Practices took up most, if not all of his time. Yet still, he made time to go visit her. With the winter fast approaching, and the snow threatening to fall, Daichi found himself bringing her fresh flowers as often as he could.

Walking into the cemetery no longer had the effect it once did. The smell of chrysanthemums still stung his nose, but his rage was becoming less and less. He had taken Suga’s and Asahi’s advice, keeping her alive through his memories. It was a nice sentiment, and maybe it wasn’t how he wanted to spend his life with her, but it was much better than acting as if nothing had happened. Yet still, he was running out of things to talk about with her, the only things left being her list and her death. And while Daichi was happy to laugh and talk about their air balloon ride and their night under the stars, he was still not ready to remember how she died in his arms, face scrunched in agony, eyes glassed over as she realized her death was inching nearer. He didn’t want to think about the way she screamed, squeezing his hand purple while she begged the doctors to make it stop. Daichi sighed, pinching his temples and shaking his head. Not yet. He still had good things to talk about. 

Daichi took in a deep breath, relishing in the way the crisp December air stung his nostrils and chilled his chest. Lately, there had been no one to greet him at her grave, only flowers left by the other boys who would come on their free time, even some things from Bokuto and Kuroo who had been friends with her when her family moved to Tokyo for a few years before coming back, their friendship being rekindled at the training camp. 

He had recently become friends with the owners of a small flower shop. They were quite the pair, the old lady being very brash and opinionated, keeping the old man laughing and on his toes. The old man was serious, her exact opposite. He seemed to keep her grounded, stable, and unwavering. In some ways, Daichi could see Y/n in the woman, and himself in the old man, and it made his heart ache. He wondered if they would have led a life like that. Old and wrinkled, yet still full of life, a little shop all their own crawling with grandchildren every Saturday, their children coming in every Monday to help carry heavy vases.

This time, Daichi held a bouquet of yellow tsubakis in his hand. He grunted, settling in the cold and stiff grass, placing the bouquet next to the purple bell flowers that he could only assume one of the boys had brought her. 

“Sometimes I feel stupid for coming to talk to you. You’re dead, donezo as you would say... Sometimes I come and see Suga sitting here just talking the day away, telling you about everything and I feel stupid. I just- I don’t know why everyone’s okay with it and I’m not. You’re not suffering or anything anymore, but-” Daichi could feel his jaw clench, his eyes snapping shut to prevent any tears, but they fell. They spilled as if fleeing from a broken damn, dripping down his face onto his pants and shirt. He felt stupid. 

It had been so long, and he thought he was getting over it. Just last week he had sat with Asahi and talked to him with a smile on his face. He attended practices and acted as a good captain should. He felt fine, so why was he crying? Why did things suddenly become hard? How come all his progress seemed to get washed away by tsunamis of sorrow?

“Kou, she doesn’t like bell flowers!”

“Tetsu- yes she does! Which one of us did she go to school with, hmm?”

“Ugh, you, but-”

“Exactly! I know her better than you do!”

Daichi looked up, his vision blurred by his tears, his body trembling and weak. Hurriedly, Daichi wiped at his eyes, hoping to wipe away any traces of his pain.

“Huh, Daichi? Are you okay?” Bokuto’s voice was soft, full of worry and sympathy. His eyes were rounded and soft, a small frown tugging at his lips. Daichi nodded, sniffing, and turning to look at the trees behind him. He was fine. It had been months, he had to be fine at this point.

Daichi could hear both captains huff before plopping down beside him, the bottom halves of their faces covered by scarves. Bokuto turned to look at him, his smile hidden behind his scarf but present in his warm eyes. Kuroo offered Daichi a smile, reaching over to place the purple bell flowers beside Daichi’s bouquet. 

They sat there in silence for a moment, Bokuto twiddling his thumbs while Kuroo stared off into the distance, eyes focused on nothing in particular. Daichi could hear Bokuto fiddling beside him, humming while he played with his scarf. Who knew encounters outside of the court could be so awkward.

“Hey, uhm, not to be rude, but are you feeling okay?” Bokuto asked, his bottom lip caught between his teeth in worry. Daichi looked up in surprise, his eyes locking with Bokuto’s. 

“Uh, yeah. I’m pretty okay, I guess. It’s just hard...” Daichi mumbled, his hand holding onto the back of his neck, cheeks dusted over with a soft blush. 

“Well, at least two of us are doing okay. Bokuto seems to bawl his eyes out every other day just by thinking about her. You’d think they were soul mates with the way he cries.” Kuroo scoffed, leaning back on his palms, gazing at the clouds in the cold and gray sky. 

“We weren’t! We were just good friends, and it hurts to lose someone you cared about! I may not have been as close to her as Daichi, but she was still my friend and I miss her. A lot, okay!? And at least I process my feelings instead of being a jerk like you!” Bokuto retorted, tears pooling in his eyes, his hand reaching up to pull down his scarf so he could yell at Kuroo. “Maybe if you had an Akaashi, you would know how to process your emotions in a healthy way!” Bokuto added, turning his entire body, his lips in a pout while he sniffled. Daichi’s eyes widened as he looked between both males. What happened? 

Kuroo’s eyes seemed to soften, a soft sigh escaping his lips. Daichi chuckled when Kuroo gave him an apologetic smile before crawling towards Bokuto to sit next to him, his arms wrapping around Bokuto. 

“Kou, I’m sorry, bro. I know it’s hard, and you’re doing a great job. I’m proud of you, bro, so forgive me?” Bokuto wrapped his arms around Kuroo, nodding his head before pulling away to wipe his tears away. 

Daichi couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face and the laugh that left his lips. Their bickering reminded him of the way Y/n used to pick fights with him when she was bored. It made his chest fizzle with warmth, his cheeks feeling warm and pink with joy. He understood why she adored those two as much as she did.

“What’s so funny?” Bokuto huffed, his mitten clad hands still wiping at his eyes. Daichi shook his head, the grin still on his face.

“It just reminds me of the way Y/n and I used to argue.” Daichi chuckled, staring at the silver bracelet on his wrist with fondness. 

“Tetsu! What if we’re soulmates!” Bokuto gasped, his hands gripping Kuroo’s shoulders, shaking him. Kuroo groaned, but couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his face.

“You’re my world, bro!” Kuroo declared, laughing at Bokuto’s antics. Daichi felt his smile drop a bit. They thought Y/n was his soulmate? Was she? Daichi stared at the flowers, deep in thought. Perhaps they were soulmates. 

“Oh! That reminds me! Y/n promised to tell me about the carnival! But, you know...” Bokuto mumbled, his eyes focused on his crossed knees. Daichi looked up, his eyes seeming to twinkle a bit at the mention of the memory. 

“Oh! Yeah, for sure, She got a spike to the face that day...” Daichi admitted, a bashful smile on his face.

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

Garbage. That’s the only way she could describe the way she felt. Her face clung onto a sickly pale and yellow undertone. The meat that used to reside on her bones had become a snack for the reaper that loomed above her head. Her eyes were like grainy and murky pearls resting in the deep and hollow pits of clamshells, and her cheekbones spiked through her skin like mountain peaks. Okay, so maybe she didn’t look that horrendous. In reality, she had shed maybe ten pounds? But she felt disgusting, her body wasting away into nothing. At her doctor’s appointments, she was told that she was surprisingly healthy, told she was fine, and maybe it was because they weren’t living with death that they didn’t see what she saw. 

Yet, even with the constant threat of death, she found something to keep her happy. At the moment, it was her relationship with Daichi. As promised, they tried. It wasn’t all kissing and cuddles; it wasn’t just romantic, but Y/n liked it. She liked the warmth that spread across her body whenever Daichi held her hand. She lived for the way he gazed at her. She adored the massages to her scalp, the kisses to her knuckles as they laid in his bed. The study dates, each celebratory hug after each game that was won, the little bits of intimacy that suddenly were sprinkled all throughout their interactions. It was subtle, nothing to hoot and holler about, but it made her happy. 

As per Daichi’s request, the events on her list were now planned, having a time and date. Though she lived for the spontaneous moments in life, she also liked knowing when things were happening. Even a person as chaotic as she could enjoy stability from time to time.

Y/n hummed to herself as she rolled in the five-gallon cooler filled with water. Kiyoko trailed behind her, checking things off of her clipboard and occasionally shooting Y/n a question or two. 

“Y/n-San!” Y/n looked up in time to see Noya and Tanaka running at her, hands outstretched to try to catch the volleyball that Asahi had accidentally sent flying her way. She couldn’t move, her feet practically glued to the ground. Before she knew it she was stumbling and tripping over her feet, her body falling onto the hard gym floor. Y/n groaned, holding the side of her head, her vision out of focus and her temples throbbing. Everything was spinning, and the familiar burn at the base of her throat began to bubble. Before Daichi or anyone could react, Kiyoko quickly helped her up, rushing Y/n to the bathroom. 

Y/n cried as she hunched over the toilet, Kiyoko rubbing her back to comfort her. It hurt, it hurt so bad, and all Y/n could do was sob and heave as the sick and blood flew from her lips. She hated that Kiyoko had to see it, hated that someone knew. No one was supposed to know. 

“Y/n...” Y/n looked up at Kiyoko to see her hand covering her mouth, tears welling in her eyes. “W-we need to call an ambulance, or-or take you to the doctor-” Kiyoko stuttered, her hand shaking as she reached for her phone.

“No! N-” Y/n heaved, gagging and wincing as nothing came up. “Please, no. I’m okay. I-” Y/n shuttered as she wiped the blood from her lips, looking down at the back of her hand to stare at the blood. “Sit.” Y/n patted the floor next to her. The bathroom floor was filthy, but she couldn’t find the strength she needed to stand. She still felt so light-headed, her vision going in and out of focus. Kiyoko nodded, sitting down beside Y/n, her hand still gripping her cell phone. 

“Please. Don’t tell anyone, I- I don’t want anyone to get upset.” Y/n stuttered, wincing as she hiccuped, the taste of sick and metallic blood coating her mouth and tongue. Kiyoko stared at Y/n, her eyes soft and sad. Though her hand was still trembling, she reached out, gently taking Y/n’s hand into her own. 

“I have terminal stomach cancer.” Y/n whispered, her hand gripping onto Kiyoko’s with a vice-like grip. It was the first time she had admitted to anybody that she was sick. It was the first time she had acknowledged she was sick. Y/n looked away, covering her mouth with her free hand to muffle the soft sobs that spilled from her lips. She was sick. Dying, she was dying and there was nothing that could cure or save her. No amount of treatment in the world could kill the cancer that was already spreading through her body, tearing it apart like a rabid and hungry animal. She was dying.

Y/n shook her head, her body trembling violently, the sobs spilling from her lips growing in volume. Oh god, she was sick. Kiyoko sniffled, pulling her into a hug on the filthy bathroom floor, holding her tightly against her body as she sobbed into her shoulder. Y/n was heaving, crying and practically screaming into Kiyoko’s shoulder, the hurt reverberating through her chest, filling the bathroom with a solemn haze. Soon, there was nothing left of her voice, her mouth meekly hanging open in a silent scream, her erratic breathing rocking her body to the core. 

It’s not like Kiyoko hadn’t seen it. In fact, most of the other boys had probably seen it too. Her eyes, though still bright, were now dull. Her body seemed to be subtly wasting away, the fullness of her face subduing. She wasn’t gaunt; she wasn’t terrible, but anyone who knew her well enough could notice it. 

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

Daichi sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose while Asahi, Noya, and Suga bickered in the background. Noya had been teasing Asahi for the past fifteen minutes about how his spike knocked Y/n to the ground. Suga had kept telling Noya to leave Asahi, but Noya was relentless in his attacks, leaving poor Asahi sulking and damn near close to tears.

“Short stack! Leave Man Bun alone or you’ll be running laps!” Ukai screamed, his eyebrows furrowed with anger. Daichi laughed, shaking his head as Noya instantly stopped, practically trudging back to the court to work on his receives. While they were poking fun at Asahi, Daichi couldn’t help but wonder how Y/n was doing. She had taken a spike to the face, and was struggling to get up, her face going pale while she stumbled over her feet. 

Speak of the devil, Daichi thought to himself, breathing a sigh of relief as Y/n walked back into the gym, Kiyoko right by her side. Daichi stared at her as she walked by, his eyes raking over every detail of her face. She seemed a bit dizzy, her eyes glassed over and her skin a little ashen, but nothing seemed too out of the ordinary. He hummed to himself, his eyes focusing on the redness of her eyes and the swelling of her cheeks. Had she been crying? Daichi turned around, eyes meeting Ukai's, silently asking for permission. Ukai gave him a curt nod and Daichi silently thanked him before jogging towards Y/n who was sat next to Kiyoko on the stage.

"You okay?" Daichi asked, taking her hands in his, his thumbs brushing lightly over her knuckles. Y/n sniffled, leaning forward and letting herself be caught against Daichi's chest. Daichi grunted, chuckling as she buried her face into his chest.

"Did it hurt that much?" Daichi teased, bringing a hand up to gently massage the back of her head. Y/n huffed, pulling back to butt her head against Daichi's. 

"Jerk. If you caught one of Asahi's spikes with your face you'd be crying too!" Y/n retorted, sharply turning her head so Daichi could only see her cheek. 

"Wow. So that's how it is!" Daichi huffed, leaning forward to nudge his nose against her cheek. He laughed as Y/n gasped, eyes going wide with embarrassment. He loved seeing her get all flustered. She obviously wasn't doing too bad, but Daichi still couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.

"It is! Now hurry so we can go on another escapade! You take way too much time in the shower to be idling by!" Y/n said, pushing Daichi away from in between her legs so he could join the others.

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

"Okay, can you tell me where we're going?" Daichi asked, leaning slightly to the left to lean his head against Y/n's shoulder as she drove. Y/n huffed, shrugging his head off of her shoulder before pulling into a relatively empty parking lot. "Is this- are we at an amusement park?" Daichi stared at Y/n with disbelief. An amusement park? 

"Yes, sir!" Y/n chirped happily, unbuckling her seatbelt to practically jump out of the car. Daichi sighed, dragging himself out of the car. It's not that didn't want to be there, but the smell of hotdogs and grease, fried foods, and the occasional pile of vomit were not the least bit appealing to him. But the smile on her face was all he needed to look at to go along with her plan. 

She called them escapades, little adventures they took based on her bucket list. She always seemed to be teeming with glee whenever they completed one. Her eyes regained their usual glint, her smile was no longer restrained, and the color even began to seep back into her skin. It was the only reason Daichi let himself be dragged along. 

"So... Games or rides?" Y/n questioned, taking his hand in hers as they walked into the park. Daichi hummed, looking around the park and contemplating his options. 

"Games first. I wanna be corny and win you a huge stuffed animal." Daichi said, nodding his head with determination and placing his fist on his palm. Y/n laughed, shaking her head in amusement. She was relaxed, leaning into Daichi's side and playing with his hand as they looked for their first game. 

"Bet you I can win you a stuffed animal before you can!" Y/n teased, pulling away from Daichi, a sly grin on her face. Daichi tutted, staring at her in surprise. Her competitive streak hadn't shown itself in a while.

"Oh? How much do you wanna bet?" Daichi questioned, leaning close to her face, a smirk on his face. 

"If you lose, which you will, we go get onigiri!" Y/n grinned, leaning forward, almost closing the gap between them.

"Fine. If I win, which I definitely will, we go get meat buns." Daichi declared, closing the gap between them to capture her lips in a playful kiss. Y/n pulled away, casting her gaze off to the side while her fingers played with the bottom of her shirt. As flustered as she was, she would not lose!

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

It took a while before they finally settled on ring tossing. It took a lot of bickering and convincing, but there they were, glaring at each other as they practically ripped the rings out of the poor worker's hands. 

"I'm gonna beat you, Sawamura." Y/n threatened, her gaze still locked onto Daichi's. 

"That's rich coming from you, L/n." Daichi's voice was cold with a playful lilt, the same smirk still plastered onto his face. Y/n tutted, breaking the staring contest to instead focus on the game. Not because Daichi's smirk made her flustered, totally not because of that, not at all...

Daichi laughed, practically throwing his head back at the scowl that adorned Y/n's face. Y/n could feel her face scrunch, but she paid no attention to Daichi or his antics. She took a breath before throwing her first ring, groaning as it clung to the rim of the bottle before slipping off.

"What'd you say, L/n?" She could hear the stupid smirk in his voice. God, she wanted to punch him in his stupidly handsome face sometimes. Daichi gave her a smug look, tossing one of his rings and waiting for it to land. Only it didn't, not even close. It flew short, falling before it could reach it. Y/n could feel the laughter burst from her chest like water flowing from a broken dam. 

"Dude! Oh my god! You should see the look on your face right now!" Y/n was cackling, doubling over and holding onto her sides, wheezing while tears pooled in the corners of her eyes. Daichi was hunched over, eyes locked on the fallen ring on the dirt floor. He? Missed? Daichi watched as Y/n stood back up, her cheeks glistening with tears of laughter. He had four rings left, he still had a good shot of getting all three bottles. 

"Doesn't count," Daichi grumbled, scowling when Y/n continued to tease him.

"Daichi! Watch this!" Y/n called, easily tossing a ring onto the rim of the bottle. Daichi stood straight, eyes locked onto the rims. He was going to win. He wasn't the most pride obsessed person on the planet, but he'd be damned if their dinner wasn't some tasty, big, and juicy meat buns. Y/n straightened after leaning over to throw her third ring, visibly deflating when it missed. She had two more rings, and only two bottles left. Daichi still had a chance.

Daichi cleared his throat, standing tall when Y/n turned to look at him with confused eyes. He made sure to make a grand display, picking up the ring with exaggerated gesture and leaning over with his butt sticking out before daintily throwing the ring, watching with a smile as it spun around the rim before falling in place around the neck. Y/n groaned, turning away instead to focus on her bottles. She was a prideful person, and losing a bet she made did not sit well with her at all. 

"And we have a winner!" Y/n looked up in surprise, mouth hanging open as Daichi smugly stood with his hands on his hips. 

"Take your pick, Y/n." Daichi's smile was wide, spreading across his face and leaking into his eyes and the red tips of his ears. Though her pride had been badly bruised by the loss, she couldn't help but feel giddy as she pointed to the massive frog that sat atop the rest of the plushies. Daichi thanked the man running the stall as he gave him the frog, turning to place the stuffed frog in Y/n's open and waiting arms. 

"Thank you." Y/n murmured, leaning forward to place a chaste kiss to Daichi's cheek. She could feel the warmth rush into his face the moment she pulled away, his mouth hanging slightly open.

"It was nothing,” Daichi admitted, rubbing the back of his neck while he looked around the rest of the park. 

"More games? Or do you wanna go on rides?" Y/n asked, her chin resting on the top of her frog plush. Daichi tapped his chin in thought. They had many options here. They could waste their money on more games and probably not win prizes because let's face it, these games are rigged. They could use their bracelets to their advantage and ride every ride they had to offer, which probably wasn't a good idea as both of them had really bad motion sickness. Or they could gorge on all the greasy and fried foods until they were stuffed sick.

Daichi loved food, adored it, but he knew he wouldn't be ab;e to enjoy the soggy grease smothered fried food on sticks without Ukai yelling at him. The games, though fun, would only cause an argument. For as much as he loved her, sometimes he just wanted to shove her into a pit. Daichi was a bit of a sore loser, and Y/n an even bigger one. Some rides weren't too bad, not all of them were roller coasters that would make them throw everything back up. 

"What if we ride the carousel?" Daichi suggested, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her into his side. 

"We'd look like idiots." Y/n deadpanned, looking up at Daichi with a serious expression. Daichi rolled his eyes, sighing through his nose.

"Since when have you cared about looking like an idiot?" Daichi shot back. Y/n scoffed, turning her nose upwards. 

"Excuse you, but I am a very dignified person!" Y/n retorted. She watched as Daichi laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners, his head tilting back. Did he really think of her that way? She knew he was joking, but she couldn't help but bite the inside of her cheek with worry. Did he think she was an idiot?

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

Y/n laughed wholeheartedly as she hoisted herself onto the metal horse, watching as Daichi situated himself on the horse next to her, sitting straight and tall, mimicking some fake posh pose. 

"Madam," Daichi said seriously, pretending to tip his 'hat'. Y/n stifled her laughter, trying her best to curtsy on the horse.

"Good sir," Y/n replied, the grin creeping back up onto her face. 

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

Daichi hummed to himself happily as Y/n pulled him around the park, going from game to ride to food to game. She was buzzing with energy, pretty e/c eyes glimmering in the red, blue, green, and orange light of the park. At this point, they had gone on almost every ride, save for the rollercoasters. The only ride left was the Ferris wheel.

"C'mon!" Y/n tugged at Daichi's hand, pulling him closer to the giant and lit up wheel. They were some of the last people left at the park, and the lines for everything were now a lot shorter. In a matter of minutes, Daichi was sat next to Y/n, the giant frog on the ground next to the operator. Y/n looked up at Daichi, a grin on her face as she leaned into his side. 

She felt happy, warm, and safe. She felt it all the time, bubbling in her chest and fluttering in her stomach like butterflies. But she was tired, drained, and depleted. It took everything in her to not fall asleep on Daichi; it took all her energy to smile and giggle. She felt joy; she felt as if she were basking in a clear pool of nostalgia and warmth, but the irritation seemed to find a way into the pool to taint it. She felt nice, so why did she want to scream? Why did she want to cry and curse the world and everyone in it? 

You're so stupid, you're going to die, idiot, Y/n thought to herself, sinking further into Daichi's side, her gaze focused on the moon that began to rise. Was it really that late? The ride came to a halt, the carriage that Y/n and Daichi sat in stopping at the very top. Y/n looked over the side, gasping as she surveyed the park, eyes skimming over various stands and lights. 

Pretty. It was one of the few ways Daichi could describe the sight. The various colors of lights that bathed the park in shades on blue, green, red, and orange shone like a soft glow off of Y/n's s/c skin, reflecting on her cheeks like little ponds of light. Her eyes were open and round, mouth slightly agape. Pretty.

Y/n turned to look at Daichi, a wonder-filled grin on her face. Daichi smiled, his eyes tender. He leaned forward, one hand cupping her face, his thumb gently stroking the skin beneath it. Y/n relaxed under the touch, leaning into it. They stayed like that for a moment, Daichi stroking her cheek while she sat relaxed and still with closed eyes. And then Daichi was leaning in, pressing a warm and slow kiss to her lips. Y/n could feel the fire prickle underneath her skin, crawling to the tips of her toes and fingers. She could feel a buzz prance on her face, she could hear her blood rushing and heart beating. Daichi's hand dropped to her neck, giving it the lightest squeeze, his palms feeling like silk draped against her neck. 

Y/n pulled away, pupils blown and lips parted. She could feel Daichi's eyes studying her entire face, taking in every dip and angle, memorizing every beauty mark like they were constellations in the sky. Before she could steady her breathing, Daichi was dipping his head, pressing his lips to hers once again, gently nipping at her bottom lip before pulling away.

"Is this okay?" Daichi whispered, his eyes closed, lips closer to her jaw now than they were before. Y/n gulped, her gaze flitting down to Daichi before nodding. Daichi stayed still for a minute, relishing in the heat of her skin. Then before he could think, he was peppering kisses along her jaw, gently working his way down to her neck. Y/n gasped, body jolting when Daichi's lips brushed against her neck. Daichi chuckled, brushing the area with the tip of his nose, a smile sneaking onto his lips when he heard a giggle slip past Y/n's lips. 

Tenderly, he pressed a kiss to her neck. Nothing more, nothing less. He stayed still, the silent question hanging in the air. May I? He could feel the way her breaths became just the slightest bit sporadic, he could feel every jolt, hear every gasp and giggle. Could he? And then Y/n was holding his hand, giving it a soft squeeze. Daichi pressed one more kiss to the area before giving it a swift nip, quickly pressing his lips to it to soothe the soft nip of pain. Y/n giggled at the sensation, her laughter quickly being drowned by soft gasps as Daichi began to bruise the skin with his lips and teeth. Daichi pulled back, pressing one final kiss to the patch of skin before lifting his head to give Y/n a soft smile. 

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

Daichi had been scrolling through his phone, waiting for Y/n in the truck while she made a quick trip into the convenience store to pick up the meat buns they had bet on. She had insisted on going into the convenience store with her giant plushie, stating that it was because she was in love with it, and not because she wanted to show a friend of hers who just so worked there. It had been well over fifteen minutes before Y/n stepped into the car again, a sour look on her face and the bag with the meat buns in her hand. Daichi didn't even have to ask her what was wrong. As soon as she sat down she was going off about some lady in the store.

"She called me childish! Said I was probably irresponsible and then lectured me! Stupid lady, ruining my night." Y/n grumbled, giving Daichi his meat buns and leaving hers in the bag so she could drive. "You don't think I'm childish and irresponsible, right?" Y/n asked, her eyes focused on the road. Daichi stilled, his face shoved into the savory pork bun. He did not want to answer that. "Daichi?" As much as he loved her, even Daichi could admit she was a bit of a handful sometimes. She managed to get in trouble wherever she went, and there wasn't a day that went by where Daichi wasn't dragging her out of that mess. But Daichi adored it. Even if it meant getting in trouble with the neighbors and his parents. She was his constant reminder that life was meant to be lived. 

"I think you can be all those things and more, but it's charming," Daichi responded truthfully, chuckling when Y/n perked up in her seat. 

"Thanks, Dai," Y/n murmured, keeping her eyes on the road as to not make eye contact with Daichi.

"Meat bun?" Daichi offered, pulling one of the buns from the plastic bag, unwrapping it, and holding it to her lips.

"I prefer onigiri." Y/n teased, leaning forward to take a quick bite from the bun.

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

Bokuto leaned back on his palms, a soft smile on his face. Daichi sighed, his eyes focused on the hem of his coat. He wondered, what happened to her frog? 

"It's comforting to know she was happy those last few months," Kuroo admitted, his hands on his knees. Daichi looked up to see Bokuto and Kuroo gazing out at the sky, eyes focusing on the different clouds that billowed across the cold, grey skies. 

"It is, huh..." Daichi agreed, allowing himself to relax and smile. It was nice to think she had been happy. At least for a little bit.

[lifeofkaze]

An Art of Balance #9

Orion Amari x MC

 A/N: I swear @kc-needs-coffee I’m almost done borrowing KC, I just enjoy her so much xD

Warning: use of alcohol

 Word Count: ~ 2.600

______________________________________________________________ 

Chapter 9: A Knight in Shining Armour

Tired and beaten down, the Hufflepuff team trudged back towards the castle. It hadn’t taken the Ravenclaw seeker much longer to capture the Golden Snitch after KC’s Bludger had hit Lizzie. None of them was in the mood for much talking. Losing this match was a heavy blow to them.  

When they neared their Common Room, they could already make out the loud music and sound of chatter behind the narrow passage leading up to the entrance. Upon entering, they found themselves in the middle of a full-fledged post-match party taking place inside the round room. Their peers had set it up while they had been trying to wash off the pain of the loss. To the people of their House it didn’t matter if their team won or lost. They always found a reason to celebrate anyway.

Before long, Lizzie found herself chatting away with Penny and Tonks. The butterbeer in her hand spread a comfortable warmth from her stomach into the rest of her body, numbing the pain still throbbing inside her bruised shoulder.

Her foot was lightly tapping to the rhythm of the music that was blasting out of the enchanted speakers Face Paint Kid had mounted above the huge fireplace. They obscured the huge portrait of Helga Hufflepuff, who had retreated to a picture of her friend Rowena Ravenclaw near the Astronomy Tower. She couldn’t stand this ‘modern nonsense people called music nowadays’.

Lizzie had just downed the rest of her drink, when Penny nudged her and nodded inconspicuously towards one of the ledges that were protruding from the walls of the Common Room.

Skye was seated there all on her own, as had been her habit for the last weeks. She was nursing an empty mug in her hands and seemed to be brooding on something, deeply lost in thought.

“Someone should go talk to her,” Penny proposed softly. Lizzie contemplated passing on the task, but eventually her conscience got the better of her. She lifted her glass towards Penny and Tonks.

“I was going to get a refill anyway.”

She left her friends standing and made her way through the thick crowd towards the refreshment table, grabbing two fresh butterbeers before heading over to where Skye was sitting. She noticed people were giving the gloomy looking girl a wide berth and braced herself for being snapped at. But when Lizzie sat down next to her, she just accepted the drink Lizzie offered with a thankful smile.

The two of them were as used to fighting with each other as they were to making up again. There was no needs for many words or apologies. Lizzie held her mug out to Skye in a silent offer of reconciliation and Skye simply clanked hers against it before both took a deep swallow of the sweet liquid inside.

“Seems like Orion was right after all.”

Lizzie wasn’t looking at Skye as she spoke, rather staring at the bubbles rising up from the bottom of her glass. She was slowly swivelling it, watching the light from the fireplace illuminate the golden drink.

“This stupid quarrel likely cost us the match today. We can’t win if we don’t work together. It made getting our hands on the Cup just that more difficult.”

Skye chuckled wryly. “I’m always in for a challenge. How about you?”

Lizzie grinned back at her. “You know me.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a while before Skye spoke up again. “Just wish I could have shown Rath the ropes. We’ve lost more times to Ravenclaw than I care to admit.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” Lizzie sighed. “At least, KC and I can now talk to each other again like the civilised human beings we are.”  

Skye snorted. “Your choice of friends has always been questionable.” She was acting up this time, Lizzie could hear the teasing in her voice.

“That’s why I’m friends with you, I guess,” she shot back.

Both of them started giggling, all the tension that had built between them over the last weeks suddenly dissolving into fits of laughter. They were drawing wondrous glances from their peers.        

Calming down, Skye’s face suddenly grew serious again. “Sorry for what happened today. Shouldn’t have said all those things to Orion. Or you. Not a good move from me.”

“You should tell him that, not me.” Lizzie gave her a sideways glance. “I was a bit harsh to you as well. Sorry about that.”

Skye raised her mug. “Forgiven and forgotten. Glad we could solve this mess.”

Lizzie leaned closer to her. “Speaking of solving the mess…” She motioned to where Penny was standing with Tonks, watching them through the crowd. “You should go talk to her. You can’t hide from Penny forever; I’m sure you will find a way to work things out.”

Skye had suddenly gone pale, a pained expression showing on her face. “I don’t know, Jameson, you sure about this?”

Lizzie just shoved her off the ledge for an answer. Shooting another uncertain glance over her shoulder, Skye made her way towards Penny. With a relieved sigh, Lizzie leaned back against the cold stone wall, propping one foot up on the ledge before taking another sip. Finally things were starting to get normal again.

Her sitting alone didn’t go unnoticed, however. Within minutes she could spot Everett breaking from the crowd and heading towards her, fresh mugs of butterbeer in hand. Lizzie groaned inwardly. She wasn’t particularly keen on getting into a conversation with him. She didn’t mind her new teammate during practise, but Lizzie had started feeling uncomfortable with the way he had been looking at her recently.

Gulping down the remains of her drink, Lizzie tried to get up as fast as she could. But before she had a chance to escape into the mass of students, Everett had reached her and slid down onto the ledge next to her. He sat a little bit too close for Lizzie’s liking.

“What are you doing, sitting around as lonely? Fancy a drink?” He held the mug up for her to take.

Lizzie couldn’t think of a valid reason to refuse and gave in to her lot. “Sure, why not. Thanks.”

She awkwardly accepted the butterbeer, not quite knowing how to start a conversation with him. Her not being overly keen on it didn’t help either.

“You played well today,” she tried treading on safe ground. Nothing wrong with a little Quidditch talk.

“Not as good as you, though. You were fantastic!”

“Hmm,” Lizzie hummed in response. That was a flat out lie. Today had been one of the worst matches she had ever played. She had performed just as poorly as Skye and Orion had done, perhaps even worse.

Everett didn’t seem to sense her disagreement, however. “You were almost as good back when you played Beater. Crazy good aim. I could use a bit of improvement in that area.” He smiled mischievously at her. The uncomfortable feeling in Lizzie’s stomach increased.

“Maybe you could show me how, some time? So I can better protect you.”

Of course Lizzie knew he was referring to Quidditch, but somehow the way he was stressing ‘protect’, combined with her general discomfort around him, rubbed her the wrong way.

She bristled at him. “I don’t need any protection, let alone yours, thank you very much. I can perfectly handle myself,” she snapped indignantly.

Laughing, he raised his hands in defence. “Relax, kitty cat, no need to get all angry. Doesn’t suit your pretty face.”

“You want to be a better Beater? Here’s my tip for you: more practising, less flirting.” She set her drink down with a clank and got up. She had enough of his attitude for the evening.

But before she could make off, Everett had grabbed her wrist and pulled her down next to him again. Lizzie raised her eyebrows, her face anything but friendly.

Feeling the need to change tune with her, Everett ran his hand through his dark hair. “I’m sorry, don’t run away just yet,” he smiled apologetically.

Lizzie was still on edge, but her posture gradually softened again. She noticed he had pulled her down even closer to him than she had been before.

With a wink, Everett reached into the pocket of his jacket, pulling out a silver flask. The light of the fire place was reflected in it as he was brandishing it in front of her face. “What do you say? Let’s have a drink on peace?”

Her eyes followed the blinking flask as he poured a shot into his mug. Lizzie wasn’t one to object to a little extra punch when it came to her drinks but she really wasn’t interested in talking to Everett anymore, let alone drinking with him.

She shook her head. “No, I’ll pass. I’ve had plenty already. I don’t want to end up doing anything stupid,” she added lightly.

Everett’s smile grew wicked. “Like this for example?”

He quickly leaned forward, putting his hand against the stone wall next to her face, effectively blocking her means of escape. To her horror, he started leaning in to kiss her. It was all she could do to duck under his arm supporting his weight to get away. Coming so close to him, a familiar scent reached her nose, fresh and spicy at the same time. It made her hesitate for a split second.

She knew the scent, but it thoroughly confused her to smell it on him of all people. It reminded her of the component of the Amortentia she had had problems placing.

Using her hesitation to his advantage, Everett got up as well, grabbing her arm before she could dart away. Anger flashing in her eyes, Lizzie tried to yank herself free.

“Is there a problem?”

Orion had suddenly appeared next to them. He looked calm and collected as ever, but his posture was tense, the tone in his voice firm. Lizzie sent a quick prayer to the heavens for sending him along just now.

Everett didn’t seem as happy. “Nothing to see here, Amari,” he snarled, but his territorial demeanour didn’t so much as make Orion flinch.

“That is fortunate, because I am aware that McNully’s Kneazle is up in our dormitory, chewing away on your Transfiguration essay. I believe, it is due on Monday?”

The aggressiveness visibly drained out of Everett as he turned pale. “It took me three weeks to finish that assignment! I’m going to make a hat out of this fleabag!” He raced towards the round door at the far end of the Common Room and vanished behind it.

Lizzie’s brown furrowed in concern. “He’s not going to do anything to Kneil, is he?”

“Don’t worry, Kneil is somewhere in the castle, probably hunting his dinner,” Orion smirked in response. “To be honest, McNully saw Everett hitting on you and sent me to your rescue.”

“How gallant,” Lizzie giggled.

Orion wasn’t even trying to hide his grin. Instead, he nodded towards her arm. “How is your shoulder feeling?”

Lizzie shrugged it off with a laugh. “Better than Everett’s ego, I image.”

Her eyes followed the path he had taken through the crowd. “I wonder what’s been going on lately; Everyone seems to be out of their minds,” she mused.

Including her, apparently. She could still smell the lovely scent lingering in the air, just as strongly as it had been before. She fought the urge to inhale deeply.

Orion laughed lowly. “That’s how it goes. I remember my fifth year vividly. Between O.W.L.s and people getting interested in dating each other, it was… “ A mysterious smile played about his lips for a moment, amusement sparking in his eyes. “Let’s say it was a singular experience.”

Lizzie remembered what Rowan had told her about Orion having a history when it came to dating. She felt self-conscious invading his privacy like that, but her curiosity and the fair share of butterbeer she’d drunk by now got the better of her.

“So, did you get to do some?” she asked in what she hoped was a nonchalant tone.

Orion took a sip from his drink. “Did I get to do what?”

Lizzie felt herself blush, glad the light emanating from the roaring fire hid the changing colour of her face. “Dating, I mean. Did you get to go on some?”

One corner of Orion’s mouth quirked up, the mischievous sparkle in his dark eyes intensifying. His lopsided smirk gave him a totally different presence than what Lizzie was used to seeing on him. Despite herself, she found herself staring at his oddly compelling smile, quickly shaking out of it as soon as she realised.

“A bit here and there.”

He knew his ominous answer only intensified Lizzie’s curiosity. So before she could ask, he added “Nothing serious, mind you. No real commitment from both sides.”

Not satisfied at all by this vague answer, Lizzie blinked at him, now even more curious than before. It felt completely out of place discussing this topic with her Quidditch captain, but she just couldn’t resist.

“You never mentioned seeing anyone. Why did you never tell us about any of them, or bring them to one of our matches?”

He slightly shook his head, his face changing to a more thoughtful expression. “Nothing worthwhile ever came of it. And I don’t know whether I would’ve been able to balance both things at the same time. Being the team captain and just me.”

Somehow, Lizzie was not entirely sure they were still talking about the same thing they had in the beginning of their conversation. She had noticed the tinge of frustration creeping into Orion’s voice, however.

Before she could reply though, a hand snaked around her waist and Rowan appeared at her side. Lizzie let out a small gasp of pain as she rested her head on Lizzie’s injured shoulder, a girlish giggle escaping her mouth.

Although Rowan didn’t exactly dismiss alcoholic drinks as a whole, Lizzie knew her to be rather restrained when it came to drinking at parties, especially since she had been appointed prefect. It made seeing Rowan as drunk as she obviously was even stranger.

“Lizzie, there you are! I have been looking for you all over the place,” she shouted into Lizzie’s ear a lot louder than she had to. Lizzie tilted her head away from her to protect her eardrums from bursting.

“Skye has been looking for you, you should go find her,” Rowan explained, her voice slurry. She tried to talk matter-of-factly but the slight swaying as she stopped leaning on Lizzie for support vastly undermined her effort to appear sober.

Scanning the crowd, Lizzie could see Skye joking around with Tonks and Penny. Apparently, they had been able to calm the waves. It did not appear to her as if Skye was searching for anyone though, let alone her.

She started telling Rowan, but was silenced by the pointed look her friend gave her. Her eyes flickered to Orion for a moment, who was watching them patiently. The penny finally dropped on her.

“I’d better go and see what she wants then.” She winked at Orion, her hand resting on his arm for a moment. ”Thanks for being my knight in shining armour.”

She left the two of them standing, while she made her way towards her friends, the spicy scent that had shaken her earlier still hanging in the air.

[multific]

The Housekeeper (Part 2)

Part 1

Geralt x Reader

Modern!AU

Summary: You moved to the big city not too long ago. And you became the housekeeper to the handsome bachelor, Geralt Rivia. At first your relationship is purely professional, but what happens when you start developing feelings for him?

 You have been working for Geralt for the last two weeks. But you barely saw him, as he promised he wasn’t at home during the time you were there, you only saw him a few times when he arrived home and you were about to leave. You usually greeted him with a smile and left.

Since his home was huge, you usually spent a few hours at his place. You made sure to clean his house the most efficiently. You really enjoyed working for him, and being in such a nice place was a bonus.

But even such an amazing penthouse lacked warmth. There was nothing personal about its owner in it. The art on the walls were sure expensive but they looked like a collection rather than something Geralt would buy, at least to you. There were no pictures or books. Well besides the decoration books, but those didn’t count since he didn’t read them.

One evening, you took your extra time and washed his sheets.

“Oh, you’re still here.” you suddenly heard a voice behind you, it scared you so much it made you jump. “Sorry.”

“Mr Rivia, sorry. I’ll leave soon.”

“I’m sorry for scaring you. Did you have dinner yet?”

“Um, no.” you said placing the blanket and the pillows back on the bed.

“Okay. Let me order something for you as well. I would like to get to know the person that comes here almost every day.” he had a serious face but you smiled at his kind offer.

“Thank you, Sir. But I don’t want to bother you.”

“It’s not a bother.” you didn’t know what to say, you couldn’t argue with him. He was very serious, and to be honest, you wanted to know him as well.

Before you realized, there was an awkward silence between you two.

Geralt cleared his throat.

“I’d like to change.” he said gesturing to his suit.

“Oh, oh. Sorry.” you said while you left his room, blushing. Thankfully you remembered that you didn’t put the sheets on in the guest bedroom, so you went to do that. About fifteen minutes later, you heard his doorbell rang.

What kind of delivery gets here this early?

“Y/N, food is here.” you heard Geralt announce. You went to his kitchen and saw the food on his kitchen island.

“Thank you, you didn’t have to.”

“Please, the pleasure is mine. Which one would you like?” you chose the one that looked more appetizing for you before you both sat down at his table across from each other.

“So, would mind telling me a little bit about yourself? How did you end up in the housekeeping business?”

“Well, I moved here when I got into college. I wanted to be a pastry chef at first then a teacher. I got refused of so many jobs and rejected. My last chance was this before I had to move back to my parents’. I’m glad though, Marie is lovely and takes care of her employees. And I also like doing this. What about you, Sir? Marie told me that you own your company.”

“Yes, the company is a bit multi-purpose. We have teams that work with clothes others are in the make-up and skincare. I didn’t chose it. After my mother raised me alone, she started her own company and she left it to me.”

“Sorry to hear about your mother. At least this explains why you are always so well-dressed.”

“Hmm. And what did you study in college?”

“Tourism and hospitality. I got my degree in that field. And now I’m here.” the sigh you let out was long. And you immediately noticed that Geralt might misunderstand it. “I didn’t mean it like that! I’m really thankful for Marie and for you Mr Rivia for giving me a job.”

“Don’t sweat it, I understood completely.” there was a bit silence between the two of you. You were surprised you are able to talk to someone as good looking as Geralt. Usually you stuttered and blushed every second. Maybe it was the professional in you.

You finished with your food.

“Thank you so much for dinner, Sir.” you said as you were about to leave, since it was winter, you were putting your thick coat on yourself.

“No problem, see you in a few days.”

“Goodnight, Sir.”

“Goodnight.”

After you entered the elevator you let out a long sigh. After that day, you were certain, you had a crush on your new employer, great.

But who wouldn’t?

He was handsome, kind and although a bit quiet, he liked having conversations.

Now you knew what will come, you’ll continue crushing on the handsome rich man until he breaks your heart.

***

A whole week went by, and you started to see Geralt more and more. Whenever you were at his place and he arrived home, he’d ask you to eat with him. One time he said that this way he feels less alone and you understood since you were rather lonely yourself.

Your crush on him during those days only grew stronger. You found yourself getting lost in his gorgeous eyes. You really enjoyed his dry humour and how easily he made you laugh. As you started to learn more and more about him, he opened up and you were able to see a side of him that you liked to believe, no one else did.

Everything went well, until that say.

One day, you were running late with the things you needed to clean. You figured that Geralt might be busy with his job and that’s why he didn’t come back yet.

You were almost done with the bathroom when you heard the front door open. You heard someone coming in. Then there was a noise of something getting knocked over. You didn’t understand the situation, you slowly made your way to the door, quietly, since you assumed that it might be a burglar or something instead of Geralt. You really hoped that it wouldn’t be but you were prepared for any possibilities. 

However, you saw the last thing you ever wanted to see.

Geralt came home with a woman. She had gorgeous long blonde locks and she was skinny with long legs, you felt jealous. Her and Geralt was making out feverishly.

When Geralt’s necktie got thrown onto the ground, you knew you needed to leave. But as you walked backwards your back hit the wall which made the air in your lungs come out.

And they heard you, as both was now staring at you.

“Who’s she?” the woman asked with a disgusted expression.

“I-I-I’m leaving. Sorry to disturb you.” you didn’t even look at any of them as you grabbed your coat and ran out of the door.

You didn’t know what to do, you knew you shouldn’t have started developing feelings, yet there you were, heartbroken like a teenage girl over a stupid crush. You should have known better.

You promised yourself that you’d stop, and you’ll keep your relationship with him at a business level.

But why did it still hurt so much?

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 ~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

My taglist is open!

Feedback is greatly appreciated, so please take the time and tell me how you liked it. Thank You for reading my story!~

[aarcanechaoss]

☆ DAD!? BoYfRiEnD!? ☆

Kosuke was nervous, what could she say having her quite protective father meet her quite careless boyfriend... what could go wrong? She could only hope they would get along.

Osamu didn’t have nerves, worries yes but nerves he honestly thought being nervous was behind him until he realised he was meeting his partners father. He hoped whoever Mr Fukuzawa was he was nice and didn’t mind how excentric he would be. Mr Fukuzawa?

Yukichi wasn’t a stone cold man, protective yes but cold no. He would smile down at the picture of his daughter, he couldn’t call her little anymore she was only a few centimetres shy of being as tall as him but she was growing up fast.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

“Dazai stop dozing off and pay attention to the work on your desk.” Kunikida yelled as he slapped the dark haired man upside the head. Dazai fell forward and smacked his head against his desk.

“Uh Dazai?” Atsushi said worriedly.

“What is it when your chest feels on fire and your stomach fills with butterflies?” Dazai asks.

“Are you sick?” Kenji calls out- Yosano turns to him with an evil glint.

“No just... I’m meeting Ko’s father tonight.”

“Oh you are? Have you never met him before?” Naomi calls out. “Also can we meet her at some point?”

“Nope. Like I said meeting him tonight.” Dazai sighed. “Uh maybe.”

“What about her mother?” Junichiro tilts his head.

“It’s just her and her dad she doesn’t know her mother... before Kunikida opens his mouth yes I have been dating her for nearly a year and not yet met him- we are both busy but I’m meeting him tonight.... I guess I’m nervous.”

“Dazai.. nervous?” Atsushi muttered.

Suddenly the brunette stood and smiled.

“Time to go- Ko wants me home early.” Dazai smiles. “Will let you all know how it goes.”

“Please do!” Some one called out.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

“President!” Kunikida yelled as the silver haired man stepped through the door.

“I will be on my way out finish any work needed and head home.” He smiled.

“Yes sir. It’s just paperwork and everything should be done as soon as possible.” Kunikida answered.

“Good to here. Have a good evening I have a young man to go scare.” The president let out a deep chuckle.

“Pardon President?” Junichiro asked.

“Oh my daughter, I’m meeting her boyfriend- goodbye everyone.” Fukuzawa laughed again as he left.

“The president has a daughter!?” Naomi called out, Kunikida stood with his jaw dropped.

“The president has daughter and Dazai has a girlfriend.” Atsushi mused... his eyes widened. “Hey guys-“

“Yeah?” The detectives responded.

“Is there a small chance Ko is the president’s daughter and dating Dazai... Dazai is meeting her father and the president is meeting his daughters boyfriend?” Atsushi pondered. The room fell deadly quiet leaving only the sound of Ranpo eating his snacks. “Ranpo?”

“The president’s daughter is named Kosuke.” Is what he says. “She’s a mirror image of her father- I met her when the agency was forming.”

The agency fell silent again with only one question in mind- if it’s true will Dazai live to see tomorrow?

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

“Kosuke.” Dazai pouted and dug his face further into the silver haired woman’s neck.

“Yes Osamu?” She hummed.

“I want attention.” He whined.

“My love when don’t you want attention?” She giggled. Dazai’s arms tightened around her waist pulling her back flush against his chest. She giggled again and gave his arm a pat as she continued to finish setting up dinner.

“Yeah but you are so focused on your dinner and stuff that I haven’t even gotten a kiss yet.” She placed the last of the cutlery on the table and spun in her lovers arms, her own wrapping around his neck as they nuzzled noses.

“Still want a kiss from me?”

“Always.” He breathed pressing his lips against hers, leading her towards a wall. Their lips fit together perfectly, his hands fit perfectly with her own it was like her body was half of his to create a perfect whole- he loved her he truely did.

“That’s enough love.” He pouted as he rested his forehead against hers. “Go get cleaned up dad should be here soon.”

“But Ko..”

“If you do well with dad I’ll give you a special present later.” She winked and off he went excited and merry. She laughed and shook her head.

A knock sounded at the door- her father was here. The door swung open to show a silver haired man, his metallic eyes glimmering in the harsh light of her apartment- she really was a mirror image of her father.

“Dad!” She exclaimed wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

“Sunflower how are you?” He grinned.

“I’m great.”

“Where is the boyfriend?”

“Osamu dad is here!” She called out. “Sorry he was just in the bathroom washing up.” Kosuke let her father inside and ducked behind him to shut and lock the door.

Osamu? The president raised a brow at the name, now wouldn’t that be funny if~

“President!” A familiar voice started Yukichi from his thoughts and at first he was shocked- why was Dazai in his daughters apartment... oh... OH.

“Dazai?”

Dazai on the other hand his mind was racing Fukuzawa that name should have clicked much... much earlier in the relationship than it did. Yukichi’s eyes widened at Dazai’s appearance, he had on his usual outfit without his trench coat and most importantly without his bandages for his eyes to notice many many marks... he was comfortable in this apartment.

Kosuke turned to see her father and boyfriend in a confused-frightened-worried-nervous stare down. Then it clicked.

“Oh shit Osamu why didn’t you tell me you worked for my dad?”

“Why didn’t you tell me your dad was my boss?”

“Why did neither of you tell me you were dating specifically.” Yukichi pinched the bridge of his nose.

“How about we sit down and eat before the food gets cold okay?” Kosuke’s voice raised in pitch as she asked. They all sat at the table and slowly began to dig in.... shit it was awkward.

“So dad.” He hummed. “How was your day?”

“My day was good. Not much to do though mostly drank tea, looked over new assignments and signed paper work though I did see a fluffy cat outside the apartment.” Yukichi said fondly.

“Oh that’s Mrs Nakamoto’s cat Whisky... yah I made the same face dad.” Kosuke laughed trying to ease the tension. “I’m going to be adopting that cat we were talking about Osamu. I finally got the paperwork through.”

“We can officially get Bella.” Dazai’s eyes widened- Yukichi watched Kosuke fondly whilst offering tiny glares towards Dazai but more or less he was happy for them.

“You should get a second one later and name it Donna.” Yukichi said seriously. Kosuke snorted and began laughing so hard her stomach hurt. Osamu laughed quietly. “Now... May I say something serious~ I have to say something fatherly now don’t I?” He smiled.

Osamu gulped. He just had big flashing lights in his mind screaming ‘He will kill you! You are dead! RIP Osamu Dazai didn’t even get to make Kosuke, Kosuke Dazai’ - not that that was going to happen for at least another year.

“I don’t expect you to drop formalities with me at work Dazai but since Kosuke is clearly happy with you I cannot refute or disagree even if I did disapprove.” Kosuke’s eyes widen, “Don’t worry I don’t. He’s careless yes but you both clearly care for each other. I’m still your boss but I’m also your partners father so I give you permission to drop formalities you may call me Yukichi instead of President or Mr Fukuzawa.”

“Thank-you pres- Yukichi. I think it’s safe to say Osamu is fine for you to address me as. I won’t hurt her ever never intentionally and hopefully never unintentionally either. I love her.. I love you Ko.” Dazai held his hand out across the table for the older man to shake. “This is a little awkward I will say that no offence is to be made but Ko you are near identical to your father.”

Kosuke started laughing again and nodded.

“Yeah we get that a lot.” Yukichi’s eyes were drawn towards his daughters neck- he hadn’t noticed earlier but she didn’t have her bandage on around her neck- she truely trusts and loves Osamu Dazai and that’s good enough for him.... but if dead Uncle Mori found out, hmm.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

The next day Dazai had stumbled into work tired, disheveled and kind of dopey. His shirt was messy and the bags under his eyes indicated a strong strong lack of sleep.

“Is Dazai okay?” Haruno asked after watching the man stumble around for a few hours now.

“Hmm? Yes I’m fine.”

“Damn was her old man that scary?” Kunikida laughed.

“Oh no we got along quite well after a few minutes of awkwardness.” Dazai perked up and fixed his shirt, leaving his hair a tangled mess. “I just got a present for being good is all.” He winked.

“What is her dad like?”

“Uh well-“

“Osamu.” Yukichi smiled as he entered the angency office. The agents looked to the pair in question- is Dazai in trouble why did the president use his first name? Where they right about him and the president?

“Oh more Yukichi- President sorry.”

“It’s fine. Ranpo my daughter will be dropping off those sweets you asked for.” The president said.

“Yay Kosuke!”

“Speak of the devil and I shall appear.” The woman who walked in- Ranpo wasn’t kidding when he said she looked like the president.

“Hey Koko.” The Great Detective calked our as she handed him his box of sweets.

“I thought I was going to be late but I arrived as the shop opened so I just zoomed over. Hi everyone I’m Kosuke Fukuzawa.” The woman had a nice rich voice and a pleasant smile.

“Ko.” Dazai grinned and jumped towards her. “You were gone when I woke up.”

“You pout like a small child love.”

Beat

“EH! Love!” The agents yelled.

“Yeah this is my girlfriend.” Dazai’s shit eating grin was evident and sent the other agents into a spin. Ranpo, Yukichi, Kosuke and Osamu began to laugh.

“Your coworkers are strange.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.” Yukichi gave Kosuke a pat on the head before walking to his office. “Goodbye.”