#i am absolutely buried under my stress and it has been so hard admitting that i am only making it worse by stubbornly holding onto denial

[trashbaget]

making big decisions is so difficult

[spidercakes]

A/B/O somnophilia AU in which alpha!Tony absolutely rails omega!Peter.

Warnings: age difference (Peter is in his early 20′s and Tony is in his late 30′3/ early 40′s- imagine whatever you like lol), dub con (somnophilia), rough sex, A/B/O, Very Strong Dom/sub vibes, fem!Peter.

*

Tony wakes up with Peter curled up in front of him, his back against Tony’s chest. In his sleep he’d leaned in, face buried in the crook of Peter’s neck where it connects with his shoulder and he kisses it lightly as he stretches out some, careful not to disturb Peter. The dorm room bed is awful, but its exam week and Peter is sort of tethered to campus at the moment, and Tony’s not an ass, its not like he’ll die in this bed. He’ll just feel like he wants to in the morning.

Peter makes a soft noise in his sleep, wiggling his ass directly into Tony’s dick. He chokes on his gasp, hand grabbing Peter’s hip as he presses his forehead to Peter’s bare shoulder, exposed by his shirt slipping down. It wouldn’t be so bad, he thinks, if not for the fact that Peter had admitted, rather shyly, that he’s always been curious about sleep sex and Tony never would have guessed that Peter would share that particular kink. To be fair Peter seemed surprised that he was so into it, but somnophilia happens to be at the top of the list of things he’s into.

Its more of a bad habit he’s developed, sliding his hand up Peter’s thigh and under the too big sleep shirt he’s wearing, but this is the first time he’s found what he was looking for. He moans softly into Peter’s shoulder, considering the possibility that this is some kind of fluke, but they’ve discussed it before. Several times. But then its Peter’s normal habit to sleep without underwear anyway, the fact that he’s slept with them on is weird and- he’s overthinking it. Peter isn’t stupid, and he might be stressed but he’s never really been forgetful- he highly doubts Peter just forgot the time he’d mentioned the easiest consent mechanism for somnophilia. Underwear, no. No underwear, yes.

“Fuck,” he whispers, kissing Peter’s shoulder, continuing his path until his teeth are grazing his neck. Peter makes another small, soft noise in his sleep and Tony can feel his cock twitch, getting hard fast now that he knows what Peter is offering. “Bet you’re already wet for me,” Tony murmurs, reaching down and feeling himself through his flannel pajama pants for a moment before he reaches out and slides Peter’s shirt up over his hips. His ass is gorgeous, and when Tony shifts Peter’s leg to the side to give him better access to his hole Peter cooperates, moving a little and resettling himself with one leg hitched up, hips and ass still pointed in Tony’s direction.

So fucking perfect, just like always. He slides his hand over Peter’s ass, gripping one cheek and spreading him open, cock twitching again when he finds exactly what he thought it would. He lets go of Peter’s ass, leaning in and scenting him as he grabs his hip, rutting his mostly hard cock along his ass and moaning when he smells how fucking hot Peter must be for it. Arousal is practically falling off him in waves, even asleep, and Tony can’t hold back anymore. He doesn’t bother taking his pants off, he just pulls the waistband under his cock and balls before leaning back in and rubbing himself against Peter without anything in the way.

Peter, ever so cooperative, tilts his hips back into Tony’s. He laughs softly, “that’s right baby, give me that pretty little hole,” he murmurs, feeling at Peter’s wet hole for a moment before he pulls back to jerk himself off. Peter looks fucking delicious laid out in front of him, horny and wet for Tony and he isn’t even awake. The small, desperate noise he lets out as rubs his cock between Peter’s cheeks, catching the rim of his wet hole really can’t be helped. He feels so fucking good against Tony’s cock, slick already starting to get messy as Tony   uses his cock to play with Peter’s hole.

It sucks his head in greedily, gripping him tightly and Tony lets out a choked moan as he pulls himself back out, rubbing his cock against Peter’s hole for a moment before sliding back in. His moan is louder this time, nose buried in Peter’s neck as he scents him, sliding himself in deeper as he begins to move slowly at first, but his patience doesn’t last very long. He’s wanted Peter to let him do this since the moment they met, and he brought it up over a month ago. Its been fucking torture knowing Peter wants this as much as he does, and he can’t help the way he buries himself inside Peter.

The sound of Peter’s slick makes him harder as he moves, grabbing Peter’s hip as he settles himself between his legs, pinning him down as he fucks into him enthusiastically. It doesn’t take long for Peter to wake up moaning, hand flying back and settling over Tony’s on his hip as he grinds his ass back onto his cock. “That’s it baby, show me how much you like my cock,” Tony tells him roughly, teeth harshly biting at Peter’s neck.

“Fuck,” Peter all but yells, back arching as he grinds himself back onto Tony again, wiggling his ass as he pants loudly. “Oh my god Tony please,” he says desperately, gasping as Tony pulls his hand out from under Peter’s, grabbing his wrist and pinning it above his head.

“Fucking take it,” Tony basically growls, “you make my cock feel so fucking good,” he adds, biting at Peter’s shoulder roughly. 

The sharp yelp Peter lets out as his hips involuntarily tip up to take Tony in further encourages him, grip on Peter’s wrist tight as he takes what he wants. Peter is so good, so fucking good as Tony fucks him hard and rough, bed shaking enough that Tony might wonder about its structural integrity if he were in the right state of mind.

“Please, Tony,” Peter begs, voice high and desperate with arousal, moaning loudly when Tony lets go of his wrist and wraps his hand around the back of Peter’s neck instead, pushing him hard into the mattress as he fucks into Peter deep. Tony watches his cock move in and out of Peter’s hole, slick dripping down his thighs he’s so wet and he knows he has to knot him.

He smacks Peter’s ass hard with his free hand, moaning as potent scent of horny omega drives him closer to the edge. “Gunna knot that pretty little ass of yours, make sure you know who owns it,” he tells Peter, fucking into him fast.

“Yes,” Peter breathes out softly, “need it Tony, please,” he adds between all these hot little noises he keeps making.

“Mmm not gunna last much longer, sluttly little hole is so god damn tight on me baby, make me want you so fucking bad,” Tony tells him, leaning in and biting at Peter’s shoulder before resting his head against it as he pumps himself in and out of Peter’s hole, mouth dropped open in pleasure because this might be the best Peter has ever felt.

The way Peter feels when he wiggles underneath him is divine, “oh my god I’m cumming, I’m cumming Tony ah-” Peter’s voice is muffled due to being pressed into his pillow and Tony can fucking hold back knowing Peter came on nothing but his cock.

“Fuck yes, baby, s’what you’re fucking made for,” Tony tells him, knot swelling in Peter’s ass, helped along by Peter grinding back onto it panting like he can’t get enough even after cumming. It takes a few minutes of him rocking gently into Peter for him to calm down enough to let Peter up, scenting at his neck immediately and making a pleased noise when Peter immediately tilts his head to the side for him. 

“Mm, thanks,” Peter murmurs, moaning softly as Tony’s teeth graze his neck.

Tony laughs, nipping at Peter’s neck again just because it feels so damn good when Peter’s muscles clench down on his knot, “my pleasure.” Like it’s a hardship to fuck Peter on the best of days let alone when he’s been handed his favorite kink on a platter. As a reward he sucks lightly at the sensitive skin on Peter’s neck, biting at the spot before sucking at it again, intent on leaving a mark.

The soft noises Peter makes as Tony continues to stuck marks into his skin encourage him, making him moan as he rocks into Peter. The knock on the door, however, does not.

*

He sits with his head in his hand, embarrassed. “I can’t believe i had the campus cops called on me,” Tony says.

Rhodey doesn’t even look up from his newspaper, flipping the page casually even though Tony damn well knows he’s not reading it. He’s just a dramatic bitch. “That’s what you get for cradle robbing,” he says, shrugging.

He sputters, betrayed by Rhodey so he turns to Nat, who grins. “I don’t feel bad for you either but only because its funny,” she says.

“Someone thought I assaulted Peter, that is so not funny,” he tells her. In their defense, when he’d played that back over without knowledge of what was going on he guesses that whole thing did sound pretty suspect but still.

He looks to Pepper, his last resort and he knows he’s going to get dropped on his ass but he’s still got hope. “Don’t even,” Rhodey tells him, still not looking up from the paper he isn’t reading. “She has common sense so she’s on my side.”

Tony turns back to Pepper, who pauses long enough for Rhodey to look up at her, giving her a suspicious look. “To be fair, Tony and I had that happen once when we were together and it was awful I’m so sorry you managed to do that twice,” Pepper tells him.

Vindicated he stands up, “ha!” he says to Rhodey, who is staring between him and Pepper like he’s just been told that they’re aliens, and they know because bees.

“Wait, what the fuck am I missing you two had what happen to you?” he asks.

“To be fair,” Tony says, “i completely forgot about the time I got the campus cops called on me with Pepper.”

[dazz-linglight]

Hello! Can I request a sub!Jay imagine about him having an oral fixation but is sort of embarrassed to tell the reader about it, so he just sticks to sucking on his own fingers and other stuff? When the reader and him got into a relationship she always saw him sucking on everything, and it really turned her on. While they’re having sex she mentions it and he admits he’s always wanted to suck on the reader’s body, and after that his mouth is always attached to her breasts or fingers

(I love this 👉👈 thank you for the request!)

You noticed from before you started dating Jay how he keeps putting anything possible in his mouth. Pens, pencils, his fingers, chopsticks, candy. It’s distracting the way he wraps his pretty lips around something and sucks on it. It’s somewhat sensual and you can’t help but get turned on.

You thought it was a stress thing, but he always has the urge to occupy his mouth. When you accepted to go out with him you found cute when he kissed the back of your hand as a greeting. He always notice when you change your nail polish. He took you to an ice cream date once, your ice cream started melting a little and dripped to your finger, before you could get a napkin Jay held your finger up and licked it clean.

He’s been having dirty thoughts lately and it makes him embarrassed, but he can’t stop thinking about having his mouth on your body. When he closes his eyes he can only think about sucking your fingers. When you meet him at school he smooches the corner of your lips casually and when you're alone he loves a good, long making out session. Every time you style your hair up he wants to suck and kiss hickeys into your skin.

Now, you can hear the rain pattering against the bedroom window, your boyfriend groans and dives deeper under the covers, burying his face into your warm chest.

"Are you awake?" You asks softly, caressing his hair into place and he grunts in response.

"My baby must be tired, you've been napping for over an hour."

"I definitely am." He sighs confirming your observation. "It's finally weekend and I have the chance to do nothing, so that's what I'm gonna do."

"Fair point." You chuckle, hands trailing lower and grazing Jay's back and waistband, causing him to shudder and hook his leg between yours. His thick, muscled thigh feels a little too good and now you can feel something else too.

"Hey."

"Hmm?"

"Are you hard?"

"Maybe." He mumbles out even though his body is clearly very awake. You scratch his back slightly and watch him squirm until he reaches out to take your hand off and bring it up to his lips, kissing your fingers. After that he got quiet, keeping your hand on his cheek.

"Earth to Jay?"

"Huh? Sorry, I got distracted."

"Do you need something on your mouth?"

“You’ve noticed?”

“Kind of hard not to, I’ve seen the way you look at my fingers..” His face flushed bright red.

“I-I didn’t mean to.. It was a coincidence.”

“Really? You weren’t thinking about sucking on my fingers?" You quizz with fake simpathy in your tone and expose your hand right in front his eyes in a playful manner.

"Can I?" This is like a dream come true for him.

"Of course, my love." You trace his lips lightly and close the distance to kiss him. He let out a groan sucks on your tongue for as long as he can before you have to break away to breath properly and takes the chance to go down, spreading kisses on your neck and collarbones and lifted your hoodie to bite and suck on your nipples until they were glistening, swollen and sore from the constant attention. He absolutely adores the squishiness and the feeling of having you in his mouth.

You lift your hips to get rid of your shorts and underwear to quickly change positions to ride him and press his length in, filling you up nice and slow. Once he's fully sheathed, he pulls you in to leave marks all over your neck. You start rocking your hips in a languid pace, reaching to wrap a hand around his neck and the other coming up to insert two fingers on his mouth. You sit up to move faster and stare at his dazed expression, warm tongue caressing your digits in such a sensual way while also massaging your insides with his cock. He could go on for hours like this, satisfying both of your needs to the sound of the rain. You admire his flushed face, giving a gentle squeeze to his neck.

“Aww baby.” you coo at him and it’s enough to make him babble in embarrassment, coating your fingers in saliva and you giggle at his flustered state. "You look so cute under me."

You find a good rhythm to grind down on him, feeling him deep and deliciously until you reach your first high, getting your whole body electrified for a few seconds. Riding it out, you hear Jay whine and suddenly feel a surge of energy to keep rocking back and forth to make him release. You let go of his neck and hear him getting louder, calling you by your pet name half demanding and half begging you to continue. To gain a bigger reaction, you bounce and grind harder, fluttery breaths filling the room. It feels too good to stop now.

You smile in victory as he bucks his hips into you do hard that makes you lose balance and fall against his chest. Between panting and whining your name, he thrusts up into you to milk every last bit of energy and cum out of himself. At last you both release together, fingers into your hips as he fills you with an exhausted moan and thrust. You collapse, whimpering and shaking from the heavy, overstimulated finish. After recovering your breathings, Jay brings your face up for a fond kiss.

After that day, it turned into a normal occurrence to Jay have some part of you in his mouth, sometimes not even sexually. It helped him relax after a long day of work and you were happy to help whenever he needed.

[seijorhi]

Acts of Devotion

👀 i um 👉 👈 i hope this is okay...

Akaashi Keiji x Female Reader

TW blood, gore, violence, murder, dub con, nsfw

Akaashi loves you.

He’s known that for a long time now, probably from the very first moment he laid eyes on you, back when you were both just wide eyed first year uni students, wildly out of your depths.

A lot’s changed since then. For one, he now gets to call you his, and it’s his arms that you return to at the end of a long day, his house that you both live in. It’d be a lie to say that it doesn’t bother him that he wasn’t your first love, but he’s contented himself with the knowledge that he’ll be your last. Your only great love.

The only one that matters.

But it hasn’t been without its challenges. He’s learned a lot about love since those early days, about what it means to truly devote yourself to somebody, to give everything you have for them.

Love essentially boils down to two things, Akaashi’s come to realise - sacrifice, and forgiveness. 

You always look so beautiful when you’re sleeping. Of course, Akaashi thinks you’re beautiful all the time; when you’re smiling and laughing, when your face is screwed up in petulant anger, when those pretty eyes of yours well with tears and they glimmer and shine - but there’s something about the peaceful expression, so soft and unguarded when you’re asleep that inexplicably draws him in. 

There’s a part of him that wants nothing more than to stay, to reach out and brush away the hair that’s fallen across your face, pull you closer and let sleep drag him under, but he can’t. 

Not tonight.

Instead he cranes his neck to press a kiss against your lips, a small smile tugging at his lips when you let out a quiet mewl in response. He loves you so, so much… that’s why he has to do this.

He’d forgive you anything. You know that, don’t you?

Sure, it hurt him when he found the messages. Scrolling back through your text history, it was like somebody had grabbed him by the throat and plunged a knife into his gut, twisting it for good measure.

Kaito i don’t know what to do

i love him but lately it feels like idk he’s being a little controlling i guess? 

… but maybe i’m just being paranoid?

He knows it’s not entirely your fault. For all the amazing qualities you possess, you are remarkably naive and so very, very impressionable - which worked to his favour in the beginning, he’ll be the first to admit, but now…

Now it’s becoming a problem.

You haven’t realised yet that everything Akaashi’s doing - it’s all for your own good. 

Your family wanted you under their thumb. They always asked too much of you, guilt tripped you whenever you tried to stand up for yourself or set boundaries. They’d never be happy for you, not truly. It hurts, he knows that, but some people don’t deserve to be in your life, especially when they treat you like that. 

Your job was causing you stress, and your boss was an arrogant, nasty piece of work. His salary is more than enough to support you both, why put yourself through that if you don’t need to? Aren’t you happier now that you don’t have to trudge into that office every day and pretend that it isn’t making you miserable?

Your friends were bad influences. Jealous of your relationship for one, but they were also petty, self absorbed and vapid, always trying to drag you down to their level so you wouldn’t ever outshine them. You’re better off without them, why can’t you see that?

Akaashi’s the only one you’ll ever need.

And he really thought that he’d solved that little problem, but apparently not. He supposes he shouldn’t be surprised that out of all of them, Kaito’s the one who’s been the hardest to shake. An old friend of yours from high school, Akaashi had known within five minutes of meeting him that he was head over heels in love with you and had been for a long, long time. 

He can’t blame him for that. You’re beautiful. Perfect. Entirely his. It’s painfully obvious that even before he came into the picture to sweep you off your feet, you’d never so much as looked twice at the guy. So Akaashi was more or less content to let his somewhat pitiful one sided crush on you slide. Considering that he had absolutely no intentions of letting him or any of your other friends remain part of your life for much longer, it was hardly worth wasting energy thinking about.

Until, that is, he read the messages that Kaito’s been sending you.

Leave him

I’m serious. 

My sister had a friend who was with a guy like that. She had to get a restraining order because he wouldn’t let her go - it got scary… You can come stay with me. I don’t want you getting hurt :(

It’s that last one that bothers him. Not the attempts to lure you away from him under the guise of being a safe haven from your ‘dangerous’ boyfriend, painting himself as your knight in shining armour - mildly irritating if not a little amusing - but for putting the idea in your head that Akaashi would ever hurt you.

That he can’t forgive.

He won’t have you look at him with fear in your eyes. 

Akaashi’s never tried to deny that side of himself, but he’s kept it from you, locked it away and buried it deep. The things he does… you’re too pure for that. He loves you, loves the way that your eyes still soften when you catch sight of him, the warm, trusting naivety that bleeds out of your every pore. If you knew what the hands that caressed you so gently had done, would you still beg for his touch?

You wouldn’t, he knows that just as he knows that even if you were to uncover the truth, he wouldn’t let you go. He can’t, you’re his.

Is it really so selfish of him to want to preserve that innocent naivety? 

But it seems like now he’ll have to indulge once again, and Akaashi, really, truly can’t say that it bothers him. Killing other people has always thrilled him, made the blood in his veins race… Killing other people for you, oh, that’s going to be a whole other level of pleasure he can’t wait to explore. 

The pads of his fingers trace the curve of your jaw for just a moment. “Back soon,” he whispers, gracing your cheek with a feather light kiss.

You’ve never asked why the door to the basement locks from both sides, he doesn’t even think you realise that the walls are soundproofed. Tonight he’s grateful. You won’t wake up, he’s almost positive of that, but Akaashi has no desire to be gone from your side for any longer than absolutely necessary.

He usually prefers to take his time. 

His first kill was more of an accident than anything else, there was too much blood, he panicked and it was over in the blink of an eye. There wasn’t time to savour it, to really enjoy the sight of the light leaving their eyes, the weak, desperate struggles and whimpers, the tantalising fear that inevitably bleeds into the air, growing more potent by the second - even the strongest break eventually. He’s learned since then how to draw it out, how to have fun with his work.

But he doesn’t have that luxury tonight, and, as he keeps having to remind himself, this isn’t about his pleasure.

Guns are quick. Messy. Akaashi’s never really taken a liking to the crude, graceless weapon. He prefers his knives. 

Waving a gun in somebody’s face gives them the idea that they’re going to die, and there are only so many times that you can shoot somebody before they just… bleed out. It’s not nearly as satisfying a death. A knife, on the other hand, brings with it more opportunities. It isn’t death that his victim becomes worried about, at least not initially, but pain. And as his hand glides over his collection, Akaashi decides that Kaito is due for a little pain.

I love him, you’d texted. I love him. I love him. I love him.

That’s what he’s trying to protect. 

Long, pale fingers wrap around the handle of his chef’s knife, (eight inches, sharp - a familiar, comforting weight in his hand) and he takes a deep, steadying breath.

Kaito’s mouth is taped shut. Akaashi doesn’t want to hear a filthy word out of those lips. His hands are bound behind his back, his ankles tied to the old, wooden chair. He’s good with his knots, the more Kaito struggles, the tighter they pull. And judging from the ugly, purpling shade of his hands and the tears leaking from bloodshot eyes, he’s been struggling for a while.

Good.

Akaashi smiles as he strolls towards his captive audience, fingering the straight edge of the knife. Kaito doesn’t try to speak, but the muffled whines and sobs grow louder with every step closed between them. The fear and tension in the air is palpable. 

His breath is little more than a frantic wheezing by the time Akaashi stops in front of him and drops into a crouch. Cool, gunmetal blue eyes meet Kaito’s deep brown ones, blown wide with terror.

“I’m not the monster you think I am,” he admits quietly. 

Looking up at him from beneath long, dark lashes, a faint smile on his lips, Akaashi could almost pass for an angel if not for the gleaming kitchen knife in his hand. Kaito pales, his entire body going taut as his gaze slides from Akaashi’s face to the gleaming blade in his hand. He shakes his head in desperation, another muffled scream escaping his gag-

Akaashi strikes fast, like a viper. The blade plunges into the meat of Kaito’s thigh and without an ounce of mercy, Akaashi yanks it back towards his knee.

The scream that rips through the air sends a pleasurable shiver of warmth down his spine, and his tongue darts out to wet his lips as he feels the muscles beneath him convulse. The gash isn’t too long, maybe a few inches, but it’s deep and Akaashi’s smirk only grows as warm blood gushes from the wound, coating his hand in slick vermilion. 

He tugs the knife free, rewarded with another choked howl from his captive as more blood sprays. Bound to the chair, there’s not a whole lot of room for Kaito to move, but it’s somewhat amusing to watch him try to thrash, escape the white hot agony radiating from his thigh through his entire body. It’s hard for the human body to comprehend that level of pain, and from experience, Akaashi’s well aware that it won’t take long for his body to go into shock and simply shut down from the blood loss, and once that happens, he won’t be of much use to anyone. 

Kaito’s trembling, face pale, his skin clammy. Impossibly black pupils swallow his irises whole, erratically tracking his captor’s every movement as Akaashi pushes himself to his feet and takes a moment to study him. Tears and bubbles of snot leak in a disgusting mix down his jaw, dripping onto his lap as he sobs against his bindings. It’s pitiful, seeing a man reduced to a whimpering, terrified wreck, but as the hand still holding his knife grips at his chin and yanks his face closer, Akaashi can’t help but gleefully drink it all in. 

Your would be knight in shining armour doesn’t look quite so strong and capable now, does he?

Akaashi doesn’t have much time left to make him suffer, but he can’t seem to resist trailing his fingers along Kaito’s injured leg, digging them deep into the ruined muscle - grinning wildly when he convulses and screams, arching up off the chair. 

There’s still so much that he’d like to do. He toys with the idea of taking his tongue, of carving his knife deep into his skin just to watch him whimper and bleed… but no. This isn’t about indulgence. This is about you. He has to have more discipline than that.

Dangling on the edge of consciousness, Kaito meets his gaze one last time. Maybe he senses that his death is close, or maybe he’s just searching for a last minute reprieve, mercy from the cold blooded killer before him. Terrified, agonised, delirious from the blood loss, he tries to speak - a plea, he thinks, or maybe just incomprehensible babbling, but his eyes burn into Akaashi’s, desperate and hollow.

Akaashi’s never been one for theatrics. He won’t waste more time monologuing while your friend clings to the last vestiges of life. If Kaito hasn’t guessed by now the reasons he’s ended up here, at Akaashi’s mercy, he’s far less intelligent than he gave him credit for, but he supposes that he owes him something, at least. 

“I love her,” he says with a small shrug, as if it explains everything.

And maybe it does. 

It hardly matters though, as Akaashi decides to finally end it with a vicious slice across his throat. Blood sprays like a fountain, splattering across the room and drenching him, Kaito’s body slumps in his seat, the last flicker of life slowly snuffing out, and Akaashi revels in the pure, sweet euphoria that floods his system.

He’s never killed anybody while you were home with him before. Normally he’s methodical, quick to clean up whatever mess is left behind. Tonight though, Akaashi doesn’t have the patience for all that.

He should at least take a shower, rid himself of the blood that soaked him to the skin, but the call of your arms, the sweet, soft floral scent he longs to drown himself in beckoning is too hard to resist. He sheds his clothes, casting them aside haphazardly along with the bloody knife as he stalks down the hallway to the bedroom. His heart is still racing, excitement drumming through his veins as he crawls onto the bed and slides the covers off of you.

Dimly, he registers that this is a monumentally bad idea, but all he can think about is the vivid memory of the light leaving Kaito’s eyes and you. Tonight, he killed for you, and it was exhilarating.

He doesn’t think he could stop himself even if he wanted to, and why would he want to?

You’re perfect, beautiful - his. Nothing and nobody will ever be able to separate the two of you, he’ll kill anybody who tries. 

You stir a little as Akaashi’s lips graze along your skin, his fingers sliding the silk of your nightgown up over your hips.

“‘Kaashi?” you sleepily murmur, trying to blink heavy eyelids open.

He wonders if you can feel the way his bloodstained hands are trembling as they ease your supple thighs apart. “Shh, baby,” he presses a kiss against your leg as he manoeuvres himself between them, “It’s okay, go back to sleep.”

Let me take care of you. 

He needs this.

[wanderinginksplot]

Platonic fluff, I and anyone from the bad batch?

Thank you so much for making this request! This is the ask that made me realize that I haven’t really written for anyone except Tech and Wrecker. I took the chance to throw some Hunter in here. It is platonic, but it fought to turn into something romantic-leaning, so a few parts might read a little oddly. I hope you enjoy, and thanks again!

Hunter + Platonic Fluff

The door to the Havoc Marauder slammed closed behind you, leaving you and the rest of the Bad Batch sitting in the darkness for a stunned half-second before the chaos started again.

"Tech, get us out of here," Hunter ordered sharply. "Cross and Echo, get to the guns. Wrecker, you and I are going to patch that hole in your arm."

"Aww, Sarge…" Wrecker complained loudly.

Hunter turned back toward you as though he had forgotten about you for a moment. He probably had, honestly. This was the first mission you had ever been on with Clone Force 99 and, so far, you had just felt like you were in the way.

"And you can go see if Tech needs any help piloting," Hunter told you.

You saluted quickly and made your way up to the front of the ship. You were feeling a little unsteady, and not just because of Tech's wild flying.

When you stepped into the cockpit, Tech whipped around. "What is it? Has something else happened?"

"No, everything is fine," you assured, grimacing as a near-miss explosion rocked the gunship. "As fine as ever, anyway. Hunter just told me to see if you needed any help."

"I am fine," Tech said, swiveling back around to watch where he was piloting the ship. 

Well. You sat down in the copilot's seat anyway, faced with a lack of other things to do. You stared out through the transparisteel pane that separated you and Tech from the explosions you were trying to avoid. 

"I don't need help here," Tech repeated. "You can help out other places."

"O-okay," you stammered, not really sure where to go. You were still flustered from the stress of combat, and embarrassed about it considering how well everyone else seemed to be handling the aftermath. 

You left the cockpit anyway, passing the bunks where Wrecker and Hunter were treating Wrecker's injured arm. You walked past the gun turrets that roared with firing blasters, interspersed with the sound of jokes, bets, and insults called back and forth between Echo and Crosshair.

You kept going further and further back in the Marauder, your heart pounding way too hard considering that the ship-rocking explosions were fading away rapidly. Eventually, you found a promising spot and sat down to concentrate on settling your scattered thoughts.

“You’re fine,” you reminded yourself, speaking aloud to help soothe your frazzled nerves. “You’re absolutely fine. Not a scratch. Nothing to worry about, no need to be worried. Just breathe.”

Thinking about breathing made you think about the Jedi and their meditation. Maybe that would help a little? You were safe, stowed in a remote corner of the Havoc Marauder. Taking a moment to close your eyes, think about nothing, and breathe sounded fantastic.

Obligingly, you let your eyes close and took a shaking breath, but it turned to a gasp as scenes from the battlefield flashed behind your closed eyelids. You opened your eyes again and buried your face in your hands, trying to feel soothed by the sound of the engines working beneath the floor where you sat.

“Everything okay back here?” a familiar voice called.

“Yea-” your traitorous voice cracked badly as you responded, and you took a moment to clear your throat before trying again. “Yeah, everything is fine.”

Obviously, Hunter hadn’t believed you, and he rounded the corner a moment later. 

“Why are you sitting there?” he asked, struggling toward you with his broad shoulders brushing both sides of the narrow hallway.

Technically speaking, you were in a maintenance duct. Or, at least, very close to one. The narrow hallway was meant to be used by a specialized droid, and the small hatch under your butt would lift so that the droid could access the engines while the ship was actively in flight. Humans were meant to reach the engines by going under the ship when it was stationary, and the duct hadn’t really been built to hold a living being - especially one Hunter’s size.

You weren’t really sure why you had chosen to sit there, other than that it was warm and a little dim and nothing could come up from behind you. It had seemed like a good spot at the time, but now you felt guilty as you watched Hunter try to get down the hallway.

Realizing he was still expecting an answer, you forced a careless shrug. “Tech didn’t need any help flying, so I came back here and decided to explore. Just wanted to sit for a second.”

Hunter looked skeptical, and you almost laughed at how well the expression came through even on the tattooed half of his face. He came to a stop in the hallway, tried to cross his arms, and caught them on the walls.

You took pity on him. “It opens up a little further down here. You’ll at least have some room to move around.”

After he made it to the small round room you were sitting in, Hunter sat gingerly on the floor beside you. Your eyebrows raised in surprise. The sergeant was a busy man, and being the commanding officer of the Bad Batch meant he didn’t have time for things like looking for a missing member of the crew, much less spending time with them in an awkward maintenance duct. Plus, post-combat was prime time to file reports. 

There were a hundred things he should have been doing, and he was ignoring them to check on you. Even after you had technically disobeyed a direct order. Your stomach sank even further as you realized you had indeed disobeyed an order from the commanding officer of your new team. Was he here to berate you?

He had barely sat down when you shot nervously to your feet. “Well, we should probably get back to the others. I should have cleared it with you before I left Tech. I’m sorry.”

Hunter stared up at you. “Tech? He was fine flying. He didn’t need any help and I wouldn’t expect you to stay there if you weren’t needed.”

“So you aren’t mad at me?” You grimaced and cleared your throat, instantly regretting the childish tone of your question. “I mean, I’m not in trouble for disobeying an order?”

“I asked you to help Tech,” Hunter said slowly. “That wasn’t really an order. You followed all my orders in the field, and that’s where it counts. You’re not in any trouble. Not that I know of, anyway.”

“Oh,” you said stupidly. That was anticlimactic. Still, your heart was pounding so hard that it was starting to hurt and, if you were going to fall to pieces, you wanted to do it away from the sergeant. “Well, I’ve explored this place enough. Am I dismissed?”

Hunter frowned harder, looking past the hand you had extended to help him to his feet. “No, you are not, and you should sit down.”

Nervously, you shifted your weight from one foot to the other. “I think I should get back to work. Lots of stuff to get done, you know?”

Hunter captured your wrist, movements slow and gentle. He bent your arm at the elbow so you could see your fingers violently trembling. “Why don’t you sit back down before you fall down?” he asked, voice kind.

Staring at your own hands, you lowered yourself back to the floor where you had started.

“Want to tell me what’s wrong?” Hunter didn’t look at you when he spoke, staring peacefully down the hallway instead.

“Nothing,” you hedged. “Now that I know I’m not in trouble.”

He smiled a bit at that, still not looking your way, and tapped his ear. “I can hear your heart. It’s thundering through the Marauder. I knew something was wrong from the bunks. If it was about the order you disobeyed, it would have slowed by now. You can talk if you want, but you don’t have to. I’ll be here with you either way.”

You swallowed back the reflexive tears that came up at that. Though, realistically, if Hunter could hear your heartbeat from the other side of the ship, he almost definitely heard the way your breath hitched at the sudden surge of emotion.

With a little laugh you hoped would cover the tight rasp of your voice, you offered, “I really am fine. I’m just… that was… it was a lot, back there. I know you guys are used to situations like that, but I…” You couldn’t think of any way to finish that sentence, so you just shook your head and let the silence hang.

You were so lost in your own thoughts that you didn’t notice Hunter had turned his head to consider you carefully.

“Is this the first time you’ve ever been shot at?” Hunter asked eventually. 

“Yeah,” you admitted. You hadn't even needed to think about it. Your last job, attached to a unit guarding a small planet with a good tactical position, hadn't seen any action for the four months you were stationed with them. "Does that happen to you guys often?"

Hunter sighed, adjusting the red bandana he used to keep his dark hair back from his face. "I won't lie, it happens so often we don't even think about it anymore."

You grimaced. How could they be so nonchalant about combat when any one of those beams could have been the end?

"Can you do this?" Hunter asked bluntly. "Work with us, knowing that what happened today wasn't a fluke? That it was considered a pretty minor skirmish by our standards?"

You couldn't detect any judgment in his tone. Hunter was a good leader, a good man. He wasn't asking as a reflection on you, but a question about what he should do next.

If you said you couldn't handle it, that would be that. He wouldn't judge, but you would be moved to a different unit. No more swapping jokes with Wrecker. No more convoluted trivia with Tech. No more sarcastic barbs traded with Crosshair. No more deep conversations with Echo. And no more awkward but heartwarming encounters with Hunter. All of it would end. You would be reassigned to another unit, probably one that rarely saw combat, and the Bad Batch would get a new officer attachment.

"I can do it," you told him with determination you didn't feel. You laughed humorlessly then, staring down at your hands. "As soon as I stop shaking, anyway."

"Adrenaline," Hunter supplied. "It'll pass."

You pressed your face into your hands again, more as an excuse to hide from Hunter's terribly understanding expression than anything more serious.

"Are you… good?" Hunter asked carefully. "Sometimes, physical contact can help the effects fade."

You peered out at him skeptically. For obvious reasons, Hunter didn't care for physical contact. "Are you offering to give me a hug?"

"Only if you want," Hunter clarified. "Like I said, the shaking will pass on its own in time."

"Actually, that sounds nice," you admitted. Stars, when was the last time you did something as simple as hug someone? 

Hunter was hesitant in moving toward you, slowly opening his arms and resting one behind your shoulder blades. He was being incredibly delicate considering that you had seen him snap the head off of a droid that day. Still, you knew how much this simple contact meant coming from Hunter with his enhanced senses. He was agreeing, among other things, to smell like you for the next few hours. 

You wrapped an arm around his back in return, relaxing into the hug like it was a warm bath on a cold day. Hunter held you in silence, occasionally rubbing his hand up and down your back as you stared down the narrow hallway.

With your head resting on his shoulder, you told him, "Thank you for being so nice to me."

He moved a little, pulling back just enough to frown down at you. "Of course. You're one of us. We take care of each other."

You couldn't think too hard about having been adopted by the group or you would start crying, so you returned to your previous position as the shaking finally began to fade.

“Besides,” Hunter added unexpectedly. “You’ll have to return the favor in a minute. I don’t much like tight spaces and getting out of here will be… unpleasant.”

It was your turn to move so that you could look at him. “You’re claustrophobic? I wouldn’t have expected that. I read your case files and you’ve never shown any reluctance about small spaces.”

“Commando training,” he said distinctly, like it was enough of an explanation on its own. Maybe it was, but he went on. “It makes you uncomfortable about a lot of things you never thought would bother you.”

“Then why walk down a tiny hallway?”

He shrugged, the motion jostling you slightly. “You’re part of my team and you needed help. I couldn’t just leave you here alone.”

You teared up a bit at that, but stood up anyway. “Thanks. Now, let’s get out of here.”

This time, he accepted the hand you stuck out and let you help him to his feet. You ignored his indulgent smile and he ignored the way you sniffled a few times while you both made your way back into the main hold of the Havoc Marauder. 

---

A/N - thanks for reading! You can find more works on my masterlist, or feel free to make a request for something of your own! 

[cupidcreates]

Love You Equally

Chapter Thirty: Missing Items

Part 3: Camera Setup

THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS NS//FW MATERIAL, VEIWER DESCRETION IS ADVISED

“What do you mean the camera’s didn’t capture any footage??”

The disbelief in Tamaki’s voice when Katsuki showed up to deliver the news later that day was palpable. Your worst fear had been confirmed; the cameras surrounding each and every one of your dorms had either been hacked to skip large chunks of footage, been broken just before the incident by some off-screen assailant, or had their footage erased all together. Any evidence you’d had of an intruder in your dorms was gone.

The school, thankfully, was taking the matter seriously and was upping security campus-wide. People in security uniforms patrolled the halls and streets of UA now, as well as stationed themselves outside the campus walls; community watchmen had been hired to patrol around the off-campus dorms as well.

Rumors about the cause of the increased security spread around campus like wildfire, but thankfully the administration was keeping tight-lipped on the whole situation; releasing an official statement that the increased security was due to concerns about drug movements through UA’s campus and out into the town. Most people seemed to buy it, and the fact that a lot of well-known plugs had cut back on their dealings only corroborated the story. The only people to know the truth of the matter - you, your soulmates, and your friends - weren’t keen on correcting anyone’s assumptions.

Needless to say the relief you felt when Saturday morning rolled around and you were able to get Yaoyorozu’s cameras from Jiro was immense. She walked you through the setup process and you spent the morning making the rounds to your soulmates dorms and housing helping them install the extra security.

Tamaki had decided to stay in his dorm for a while, to check it over and see if anything had gone missing in his month-long absence. You doubted there would be, as you were betting your stalker knew he’d been staying with you for a while, but you didn’t voice this opinion; it never hurt to be safe when dealing with potentially dangerous people. You bid him farewell with a kiss on the cheek and made your way through the winding hallways to Hitoshi’s dorm.

The door swung open the moment you arrived without you even having knocked, giving you the impression that he had been watching for you through the peephole. You stepped into his dorm and immediately noticed the drastic change that had occurred since you last visited him. Hitoshi was normally a very clean person, but now everything in his dorm was not only spotless but had at least a foot of distance separating it from everything else. There weren’t even books stacked on the shelf anymore, instead they were separated from one another by thin pieces of cardboard, colors alternating in a seven color pattern. No thought to space conservation, now if anything in his dorm was to be moved or go missing its absence would be immediately noticed.

“I uh- rearranged a bit”, Hitoshi said sheepishly from the doorway, closing the door and fastening his many locks, “I just wanted to be one-hundred percent sure I’d notice if something was missing or in a spot it shouldn’t be.”

“That’s smart,” you said as he crossed over to you, rubbing the back of his neck, “It can never hurt to be safe in a situation like this.”

“Definitely,” he said as you both moved into the living room, “Have you noticed anything else missing from your dorm since Wednesday?”

“No,” you said, discarding the cameras on the barren coffee table, “I’ve been keeping a close eye on everything but so far nothing has been missing.”

You sat down on the couch and Hitoshi plopped himself down next to you, flinging his arms over the back of the couch and letting his head roll back. You shifted to move yourself underneath his arm and laid your head on his shoulder. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and brought his knuckles up to brush against your cheek.

“I just feel like they’re trying to lure us into a false sense of security,” Hitoshi said with a sigh “Like they’re planning something big for us and want us to have our guard down.”

You sit in silence for a moment, allowing yourself to be soothed by his caresses. You wrap one arm around Hitoshi and squeeze him in a facsimile of a hug.

“I really don’t like thinking about that, about what they could be planning next,” You sighed, “It really terrifies me. Is that what you think they want? To scare us?”

Hitoshi’s frown deepened and he signed, pulling away from you and standing up, “It probably is what they want,” he admitted, “especially if Monoma is behind all of this, which I’m now almost positive he is. This kind of thing is just his style.”

Hitoshi looked down at your worried face and his expression softened. “Listen kitten,” he said, bending down and titling your face up to look at him “Whatever he’s got planned next, whatever happens, I’ll be here for you okay? We’ll all stick together through this and make it out alright, alright? I promise you that.”

You smile as he comes in to capture your lips in a chaste kiss, “I believe you Toshi, thank you.”

Setting up Hitoshi’s cameras took longer than it did with your other four boyfriends, mostly because he needed to constantly be in some physical contact with you. Brushing his shoulder against yours, running his hands down your arms or your back, planting kisses on your face and neck, or even stopping you mid-action to pull you into a hug. You didn’t mind the attention, but you also couldn’t lie that this was abnormal for him. He wasn’t reserved with his affections like Katsuki was, but this was borderline Tamaki-levels of attachment.

You discarded your worries about his behavior as a result of multiple stresses; the stalker turned thief situation hit right before midterms were about to start up again, so undoubtedly Hitoshi would be a bit more clingy at this time.

You really didn’t think much of it at all, that was until you moved to the bedroom and were promptly thrown onto the bed, camera and setup pulled from your hands and swiftly discarded on a shelf by the door.

Hitoshi climbed atop you and flopped down, covering your entire body with his own and making your breath rush out of your lungs with a sharp whoosh. He buried his face in your neck and pushed his arms underneath your body, wrapping them around you and sighing. 

“Doing okay, Toshi?” You asked, pushing your hands up his shirt and rubbing his back in small soothing circles. He lifted his head and peppered your face with kisses. Gripping you tighter and using his thumbs to stroke your sides.

“I’m sorry,” he said in between kisses, “I’m sorry for this whole situation. It’s my fault, I should have blocked Monoma the second he contacted me, now he’s trying to fuck around with everyone to get back at me and I just-”

You covered Hitoshi’s mouth with your hand and pressed your forehead to his. “Hey,” you said sternly, “Don’t you apologize for what he’s done. None of what he’s done is your fault. It’s not your fault you tried to allow him back into your life and he fucked it up. Nothing that’s happened can be blamed on you and I don’t want to hear otherwise, alright?”

You removed your hand and captured his lips in a heated kiss before he could answer, he moaned into your mouth and swiped his tongue across your bottom lip. He pulled away and kissed the tip of your nose.

“Okay,” he said pressing his face back into your neck and sighing contentedly, “Okay, I’m sorry. And thank you, kitten.”

“Anytime,” you stroked your hands down his back and gripped his hips. You noticed that Hitoshi felt much less soft than he had before, his sides were now toned and hard with muscle that would give Katsuki a run for his money. Apparently he had bulked up over the past few months, and you had to wonder what brought about this change.

“Have you been working out recently?” You asked while pushing your hands between your bodies and tracing his hip bones, no longer covered by a layer of softness but now sharp and jutting out.

“A bit,” he replied, gasping sharply as you bent your fingers (as much as you could with them being squished between the both of you)  and ran your nails up his stomach. “Katsuki goes to the gym really early most mornings and I accompany him on the nights when I can’t sleep and accidentally stay up all- are you trying to start something Kitten?”

You grinned cheekily as your hands found their way back down to his hips and into his pants, stroking the insides of his thigh gently while being sure to get close, but not too close, to his crotch.

“Perhaps I am,” you retorted with an evil grin, “what are you going to do if I am? Going to finish it for me?”

A deep growl rumbled from Hitoshi’s chest as he grabbed both your wrists with one hand and pinned them up above your head, puncturing the movement with a harsh thrust that flattened your hands against his thighs and brushed his clothed cock right against your crotch.

“Oh I’ll finish it alright,” he purred in your ear sending shivers up your spine, “But only if you want me to, kitty-cat.”

“Oh yes,” you replied breathlessly, “I absolutely want you to finish it.”

He smirked, “That’s what I thought you’d say,” he said and caught your lips in a kiss, nipping your bottom lip hard and thrusting his tongue into your mouth as you gasped. Using the hand that wasn’t pinning your wrists above your head he unbuttoned your pants and pushed his hand downward into your underwear, quickly finding your clitoris and using two fingers to rub it in small circles.

You shuddered under his ministrations gasping and moaning into his mouth as he applied the perfect amount of pressure to your clit. You squirmed underneath him, feeling your cunt getting wetter with every passing moment he massaged you.

Just as you felt the pleasure start to build he pulled away, moving down your body and pulling both your pants and underwear with him. You had just a moment to gasp at the cool air hitting your skin before Hitoshi’s face was buried in your crotch; licking once over you entrance and letting his tongue slip inside your folds ever so slightly before suctioning his lips to your clit and massaging it.

You shuddered and cried out as he sucked and massaged your clit, his tongue swirling around it in a way that had you seeing stars. Every movement bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm and just as you felt yourself nearing your edge he pulled away once again. Moving off the bed and over to his nightstand and retrieving a condom from the top drawer.

You propped yourself up on your elbows as Hitsohi climbed back on top of you, undoing his pants and kissing you allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. He leaned into you, pushing your back flat against the mattress again as he rolled the condom onto his cock and prodded your wet entrance with his head.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” He asked, pulling back to look you in the eyes, “I want to make sure you’re alright with this before I-”

“Listen here,” you snapped, grabbing his face with both of your hands, “you’re not going to eat me out like that and not fuck me after it, alright? So please.”

Hitoshi hummed and caught you in another kiss, “Only since you asked so nicely, Kitten” he said, “But you need to let me know how you’re doing okay? Say yellow if it’s too much and red if you need me to stop all together, alright?”

“Yellow?” You asked as he sucked a hickey into your neck, “A-And red?” 

“Mhm,” Hitoshi hummed against your neck, moving one hand up to your breast and pinching your nipple lightly, “I need you to communicate when it’s too much; Green is good, Yellow is pull back, and Red is stop all together, you okay with that?”

“I-” you cut off with a gasp as he jerked his hips once and pushed the tip of his cock in and out of you swiftly, “I-I’m o-okay with t-that, y-yeah.”

“Are you sure Kitten?” He taunted, pushing the tip in again only to yank it right back out of you, “I don’t want to do anything you’re not ready for-”

“God Hitoshi,” you groaned throwing your head back against the pillows, “Just fuck me already, please.”

Hitoshi took a moment to suck another hickey into your neck, pulling away only when the mark was sufficiently purple.

“As you wish Kitten,” He whispered in your ear before slamming his entire length inside of you.

Your back arched off the bed and you nearly screamed at the sudden intrusion. Hitoshi gave you no reprieve as he immediately set a back breaking pace, gripping your hips hard enough to bruise and impaling you on his cock repeatedly. You gripped the headboard and braced yourself against the onslaught, every thrust sending the head of Hitoshi’s cock directly into your g-spot. You wrapped your legs around his back and used them to push him even closer to you, forcing him to stay close and deep inside of you. Hitoshi removed one of his hands from your hips to press his thumb back into your clit, circling and pushing it with a practiced skill.

Your eyes rolled back into your skill as you took the pounding of your life, your orgasm fast approaching under his ministrations. It wouldn’t be long before you reached your peak, you grabbed his hips to keep him as deep inside you as you could, causing his movements to become harder and faster as he couldn’t pull away.

“Color,” He gasped out, “color, baby, how are you doing?”

“Green,” you all but screamed, “Green, green, green, please don’t stop I-”

You cut off as a particularly hard thrust sent you careening over the edge, orgasm hitting you with such force that stars flashed behind your eyelids and your whole body tensed.

Hitoshi groaned as you clenched around him, moving his hand back to your hips and fucking himself into you at an erratic pace, all semblance of rhythm forgotten as he chased his orgasm inside of you. One final thrust and and he stilled, shuddering as he came just moments after you.

You both collapsed with a huff, panting as you both came down from your post-orgasm high. Hitoshi peppered your face with kisses and slowly pulled himself out of you, leaving you feeling empty and sore.

Eventually Hitoshi spoke again, “A-are you okay Kitten? What color?”

“G-Green,” you stammered, bringing your leadened arms up around his shoulders and pressing a kiss to his cheek, “I’m so so green.”

He smiled and pressed a soft kiss to your nose, “I’m glad to hear it,” he relid.

You both lay for several moments longer, enjoying each other's embrace before you suddenly remembered why you’d come over here in the first place.

“Didn’t we have a camera to set up here?” you asked.

“We did,” he replied with a chuckle, “But I wanted to be sure we didn’t catch that on tape. Be a bit awkward to explain if we had to go through the footage in front of the administration.”

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[bleachluna]

Letters

Ended up skipping day 2 of @hitsukarinweek as I had no ideas for it but here’s my fic for day 3! Also on AO3

Dear Toshiro,

Can you please explain to me how the hell Soul Society managed to copy mobile phones from humans, and even put hollow tracking technology in them, but didn't make them able to send stuff across realms? I know you explained that SS phones in soul society can only contact those in soul society, and when they're here in the human world they can only contact those here, but I only realised how ridiculously stupid that is until after you left. What if there's an emergency and you need to contact someone across realms for whatever reason? Surely you need to get this fixed, I cannot believe if I want to talk to you I'm stuck writing letters like it's the 1800s. I'm even writing more formally than I expected, apparently letter writing brings it out of me and I absolutely hate it. You've gotta fix it. Not to mention I'm not a fan of leaving letters for Urahara to pass on for me, I'm not totally convinced he won't read them.

Anyway, it's been a couple of months since I saw you last. That's probably a good thing, that a captain hasn't been needed here, but I'll admit I wonder about you sometimes, I hope everything is ok on your end! I don't know what it was about turning sixteen but all of a sudden all of this stuff about trying to figure out careers is on me constantly. Yuzu figured out years ago that she wanted to go into healthcare, she took to it way back when we were kids. She was originally planning to go into nursing but her grades have improved a lot recently, she might be a doctor instead, but she's also thinking about midwifery. So there's stuff she's gotta figure out for sure, but at least she knows what area she wants to go into? I don't even have that. I mean how do you figure out what to do with the rest of your life when you're sixteen? I haven't even figured myself out yet. How did you decide to become a shinigami?

Other than that though things are ok. School is a little stressful because grades suddenly feel so much more important, but the work's manageable at least. Hollow level seems to be stable at the minute too which is great, one less thing to worry about! And Urahara improved his reiatsu blocking bracelet thing, I've had this one for almost four months and it hasn't broken so even less chance of getting eaten! Always a plus. But anyway, I hope things are good on your end as well, and that you aren't buried up to your ears in paperwork. Let me know if you ever have any plans to pop up in the human world!

Best Wishes,

Karin

P.S. - I sent this on the 22nd of June, let me know when this gets to you/when you send yours, I wanna know what sort of delivery time we're looking at here.

- - - - -

Dear Karin,

I don't even remotely have the skills or know-how to fix something like that, that's what the Research & Development Team is for. I agree it's a little daft that our mobile phones can't send things across realms, but I'm sure said team knows this and is likely working on it, as you said, it would be unfortunate in an emergency situation. Plus I know Urahara can be a little eccentric, but do you really think he'd read the letters? I'm sure it's fine.

It is a good thing I've not been needed, the last thing Karakura needs is more trouble and destruction. Have they managed to rebuild that major bridge you were talking about yet? Everything is alright here, or at least in my division anyway. I've been kept busy recently, a set of students graduated from the academy last month so I've had 18 new recruits to introduce to squad 10. As for the careers stuff, I honestly assumed from the work you did here and there for the clinic that you were interested in healthcare as well, I take it that's not actually the case then? Do you at least have rough ideas of the sort of thing you'd want to go into? I'm not sure I'll be much help in that respect, I can't wrap my head around half of the jobs that seem to exist in the human world. In some ways I had it easier, the choice was out of my hands. My reiatsu was getting stronger and Hyorinmaru came to me before I even knew what was happening, I needed to go to the academy to make sure my reiatsu didn't become dangerous, therefore I became a shinigami. I never had to wonder what to do with myself in terms of employment.

I'm glad to hear things are going well with you, I'm certainly glad to hear you don't have to worry as much about the bracelet breaking. Is your reiatsu still increasing? If it's stabilising that might be part of why this new bracelet is managing better. I know you're not particularly interested in getting involved with shinigami stuff, which frankly I agree with, but if your reiatsu is still increasing I do think it's worth training you to hide it properly. I am unfortunately always at least a little buried in paperwork, particularly recently with the new recruits, but it's manageable. I don't think I'll be in the human world soon, but I will let you know if I plan to.

Best Wishes,

Toshiro

P.S. - I got your letter on the 2nd of July, I should be handing this letter over to be sent on the 4th, schedule permitting.

- - - - -

Dear Toshiro,

Well I hope you make sure that the research team are working on it, because this really is ridiculous. And you're kidding right? I trust Urahara about as far as I can throw him, which is probably all of three feet.

The bridge is still being rebuilt, but I think they're in the last stages now thank god. All the diversions needed really messed with the traffic, maybe I can finally stop leaving the house half an hour earlier just to get to my soccer club. It's supposed to be twenty minutes max by bus and it's been taking easily twice that. Let me know if you find out which shinigami it was that released their zanpakuto on that bridge, I have some choice words for them.

An entire class of students graduated and you only got 18 newbies at the tenth? Was it a small class or is that the normal kind of numbers you see? I assumed there's like, thousands and thousands of shinigami, is there less than I thought? Is that why I only ever see you and Rukia besides the dude who's currently stationed here? And I don't know about going into healthcare, that's my whole problem! I don't know what I want. Healthcare is fine but I don't feel like it's my life purpose to go into it either so yeah, I don't know. Healthcare would be alright, sports would be cool maybe? But I don't think there's a whole lot of sports careers outside of professional (which is definitely not happening) or teaching, and I'm not convinced I'm the teacher type. I just don't seem to have this strong urge to go in a particular direction like Yuzu does. But wow, I didn't know that, you basically HAD to train to be a shinigami? I didn't know that was a thing that could happen, that your reiatsu can go that far on its own. That kind of sucks though doesn't it? That you had no choice? I hope you enjoy being a shinigami at least.

To be honest I think my reiatsu probably is still going up. I don't think it's as quick as it was before, it's settled a little bit, probably because there hasn't been much danger around recently, but I do think it's still inching up. Is that a huge issue? Obviously it became a huge issue with you so now I'm kinda nervous. I'm not gonna get kidnapped into the shinigami am I? I can train to hide my reiatsu without actually becoming a shinigami right? Frankly I trust you more on this than Urahara. And you better let me know in advance if you can, Yuzu says she wants to make you those dumplings you liked again.

Best Wishes,

Karin

P.S. - I got excited at first thinking that sending these took less than two weeks, that didn't seem that bad considering we're sending them via Urahara whenever someone comes through realms, but then your letter took almost a month to come, it arrived on the 27th :( I'm handing this letter over on the 28th.

- - - - -

Dear Karin,

The Research & Development Team is not under my command, they belong to the twelfth, I cannot make sure that they're working on it, but I shall ask at the next opportunity I get. I think you're selling yourself short, I'm sure you could get at least five feet, but I do see your point, I can't say I fully trust him either, not on an individual basis anyway. I trust him to want the best for everybody, and to work towards that, but I don't think he pays attention to what that means for the individuals in the situation. More of a 'the end justifies the means' sort of person from what I've heard. And I'm afraid I have no idea who it was who damaged the bridge, but given they were fighting a powerful hollow at the time I imagine it was the correct course of action. Better on the bridge than in the middle of town.

I get the impression there is less shinigami than you think. Most squads have just over two hundred or so members, so 18 new recruits is actually a pretty good year. As for why you only really see me or Vice-Captain Kuchiki, it's a combination of needing a strong enough shinigami to deal with the sort of problems that crop up in Karakura, while also needing said shinigami to have a vague clue on how to navigate the human world. Vice-Captain Kuchiki presumably has rather extensive knowledge having lived in the human world for months, and I've been known to visit for years so they know I'm alright with being there as well. I think it's alright to not have an idea of a 'life's purpose' when you're in your second year of high school. Maybe just pick something for now as a sort of in-between while you continue working out what it is you want? Sometimes a job is just a job after all. You could always try a career in sports and see how it goes if it interests you now, and switch later on? I'm sure you'll figure something out. I'll admit I was definitely reluctant to train as a shinigami at first, it was never something I wanted originally, so it was hard to deal with to begin with I suppose, but I don't mind it these days. It's stressful, but at least I'm doing something where I'm trying to keep people safe, that suits me well enough.

Unfortunately yes, in my case my reiatsu continuously going up was an issue, but I don't think it's as serious with you. Firstly, you've not got a zanpakuto knocking on your subconscious as far as I know (the telltale giveaway is weird dreams where someone/something is trying to talk to you and tell you it's name, in case you were worried about that), and the people around you aren't vulnerable. You're unlikely to cause issues with your reiatsu because everyone around you has some degree of spiritual power already. As for the other questions, I certainly hope you won't be kidnapped into the shinigami, and I don't think your brother or even Urahara would let that happen, but it's possible you'll get Soul Society's attention if it keeps going unchecked. Of course with Urahara keeping on eye on it and keeping the reiatsu blocking bracelet on you, I'd argue that it's largely taken care of and shouldn't get other shinigami on you. There isn't much shinigami training you can do without becoming a shinigami, but you can learn to withdraw and hide your reiatsu even as a human so don't worry about that. I would say to ask your brother but he's never been very good at controlling his, Urahara is your other option, or possibly Vice-Captain Kuchiki if she's around. Or if those don't work out and your reiatsu gets to a point where you're truly worried about it let me know, I'll train you in it myself if it comes to it. Also, I appreciate the thought but your sister doesn't need to go to trouble like that for me.

Best Wishes,

Toshiro

P.S. - I got your letter on the 17th of August. I think it's safe to say they take anywhere from over a week to just under a month to arrive each time.

- - - - -

Dear Toshiro,

Let me know what the research team says! If they say they're not working on it please heavily suggest that they do, and if they say they are working on it, please ask how long they think it'll take them. Just think how much easier communicating would be if we could just call each other. The end justifies the means is EXACTLY Urahara's vibe, which is exactly why I don't really trust him. So yeah, it wouldn't even remotely surprise me if he's been reading these the entire time, better to assume the worst and be pleasantly surprised than the other way around. I suppose you have a point about the bridge being a better location than in the middle of a bunch of people, I'll put up with inconvenient travel times over unnecessary death.

Only a little over two hundred per squad? There is less than I thought! That's way less than your average university over here, that's crazy! 18 newbies is good in that case, your squad must be pretty popular. And no wonder I only really ever see you or Rukia, you guys clearly need to work on getting more people up to the speed with the human world or you're gonna end up over-worked! I guess I could just go for sports now and switch later? I don't know, you kinda get it into your head that you've gotta figure out what you want and stick to it, but I guess there's nothing actually stopping me from changing paths later. Once school goes back in I'm gonna get a meeting and talk to the careers lady, see what she says. I'm glad you're alright with being a shinigami now, hopefully it isn't stressful too much of the time.

Well, I'll take your word for it, you know more than me on this but I'm still kinda wary. You're right that there's no zanpakto trying to get my attention so far at least so that's something. If I do get kidnapped by the shinigami I'm trusting you to break me back out, but yeah that is kind of the whole point of the bracelet, that it blocks off my reiatsu from others so hollows can't find me so easily (and shinigami apparently, yeesh) so hopefully this won't actually be an issue. I don't really want to ask Urahara to train me but I will if I have to I guess. Asking Rukia's a good idea though! I'll ask whenever she next pops up, she seems like she'd be good at that sort of thing, maybe that'll solve this whole situation. Or you know, you, if you happen to come sooner, whoever comes to the human world next I guess! I'd feel better knowing that I myself could do the thing the bracelet's doing. Although I do have a question, how do you do it in your sleep? Or is it not possible and you're just vulnerable a third of the time? That seems unfortunate. Also you're kidding right? Cooking is the primary way my sister shows her care and affection, if she wants to cook for you there's no stopping her so you can at least give us notice so we can get ingredients and stuff.

Best Wishes,

Karin

- - - - -

Dear Karin,

I will let you know what the research team says as soon as it actually comes up. I can see your point, I suppose it is better to plan for the worst and be pleasantly surprised otherwise. Good to see you have your priorities in order, is the bridge finally finished though?

I remember being surprised by the size of your high school, I assume universities are even bigger? Must be an administrative nightmare to keep track of all those students, I feel like I can have a hard enough time with the 226 members I have. Squad 10 was surprisingly popular this year, the only other squads who had numbers like that were the sixth and the eleventh, both of which always have high numbers. We did have 'human world' classes at the academy at one point, but they ended up being scrapped a decade or so ago, any information learned was rendered almost completely obsolete within a few years, meaning the stuff the students learned was more or less useless by the time they were actually getting stationed in the human world. These days we just give a brief information pack about the human world before they leave, currently being updated semi-regularly by Vice-Captain Kuchiki. Meeting with a staff member whose job it is to deal with career pathways certainly sounds like a good idea, I hope it goes well if it hasn't already taken place.

Once again, I certainly hope Soul Society would try such a thing, it would be incredibly stupid considering I don't think your brother, who damn near took on the whole of Soul Society and pretty much came out on top, would ever let you get kidnapped in the first place. And I'm fairly sure me, a captain, breaking out someone Soul Society captured is probably considered treason of some kind, but I can promise I'll be in your corner one way or another. Not to mention, I don't think most shinigami would be prepared for you anyway, most are too used to sword combat, I don't think the average shinigami would handle your hand to hand very well. I'm sure you've got nothing to worry about. As for hiding your reiatsu in your sleep, generally speaking you just practice it enough that it becomes second nature, most shinigami do it subconsciously after a while, including in sleep, although nightmares and the like can interfere a little bit. Your sister has met me what, three times? She feels strongly enough to cook for me? It really is unnecessary although I'm sure the thought is kind. I did say I'd give you notice if I came to the human world though, our sensors are showing an increase in hollow activity in Karakura recently. We're currently just monitoring, we're holding off for now as it might be temporary, but if it gets worse I'm coming to monitor the situation properly and to make sure no incidents happen with the hollow increase. Judging from the current rate, if it keeps going as is I'll probably be there in two weeks or so. With any luck this letter will arrive before I do but if not, I'll make sure to meet up with you somewhere.

Best Wishes,

Toshiro

- - - - -

Dear Toshiro,

Your letter got here super quick, less than a week after I sent mine! Looks like there's increased shinigami activity to match the hollow activity, which boy, you're not kidding that its increased. My reiatsu's jumped up again and I couldn't tell you if it was a response to all the hollows around, or that the hollows arrived because of me. I really hope it's the former. Hopefully you'll be here soon! I think I could do with the training sooner rather than later and if I'm being honest I'd feel safer. But anyway, in response to your letter:

The bridge is actually finished! Just in time for the increased hollows to fuck it up again I'm sure! Most universities are like 10,000 to 30,000 easy, and I think some are bigger than that? So yeah, only two hundred or so shinigami per squad is insane to me. I'm pretty sure the universities have whole administrative teams just for the purpose, does your squad have an admin person at all or is it just you? When I first found out about the shinigami I didn't think I'd sit here wondering about the bureaucracy of it all but here I am. Oh wow I would've loved to sit in one of those human world classes, would've been hilarious I bet. At least you give newly stationed people something, I imagine the culture shock must be a bit much, I'm sure Rukia's information is very accurate given how much time she's spent here. And the careers meeting is actually in two days, I kinda nervous about it to be honest, but hopefully it'll be helpful.

Well I suppose when you put it that way Soul Society kidnapping me would very much be poking the bear huh? I'm extremely saddened to hear that you wouldn't commit treason for me though, what kind of friendship is this??? But I suppose I'll take comfort in you being 'in my corner one way or another', whatever that means. Does it mean in the event of soul society kidnapping me and forcing me to be a shinigami you'd immediately put me in your squad? That's the vibe I'm getting. But that's good to know about the hand to hand combat and the reiatsu withdrawing while still asleep, I'll bear those both in mind. As for your potential visit, given hollows seem to be popping up left right and centre I'm assuming you're probably coming in a week or so, I'll look out for your arrival! I get the impression this letter isn't going to get to you before you arrive in the human world but just in case it does I'll let you know, Yuzu added the dumpling ingredients onto her shopping list. That means you've gotta be at our house for at least one dinner! Consider it repayment for the training I'm gonna demand from you.

Hope you get here safe,

Karin

[gildedmuse]

Room For One More

I wrote this just off the cuff, for no reason. It was inspired in part by conversations with @jhaernyl and @babblebuzz so I encourage you to blame them, even though neither of them asked for this, wanted it, or suspected they were about to get 1000+ words in their messages. 

It’s suppose to be Mihawk.x Law x Zoro, but it never got so far. It features Mihawk x Law as a married couple, Zoro as Mihawk’s too young and too cute and too sexy assistant that Law finds just suspicious... And also really fucking hot.

PS: Sorry for the requests I haven’t filled, especially Go To War For You. It’s coming, I swear! I just got out of the hospital and straight back to work, and I lost my train of thought there. But I’m slowly writing it out. Because obviously I love me some MiZoLaw

PPS: See people this is what you message me/converse with me. I just write up 1000 words of nothing. You are to blame.

Room For One More: Get Him Out

Ooohh... Au where Law is married to Mihawk and one day he comes home to find his husband leaning over and around this green haired.... KID (that's what he is, he is a goddamn kid, Law thinks. He may be all of 18. Barely.) Law just stands in the door, utterly unacknowledged as Mihawk continues speaking in that low, sexy voice of his and Law is too upset to even hear what he's saying, but he sure as hell can see the way his husband's mouth is so close to the boy's ear the three gold bars hanging from it jingle together. Like a fucking alarm bell as far as Law is concerned.

Law coughs.

Twice.

That finally does it. Both of them turn as if they just noticed Law when he'd come in mid rant about a patient who just won't take his damn meds and paperwork and yet only know have they managed to notice his existence.

Mihawk smiles even as Law glares him down. "Law, you're home early."

"Actually, I'm home precisely when I was supposed to be."

Mihawk nods, brow furrowing for a mere second, thrown by the snippiness in Law's voice. Oh sorry I sound upset about walking in on your clearly private session with school boy jezebel here, honey. "Which in your case, is early. I can't name the last time you did not stay late at the hospital for one reason or another."

"I had a frustrating day, I wanted to call it an early night. I wasn't aware that we'd have... guests." Law's eyes not so subtly fall to the boy, unable to see him completely since he's still sitting there between his husband's arms. Plus he's gone back to whatever is in front of him on the table. Sure, now he feels a sense of shame.

When his gaze goes back to his husband, Mihawk has an eyebrow raised. Law knows that look. The "I am older and wiser than you and do not understand at times why you behave the way you do" look. Law hates that look, but right at this particular moment it makes him want to stab something.

Preferably something green, cute, and sitting in between his husband's arms like it's no big deal.

"I informed you earlier. Red-Hawk offices are under going heavy renovation and will be unusable for the next two weeks, forcing me to work from home." Yes, Law remembers the conversation. Although, admittedly, only barely. He'd had just gotten off two major surgeries and countless troublesome patients and a 12 hour shift. Mihawk himself had apparently been forced to run meeting after meeting, and all alone thanks to the newly wedded Shanks and Benn having both come down with some undescribed illness, that was on top of his normal work overseeing product development, speaking with potential clients, whatever he did at that office of his, the very description of which always bored Law. He knows it's something sports related, that it makes incredibly good money but also keeps Mihawk constantly busy and nearly as exhausted as Law. Just the other day he ended up sleeping over at the office and...

Oh. Oh, fuck, Law has been so stupid and naïve. And he supposes this boy's name just happens to be At-the-office.

"This is Roronoa Zoro," Mihawk continues, ignoring the narrowing of Law's eyes. "He's one of our interns. He's acting as my temporary assistant while Perona is on vacation."

Right... The pink haired gothic doll that acts as his husband's right hand.... Lolita (that wording had never sounded so wrong to Law. He'd met Perona plenty of times. While the girl gets on his nerves, she is apparently incredibly effective. He's also seen her with Mihawk and there is absolutely nothing going on there.) Her absence is part of what's been adding to his husband's recent stress at work.

Stress he's apparently found a cure for. A very new cure, apparently. Barely old enough to be out of testing.

The boy glances back at Law since the first time since he first interrupted them. His husband stands up, freeing the boy to sit up a little straighter. Law had been right. He is cute. Annoyingly so.

"Hey there," the boy says in such an incredibly causal tone it actually throws Law for a second.

"Roronoa," Mihawk's already low voice seems to dip a little deeper, more authoritative. Usually sexy as hell, goes right to Law's cock. Unless he's exhausted. Or it's being used on his fucking boy toy.

The kid actually rolls his eyes! "Sorry. How do you do, Dracule-san," Zoro says, using his schoolboy on his best behavior voice which, who knows, he may actually still have use for. His voice is lower than Law had assumed, almost expecting him to sound like a child not yet through puberty.

"It's Trafalgar, actually," Law corrects him, and it's a pointed correction. Instead of being relieved that at least the boy knows he is indeed the husband here, he's more annoyed than ever. So Mihawk told him he was married and the boy came anyway?

Zoro shrugs off the mistake, apparently entirely unaffected by Law's rather legendary bad looks. "S-- My apologies, Trafalgar, I was unaware."

Law can't help but notice that despite the still formal language, Zoro has already thrown away the honorific. Much like he already thrown away any respect for the sanctity of Law's wedding vows.

You know what, no. Law's day had been hell and this is simply too much right now. "Excuse me. I'm starving," he mutters. He moves by Mihawk without stopping for their usual kiss, not even looking at his husband as he goes to open the fridge.

It doesn't mean he misses the way his husband's striking golden eyes follow him, just like a hawk's would as it studies its prey. Nor does he miss how eventually the feeling burning into the back of his neck drops away. He hears a low sigh, almost neutral except he knows his husband. He can hear the frustration.

Good. Let him be frustrated..

"Roronoa," Mihawk says, sounding almost as tired as Law feels. "Do you remember when I showed you the study earlier, where I keep all the file logs."

Law is too busy trying to ignore the goddamn child in his kitchen to care what he replies. He does, however, get out some vegetables right at that moment, and so sees the way Zoro turns his head up, exposing a long column of his neck, stretching it above the collar of his undone dress shirt, as he gives his husband a sort of searching look, pausing before he nods.

"Could you take the papers up there, please, and finish the form as instructed. Law is trying to dig out a damn chopping block but does hear the boy say, "Yeah, sure." and the scratch of chair legs along with shuffling papers.

Just as Law has finally found what he needed, right where it was supposed to be but that's not the point, he hears Mihawk approaching. Before he even makes it halfway to Law he's stopped. "Wait."

Law looks up on instinct. Mihawk's deep voice also attracts Zoro, who had finally almost been gone. "Don't start the next form until I am there. Simply file what we've completed."

"Yeah, okay."

"That will be all, Roronoa." Zoro actually has the nerve to roll his eyes before he turns to start leaving again. Not that he gets far. "Roronoa," his husband adds with another sigh. Frustrated still, annoyed and... endeared. Yes, damnit, Law knows Mihawk too well.. "It is the other door." Zoro's shoulders go very stiff. He huffs but says nothing, making a quick turn and marching out of their kitchen. At least.

Law slams the chopping board down on the counter so hard he's surprised neither of them breaks.

"Law.." Mihawk places a heavy hand on Law's shoulder which is quickly dismissed. He picks up a knife - perhaps not the best choice at the moment... For Mihawk - and starts chopping away at some peppers. They are nice and green and easy for him to slice apart. "Law... Darling," Mihawk tries again, this time not attempt to touch him. He is watching Law chop apart the pepper, which is good. One of them should probably be paying attention to the way he wielding a sharp blade around his fingers while exhausted and enraged. "Very well, I can see that you've come to certain conclusions, but let me assure you those assumption are entirely incorrect, likely the result of your long shifts and lack of sleep.

Law ends up embedding the knife in the board. He turns to Mihawk, an aura of pure darkness. Honestly, he loves the man, bit is this the time for one of his "be sensible, I'm right" speeches? Law glares up at him, temped just storm out only that would just make Mihawk feel more confirmed in his believe that Law is over reacting.

Instead, after a deep breath, Law starts in on him, his voice low and logical while still with an edge of danger. "I walked into our kitchen to find you leaning over some boy BARELY out of high school - hopefully! - whispering in his damn ear.... Don't think I don't remember you doing that to me. I believe you later admitted to loving being able to watch my face as you slowly worked me up into a frenzy. Was the boy getting hard for you? Or had you only just started?"

Law's voice is laced with some much bitterness and maybe... Maybe some heartbreak but Law is burying that deep right now. Yet Mihawk's face gives him nothing. His husband leans against the counter with his arms crossed, watching him go off on this rant with neutral and yet somehow analytical expression. That just drives Law temperature even further. Even more than Mihawk's utter lack of an answer.

"Your reaction?" Law's voice is raising with every word, furious that Mihawk is giving him so little when Law has every right to be mad. "Once I get you attention, at least. You're very first comment when I come home exhausted and stressed and find you with some green haired, rude little brat? Surprise that I'm home early."

"I apologize, Hawk-ya, that in interrupted your time with-

Mihawk pulls Law in for a kiss. It's not sensual or deep, but it's sincere. Which... Law can't even understand. It makes no sense. It makes Law want to cry and as that realizes comes Law realized he already has been.

Why is Mihawk doing this to him? Just tell him the truth.

When he pulls back, Mihawk appears at least somewhat contrite. Still, when he finally nods it feels like like an agreement and more like he's acquiescing. "Perhaps it would have given the circumstance to give you more time to adjust to this change, but let me assure you that Roronoa is only here in an official, business capacity. "

"And what's his business? Sucking my husband's cock?" Law bites back, no longer wanting Mihawk to try and disguise what is obvious, like he thinks Law is an idiot or, more likely, so overworked and so rarely home he simply would never notice the indiscretion and would be too exhausted to bother caring if he did.

Is that... Is that how Mihawk sees their relationship?

Mihawk reaches for him again but Law has had enough. He jerks away before Mihawk even gets close to touching him, eyes fire and challenges as he stares up at the older man. “Where did you pick him up? A damn kindergarten?”

“He’s an intern for RedHawk, as I explained earlier,” while Mihawk’s words are still rather simple, straight forward in many ways, his tone is patient. Like he’s dealing with a damn child. “And he is nineteen.” Well, he probably has practice since he’s sleeping with one. “Please, Law, you are clearly exhausted. Let me finish instructing Zoro on some final matters and we’ll both of us lay down. It’s been a hard week and-”

Oh, he’s sure his husband will instruct the boy on all sorts of things. Law swings around, hunger completely forgotten. “You’re right, Hawk-ya,” he spits the old nickname with a venom, storming from the kitchen, his hunger completely forgotten. “I do need rest. And frankly I think that is more likely to happen if I don’t have to share my bed with two other people.”

[goodnightyoongi]

Yoongi x fem!reader pt4

genre: hurt/comfort/smut

rating: E

word count: 4,5k

summary: In this series, Yoongi and you are childhood friends, and he’s helping you through some issues you’ve been facing lately, while your relationship slowly blossoms into something more. 

warnings: implied depression, self-critical thoughts, EXPLICIT SMUT (oral sex) in the later part of this chap. Start and finish are indicated

Can be read standalone, but is part of a chaptered series

Part I: Catalyze

Part II: Flicker

Part III: Rise

“...and yeah, that’s...why I haven’t been keeping up with my schoolwork.”

You finished the sentence with a timid glance at the curly-haired woman on the other side of the desk. Her hands were knitted on top of the table, one of her eyebrows slightly arched. You understood why. Answering the question “so what seems to be the issue here,  Miss Y/LN ?” hadn’t been easy, and you were pretty sure it hadn’t made sense, either. 

Basically, you had just stuttered some disjointed, vague gibberish about "feeling a little under the weather lately". Aka, nowhere close to the truth. And now, the anxiety was making itself known. In the form of beads of moisture running down your neck, and your hands fidgeting in your lap.

Because you didn’t want to be here. In fact you wanted to be anywhere but here.

But once again, Yoongi had showed himself perfectly able to push you into motion and help get you back on track. Using his steady, encouraging flow of reassurances, and fingers laced into yours as he pulled you with him to your final destination. And now you were here. Squirming uncomfortably in a chair in the university counselors office, and discussing why you had fallen behind on your studies, all entirely against your will if you were honest.

Your eyes wandered over the neat rows of folders on white shelves, the piles of documents on her desk, the sterile academic environment. Run, is what your brain told you. Just get up, walk out, escape this situation – but Yoongi’s hand, inconspicuously resting on your thigh, prevented it.

Because he’d insisted on coming with. And now he sat next to  you, like a parent there to discuss his child’s progression. Clad in his usual uniform, black hoodie and snapback pulled far over his forehead, all in order to avoid being recognized. It worked, and you alone had the counselors undivided attention.

“So, if I understand correctly,” she started, pushing her half-moon glasses further up her nose. “You’ve been...feeling ill? That's why you’ve been absent?”

"Uhm...kind of..."

“I see here that you have a lot of overdue assignments...and you haven't attended classes...but it would be best if you book an appointment with the university healthcare, if you have a condition that interferes with your ability to study.”

Your ears heated up as you digested this information. A tiny, sober voice within you told you yes. Do it, open mouth, voice the issue. Another, more overpowering and toxic one told you no. Repeatedly, until it was basically chanting it like a whole firing squad in your brain.

“No, no, I don’t need to. I...uh, I’ll make sure to finish all the assignments, ma'am. Just been feeling a little...unwell, but, yeah. I’m fine.”

You ignored Yoongi’s pointed glare, along with his attempts to kick you in the shin under the desk. Your counselor expressed clear puzzlement over the sudden change in your narrative.

“Oh? But didn’t you say that you’ve been feeling down and experiencing difficulty with keeping up with your studies?”

“Uh...yeah but, it was just a temporary slump,” you lied, and accompanied it with the most convincing smile you could conjure. “I really am fine, and I will catch up on it. Promise.”

“Miss Y/LN...I really do think you should go see the healthcare unit.”

“No need, I’m fine, I’m absolutely –”

“She’s depressed.”

The sharp exclamation draped itself over the three of you, and the office fell silent. You slowly turned to your left, quiet anger flaring in your gut. And Yoongi, the bastard, was wearing a polite smile and blatantly ignoring your burning looks.

The perplexed-looking lady opposite you blinked about a million times in confusion, before clearing her throat.

“Is what your friend is saying true, Miss Y/LN? You've been feeling depressed?”

Your airways were blocked, by what felt like a thick bundle of dry cotton. You didn't get a word out. Yoongi decided to just nod in affirmation on your behalf.

"Yeah, yes, she’s...been down. Not left her apartment much and just slept and not eaten and...I think she needs to see someone.”

“Oh, oh dear...well, that sounds worrying indeed." The lady turned to you with a motherly smile. "I’ll book you an appointment to the healthcare center, Miss Y/LN. They can refer you to a mental health professional if there's a need for that...hold on a moment...”

She started tapping something on her computer, while she kept talking, but you didn’t focus on it much. You were forced to just listen and accept the documents shoved into your hands, with the appointment date and other information. Forced to nod affirmatively when she announced it would be next week.

Not like you were about to go. No way.

Once you were dismissed, you were fuming. You stormed out and over the university grounds, leaving Yoongi and the repeated stream of requests to slow down behind you.

“Y/N, fucking wait – jesus, can you wait!?"

He finally caught you, but you ripped your arm from his grip instantly, backing further away while spitting furious words in his face.

“No, I can’t! Why the hell did you have to tell her that, Yoongi?! You had no right to tell her I’m…”

You came to a screeching halt just as you were about to say it, and gathered yourself. Yoongi regarded you from a distance, his eyes like dark, tranquil oceans as usual.

Always so understanding, always compassionate. Even now when you wanted none of it.

“I’m not depressed. Everything is fine with me.”

You said it with steadfast conviction. Maybe, if you said it enough times, it would become true.

The wind rustled the leaves in the trees around you. It was actually a beautiful day. The warm rays of sunshine heated your back up, and Yoongi’s sympathetic smile was securely in place as always.

“Y/N...I had to. If you get to decide yourself you just dodge your issues and pretend they don't exist for all eternity. I can’t just stand by and witness it anymore, okay? Please just trust me. Everything isn’t fine with you.”

“Yeah it is,” you interjected stubbornly. You shook your head, shook it until nausea hit you and you just stumbled uselessly when trying to vocalize what you felt.

“It is, and I don’t want to go...it makes me feel sick. I don’t want to talk about it...I don’t want to be the person who has something wrong with them, Yoongi...I want to be normal.”

Your voice was suddenly saturated with hysteria and tears, and Yoongi was on you in an instant. Picking you up, just like he always did, collecting the pieces and patching you up again. You sobbed into his hoodie, and asked him, over and over again, why it was so hard.

“It’ll get easier,” Yoongi promised. He hugged you as you cried, while a warm breeze blew past and gently ruffled your hair and dried your cheeks. “It will. But not until you face it, hun.”

During the next few days, you spent a lot of time hunched over your laptop. Slogging your way through email after email, and doing your best to figure out exactly how far behind you were in your studies. 

Really damn far turned out to be the answer.

You did his best to fix that, finishing up half-written essays and projects collecting dust on your hard drive until you were close to crying from the effort. All of this happened while Yoongi sat next to you, peering over your shoulder and making sure the process was moving forward. But it left you exhausted, and the list of assignments was mile-long.

“I’ll never have energy to finish all this...might as well drop out,” you whined, face buried in your hands, multiple times when it all felt too overwhelming. But Yoongi wasn't about to just accept that. Of course he wasn't.

“Nope, you sure as hell won’t,” was his stern reply to that. He was like an impenetrable wall you couldn't bulldoze your way through, and so you remained in front of the laptop, while his hawk eyes made sure your attention stayed on the screen.

Annoying. It was, but you had to admit it was effective. After many cups of espresso and bordering-on-meltdowns the list gradually shortened, and you were left slightly less stressed. But you’d transformed into a wet rag at the end of it, a wet rag that Yoongi transported to the couch and kissed and hugged and showered with compliments about how you were doing so well.

And it felt good, admittedly. Even though he must be lying through his teeth. His arms wrapped around you also felt great, and his gentle kisses made you all tingly – but that was the problem. He was too gentle. Too soft, like you were some kind of fragile flower to be handled with care.

Yet another week had passed since your almost-steamy-encounter on Yoongi’s couch. Another week’s worth of wet daydreams, of imagining the two of you in scenarios that stretched so much further than just kissing. Another week’s worth of not daring to make the first move.

Because without alcohol flowing through you, you remained much too shy and insecure, even though he was your boyfriend now.

The desire you felt for him made your blood pump faster, made your lower regions heat up. Every time Yoongi held you, every time he sat next to you with his elbows leaning on the table. Because you just wanted so badly for those veiny hands to undress you. To wrap around you. To travel further down and envelop you, all of you.

But at the same time, you were scared when imagining it.

Maybe Yoongi’s vision of you wouldn’t match the reality, the you hidden underneath the oversized sweaters and baggy sweatpants you’d worn for the past week. Maybe he would just see what you saw in the mirror. 

Someone a little too gray and washed out, who didn’t get nearly enough sun and who lacked that rosy, healthy glow on their cheeks.

Maybe Yoongi’s feelings would even cool once he saw your body. Despite all the things he’d said for the past weeks about how you were gorgeous and beautiful and perfect. 

The thought brought you close to tears.

You just felt like an illusion, about to crumble anytime now.

All of this messed things up, and soon you found yourself in bed. At 5PM on a Saturday evening. And all of Yoongi’s messages sat in your phone, unread and ignored since a good 24 hours.

You were pushing him away again, and it was just a matter of time until the doorbell would ring.

It did, like an ominous church bell ordering you to return to the land of the living. And you dragged yourself over the same damn floor, towards the same damn door, mentally preparing for yet another lecture by the same person you’d let down, again.

“Hey there, bun,” Yoongi greeted casually, leaning against the wall in the corridor when the door slid open. “What’s up? Ignoring my messages again?”

“Yes,” you confirmed dully. Unnecessary to pretend otherwise, and you were aware how wantonly snappy you sounded. Yoongi took absolutely zero notice of it. He looked stunning as ever, the dark hair slightly tousled by the wind and hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans.

Hands that still hadn’t touched you where you wanted them to and when would they?

You slammed the door with unnecessary force after Yoongi strode past you, causing him to turn around in surprise.

“Woah? Easy with that. Bad mood huh? Look kinda rough.”

“Yeah. I always look kinda rough, if you haven't noticed.”

“Hold it right there. Don’t twist it into something it’s not. I just meant you look a little tired.”

He gave you a sharp glance, a warning that clearly told you "don't even try to argue". You yielded, heaving unhappily. 

“I’m sorry. I just...I wasn’t feeling well, and everything just felt shit, and...I couldn’t get out of it”

“Uhuh...that’s...kinda why you need some help, sweetie.”

“I don’t need help.”

You tried, but it was weak at this point. Yoongi closed in on you, raising a hand to cradle your cheek and sneaking the other one around the small of your back.

“Sorry to slap you with uncomfortable truths, but...yeah, you do. And I understand that your mood shifts and you want to be alone sometimes...but please don’t ignore my texts. You're making me sick with worry when you don't answer. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Alright, baby. So did you shower today?”

“No.”

“Eat?”

“No.”

“Y/N...that’s no good." He trapped you in a kiss, before separating you and giving you another look that left no room for arguing. "Come on. Go get showered or changed and whatever you need and let’s head to the shop.”

You huffed, turned and stomped off to your bedroom without a word.

Getting changed and going outdoors didn’t feel tempting at all. You dug through your closet, but once again there was nothing of use, because once again you'd failed to do the laundry. Because you’d been nestled in bed instead. And crawling into it again felt like a splendid idea now.

"How's it going over here?"

Yoongi had made an appearance in the doorway. He raised a critical eyebrow, skeptically eyeing the pajama shorts and coffee-stained t-shirt you were still wearing. You just stared blankly ahead, cross legged on the bed and not about to move another inch if you could avoid it.

"Badly. Have nothing to wear and I'm hideous."

You knew how that sounded, oh you knew. But you could do absolutely zilch to prevent it. Yoongi closed the distance between you, his gaze oddly dark, like a looming thunderstorm.

"Stop saying those things about yourself."

You bounced up, gurgling with unidentified frustration you just couldn’t seem to kick.

"No. Because it's true."

“It's really not. I understand it feels true to you. But you’re stuck with these ideas about yourself, because you’re seeing everything through a skewed lens. That makes you overly critical of yourself. Understand, baby?”

“Nope. You’re fucking wrong.”

Yoongi's finger on your mouth silenced you. He was right in front of you now, and he leaned in until his lips brushed over your ear.

"You're not hideous. Get that through your thick skull."

And then he pulled back, and kissed you. And it wasn't gentle. In fact it was everything but gentle. It was demanding, his tongue finding its way into your mouth and his fingers weaving themselves into your hair and his nails scraping over your scalp.

When you finally parted, your body was already in overdrive, your pulse crashing through your veins and your lower regions practically on fire and thumping almost painfully.

"Think it's about time I touched you, huh,” Yoongi pondered, eyes half-lidded and with his finger pressed down on your lower lip.

You just swallowed, whining something that sounded like "uhuh" in response. Yoongi's hands were all over you in an instant. He swung you around with your back facing him, and moved your hair out of the way so he could press feather light kisses down the junction of your neck. You were lost, to the unexpected shivers worming all over your skin, lost until you heard a request that made your knees weak.

"Is it okay if I take off your clothes?"

"Ye– yeah," you managed, without really thinking. There was just a split second of self-consciousness, and then your shirt was pulled over your head, your shorts hiked down – and you were bare, save for your underwear. You went rigid for a second, shielding yourself, but Yoongi untangled you quickly.

"Nah, none of that. Don’t do that. Let me see you."

He looped his own arms around your waist, and sprinkled kisses all over your exposed skin – your shoulders, your jawline, everywhere he could reach. And then, he spun both of you around. Facing the full length mirror, the one you’d been about to throw out so many times now.

"Look at yourself."

You looked. And looked away the next second. You saw yourself, the body you hadn’t studied for a while. You saw your skin illuminated by the lamplight, showing every little imperfection in unforgiving technicolor. And you saw Yoongi's toned arms blanketing you.

"Yeah, I'm looking. What's there to see? I'm, just...whatever. Just...meh."

"No. Not meh. Everything but meh. Stubborn, a little bratty, but definitely not meh."

He forked fingers into your hair, yanking you back to stress the fact.

"Or ugly. Or useless Or anything negative you want to imagine. I know you don’t see it yourself, but trust me, then. Can you do that?"

“Maybe.”

^^^^^^^^

You couldn’t, still – but you were coming undone, basically unable to speak, unable to do anything but succumb to Yoongi's voice and touch and tongue leaving goosebumps all over your skin. 

Your breaths picked up as he unhooked your bra, sliding it off and throwing it to the side. You let out a pitchy whimper and dropped your gaze as he cupped your breasts. One by one, gently caressing them and rolling the pink buds between his fingers.

“Beautiful. Beautiful and mine,” he whispered into your hair.

He kept one hand loosely around your throat, while the other traveled down your spine – down, down down and all the way down. There, he gathered one of your asscheeks into his hand, squeezing possessively and pressing his own, very blatant boner against your ass.

“This too,” he purred cheekily, a little louder, and slapped it once, very lightly. 

And you choked.

Well, nearly. Choked on the feeling of the pulsating, warm and very real body pushed up against you. It infused you with a craving that practically hurt, and you gasped in surprise when Yoongi’s hand snaked its way to your front, sliding down to part your thighs. He nibbled on your neck, while his fingers found your clit, lightly brushing over it and drawing moan after bated moan from you.

"You're hot, okay. I love your face, I love your body, I love your personality, you’re gorgeous and don't ever doubt that." Yoongi murmured, while stroking you through your underwear and holding you steady with his free hand. "I've wanted to fuck you for ages."

Oh shit. Okay. All you could do was whimper needily in response. The sinful confessions into your ear made your head spin violently – and that voice. Surely couldn’t belong to Yoongi – it was too husky, just oozing dominance – but it did. It did and it seeped right into every corner of you, into every cell of your body all the way into your fingertips and not least, your crotch.

And you felt like you might suffocate from the pressure. From Yoongi's fingers rubbing teasing circles all over you, his breath hot and wet against the nape of your neck.

"I want to see you too,” you whined, wrenching yourself loose and pawing desperately at his t-shirt.

"Sure thing, baby.”

You held your breath while his clothes were discarded. Shirt, jeans, briefs, and then he stood there, stripped in front of you. Not just a smudgy almost-Yoongi in one of your vivid dreams, but the real Yoongi. With a heinous twinkle playing in his mischievous eyes, his posture self-assured and his dick half-hard and smooth and...actually a little menacingly thick in girth.

You swallowed down the nervously flapping butterflies, and stepped forward, tentatively running hands all down his pale chest and around his back and his ass and absolutely everywhere.

You’d imagined this man naked so many times. All throughout your adolescence, and now that it finally happened, it felt like some trippy dream.

"God, you’re fucking...beautiful, Yoongi.”

"Says you.”

He grabbed you, kissing you and pressing the two of you together, with his hands firmly on your ass. And you heated up to scorching temperatures, while your brain was filled with only one thought.

“I want you.”

“Want you too. But we’re taking it slow.”

You grumbled, but he just briefly let his finger travel into your mouth, and smirked in response when you sucked on it like it was a lollipop. Then, you were hauled up and lowered onto the bed on your back, and turned into a shivering, whimpering wreck of a person. Yoongi kissed you, pushing his tongue in to drag it over the roof of your mouth, and continuing down your torso, your chest, your tummy until you shivered pleasantly underneath him. 

He mumbled little words of praise at you while he went, and your breath came out shorter and shorter the further down he traveled. Soon he had to tell you to remember to even breathe.

“Relax. You’re so pretty, been wanting you for so long.”

He parted your legs gently, wrapping his hand around your thigh and sucking teasing love bites into the sensitive skin until you were almost crying from the sensation.

“Want me to touch you, baby? Can I take these off?”

You curled your spine against the sheets, desperate for him to just do it already. “Yeah – yeah. Please.” 

"Good. Cause I'm really dying to."

Your panties slid off, finally, and Yoongi crawled between your legs, blinking up at you, dark eyes clouded with lust and tousled bangs falling into his forehead.  All of you was practically vibrating, filled with electricity sprouting underneath the tips of his fingers as he rested one hand on your tummy and settled the other one between your legs.

“Look at you...already so wet for me.” He spread you with a thumb, sliding it between your lips, and you whined in response. Not like he was wrong. You’d basically been soaking wet since that first kiss. “So pretty. I want to make you feel good, hun. Can I eat you out? Do you want that?”

You nodded frantically. You could feel your release literally around the corner, and whatever Yoongi was about to do to you would lure it out at record speed. He offered you one of his gummy grins, gripping your thighs with both hands for leverage and pushed his pink tongue out, dragging it all over your clit and making you cringe against the sheets. 

“God – Yoongi, holy shit-”

“You taste good. Fucking sexy as hell.”

You didn’t care about restraining yourself anymore. You allowed yourself to moan unabashedly while he sucked on your clit, and tantalized you by pushing his tongue into you and pulling it out the next second.

You hadn't been touched for so long, you hadn't come for so long . An eternity. And now you watched, eyes feverish, as Yoongi turned you into a slobbering mess in minutes. Your orgasm was close, and Yoongi must have felt it, because he quickly pulled back, lips glistening and cheeks flushed. 

Next you felt his fingers teasing your entrance, and he threw you a quick, questioning glance and asked, voice hushed and dripping with lust, if it was okay. You hurried to nod again, crying out when he pushed a finger into you, slowly gliding over your walls and filling you up, while his thumb rubbed against your clit. Settling on his knees, he threw one of your legs up and squeezed your thigh as he started finger-fucking you, slowly but surely.

You couldn’t help but wonder, amidst all the hazy pleasure, how the hell he was that skilled with his hands.

Probably because he was experienced. You knew he’d had kind-of-girlfriends, but maybe he'd even had multiple partners. That thought made you irrationally jealous, once again, and also worried you’d appear like a rookie in comparison.

But those thoughts were quickly washed away, for now, as Yoongi hit the spot again, and a pitchy whimper escaped you, echoing through the whole bedroom.

“You’re tight,” he hummed, gaze heavy on you. “How’s that? Feels good?”

“Y– yeah...feels great…”

Your neck cringed, your hands gripping the sheets as he picked up the pace, before adding a second finger. Soon he had two of them knuckle-deep in you, fucking you while working your clit while you squirmed against him to create even more friction. You watched him, his lustful dark eyes plastered on you, the veins in his arms tensing as he brought you closer and closer. 

"Yoongi...I'm gonna...c-come...if you keep doing that–"

"Well that's the goal, right? You're moaning so prettily, turning me wild," Yoongi teased, leaning forward. He positioned himself half-laying on top of you, so he was able to reach your quivering lips while his fingers slid in and out of you.

He kissed you hungrily, and you could feel his cock poking you in the side. You glanced down. There it was, all stiff and veiny and fully erect and – damn.

Yoongi wanted to fuck you with that.

You pictured it, and then you were done for.

"Coming?"

"Uhuh..."

"Go on, baby girl.”

Well. That did it. You shuddered your way through your release, spasming against Yoongi’s fingers and crying out a lewd and elongated “fuck” as you came. You faintly heard Yoongi mumbling something as you rode it out, and then you collapsed into the mattress. Completely drained, and with your chest heaving and droplets of sweat running down your neck.

^^^^^^^^

Yoongi pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, and withdrew his hand. "You okay, pumpkin?"

You nodded wordlessly, slow waves of pleasure still rippling through you. Yoongi sneaked an arm around your shoulder, pulling you against himself and squeezing you tightly. 

"See why I wanted to take it slow now? Yikes...you look like you just finished a marathon. Didn't take you very long.”

He nuzzled into your hair, and you weren’t even able to provide anything coherent in response yet. Soon he announced he was taking you to shower, and before you could protest you’d been scooped up and carried off, bridal-style.

The shower was turned on, and you were dazed when jostled into position underneath the spray of water. It splashed down between the two of you, heating you up as you rested your head against Yoongi’s chest, just enjoying the warmth and being so close to him for now. 

He pushed strands of soaked hair out of your forehead, and propped you up more securely when you were in danger of sagging to the floor. "Are you alright, sweetness?”

“Yeah...sorry, it’s been a while since I, uh…was...touched...”

You quietened, bashfully pushing your nose against his chest again to avoid meeting his eyes. He gave a little chuckle, and ran his hands all over your back in reassuring circles. 

“Yeah, I figured. That’s okay. Just take it easy, baby. I’ll take care of you, don't worry.”

Yoongi gathered you into his arms, and your throbbing muscles were soothed by the flow of hot water. But you also felt a rigid boner poking your thigh, still. Belonging to him. 

You peeked down at it. It was a little intimidating, but you were also eager to return the favor. Even though your tummy turned into slush at the thought of doing something wrong.

You swallowed down a lump, and Yoongi noticed your hesitance. 

“Y/N. Just relax.”

"You're still hard though, I can –"

"Yeah, duh, I'm hard,” Yoongi chuckled, and pressed a tender kiss to your lips to shut you up. “...cause that was hot,” he added, and your cheeks instantly turned tomato-red.

"But we got all the time in the world. I can wait. You're the most important, bun."

"Fine, ugh...okay."

You burrowed into his chest, letting out a soft moan when he squeezed some shampoo out and started massaging it into your scalp. Yep. You could definitely see yourself getting used to this.

[missfangirll]

Living love in slow motion

Fandom: SCI Mystery

Relationship: Zhan Yao / Bai Yutong

Words: 2248

Tags: Fluff, Pining, Idiots in Love, Zhan Yao is dense, Getting together, First Kiss

Summary: “I have loved you since we were eighteen.”

Read on AO3

“I have loved you since we were eighteen.”

Zhan Yao blinked slowly and tried to ignore his heart that had begun pounding almost painfully against his ribs. He swallowed hard around the lump that had formed in his throat and opened his mouth to respond, but snapped it shut again immediately. What could he say to that?

[Two weeks ago]

“Cat, we are going to be late.” The annoyance in Bai Yutong’s voice was very obvious. “Again!” He huffed. “People are going to ask why we are late together,” he teased, and Zhan Yao answered with an eye-roll. Not that he particularly minded their team gossiping about them, but there hadn’t been anything to gossip about. He wouldn't have minded that either, but he knew better than to make a move on Bai Yutong. They had been friends longer than he could remember and he had watched an endless parade of girlfriends march past during those years, but he had never seen any hint of his friend being anything other than straight. So he had buried his feelings under snarkiness and sarcasm and went on to study other people’s feelings rather than his own.

“Dammit, Cat, will you hurry up!” Zhan Yao had to suppress a grin at the tone and shut the bathroom door behind him. “I’m finished, you can stop shouting.” He stuck out his tongue at the other. “We’re not even that late.” Bai Yutong laughed. “Very mature, Cat. Come on, let’s go.”

When they arrived at the office – with 30 seconds to spare, Zhan Yao noted with a smug grin – nobody even looked up from their work. He nodded to Bai Yutong and made his way to his office, slightly dreading the pile of paperwork he would find there. They hadn’t had an urgent case for a few days and while Zhan Yao was grateful for the less stressful days, he sometimes caught himself wishing for a murder, just to escape his desk for an afternoon. Sighing, he sat down to face the dragon of bureaucracy once more.

A light knock startled him out of a daydr--, of writing a report and he looked up to see Bai Yutong standing in the doorway. “Lunch?”, the mouse asked with a grin and Zhan Yao nodded hastily. “Let me just find my wallet,” he said while digging through the junk on his desk. “Naah, don’t worry,” Bai Yutong said with a wave of his hand. “I’ll buy you lunch.” Zhan Yao raised an eyebrow at him, but Bai Yutong had turned around already, so Zhan Yao hurried to follow him.

[Ten days ago]

Zhan Yao couldn’t feel his feet anymore. Well, scratch that, he could feel them, but he really would have preferred not to. He was sore everywhere and he was pretty sure he’d feel even worse tomorrow. After running after a suspect for what felt like a week, they had finally managed to corner and arrest him. (He really needed to work out more, but he would rather bite his tongue off than admit that to Bai Yutong who had been nagging him for years about this.)

Zhan Yao groaned, toeing off his shoes and carelessly discarding his jacket next to the door. A huff from behind startled him. “Really, Cat?”, Bai Yutong mumbled and scooped up the jacket, putting it on the hook next to his own. Zhan Yao couldn't quite suppress a whine. “I am sore, Mouse, I’m not going to do anything right now beside laying on my sofa and not moving for a week.” Bai Yutong very obviously had to suppress a grin and just nodded at him. “Go, then. I’ll make you dinner.”

After that promised dinner Bai Yutong squeezed himself onto the sofa next to Zhan Yao, pulling the other’s legs in his lap. “What--,” Zhan Yao started, but the mouse just motioned him to lie back down. “You’ve been whining all evening that you’re sore. I’m just helping.” Zhan Yao bristled and sat up ready to argue, but sank back down when Bai Yutong started to knead his calves. He really could argue later, he thought, and closed his eyes, sinking into the touch.

[Four days ago]

“I just don't think this would work,” Zhao Fu said for a third time and shook his head. “We don't know anything about the suspect, why do you expect him to react like that? He has absolutely no reason to leave his house before the next delivery on Monday, all our research showed that.” He looked accusingly at Zhan Yao who had to fight his growing impatience. Because I am good at my job, he wanted to snap, but that probably wouldn't have convinced anyone, so he braced himself to yet again explain his reasoning, when he was interrupted.

“Because he is damn good at his job,” Bai Yutong said sternly and fixed his team members with a steely glare. Zhan Yao blinked at him. “He is the best psychology expert in this damn country and when he says the guy will leave, he will leave. We are going to do exactly what Professor,” he enunciated the title with so much emphasis that Zhan Yao almost flinched, “Zhan is suggesting.” He looked around. “Are we clear?” His team nodded confirmation in varying degrees of enthusiasm. “Yes, Bai Sir!” Bai Yutong frowned. “And?”

“Yes, Professor Zhan!”

Zhan Yao couldn't quite suppress the giddy feeling in his stomach and nodded firmly.

[Yesterday]

When Zhan Yao closed the large wooden doors behind him, he noticed three things. One, judging by the dark windows above him, he was yet again the last to leave the university perimeters and would have to bring the security a gift or something to apologise for their waiting for him. Second, now that he didn't have to worry about work and papers and students anymore, he noticed that he hadn’t eaten anything in thirteen hours and that Bai Yutong was probably going to scold him for that. The last thing he noticed, though, was a white figure standing just outside the main gates, leaning against a white muscle car and waving cheekily. His stupid heart gave a thump at the sight and he felt his face split into what must have looked like a goofy grin. Ducking his head to hide his smile, he made a beeline to Bai Yutong.

“Hey, Mouse” he greeted, “have you been waiting long? You shouldn’t have come, you know I always work late during exam period.” The other just smiled at him and stepped aside. “Doesn’t matter, I can wait a bit. Thought you probably haven't eaten anything and figured I’ll take you to dinner, that’s quicker than to cook something at home.”

Zhan Yao had to bite his tongue not to say something very stupid right then and there. How on earth did he deserve Bai Yutong? He just nodded and climbed into the car, a tiny smile on his face.

[Ten minutes ago]

“Cat, you can't do that. I’m begging you.” Bai Yutong’s tone matched his pleading expression and Zhan Yao cocked an eyebrow. “It’s a good idea, you said it yourself. We need a bait in the night club and I do look like the victims. Why can't I do that?”

Bai Yutong gave him a miserable look. “Yes, we need a bait, but not you. You can't be in there alone with…” He trailed off, looking away. “You just can't,” he finished not very convincingly.

“Mouse, that is not a reason.” Zhan Yao sighed. “I get that you’re concerned--” “You don't!” Zhan Yao flinched slightly and looked up, trying to meet the other’s gaze. “I don't what?”

Bai Yutong still didn't meet his eyes, stubbornly fixating the pillow between them. Zhan Yao suddenly had the very strong urge to cup his cheek and guide his face up to look at him, but smothered that instinct immediately. He wouldn't be distracted now.

“Mouse,” he tried again. “Mouse, look at me. Why can't I do that? It’s a good plan, you said it yourself. Why can't it be me?”

“Because you’re too important!”, the other snapped. “Because you don't have any experience in this! Because you’re you! Because I lo--,” he clamped his mouth shut abruptly and closed his eyes. Zhan Yao felt his heart drop in his stomach, leaving a raw and open wound behind. Did he just---?

“You what?”

Bai Yutong took a deep breath, seemingly steeling himself for that part of the conversation.

“I love you, Cat. I have loved you since we were eighteen.”

[Now]

Zhan Yao couldn't do anything than just stare helplessly at the other while he tried to get his roaring emotions under control. “I--,” he wheezed, but had to swallow around his dry throat. “But… but…. Girlfriends,” was all he could manage.

Bai Yutong gave him an unreadable look. “That is all you have to say?” He sighed and shook his head. “Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that, shouldn’t have put that kind of pressure on you. I just was so scared that---”

“I love you.”

Bai Yutong clamped his mouth shut and stared. “But, you never. I thought..,” he trailed off, still look incredulously at Zhan Yao. Taking a shaky breath, he continued, “I thought you were asexual.”

Zhan Yao blinked at him, trying to bring his brain in order. “Why would you..? No, never mind. But you’ve had girlfriends all through university!”, he said, and it almost sounded accusing. “I mean, I never thought you were gay,” he tried to explain.

The other gave him a look. “I am not.” Zhan Yao closed his mouth with a smack. Bai Yutong grimaced and continued. “I am bi, Cat, always have been. I figured that out because I fell in love with you when we were eighteen.” His gaze softened. “It was at a Sanda competition you accompanied me to, and when I won, you grinned at me and hugged me and said you knew I’d win because I’m the best.” He smiled at the memory and Zhan Yao groaned. “I said something cheesy like that?”, he complained. “Shut up. It was then I thought I wanted to see that cheeky smile every day. But you never even so much at hinted that you might be interested, so I…” He shrugged, uncertainty in his eyes. “I had a few flings to distract myself, I guess.”

All of a sudden, Zhan Yao felt his heart climb back up in his chest, settling there with a thump he was sure the other could hear. He swallowed again. “But.. Why now?”

Bai Yutong gave him an incredulous look. “Are you kidding me?”, he asked, the fond exasperation in his tone Zhan Yao knew so well. “We are practically married, Cat. No, don't give me that look. We live together, we sleep in the same bed. I cook for you every day and we go out on dinner dates.” Zhan Yao just could stare at him when a whole movie of memories raced past his inner eye. Both of them cuddling on the sofa, watching a movie, his head in Bai Yutong’s lap. Bai Yutong cooking dinner in their tiny kitchen, Zhan Yao grading papers at the coffee table. Bai Yutong massaging his feet. Bai Yutong defending him in front of the team. Bai Yutong buying him lunch. Bai Yutong waiting for him in front of the university.

“Oh,” he managed quietly.

“Yes, oh,” the other said softly. “I thought, even when you don't want a relationship, I could just show you how much I love you by being there for you. I just never thought…” He trailed off and suddenly Zhan Yao couldn't bear not touching him. He leaned in, his hand reaching for the other’s cheek, stroking his thumb over Bai Yutong’s cheekbone.

“I’m sorry it took me so long,” he murmured, and that was all it took. With a groan, Bai Yutong closed the distance between them, pressing their mouths together. Zhan Yao felt hot and cold all over, a shiver running down his spine when he felt the other’s tongue licking over his lips. He responded in kind and was rewarded with Bai Yutong pressing into him, his hand coming up to wave into Zhan Yao’s hair to hold him close.

When they parted to come up for air, Zhan Yao leaned his forehead against Bai Yutong’s and smiled."Married, huh?"

Bonus:

[An hour later]

“When did you know?”

Zhan Yao needed a moment to process the question, the pleasant warmth of Bai Yutong’s arms around him as they lay on the sofa pulling him back into the sleepy daze.

“Know what?”, he managed after a while.

“That you loved me.”

That woke him up. Leaning carefully on his elbows he glanced down at the other who was looking at him with open curiosity. He huffed a laugh. “Honestly?”

Bai Yutong raised an eyebrow at him. “No, Cat, please lie to me. Of course I want an honest answer.” He lightly nudged Zhan Yao with a knee.

The cat grinned. “I can't remember. I guess I have always been in love with you. I mean, you were the first person to notice the real me, not for what my parents were or what was expected of me. You just, I dunno, you saw me for me.” He shrugged.

Bai Yutong grinned delightedly. “And you say you’re not a romantic!”

“Shut up!”

[the-pontiac-bandit]

miri + sympathy

Miri had never quite gotten the hang of pranks, but she’d certainly improved in her years with the Riders. Her ideas tended to be less subtle and more absurd, aiming for shock that could elicit an entertaining reaction rather than finesse in the prank itself. While she could appreciate finesse in the pranks of others--Evin did have a particular talent for it, after all--she found that successful execution of such complicated plans required far more work than she had any desire to put in. Commanding Spiderdeath--and avoiding being pranked herself--took plenty of her time.

It was only the look on Evin’s face when she saw him last week in the mess hall that had persuaded her to try. They hadn’t seen each other in weeks, which was hardly unusual in and of itself, but he’d snapped at three trainees in line for supper and had failed to clean up the ink stains he left splattered all over the table he sat at alone with his reports. His workload had steadily increased in the months since Buri had officially turned traitor on the Riders to ride with the Own, and she knew he must be losing his mind with all but three of the Rider groups stationed at the northern border in the middle of the largest war in more than a decade, but even she couldn’t deny after that that he deserved to be taken down a peg or two. As the leader of the only group currently in residence at the palace, she’d known it was her place to take the initiative.

She’d brainstormed frantically for days. For all her creativity in cursing her ponies when they didn’t comply--even more than a decade after her first day, she still had what her trainees called an “adversarial and tenuous” working relationship with horses--she’d struggled to think of the right prank to take down a new commander by approximately three notches without ruining any critical paperwork, destroying Crown property, or getting herself fired. She’d started to suspect that this was all an elaborate prank on her from her group members. After all, she found herself the victim of an elaborate joke that threatened to ruin her sanity once and for all at least six times a year, but when she asked for their help with Evin, they’d simply informed her that they’d, of course, do as their group commander told them and left her to her own devices on the planning. Although, she supposed, that might have something to do with how intimidating they found Evin--for all that she thought he was a silly player at heart, with hair that flopped in his eyes and a propensity for wild and poorly-thought out gestures of affection for his friends, she had to wonder if he seemed quite so non-threatening to the brand new Riders who had spent a summer watching him wage a unique brand of psychological warfare that might have scared even Sarge, although he’d never admit it.

As she sat on his desk, kicking her feet against one drawer while she lazed back on her hands against some reports, she wondered if she’d gone too far. Certainly, Kitten had thought the ice slide was a grand idea, but Kitten was a dragon, and a toddler, and Miri would never have trusted her opinion if she hadn’t been quite so desperate.

It took ages for Evin to return from his meeting with the queen. She’d checked his schedule carefully with one of the Rider clerks, and he was expected back by the fourth bell after lunch, but the fifth was rapidly approaching by the time she heard footsteps in the corridor leading to his office. She used one of the last moments she had as he turned a key in the latch to check that the door to the courtyard behind her was still fully shut, apparently locked, and snapped around to face front as he entered the room.

“You’re on my desk because...?” he asked by way of greeting.

“Because last time I sat in one of the chairs, and you failed to notice my presence for a full twenty minutes.”

He’d been nose-deep in a sheaf of papers when he’d come in, a brisk fall breeze blowing leaves in behind him from the courtyard, and he’d walked straight past her. She’d been entertained at first, but it took a kick to the shins under the desk, after she’d cleared her throat several times, to make him realize he was not alone.

“It wasn’t twenty minutes! It couldn’t have been more than five before you left a bruise so bad my leg throbbed for weeks!”

“Weeks? My sources tell me you were fully healed not three days later when you met Sera Gladstone behind the merchants’ day-stables.”

“How’d you hear about that one?” Evin demanded, a hint of awe in his voice.

“I have my sources,” she replied with a pert shrug and a grin.

“I’d commit murder for your sources, Miri. You still won’t turn spy for me?”

“Wherever would I find the time? My commander gets fussy if I don’t have my Riders fully trained and ready to move at his slightest whim,” she shot back. “I thought your side job was a secret from the Riders, anyway.”

“If I can keep it that way.” Evin rubbed his eyes hard, smudging a bit of ink on one temple and leaving his cheeks ruddy. “Sometimes I think I’m one more late night away from cracking and telling the whole palace, just so George will kill me quick.”

“That bad?”

“That bad. I’ve got nearly ten daily reports to read and condense for George now, plus, you know, the actual war going on that Buri dumped me straight in the middle of, plus finding recruits for next spring when not a parent in the kingdom wants their child in military service, plus--”

Miri cut him off before he could get going. “Let’s take a walk then,” she said, perhaps a bit too quickly, with a prayer to the Trickster that he hadn’t noticed. 

“With what time?”

“With the time before dinner. You look like you need it.”

“It’s below freezing.”

“You love the cold.”

“And you hate it.”

Miri almost sighed before she caught herself. She wasn’t sure how she’d gotten herself in this mess, but there were three gallons of purple paint strung up above his door and Riders waiting with very precise instructions on the roof, so she figured she’d best get moving before something came crashing down.

“I’d brave the cold for you, sir,” she said, with her best, most casual eye roll. “My Commander requires a break, and I’m proud to be of service.” She took on some of his own airs in her reply. She’d discovered in their years of friendship that nothing amused him so much as her attempts to put on his Player airs, and she had a vested interest in getting him outside before the sparrows who had agreed to participate left for the page’s wing and their evening meal. 

He sighed as he pushed his chair back from his desk. “Well, let’s get this over with.”

“What?” Miri asked, doing her best to feign innocence. “Is a walk with your oldest friend that intolerable?”

“Miri, you have the worst poker face of anyone I’ve ever met. I’d actually like to rescind my earlier job offer, based solely on this performance. But if I’m going to get pranked, I’d at least like to make it quick so I can get at the reports you’re currently sitting on.”

His eyes darkened as he looked at the stack of papers beneath her, and he rubbed his eyes again. Close to him for the first time in more than two weeks, she noticed the dark circles under his eyes and the new wrinkles at their corners.

“You really are exhausted,” she commented, a twinge of sympathy turning into guilt in the pit of her stomach at the thought of the large quantities of bread dough waiting to cushion his fall at the foot of Kitten’s ice slide.

“I really am.” Evin was moving towards the door to the courtyard, steeling himself with a deep breath while he removed his tunic and folded it carefully on the chair behind his desk that Miri had avoided. 

The twinge of sympathy she’d felt was now a wave, engulfing her and threatening to make her do something she’d never have considered even a half-hour before: back down. 

“Wait! Maybe don’t...open that yet.” She hopped off his desk, wincing as several of the top papers follow her down. Evin paused, one hand on the door’s latch.

She looked around the room frantically for something long enough and found a poker, propped against the small fireplace in one wall. She grabbed it and leaped over the arm onto the chair where Evin’s tunic sat. She spared a quick giggle at his dramatic wince and then tapped the ceiling above her firmly, twice fast and three times slow. She counted to five and repeated the code for good measure--any good Rider plan, they’d been taught, has an out.

When she looked back down, Evin was smiling. There was a familiar glimmer of amusement in his eyes, one that had been missing for weeks. “What was going to happen?”

“Kitten had made an ice slide, and Johanssen and Norris are on the roof with some purple paint, and I had the bakers set dough at the bottom to cushion you, and, well, things escalate from there. The sparrows are probably gone by now, anyway, and I’m not sure that Onua ever set up the wooden horses, she looked so annoyed when I asked...”

Miri trailed off, as Evin started to laugh. She let out a chuckle or two herself as she watched him lose control in fits of giggles, relieved to find that her friend was still there, under the stress and paperwork.

“You’re going to be great at this, you know,” she commented casually, hoping he knew how much she meant the rare compliment.

“I hope you’re right,” he replied, wiping tears from the corner of his eyes as he caught his breath. “Anyway, could we actually go on a walk, now? I’d gotten rather excited to have an excuse to avoid my paperwork. I’ll even bathe in some of the purple paint, if it’ll make Spiderdeath respect your pranks, which are still absolutely terrible, by the way.”

“No purple paint necessary, but I do know the best spot in the night market for a good pasty, if you’re interested.”

Evin was nodding vigorously as he opened the door before he was promptly doused by several gallons of bright lavender paint. Miri groaned, realizing that her Riders must have rigged the buckets to the door and left for their own evening in the city.

Evin, though, was still smiling. “I’d still love a pasty, if you don’t mind the color,” he commented, holding a dripping arm out to her while he used the other hand to wipe his face.

Miri spared a moment’s thought for her clothes--she did like this shirt--but swallowed it as she took the offered arm and linked her elbow in his. After all, he seemed like he needed the night out.

[imaginexmeintheuniverse]

5 times you infuriated me and 1 time you made it okay

A/N: okay so the 5 times concept is something i enjoy writing very much, however i am aware that in this piece in particular, a lot of the ideas are underdeveloped and probably especially dont make sense with the ending when you look at the relationship, but please keep in mind that this ‘5 times’ theme i chose focuses on those kinds of incidents so there are a lot of other times in between (and i dont have the time or energy to turn this into a super long fic but perhaps one day.. ) so this is what happened!

Warnings: mentions of torture (like in the 7th when Bellatrix takes to Hermione)

Tags: @expellimarvelous and for some reason my hp taglist got lost so let me know if you’d like to be added!

↠↠↠↠↠↠

I. Bad Start to the Sixth Year

Your sixth year at Hogwarts seems to be off to a good start as you laugh and snack on sweets with two of your three your best friends on Hogwarts Express. Or at least it seemed like it was off to a good start until the train arrives at the station, and Harry is nowhere to be found.

Waving off Ron and Hermione with a promise to catch up, you insist on going to look for him by yourself. Your search leads you all the way to the other side of the strain where the blinds are conveniently drawn. You can hear a voice muffled through the closed door, and you become filled with dread when you identify who it belongs to.

Sliding the door open a crack, you see a familiar head of slicked-back platinum hair. You aren’t able to make out what he says, but you do see him bring down a foot to meet Harry’s nose.

“Malfoy, what the fuck?!” you burst out, causing the Slytherin boy to jump in surprise.

“Y-Y/N- I-I—”

“I don’t know what the bloody hell you think you’re getting away with, but you better get the fuck off this train before I curse you,” you snarl, shoving him aside to get to Harry. Seeing that he’s been petrified, you take your wand out of your jacket pocket and mutter, “finite,” to which your friend thankfully wakes up, blinking a few times. He doesn’t move much, as he tries to regain control of his muscles, and you insist he takes a moment to do so.

Throughout this, Draco has gone so quiet you think he might have actually left, but when you turn your head to meet his stormy eyes, you’re filled with rage, once again.

“What the fuck are you still doing here?! Get out!”

“But Y/N, I-I'm—”

“I don’t want to hear it,” you say in a lower tone as you tend to your friend, not even sparing him another glance.

Why is it that just when you think there might be a redeemable quality buried deep in Draco Malfoy, he always does something that proves otherwise?

II. Welcome to the Slugclub

“Okay, okay! I was gate-crashing! Happy?” He admits, trying to shake off Filch’s grasp on his jacket.

His eyes that used to be sharp and bright, have recently become sullen. They lock with yours for a solid moment before he’s ushered out by Snape.

Your eyes linger on his figure as he’s led away from the party— probably longer than they should have, but you can’t help noticing how thin he’s become. You’ve barely seen him all year, despite having a few classes together. He was never that hefty to begin with, but it looks like he hasn’t eaten or slept in ages. Other than his usual perfectly tailored wardrobe, he now wears dark circles under his eyes, and it’s impossible not to notice how the contours of his face have become that much sharper and his already pale skin has adopted a sickly pigmentation.

You and Harry follow the pair out, but for different reasons. You know that Harry wouldn’t be happy about yours because of his suspicions, but Draco looks like he’s crumbling under stress.

Eavesdropping only proves Harry’s doubts about Malfoy, and he then decides to rejoin the party as to not get caught by Snape, but you hang back, telling him you need to go to the loo.

You wait in the shadows until you hear Snape’s steps scurry away before approaching Malfoy who stays behind, sitting on a ledge. A half-smirk appears on his face upon noticing you like he’s been gathering an arsenal of insults to shoot at you, but really, under the snide mask, he marvels at how lovely you look tonight.

“Straying from your date with Potter?” he spits out Harry’s name like it’s revolting to have on his tongue. “Wouldn’t want anyone to think Potter’s lady is ditching him in favour of a more refined pureblood—”

“He’s one of my best friends!” You roll your eyes and flail your hands up in exasperation. “And how is the nature of our relationship any of your business?!”

He snorts, leaning his back on the walk behind him and crosses his arms over his chest nonchalantly.

“You know, I came out here to check and make sure you were okay!” You shout at him hands coming up to furiously push your hair back. “I can’t believe that for a second I thought that— no- but you—”

“You thought what?” His voice has become softer, hard exterior starting to peel away in your presence. He stands from his seat, mild concern washing over his features.

You shake your head, looking anywhere but at him. “N-Nothing—”

“Tell me,” his hands place themselves on your biceps, long fingers curling around your arms gently.

You fall victim to his intense gaze, getting lost in the grey seas of his irises. His features aren’t as hard as they usually are and the grasp he has on you is delicate; like he’s afraid to hurt you and you almost feel like you can let your guard down. Almost.

“Is it true?” you ask him, diverging from the subject and he raises an eyebrow in response. “Did you hex Katie Bell?”

He opens his mouth, and then closes it without a word when he realizes he has nothing to answer to that and you’re the only person he can’t lie to. That’s enough of a confirmation for you. You let out a breath of disbelief and he starts to panic, because contrary to the backwards dynamic the two of you share, part of him does care what you think. “Y/N- p-please listen—”

All emotion leaves your voice as you tell him, “Just leave me alone, Malfoy.”

You shrug him off, and spin on your heel, breaking the eye contact. Walking down the hall, you leave him there to bask in the silence and his dark thoughts.

III. Hair Like You

You’re already teeming with rage as you scour the castle for Ron, who slipped you one of Fred and George’s prank snacks that ended up changing your hair color. Running into Draco Malfoy, of all people, really puts the cherry on top of the shit sundae.

To make things worse, it looks as though he’s going out of his way to get to you when he spots you from across the courtyard. At first he squints, not fully sure if it’s you with the new physical change, and then tails you down two hallways, not giving a single damn how creepy he may look.

“What do you want, Malfoy—”

“It seems like you’re more obsessed with me than I had originally thought,” he snickers, catching up with your quickened pace.

That’s when it hits you, and you instantly halt, causing him to smack into your back. Spinning around to face him, your eyes widen in horror as you take in the familiar platinum blonde hair— the same shade you saw in the mirror earlier.

“That’s just great!” You throw your hands up dramatically. “Now I look like you!”

“Please, don’t flatter yourself—”

“Oh, sod off, Malfoy!”

“You know, it really doesn’t look that bad. Maybe you’re starting to have better taste.”

Despite knowing full well that that was Malfoy speak for a compliment, you’re in no mood for it. “Oh, well I’m so glad that the Slytherin prince thinks me, a lowly commoner, 'doesn’t look that bad’ just fu—”

“No! No! No! Y/N! I didn’t mean—”

“—ck off! Because on top of looking like the most insufferable git in the entire school what I really wanted was to receive a backhanded compliment—” And just then, you spot the familiar redhead with bad influences for older brothers from across the hall who you’re even more pissed off at than Malfoy.

“I don’t have time for this,” is all you say as you bolt down the hall towards Ron, screaming, “YOU’RE DEAD, WEASLEY!”

IV. Held Hostage

Hermione’s screams are enough to make you feel like you’re being gutted, and when Bellatrix takes her knife to your arm, you’re absolutely terrified. At least this means your best friend has a break from her torture. In the meantime, you nearly bite through your cheek to hold in your own screams whilst the saddistic woman spells out the hateful term that’s been thrown at you your whole life, carving it into your flesh.

After what feels like hours, the death eater sits back up, admiring the her work with a sickening grin on her face, and you want nothing more than to smack it off. Or at least you would if you didn’t feel like you’ve been drained. What you do feel is defiled; like your own skin is no longer yours, and the blood that runs through your veins doesn’t belong to you.

And Draco Malfoy has been standing on the other end of the room this whole time whilst his barbaric aunt tries to get information out of you.

The rest of what happens is experienced through the blur of hopeless tears your eyes are clouded with, until Harry picks you up off the floor after Bellatrix had pushed you and Hermione to save herself from the falling chandelier. A certain fire surges through you as you regain full consciousness.

You see Harry and Draco fight over his wand, and instinct kicks in as you lunge forward, efficiently tackling the latter to the ground. Snatching the wand out of his hand, you throw it to Harry. The blonde boy’s struggles are weak under your weight, almost half-assed as you feel the tension start to leave his muscles.

“Why?!” you shout in his face, grabbing him by the collar to keep him down. Tears well your eyes, but your gaze pierces through him nonetheless. The feelings of helplessness and emptiness are long gone as angry tracks burn down your cheeks. “Why—”

“Y/N!” Harry scoops you off him in one swift motion, pulling you to where your allies have regrouped. “This isn’t the time- w-we have to get out of here!”

You don’t say another word, and your infuriated eyes target the conflict and fear that resides in Draco’s. He’s left with the image of your anguish and fury engrained in his mind long after you disapparate.

V. Crossing Over

The Dark Lord himself beckoned him, and for a second you thought he might resist, but then his mother called him, extending her hand for him to come to her, and you saw him break.

“No!” You cry out as he starts to take hesitant steps towards the death eaters. “Draco, don’t do this!” His already shaky demeanor falters for a moment at the sound of his first name falling from your lips. “You have a choice.”

Steeling his nerves, he doesn’t allow himself to look back, because he would surely crumble under the weight of your gaze and the pain etched into your features. He continues forward, into the arms of a proud tyrant, and you swear your heart drops out of your chest.

Then, the whole scene with Neville’s heroic spirit ensues and you feel the fire within you flare up again when Harry tumbles out of Hagrid’s arms. Death Eaters that have been backing Voldemort start to disappear, leaving an unevenly distributed cloud of darkness.

Everyone else starts to retreat to the castle to regroup and fight as one, but you chase after the fleeing Malfoy family. It’s as though you have no control as your legs move under you on autopilot and as fast as they can go.

You’ve almost caught up to the trio on the bridge and can no longer help yourself.

“Coward!” You yell, trying your best not to let your voice crack, with no avail. It’s all you can do to keep the tears from spilling freely. Draco meets your eyes with his own that portray a boy who is terrified out of his mind, but you’re relentless. The truth isn’t always easy. “You’re a bloody coward, Malfoy!”

Avoiding your fiery gaze, he turns into his mother’s comfort. Not once do his eyes meet yours again before he disappears in a whisp of black smoke.

What you feel is rage, but with that rage comes with an added indescribable pain and disappointment.

+ Midsummer Night’s Dream

The next time you see the infamous Draco Malfoy is just over a year since he disapparated in a whisp of black smoke. Little do you know, immediately after apparating, the boy fell to his knees in the arms of his mother. He broke that day, and hasn’t been able to put himself back together since, contrary to the proud Malfoy mask he wears out in public. He hides behind crisp suits and perfectly-coiffed platinum locks. It’s enough to have anyone who reads the Daily Prophet fooled about how the heir carries onto a successful path despite everything that has happened.

But not you. He never could fool you of anything, really. So when you and your friends spot him taking a seat alone at the Three Broomsticks you know something’s up, because a refined Malfoy doesn’t just hang out amongst mere commoners like that.

“What is he doing here?” Ron spits out, red fury already starting at the tips of his ears and seething from his narrowed eyes.

As if on cue, Draco’s eyes lift from his glass to meet yours.

Hermione sends you a sympathetic smile before mumbling calming words to her boyfriend. The Malfoys and Weasleys always did get each other riled up.

Harry, who sits beside you, gives you a gentle nudge with his shoulder to get your attention and you can immediately read his expression. He can read yours just as easily and can see that you’re starting to get anxious. “Y/N…”

“Harry, it’s okay,” you simper, standing slowly from your seat. “I’ve got this.”

He casts a glance towards the blond across the room before his eyes come back meet yours, sending you a look as though to ask if you’re sure. You give him a nod and he sends you off with a comforting squeeze of your hand.

As you make your way to the table for one, you’re so focused on slowing your heart rate that you’ve arrived at your destination before you know it, seeing the shiny black dress shoes in contrast to the uneven wood panels of the pub’s floor. When you lift your gaze, it’s then that you realize he’s been staring at you the whole time.

“Malfoy.”

“Y/N.”

The sound of your first name rolling off his tongue lights something inside you— and it’s not pretty.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, your voice is steady, but with a strong undertone of something darker. Like the calm before a storm.

“Can’t a man enjoy a butterbeer on his own?” Despite him being absolutely terrified of you, he somehow manages to exude a certain lightness. You look at his untouched pint and raise an eyebrow and he knows you aren’t in the mood for small talk.

“Cut the shit, Malfoy.”

Recognizing the beginnings of anger in your tone, he stands as smoothly as he can manage and gestures towards the door. The last thing he wants is for you to snap because he knows very well what it’s like to be on the receiving end of your fury.

He follows closely behind as you lead him out into the dim lighting of Hogsmead. The summer air doesn’t feel as heavy as it has for the last week, and the sky proudly shows off the twinkling stars. It would be a perfect night if not for your circumstances.

You stop in your tracks and spin to face him so briskly, your forehead almost hits his chin. “You have one minute to talk before I hex you where you stand.”

“You always did excel in hexes and jinxes—”

“Fifty-five seconds, Malfoy.”

“Uh- erm- o-okay—”

You have about zero patience left. The anger thats been quietly bubbling for the last year has been on the brim of overflowing the second he walked in tonight, but so has all the pain and sadness you’ve kept locked up all this time. “You’re wasting my time.” You prepare to stalk off, but a firm hand pulls you back by your elbow, and for the the first time since the war, your face with Draco Malfoy. It’s the first time tonight that you can really see him. He looks worse than ever.

The silver pools that once resided in his irises look like shells of what they once were. And he sure felt that way, until he saw you. That’s when he realizes how empty he always is until he’s around you. My, how he took that for granted all these years.

Trying your very best, you fight against the urge to give into the part of you who still cares for him and wants to know the last time he had a good night’s sleep. You also try to fight against the water accumulation behind your eyelids, but it only makes it worse.

“What?! What do you want, Draco?!”

The use of his first name is the only sign he needs to be brave for once. Without further hesitation, he leans down to capture your lips in a kiss. Once over the initial shock, you give in for only a half second before you come to your senses and push him back, both hands planted firmly on his chest.

“What the bloody hell are you playing at?!”

“I-I- Y/N, I-I’m so—” Right then, is one of the few times you see what he’s really feeling on the inside be expressed on the outside. “I-I just-I thought—”

“You- you thought what?! We’d ride off into the sunset on the back of a unicorn and live happily ever after?!” You don’t care how frantic you look right now. You don’t care that the midsummer night wind is whipping your hair into complete and utter chaos. And you definitely don’t give a single fuck about how the drunk people stumbling by you giggle uncontrollably. You pause for a moment as you wait for them to be out of earshot, and once they are, you let out a frustrated breath and resume. “Did you honestly believe that you could kiss me, and then everything— all of the absolute shite of a mess would just go away?!”

His gaze drops to the ground that his shiny dress shoes stand on, with a few platinum strands that fall from their place. Those are the only visible signs of something amiss with the well-dressed man. But you see something else cloud his features: shame. The last time you saw that, which was also the last time you saw him, he left. He always left you while you were angry, enraged, and never stuck around to face the truth.

Draco Malfoy decides that this time is going to be different.

He has felt as empty as his eyes appeared for months, but when his gaze rolls back up to meet yours, you see the grey storms you saw when you first met him. Sure, they were masked by an outer shell that was brimming with entitlement, but they have now what they had then. Purpose.

“Y/N,” His hands twitch as he fights the urge to reach out for yours, deciding against it in favour of using two words you’ve been waiting to hear. “I’m sorry.” You soften, releasing the tension you didn’t realize you carried in your shoulders. The angry tears that stung the backs of your eyes melt to something peaceful as they escape their ducts. “I’m sorry for everything I put you through. I know I don’t deserve another chance, or any of the chances you’ve given me, but if you’ll give me one more I promise I’ll be better. Everything you’ve ever said about me is true; I am a coward, but I’m not leaving this time.”

“And what if I want you to leave?” You ask, testing the waters, more than anything else.

“If you tell me to leave— if that is what you truly want, then I will. Tell me to leave, and you’ll never have to see me again.”

“Okay, then leave.”

“Is that what you really want?”

“Y-Yes—” You stammer out a complete lie. Every cell on your body knows it’s a lie, and apparently so does he.

“I don’t believe you.”

More than anything, you want to fling yourself into his arms but you feel like your feet have been colashoo-ed to the ground. A corner of his mouth quirks up into a soft lopsided smile as his hands raise to thread fingers through the top of your hairline, smoothing wild strands away from your face. His touch is so careful and delicate than you could have ever imagined. He leans down slowly and stops just as his lips have brushed over yours, asking for permission, “I won’t if you don’t want me to.”

Syllables get caught in your throat, and channel themselves through you body as you move to slate your mouth over his. The sensation is so delicately mind-blowing, and it leaves you absolutely breathless when you pull away to lean your forehead against his.

All you can manage to breathe out is, “stay”.

The way your breath fans over his lips is intoxicating, and he’s certain he’s never seen anything more beautiful, no work of art finer, than the way you’re looking at him.

“I’m not leaving this time. Never again.”

His grasp tightens as he pulls you back to his lips and your fingers curl around the light fabric of his shirt. Every emotion and feeling accumulated over lost time is poured into this kiss.

This time, what you feel for him is something stronger and far different than anger.

[jewishzevran]

this heart is starting to come to life

So earlier this week, @cullenvhenan posted this about her inquisitor immy lavellan and cullen in a modern au setting, and i couldn’t stop my little goblin hands from writing it. i had to keep putting my head on my desk and take deep breaths because they love each other so much and they just don’t realise yet buhuhu ;____;

Cullen groaned, and dropped his head against his steering wheel, wishing the ground had swallowed him up on the walk from the restaurant to his car. 

What a fucking disaster. 

She had been nice. She was pretty. She was interested in his hobbies, and had been respectful about avoiding the topic of war. Yet, by the end of the meal, he somehow felt even lonelier than when he had sat down. It had been two years since he had left Eliza and that whole Maker-forsaken mess behind, but she was still finding ways to ruin his night. 

He took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose, sighing heavily. At least he had a couple of days off. 

The drive back to the apartment block was, thankfully, uneventful, and he pulled into his usual space feeling marginally less shit than he had done 15 minutes prior. Nodding to the security guard at the door, he checked the mail and then headed up the stairs. He'd go for a run with Mushy to clear his head, and hopefully tire himself out enough that he didn't spend six hours staring at the ceiling.

There was no familiar barking or tail wagging at the door when he stepped inside, and he frowned for a moment, wondering where Mushy had got to before he heard whining and sniffling from the lounge. Cullen took off his shoes and padded gently towards the source of the noise; when he pushed open the door his heart sank, because Mushy was sat in front of the couch whining and pawing at Immy, who was curled up on on it, knees pulled right against her chest and her face buried in her lap while she cried.

"Hey, hey, hey, Immy…" He said, walking quickly to the couch and crouching beside it, gently resting a hand on her leg. "What on earth is wrong?"

She started at his voice and her head snapped up, but she relaxed and sighed when she registered who he was. 

"Oh, Cullen." She said, wiping her eyes with the backs of her hands. "I didn't hear you come in."

Cullen shifted to sit next to her on the sofa, still looking at her with deep concern. He waited patiently for her to take several deep breaths, and felt around blindly for the box of tissues that he knew was on the coffee table. Mushy boofed quietly and nudged them into his hand.  

"It's my boss. Again." Immy finally said, wrinkling her nose and yanking a tissue from the box angrily. "Do you know how much work I've actually done in the lab this whole week? Ten minutes. Ten! He treats all of us like children, talking slowly when he explains the most basic alchemical concepts like none of us have degrees or training. I filled out my own appraisal today, Cullen, because he told me he couldn't be bothered. It's humiliating. We're fucking miserable, and all I ever hear is how lucky I am to work for such an esteemed alchemist." She rolled her eyes at the last two words, flopping back against the cushions. "I want to quit. I should quit. But I have bills to pay, and lab work is so much easier to find when you're already working in one, and it took me so long to find this one, and I…" She trailed off, looking at Cullen and biting her lip as her eyes filled with fresh tears. "I'm scared."

"I understand," he said, rubbing her leg soothingly. "It's okay to be scared. And it's okay to be angry. He treats you terribly and I wish there was something I could do to help."

Immy smiled gratefully, scratching Mushy's ears absent-mindedly. "Thanks, Cullen." There was a pause where they lapsed into comfortable silence, before Cullen had an idea. 

"Come on," he said, smiling and getting to his feet, holding a hand out to Immy. "Let's go to the corner shop. You need ice cream."

Immy raised an eyebrow. "You're the one always telling me off for eating dairy." She adopted a mockingly serious expression and lowered her voice into a terrible impression of his own. "You're lactose-intolerant, Imryll! Stop eating cheese, Imryll! Why have you got a milkshake, Imryll? You'll only make yourself feel worse later on!"

Cullen chuckled and rolled his eyes. "It's an emergency. I'll let it slide. Now come on."

Immy grinned and took his hand, letting him pull her to her feet. “Fine. But you’re paying, and we get to buy treats for Mushy.”

The sun was just dipping behind the roofs as they stepped onto the pavement, and Cullen found himself enjoying the short walk to the shop. He and Immy were content in silence, and he watched as she hopped from paving stone to paving stone, skipping and twirling round lamp posts, dancing to music only she could hear. It was nice to see her like this for once; she spent so long working, and the rest of the time stressing about that work, that seeing her be herself was a rare sight these days. It was a welcome change. 

Cullen watched her in the store too, chatting happily to the clerk, who knew them well by now, smiling warmly as they both entered. She picked out ice cream, and managed to convince him to let her get two tubs, though both of them knew it wasn’t a hard sell. She snuck extra treats for Mushy onto the counter too, which Cullen pretended not to see, and Immy pretended were a total surprise to find in the bag. 

When she sank onto the couch, Cullen retrieved her favourite stuffed toy, and the pink fleece blanket that sat on the bottom of her bed, and tucked her in. She tried to protest but Cullen just raised an eyebrow, which, accompanied by a boof and tail wag from Mushy, was more than enough for her to relent. 

Five minutes later, they were settled in their usual position: Immy snuggled into one corner, legs stretched out, feet in Cullen’s lap, with Mushy curled up under Cullen’s arm on the other side. Immy tucked into her ice cream happily and raised an eyebrow skeptically when Cullen picked out their entertainment for the evening.

“A chess documentary?”

“What?” He replied defensively. "It’s informative, on a subject I like, and not nearly complicated enough to require our full attention.”

“Fine.” She said reluctantly, nudging him with her foot. “You’re lucky I like you, Cullen.”

He chuckled. “So you keep reminding me.”

It was about another half an hour later when Immy suddenly sat up, eyes wide. “Oh!” She said around a mouthful of dessert. “I completely forgot! How was your date?”

Cullen groaned in response. 

“That bad, huh?”

“It was… fine.”

“Buuuuut?” Immy encouraged, and Cullen sighed. 

“But it was just fine. It was… boring, really.”

“No spark?”

Cullen shook his head. “Nothing. She was nice and pretty and I barely remember anything we talked about. And the worst part is, I think I knew it would be like that before I arrived. I’m not even sure why I agreed to meet her in the first place.”

That part was a lie. He did know, but he couldn’t bear to admit it to Immy. He already felt pathetic, he didn’t want her to pity him on top of everything else. 

She smiled at him sympathetically. “Hey. It happens. At least it was forgettable as opposed to disastrous.”

“Well, there is that.”

“You know, like that time you went to Joe’s Bar, and-”

“Yes, thank you, Immy.” Cullen said, blushing furiously and glowering at her. “You know I swear the reason no one has forgotten that is because you keep bringing it up.”

Immy grinned. “Who? Me? Never.” 

It should have annoyed him, but for some reason, he just rolled his eyes and shook his head fondly. “You’re impossible, sometimes.”

“Look, someone has to keep you interesting, Mr ‘I-Watch-Chess-Documentaries-For-Fun’”

“Hey, you were getting really into it before you decided to bring up my shambles of a love life!”

Immy just stuck her tongue out, and took another large spoonful of ice cream. 

They watched the rest of the documentary, then Immy found some ridiculous foreign drama to watch that Cullen had never heard of, and they ordered take-out. The next several hours were mostly spent laughing. Immy stole his glasses to do a terrible impression of him sat at his date, and he helped her brainstorm outlandish scenarios in which her boss would get his comeuppance, and she would be appointed head of the lab and given crown funding from the King to do whatever research she fancied, and make dairy-free ice cream that didn’t taste like garbage. Mushy posed several interesting ideas, which Immy listened to intently and rewarded him with treats for, agreeing with everything and pretending to take notes. They shared food from each other’s plates and Cullen gave her the spare dumpling in the serving of five, because he knew it would get him a smile. 

It did, and her eyes crinkled with delight as he insisted she take it, and his heart definitely didn’t speed up when he noticed her dimples, or how endearing they were. He didn’t see them very often, but whenever he did, it was a smile that lit up her whole face, making her eyes sparkle. 

“It’s okay, you know,” she said quietly during a period of silence. “That you’re struggling. With dating, I mean.”

Cullen sighed and closed his eyes, putting his food down on the table. “It’s been two years, Immy.”

“That’s not that long.” She shifted position, rotating to lean against his shoulder, tucking her legs up underneath her. 

“Isn’t it?”

“Not after what happened, absolutely not.” Her hand came to rest on his knee. “Stuff like that takes time to get over.”

Cullen felt his jaw tighten. “But I-”

“But nothing, Cullen,” Immy said, lifting her head and turning to look at him. “You’ve been through a lot of shit. You wouldn’t say the same things to me, would you? That I was taking too much time to recover or that my progress was meaningless?”

He wanted to disagree, but she was right. He would never say those things to her. But she was kind, and passionate, and she spread light wherever she went, and he was just… him. He turned to meet her gaze, and she was looking at him with such a fierce intensity it momentarily stole his breath away. 

“Be kinder to yourself, Cullen.” She said, quietly. “You deserve it.”

"Thank you," he said, his mouth suddenly dry as sandpaper, "for listening to me. It… helps." She was so close he could count each individual freckle on her face if he wanted, a canvas of constellations he suddenly longed to chart. 

"I'll always listen," she replied. "You're my friend, Cullen."

The silence that followed only lasted a few seconds, but it might as well have been a millennia. Cullen's eyes flicked to Immy's lips, and it felt as if the entire world was holding its breath. His pulse thudded in his ears. How had he never noticed how nice her lips were before? 

A police siren wailed outside, and Cullen cleared his throat, pulling away and rubbing the back of his neck, feeling heat creeping up his face. "Yes. Well. I'm glad. You're mine too. My friend, I mean."

Immy was blushing as well, looking pointedly at anything that wasn't him, and he seized the opportunity to disappear before he embarrassed himself further.

"I'm going to. Um. Go for a run. Take Mushy. It'll help me sleep. Okay. Cool." He stood up from the sofa like it had burned him and nearly power walked into his room, closing the door far too loudly. He leant against it and slid down until he was sat on the floor, groaning loudly and banging his head against the wood. He could still smell her hair. It would have been so easy to reach out, to tangle his fingers in those beautiful, thick, black curls and press his lips against hers—

Oh. 

Oh no. 

He was fucked. 

[cozywritings]

Stitches ch7: You Are In Love

Mid term week. It was only a week away, and you found yourself in another study room in the dorm building. They had a tv, speakers, plugs, and few bean bag chairs in case it was a group study. You’d usually study in your room, but it was so comfortable, and the thought of Shawn being just a few steps away was a distraction, you knew you wouldn’t get much studying done.

So here you sat, or better yet, lay, on the floor of the study room with your face buried in your intro to business notebook. “Why won’t my brain work!” You groaned, rubbing your temples and throwing a pencil across the room.

It’s been 4 hours in this room and you’re thinking maybe the lack of sunlight is making you crazy, but you needed to get one study guide finished. That was your goal. One a day, then study them over the weekend and until it was time to take the exams. You don’t know how you’ll survive finals week, but hopefully this was a good practice.

“Okay…” you started, “I have 2 pages left. If I can finish in the next two hours, I can still have time to- Someone’s in here!” You shouted as someone turned the light off. Not able to see you on the floor.

“Oh fuck, my bad.” It was Shawn. You smiled, sitting up to see your boyfriend, his curls a mess and his torso covered in a black hoodie. “Oh! Hey honey, I’m sorry I didn’t see you. Why were you on the floor?” As he spoke, he walked into the room, plopping down on the chair. You looked up at him, “Well I was sitting for the first hour, but it made my back hurt so I moved to the floor to stretch it out and try to get more comfortable. But that was 3 hours ago and now I’m still trying to study.”

He gave you a sympathetic smile, reaching over and pulling the notebook from under your chin. “Shawn!! I wanna finish this study guide.” You whined, reaching for the book and falling short. 

“Nope. You’re gonna take a break. I was headed to my room to play video games with some guys from my advanced biology class. You can come watch.”

You scrunched your nose at the idea. “I’m not gonna watch you play video games. That’s worse than studying!” He sighed, standing up and pulling you with him. 

“Then at least come study in my room? My bed is a lot comfier than the disgusting blue carpet in here.” He was right, and you did get a lot done. 

Maybe it could help to relax a little, and he was right. Plus, the heating blanket always helped you relax your tense shoulders. “Alright, you make a strong argument. But I am going to study. Will there be snacks?”

He smiled, nodding as he helped you shove everything into your backpack. “I just restocked the drawer. Come on smarty pants.”

Now cozy in Shawn’s bed, in a stolen Henley and your fuzzy socks, you were back to work while Shawn waited for the guys to show up. “Why are you so stressed about midterms? You know that they never make them as hard as finals.” He asked, sitting next to you and rubbing circles into your back.

“Because if I want to get this internship at Calvin Klein I have to be at the top of my class.” You sighed, thumbing through the flaschards in your hand to find the empty ones you still needed to fill out.

His eyebrows raised at the mention of such a high end company. “You’re up for an internship with Calvin Klein?! Why didn’t you tell me??” His voice getting slightly higher in excitement.

An embarassed smile made it’s way to your face, you didn;t want to say anything in fear of jinxing it. “Because it’s not official yet and, I don’t know, I know we’ve been dating for 3 months now but I didn’t think you’d care??” 

Shawn’s eyes widened and he grabbed your hands, “Are you kidding?! That’s huge babe! We should celebrate!” You laughed, kissing his cheek. 

“Shawn I’m up for the internship, I don’t have it just yet.” But he shook his head. 

Suddently his eye lit up the way they did when he has an idea, “I say we go out after mid terms to celebrate. Pass on some good luck vibes.” Before you could protest, three boys barged into the room, clearly not expecting you to be there. 

They all covered their eyes in fear that you two were in bed fucking. “Oh shit, did we come too early or something?” One of them asked, checking his phone. 

You laughed, watching as they finally looked at you, “No, that’s my fault. I was just studying downstairs and was dragged up here to do it instead. Someone, wouldn’t take no for an answer.” You answered.

They all gave a shrug and took place in the chairs and on the floor and the bean bag, Shawn perching on the end of the bed after stealing a few kisses. “You sure you want your girlfriend to watch you get your ass kicked, huh Mendes?” Blayton asked, opening a bottle of Pepsi. “Don’t get so cocky Evans, you’ve yet to win.” there was a few choice words thrown around while everyone got ready to play and you just sat back and watched.

About an hour later you had finished the study guide, letting out a small yelp of victory. Looking up at the tv, you were so lost as to what was going on. “Okay, I have no knowledge of this, but I’m pretty sure you’re losing babe.” The boys erupted into laughter. Both out of your statement and the fact that that’s the first time you’ve spoken since they got there and that was the first thing you said.

“Thanks honey. I’m really feeling the love and support.” He laughed, hunching over on the edge of the bed. You didn’t say anything, just put your stuff on the desk and sat right behind Shawn, pulling his shirt up slightly and trailing kisses down his spine, scratching gently the way he liked. “B-babe what are you doing?” He asked softly, turning to look at you. 

Giving him and innocent smile you just said, “You looked stressed. Just wanted you to relax.” You simply stated, pressing a kiss to his right shoulder blade and sucking softly. 

“You’re gonna distract meeee.” He drug out the last word as a plea, so you stopped and pulled his shirt down.

Instead, you leaned back a little and ran your fingers along his back, your nails scratching gently through his shirt and he let out a soft hum, relaxing back against you. Subconsciously you began tracing patterns along his back, phrases from the study guide, the profanities the boys were yelling, little hearts and flowers. But one phrase you wrote, you didn’t even realise it until after you’d finished it, “I love you”.

He turned to look at you, a shocked, yet quite love filled expression on his face. “Did you just?” You bit your lip, looking at his back. “Okay guys. Get the fuck out. I need a minute.” They all groaned before deciding they’d all go get some pizzas and come back in half an hour.

As soon as they left, Shawn turned around and stared at you. “Babe, do you know what you just did?” You nodded, smiling up at him. 

“I meant it. I really did.” A few tears coming to your eyes as you admitted it. “Can- can you say it for me?” You asked.

“I love you too. I really do.” His smile melting you into a puddle right there in the sheets. 

“I love you.” You whispered, reaching forward and pulling him into a kiss. He was quick to place his hands on your waist and move closer to you, and you fell back against the pillows again. Shawn mumbling soft “I love you”s against your skin as the two of you kissed along each other’s necks.

After a while he got carried away, reaching for the hem of your tank top. “Shawn. Shawn no. Not yet.” 

He pulled away quickly. “Oh, god I’m sorry. I got caught up in the moment and-“ but he was cut off by you shaking your head. 

“It’s just that this is important. I’m ready to try, I really am. Just not when I know your friends will be back any minute.” It finally registered in his brain what you said and you watched him look at his phone. Debating on calling the guys and telling them not to come back or just laying with you until they came back.

He chose the latter, nuzzling onto your neck and mumbling out another “I love you” then pressing a kiss to your neck. “I love you too.”

Friday night. You put away your last study guide half an hour ago and were now getting ready to go hang out with Shawn. Yeah it was just a movie night, but you finally felt ready to take things further.

So, in your favorite black lace thong and matching bra under your silk Victoria Secret pj’s, you made your way to Shawn’s. But when you opened the door, he was hunched over his desk, head buried in a textbook. His shoulders and back tense, his curls a mess, and earbuds in his ears. Which is why he hasn’t turned to look at you, he couldn’t hear you walk in.

You shut the door quietly and walked up behind him, running your hands up his back. He jumped at first until he realised it was you, turning his head to see you burying your face in his neck to leave a few kisses. “Hey honey. You look absolutely adorable.” he hummed as you sucked on his neck. 

“Babe it’s movie night come on.” you whined, trying to pull himout of the chair so he would crawl into bed with you.He just sighed, scribbling more in his notebook. “Shawn. You’ve been studying for days now. You’re tense and stressed. Come relax babe.” 

He kept working, “Just a few more minutes okay? I’m almost done. Promise.” You nodded against his neck, placing a final kiss there before settling into the bed and watching him work. The way his back tensed and his arms flexed at he wrote. It was so sexy, and he was just writing.

“Stop biting your nails honey.” You warned softly, watching him put his thumb in his mouth and then pull it away quickly at your statement. You pulled your phone out and snapped a few photos, saving one as your wallpaper after adding a few hearts to it. 

He turned to look at you apologetically, but you just smiled at him, blowing a kiss. “I promise I’ll be done soon and we can watch whatever you want.” He smiled at you, but his body was tired, his eyes dull. This week had taken a toll on him.

It was an hour later when he finally shut his notebook, letting out a loud sigh. “Oh my poor baby. Come here.” You cooed, opening your arms and parting your legs. He let out a soft “oomf” when he collapsed on top of you, wrapping around you instantly and nuzzling into your neck.

“Mmmm you’re warm.” He mumbled into your tummy. Finally glad to have your boy with you, you ran your fingers through his hair, massaging his head and the back of his neck since he mentioned a headache a few minutes ago. 

He just laid there for a little bit, decompressing and taking in the feeling of your nails gently scratching at his scalp. “Wanna pick a movie and I’ll rub your shoulders?” You asked, watching him relax. 

“Oh my god, yes please?” You giggled, scrolling through the movie options as Shawn pulled off his shirt laid out on his stomach facing the tv. Straddling his lower back, you started rubbing his shoulders occasionally leaving soft kisses along his skin. 

He hummed out softly, the stress of exams slowly leaving his body at your touch. “Don’t fall asleep on me. Someone’s gotta hold me while I make you watch a scary movie.” You warned, noticing his even breathing. 

You felt him laugh as he shook his head. “Not gonna fall asleep on ya, still gotta do your pressure point babe.” He’d been doing that at the end of every week for you. Your terrible sitting posture causing your back to constantly ache, but Shawn always helped you out. “Okay. Your turn.” He smiled, rolling over and making you fall off, thumping against the pillows. You unbuttoned your silk sleep shirt, revealing half of the lingerie you’d picked out. And Shawn noticed.

“Um- uh...that looks. Really good.” He stuttered, eyes glued to your chest and cheeks a bright pink. 

You decided to play innocent. “Thanks. Actually I was thinking you’d like to see the other half?” He nodded, eyes darting to the tie on your bottoms. “You can take them off Shawn. It’s okay.” He was quick to pull off your shorts, practically choking when he saw you laid out on his bed in the little black set.

His eyes scanned over the swell of your ass before he pressed a kiss to your shoulder blade, “Gonna help you relax. Okay?” He whispered before pressing his thumbs into your neck and releasing everything. Like usual, you let out a soft moan, closing your eyes when he rubbed out the knot in your shoulder.

However, this time, instead of kissing along your shoulder, his lips trailed down your spine. “What are you doing down there?” You asked when he got to the dip in your lower back. 

He instantly stopped “Is this okay?? I just thought we could try something.” Noticing where his mouth was going, you nodded. Silently asking him to continue.

When his lips moved to your ass, your heartbeat picked up. You weren’t scared though,  you were excited. It’s when they came in contact with your clothed core that you finally made a noise. It was a low whine that caused him to pull away. “Do you want me to stop? Was that too much?”

“No! God no. Please Shawn. Do something?” With your confirmation, he wasted no time in flipping you onto your back. His fingers curling around the lace and slowly pulling them down your legs, leaving small kisses against your thigh, you were moaning softly. Your back arching off the sheets pushed you closer to him, and he looked up at you for one last “Okay”. But the way your eyes were closed in anticipation and your fingers were moving towards his curls, he didn’t need to ask.

You let out a broken moan when his hot mouth came in contact with your core. His tongue flat against you until his lips closed around your clit. “Oh!” You hissed, fingers gripping his curls for some way of grounding yourself. His arms came up, wrapping around your thighs to hold you in place as he sucked gently. You wanted to watch him, the way he moaned against you sending shocks up your spine. But you just couldn’t.

Every time to tried to open your eyes, he did something that made you close them in pleasure. The way he was lapping at you, you were positive he was enjoying it more than you were. And when you were able to look at him, he eyes were closed, his tongue buried inside you hitting spots you didn’t even know were there. He was moaning into you as his nose bumped your clit, bringing you closer to the edge. That’s when you noticed it, he was rutting into the mattress. Fuck he was hot, and you were about to cum. You were right there. But you needed something a little more.

“Sh-Shawn.” You whined, fingers pulling at the hand around your thigh. He pulled back, chin wet from you and eyes wild. “Need you. Your fingers.” 

He nodded, watching as you sat up and sucked on two of them before laying back down. “Fuck I love you.” He groaned, watching you carefully as he slid them into you, curling them perfectly before moving his mouth back to your clit.

It only took a few more pumps before you were arching off the sheets, pulling on his curls and biting your lip to hold back a scream. He leaned back and watched you, smiling internally at how blissed out and relaxed you looked.

You instantly pulled him up, kissing him hard and moaning at yourself on his tongue. “Want you to come too. I’m okay if you wanna-“ he just shook his head. “I’m too close. Can I just-?” He asked, reaching for your hand. You nodded, letting him guide your hand along his length, smiling when he moaned into your mouth. His arms moved to steady himself above you as you pumped him at the pace he’d set, sucking at his neck.

“F- fuck babe I’m gonna cum.” His head dropping to your neck 

“S’okay baby. We can clean it up.” With your okay, he whimpered into your neck, hot ribbons of cum coating your stomach as he whined against your skin. 

“Oh my god I love you.” He breathed, chest heaving against yours, 

“I love you too.” 

He smiled into your neck “Let me get you cleaned up, okay? I wanna just hold you. Maybe we can watch a movie?”

You laid there, basking in the pure exhaustion you felt as you watched Shawn get a towel from the bathroom and wet it before coming back over to you and cleaning you off. “Hey, you doing okay?” He asked, noticing your silence. 

“Mhm. I’m okay, just tired. That was a lot for me.” He nodded, tossing the towel in the hamper. You watched as he put on a pair of boxers and then tossed you a shirt.

“I know this sounds odd, but I’m really proud of you. I know that was huge for us. And for you. And I promise when it’s time, I’ll be as gentle as possible. You have full control. But also, I’d like to do it somewhere other than this dorm where we’ve gotta be quiet.” He smiled, pulling you into him as he picked another movie to actually watch.

“I trust you Shawn. I love you.” You mumbled, the previous events exhausting your body. 

He tilted your chin up, stealing a soft kiss, his hand resting on the back of your neck. 

“I love you too. Now get some rest. We are gonna have a nice relaxing day tomorrow out by the pool before I take you to dinner.” 

You looked up at him, eyebrows furrowed. “Dinner for what?” His face turned a bright red when he realised he forgot to tell you.

“Oh yeah, it’s the medical department’s dinner tomorrow night. Like the one you had earlier this semester. I forgot to tell you. Fuck. If you can’t make it, it’s totally okay.” He was ramlbing, playinf with his fingers like he alwys does when he’s nervous about something.

You just pressed your lips to his jaw. “I’d love to go. Gives me an excuse to drag Emily shopping with me.” You said against his skin, closing your eyes.

He relaxed back into the sheets, pulling you on top of him and burying your face in his neck. “I’m so glad I’ve met you.” His voice muffled. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I cannot possibly thank you for everything.” You meant to ask him what you’ve done, but instead, you let sleep take over. As you laid there in the strong arms of your loving boyfriend, there was a smile on your face and love in your heart.

[blameitonmyjuuse]

For @austonandersen who wanted quarantined Freddie and Auston.

--

Though Freddie would never admit it, the NHL’s pausing of the season was not a wholly unwelcome idea. It was horrible, yeah, and incredibly frustrating because the Leafs were still solidly in the playoffs and slowly coming back out of their downward spiral, but.

But. 

It’s not that Freddie was exhausted, per se, but being the starting goaltender for a team who seemed to constantly hover on the edge between absolute greatness and the absolute laughing stock of the NHL could sometimes take its toll. Game after game, night after night-- sometimes Freddie did wish for a break in between wishing for better defense and a Cup.

For just a single night to pause, relax on the couch, and not think of an impending match where it would either be a win and he’d have to push himself harder and harder to get to the next one, or a loss and it would be him against the entire Leafs fan base.

He did, however, wish that a global pandemic wasn’t the cause of this break.

Nevertheless, the lack of people on the afternoon streets while Freddie rounded the final corner to his apartment, sweat creating a tacky sort of stick on his back as his final few moments jogging faded into deep breathing, was not the worst thing in the world. 

The Doorman tipped a professional greeting as Freddie made his way to the elevator, taking mouthfuls of water in and switching his AirPods into their protective case. 

The ride was short; short enough that Freddie was still half reading a Danish news article about new cases when he stepped out, and traced his way down to his apartment, and opened the door. 

He took a step beyond the doorway, half a second to read the sentence, træffe beskyttelsesforanstaltninger for at bremse spredningen---

And then stumbled. 

Damnit.

Freddie sighed and glanced down at the pair of black and white Nikes about three sizes too small and 90% too flashy to be his own in the middle of the doorway. They were no doubt toed off without a thought, even though their owners most certainly knew that Freddie would be coming in from his afternoon jog and wouldn’t be able to miss them.

He stared balefully at the shoes and stepped over them, passing the shoe rack a couple steps further inside the hallway, where two other similar pairs had been forgotten over time.

Freddie toed off his own shoes, took another sip of water and peeked around the hallway. No sign, so that meant the owner of these ridiculous shoes had ventured deeper down the hall and into the master bedroom. 

Sure enough, as Freddie passed through the entrance to his bedroom, shucking off a sweat-soaked tank top to the dirty clothes hamper, he noticed steam billowing from the master bath’s doorway.

“Matty?” Freddie called, as though the visitor would be anyone else. 

There was a pause and the shower water turned off. A few seconds passed and Freddie used the brief moment of silence to open his dresser to pull out a pair of black boxers. 

Then the bathroom door opened and a dark head peeked out, “Yeah?”

Freddie didn’t answer, just took in the sight as Auston emerged fully, hair slick and white towel tied haphazardly across his waist. Auston dragged a smaller towel through his hair, “What’s up?”

Freddie tossed him the black boxers, “How many times have I asked that you put your shoes on the rack?”

Auston grinned and ran the towel through his hair again, flexing his biceps. Freddie, of course, was drawn to the movement, to the way the muscle clenched and relaxed, before flicking cool his eyes back to Auston’s flushed face. Auston shrugged, “See, I meant to do that, but the promise of your shower was too much.”

Freddie didn’t buy it. When not focused on hockey, Auston’s main goal seemed to be driving Freddie insane. Insane, in several varying ways that both pissed Freddie off and made something burning hot burrow in his chest.

“You mean-- the identical shower to yours downstairs, in your own apartment?”

Auston shrugged again and scratched at the cut of his hip, where tiny rivulets of water were pooling and absorbing into the towel. “My apartment is missing things.”

“Hm,” Freddie murmured before shifting by Auston, taking care to pass close enough that he could feel the heat of the shower on Auston’s skin and smell his own shampoo and body wash on him, but not quite close enough to touch him. He shut the bathroom door behind him and pulled his jogging pants and underwear off. 

Showering was a quick, perfunctory affair. Freddie didn't let his thoughts linger or stray-- especially not to the boy no doubt making himself comfortable on the couch. If he did, he'd be in there for hours and Auston, who might just be the most impatient boy in the world, would certainly have something to say about it.

Sure enough, when Freddie was dressed in soft grey sweatpants, socks, and nothing else, Auston was lounging across the couch, face buried in his phone and thumbs moving rapidly across the screen.

The TV was off, like it had been since the PGA announced that golf had been suspended for the time being. Freddie frowned at the thought, but leaned over to swipe the remote from the coffee table. When he glanced back at Auston, Auston’s eyes were on Freddie. He wordlessly curled his legs up to his chest, and when Freddie sat down, taking up the space where Matty’s feet had been, Auston spread out again and rested his calves on Freddie’s lap.

Freddie traced a line down Auston’s shin in thanks and turned the TV to the NHL channel. 

They sat in silence for a few minutes; Auston texting and then pausing and texting again, and Freddie mindlessly drawing patterns on the warm skin of Auston’s legs while watching highlights between a Stars and Predators game from last month. 

Auston shifted and poked Freddie’s abs softly with his toe. “Mitchy wants to know where I am.”

“Does he want to come over?”

“He can’t. We’re self-quarantining, remember? Players aren’t supposed to be around each other.”

“Oh yes,” Freddie said with a pointed glance to the distinct lack of six feet between them, “Self- quarantining.”

But Auston’s attention was back on his phone. Freddie allowed it for a few more minutes, but as Auston’s eyebrow furrows like they do when he begins to start stressing about something hockey related, he sat up and snagged the IPhone from Auston’s hand.

“Dude,” Auston groaned half-heartedly, briefly trying to grab it back before giving up and laying back. He looked up at Freddie from under his eyelashes and the thing is--

The thing is, Freddie loves it when he does that. For a kid who had an entire dynasty thrust upon him, for a kid who’s had to grow up in one of the harshest spotlights in their sport, when he’s looking up at him like that, Freddie is reminded that Matts is still just a good-hearted kid. It reminds him that the quarantine isn’t all bad because it has given him quiet times where he and Matty can just be. 

He must be doing that intense creeper stare that Auston bitches about, because Auston was nudging him again, “What?”

Freddie wanted to tell him all of that, but he doesn’t think he has the words in either English or Danish to try and get what he meant across. So he shrugged, “You’ll see him soon. All of them.”

“I’m just bored. I want to play hockey.” Auston threw his head back on the pillow his head was cushioned on, “That’s all I want to do right now.”

The inflection Auston uses, the slight undercurrent of whine, well, Freddie has never pretended that it didn’t do things to him. 

It always had; even when Auston was a fresh faced nineteen year old who was just learning how much he could push before Freddie would react. 

And Auston knew it, whether he used it meaningfully or not. 

Freddie tilted his head and added some tone in his voice, “That’s all you want to do?”

Auston picked his head up slowly, “Well I mean-- not all I want to do. I- I mean, I can think of other things I’d be fine doing.”

Freddie let the fingers grazing against Auston’s shin drift higher, smiling slightly when Auston automatically opened his legs, “No, if you want to play hockey, we could play Xbox hockey.”

“Hm,” Auston hummed, lips quirked up at the ends as he pretended to be deep in thought. When he grew tired of waiting, he sat up, and Freddie had no problem using his larger frame to haul Auston up completely, until he could resettle in Freddie’s lap, either leg sprawled adjacent to Freddie’s thighs, “I actually think I just got a better offer.” 

He did love the sound of that. Nevertheless, Freddie let his hands splay over the stretched cotton of Auston’s boxers. When Auston smiled wider and let his eyes flicker closed, eyes draped loosely around Freddie’s neck, Freddie lifted his right palm and brought it down hard.

Auston’s eyes opened wide at the pop.

Freddie lifted Auston off and climbed to his feet. He made his way around the couch and started towards his bedroom without a look back, “If you had picked up your shoes, you wouldn’t have to wait.”

Freddie privately smiled when he heard Auston curse and stumble over himself to put his shoes on the rack. 

[curious-menace]

Blacklight!Riddler SFW Alphabet

ahh my baby, My au riddler . i worked super hard on this so if anyone is intresed in the au i can point them towards this for some idea of how he acts. i wanted to do a lil gif of him for the header but my laptop doesnt have adobe on it anymore =(

ah well.

its sfw but im putting it under a cut so it doesnt clog up anyones dash.

as always, if you have anymore headcanons or things you want to ask me, send me an ask or a dm!

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

So affectionate! Lots of compliments! But affection given like a cat, on his terms and usually at the worst possible time. Like you have a major deadline and he decides your lap is the best place to sit to read his book. Someone’s at the door while you're both in bed and now is the time he decides to fling his arms and legs over you and hold on for dear life.That's not to say he won't cuddle on your terms sometimes but he just has a habit of needing cuddles at the exact moment your alarm for work goes off.

Edward isn't great with words when it comes to genuine affection, it's hard for him to say things like “i love you” or “i appreciate you” . He's not big on letting people touch him either but since he’s decided he likes you he's going to shower you in hugs and hand holding. He’s very physical with his affection. 

 B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?) 

He's a very annoying and inconsistent friend, simply put. In his youth he was arrested quite a few times for his riddler antics. Expect a lot of late night calls for bail, him hiding out in your apartment and you patching is sorry ass up when he gets hurt on a caper, beat up by the cops or batman.Now, as an adult and a PI, he's still calling you up at 3 am but it's mostly so he can bounce things off you, ideas and theories and such. Only occasionally because he’s been working himself to the point of exhaustion and needs to crash on your sofa.

How would the friendship start? That's a good question. Edward has always struggled with interaction. Over the years he’s put his considerable intellect towards learning how to socialize and be perceived as high functioning. But that took a lot of trial and error, Edward never had any friends as a child or even until he moved to gotham in his late teens. you probably met in university/college, when he was 17-18. He was a computer science major before it was a big thing. He sold answer keys and ran tech support for some extra cash so i imagine you probably went to him for one of those two things and you just caught his eye. Maybe you gave some genuine thanks? Maybe you asked about the dozens of postit riddles stuck to his wall? Either way you soon found him coming round for lame reasons just to talk to you.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He had a rough childhood in more ways than one. When you first met him he was severely touch adverse. Like he wouldn't even share a sofa with you because you were within arms length. But now? After years of knowing him? He’s quite happy to curl up beside you, lie with his legs over you or his head in your lap. You've been kind, he trusts you with his space. He likes to drape himself over you. Being touch adverse doesn't make him immune to being touch starved. He’s making up for lost time so he likes to be in contact with you a LOT. His favorite place for cuddles by far is bed. He is always cold, even in summer so he likes to be little spoon. 

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

You know he never really thought about it until he met you. Edwards circle of people he genuinely gives a shit about could be counted on 1 hand. I imagine he probably caught feelings early in your friendship but they didn't develop into romantic ones until much later. He likes his own space so maybe he’d spend half his time at yours ( or a little more) and the other half at his. He’s decent at cooking and cleaning but I imagine you probably helped him get there, since he was almost non-functional by the end of his escapade as the Riddler. Since he spends time at yours he’d probably take turns cooking for you while you clean or vice versa. He likes to show off, cook fancy things for you but it only works out half the time.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Lord it would be MESSY. If you're breaking up with him you'd better have a damn good reason. He’d be hysterically upset and that’s just to start with. Next he’s going to be angry but more at himself for buying into the lies that you cared about him. It doesn't matter your reasoning , he’s going to beg for another chance. When it comes to matters of his heart, edward...needs practice and lacks restraint. Coming back from the brink, having to build himself from the ground up without the kind of resources most people had from childhood was hard enough, but now he feels like he's got to do it all over again without you. He’s going to be depressed for weeks and honestly? He might never get over it.

You would have to do something SPECTACULAR for him to want to break up with you. I mean astronomically bad, kill everyone in gotham, burn all his books and shag the joker while you're at it kind of bad for him to consider it. Assuming you haven't turned yourself into a metahuman in the process of this lunacy, he’ll just sit you down like an adult and tell you he’s not happy. He’s not unreasonable, if you admit you messed up he’s probably willing to work it out. if not, expect him to all but disappear from your life.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Again, he never thought about it until he met you. He wants to get married but i imagine it would take him time to actually propose. He wants it to be special, he’s going to wait for the exact right moment . But knowing his luck something will happen and he’ll just have to go with what he’s got. Hey, at least it’ll be a fun story to tell at the reception.

After the proposal, when you're officially his fiancé, he’d want it to be better than special, he wants it to be magical. He’s going to spoil both of you and give you your dream wedding whatever that might be.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Usually yes. Edward likes to repair watches and clocks as a hobby which is very delicate work, he has naturally gentle hands. You'd never need to worry about him being rough with you or at least not physically. He lacks a lot of social grace and can be VERY blunt but he definitely doesn't mean to be hurtful. He’s learned from being an unlikeable arse, he’s always first to apologise if he’s caused offence( sarcasm and gentle teasing notwithstanding) . Despite all that and however rare they may be, his words of love are always gentle and kind.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Surprisingly, he does! But only from you and only when you ask/ give him a heads up first. He likes to bump foreheads or bury his head in the crook of your neck while he hugs. He is liable to panic if touched in such a way by surprise.

Him giving you a hug/initiating the hug, is a once in a blue moon kind of event. You are his partner, he depends on you for comfort so he’s probably been stressed or upset to breaking point and unable to verbalize what he needs from you for something like that to happen. 

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

He's loved you for a long time before he found the courage to actually say it. Even then, he is likely to just assume you know he loves you without hearing it. He is most likely to say I love you under duress. It would probably take a stressful situation, like you getting hurt, to finally give him the kick in the pants he needs to actually say it. After that first time it gets a little easier but he still feels awkward saying it when others can hear.

Although, he’ll absolutely never get tired of hearing it from you.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Its hard to say. On one hand Edward likes to appear bulletproof. Nothing gets to him, nothing can undermine his confidence. But on the flip side we all know how deeply insecure this man is. Edward is a terrible over thinker, he does his best but reading strangers emotions is still something he struggles with. If someone is just being friendly to you, he could read it as something else and over compensate. Dropping a lot of verbal queues like “this is MY partner, theyre the love of MY life” etc.

I have to say though, hes not jealous or possessive by default and he trusts you immensely. He's just insecure and bad at hiding it, you’ll know when something is up.  Just reminding him that he has nothing to worry about is the best course of action.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

His kisses are infrequent and brief but they're always very soft. He always asks before he’s in your space( and he expects the same courtesy) so don't expect surprises. He’ll kiss you anywhere you like but he has a habit of kissing your hands. There's nothing special about hands to him but he just enjoys how soft yours are on his lips. He only enjoys kisses from you, he won't tolerate it in a social setting , like kissing as a greeting or between friends and he isnt fond of PDA. He’ll take kisses from you anywhere, but his jaw, shoulders and forehead are his favorites.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Uhh...he likes them in theory. He likes the other rogues children and has no problem with children in general or if you had some from another relationship. He doesn't really want any of his own. 

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

He’s a morning person and likes his routine. But that only really kicks in after he gets up, he’s quite happy to wake up early just to watch you sleep or if you're both awake, he likes to lounge around with you and just share his space with you.

Once he actually gets up, his routine is shower, breakfast and coffee while he reads/watches the news. He needs those 3 things to start his day otherwise he feels...antsy and uncomfortable . He’s used to doing those things alone and even with you around he still prefers it that way so don't feel obligated to bend your schedule around him. 

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Edward isn't one for loud parties. He will socialize for business or to keep up appearances but truthfully he’d rather spend the night in, with you. You could be doing your separate hobbies and enjoying the company and the quiet or you could be watching a movie, picking holes in the plot and pointing out production errors. He really likes  british game shows and quiz shows like Q.i, mock the week and 9 out of 10 cats does countdown. 

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

It was easy to see , even from your first meeting, that Edward had been through the ringer. You saw what a mess he was, but I doubt he’d ever tell you the whole story of how and why he came to be that way. He doesn't want to frighten you off, or even worse, make you pity him. Every now and then you might get a snippet of something or figure a little something on your own but he prefers to play his cards close to his chest .

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Edward has mellowed considerably since he was an angry teenager. He took a look in the mirror one day and just saw his father and that genuinely scared him. To him, getting angry is a loss of control, its unprofessional and it makes you do and say stupid things. So he took control and refused to let that particular emotion ever get the better of him.

He doesn't really get mad anymore but he does get stressed and sometimes that can look similar. He gets annoyed easily with other people easily; their lack of understanding or even willingness to try,really gets under his skin. I'd say he's only ever really angry when something offends you or his admittedly wonky morals.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Edward has an eidetic memory and synesthesia, he's going to remember everything whether you want him to or not, even down to the way you phrased certain sentences. Edward loves Knowledge and if you're his partner, you're bound to be one of his favorite things to learn about.

The only information he has trouble recalling on command is tastes. This isnt to say he doesnt remember them,  it just takes longer than normal for the information to float to the surface. It can make it difficult for him to cook since he cant remember from one time to the next if the recipe tastes right. He probably cant remember your favorite food but i doubt he’d forget your favorite restaurant .

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

I dont think edward would be able to pick a favorite moment. He was at a low point when you met, spiraling down until a few years later he was at the bottom of the barrel .but, you still stayed by him. You helped him raise himself up again and he’s cherished every moment youve spent with him since then. If you pressed him he’d probably say something really obscure that you dodnt even remember until he mentioned it. Maybe one morning  you were making breakfast for the both of you and the sun caught you just right. Edward was suddenly struck by how lucky he was to just be sitting there, near you, watching you work and having you in his life.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Edward is pretty protective but he’s not an imposing man, he keeps people away with his words and personality. He’s kept a few tools from his Riddler days, he can be manipulative or emotionally violent but it’s rarely unwarranted. 

He’d never admit it to anyone but you, but he needs more protection than anyone could know. Like I said, he tries so hard to appear bulletproof, unshakeable,but that is absolutely exhausting. Some days he just can't do it on his own. He’s only had a couple of panic attacks in all the years you've known him but you're usually the first person he calls, you're the best at helping him calm down.

If you want to get really deep, then you should know that just by being with him, you're protecting him from what might have happened if he’d never met you.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He really tries, with everything. But often you wish he wouldn't. Edward stresses himself out to the point he can't enjoy whatever it is he had planned for the both of you because he’s so hyper fixated on making it perfect, exactly like he had it in his head.  It never goes that way and it often ends in tears. But i suppose as long as youre someone who isnt easily disappointed, someone who doesn't mind just going with the flow after plans fall through you should be fine.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Edward can be very petty. He does a lot of things out of spite and just to annoy others or get back at them for some perceived slight. He's definitely not as bad as he used to be but hes still not above buying the last of something just because the person behind him in line was rude to him and they wanted it.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Edward was a bit unaware of how attractive people found him until well into his adult years. Being asexual, he never really thought about himself in that regard until people started paying him complements . Then? Oh boy he really started taking advantage of it. He’s not vain in the way that he spends all day checking out his own reflection in a mirror but he always starts his day immaculate and does everything to keep it that way. 

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Edward was, and to an extent still is a little love starved. His childhood left a hole in his heart that has been difficult to fill even with your help. It’s unlikely he’ll feel whole even with you but he’s still 100% better off with you in his life than without.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Edward loves scavenger hunts. It's a chance for him to explore, use his navigation skills and generally show off how smart he is. In Arkham he was put in charge of the easter egg scavenger hunt. He was great at it but they had to call it off after a few years when he gave some of his least favorite people a map for the hedge maze that just went round and round in circles . It took several hours and some sniffer dogs to get them out of there.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Despite his quirks and excentricities , edward is quite tolerant of most things in a partner. He despises loud noises; i feel he’d have a hard time with a loud partner but what he really couldnt stand is someone who doesnt get the need to be quiet at times.

In general,he has a pretty deep seated dislike of corporations committing crimes. He and Lonnie Machin (anarky) would probably get along quite well. Petty crimes are unimportant to him but he hates when people at the top are screwing over the little people. Someone stealing from the supermarket? Thats fine by him. Lex corp stealing corporate secrets from a small business? Not on his watch.

Again, he's not doing this out of some great moral virtue and he’s probably more proud of it that he should be, but he takes GREAT joy in knocking these people down a few pegs with hacking and blackmail. He just likes to see the underdogs win sometimes.

 Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Edward likes to sleep with someone or something. His family didnt have much money so he had to share a bed with his sibling until he was about 10. He really enjoys his own space, he has his own king sized bed now but he still sleeps better, more soundly and for longer when he’s sharing with someone. If its you he’s sleeping with, expect to be used as a pillow and to never have use of your arms because he’s lying on them.