#i came up with this au months ago and have been slowly chipping at it

[nezuscribe]

𝖔𝖓𝖑𝖞 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖘 𝖑𝖊𝖋𝖙 𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖛𝖊

summary: when a disease turns the world into an apocalyptic landscape, you join a group in order to survive. you find yourself drawn to a certain blue-eyed man for no explainable reason. though the two of you have your own pasts to deal with, the two of you grow closer and closer together. after all, it seems as though you’re the only lovers left alive

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader

genre: post apocalypse au, strangers to friends to lovers, slight angst, fluff, smut, some hurt comfort, inspired by some of the events from the last of us

word count: 16k+

warnings: 18+ mdni, some heavy-ish themes, mentions of suicide, smut, heavy making out, fingering, vaginal penetration, cum eating, slight begging, gojo is a teeny bit of a dick but overall just doesn’t know how to handle emotions

note: i did take some inspo from the last of us, so if you see something you might recognize, it’s because i most likely based something off of it. nothing too major though, but the infected here are like the ones in the game/show. i don’t want any comments saying i stole the idea bc i stg i’ll just combust 

also a thank you for @jadeisthirsting​ for beta-reading again, love her!

You were glad that chocolate bars survived the apocalypse. 

Those, along with chips (you don’t look at expiration dates anymore), crackers, and protein bars seemed to stand the tests of time. 

The abandoned convenience store was harshly run down. The glass was shattered, and you could hear the crunch of shards underneath your boots whenever you walked up and down the aisles. Vegetation took reign in most of the area, and vines grew alongside the walls and the counters. Weeds sprung through the cracks in the floor and long blades of grass peeked in from the outside. 

A lot of the aisles were already ransacked from those who came before, but you had to admit that this place was in much better condition food-wise than all the others you had seen. You loaded your cart with whatever you could find; cereal, bars, chips, instant ramen, jerky, really anything that wasn’t perishable by your standards. 

You also made sure to stock up on medical supplies while you were here. Antiseptic, rolls of bandages, needles for stitching, medical tape. You were able to find a bottle of disinfectant and some rubbing alcohol, so you spent a couple of minutes cheering over the small victory. 

The rays of sun that peeked through and washed out certain parts of the store a quiet orange made it seem more serene than it actually was, and you took your time as you leaned on the cart handle, walking slowly as you tried to pretend like you were just shopping for amenities like you would years ago, without the fear of the outside world trying to hunt you down the moment you stepped out. 

Under your breath you hummed a soft tune, letting your fingers run over the empty shelves as you looked around. 

Many opened boxes littered the ground. None of them were to your benefit so you just stepped over them, tapping something on your arm to keep your mind busy. It was only noon, so you had a couple of hours to waste before it got dark.

Though you had the hunting rifle near you in case anything popped out in front of you, you liked to pretend that there was no danger when you rounded a corner. It saved a little naive part of your mind to imagine that everything was normal when you knew that it wasn’t.  

“...yeah, no, no, I agree, I just…” 

You stopped in your tracks, air hitching in your throat as you went rigid upon hearing the muffled voices. 

“I heard the bunkers in Kyoto and Osaka fell…radio transmission,” It was a female voice, that much you could make out. But assessing the sound of feet shuffling on the floor and the other sounds, you knew there had two be at least two people, maybe even more. 

You couldn’t even remember the last time you had heard somebody speak. You tried to remember, raking your mind for when it was, and it must have been months ago, maybe even a year, and that was just a small encounter. You doubted the guy even saw you. And this is far worse, they closed and you have nowhere to hide without making a sound. They could be raiders or scavengers. One of them could be infected without the other's knowledge. Millions of thoughts ran through your head as you tried to rationalize with yourself.

“What happened to the one in Nara?” This time it was a male voice, and much closer than before. They were probably only a few aisles away until they reached you. You could feel your heart beating uncontrollably fast, rattling against your ribcage as your mind faltered on what to you. 

“They’re not letting people inside. They deter anybody unless you have a pre-bought cabin there.” The first woman replied, and you could hear some glass clanking as she kicked an empty beer bottle (from what you could deduce), across the floor. 

“How do you know so much?” Another male asked. Three so far, you made a mental note as you tried shoving all your food and things in any pocket you could find, shoving the big bottle of rubbing alcohol down your shirt to nestle on your bra. You didn’t risk your life trying to find this place just to have some strangers take the things you so desperately need.

“They play messages on the radio at night. If you didn’t go to sleep so fuckin’ fast you might hear something useful.” The first girl said, but there was no bite to her voice. She even chuckled, and you swore one of the other guys laughed too. 

“Why can’t we just stay where we are? We haven’t seen any infected here.” Four. This time it was another girl's voice. So far, two females and two males. You were severely outnumbered. You doubted you were that skilled, even in all your years, to surpass four people.  

Deciding to leave a few bars behind, you gingerly moved past the cart, making sure not to make a sound as you tiptoed across the broken bottles and glass. You held your breath and tried to hold onto your jacket, not wanting anything to fall out. 

You tried to phase out whatever they were saying so you could stay focused. You squinted your eyes as rays of the sun blinded you when they peeked through some cracks in the ceiling. You shuffled slowly and precisely, your heart quite literally beating in your throat as moved around the debris on the floor. 

You could see the double doors, both open as you let out an inaudible sigh of relief when you saw them, a promise that you weren’t going to die right here when-

CRUNCH.

You stopped, eyes slowly falling down to the comically large piece of glass under your foot, now shattered into a million pieces as you stop breathing. You wait for abated second, thinking nobody heard until you heard some clattering coming from behind you. 

“What the fuck was that?” One of the girls asked, her laughter long gone from her voice as her question rang through the store. 

“I don’t know…wait here…”

You could run, it wasn’t that far to the door, but you were frozen in your place. It was like when…you couldn’t even think about it. Your mind blanked, your limbs not moving despite your brain willing them to do something, anything.

It felt like that day all over again, the weakness and fear that overtook your mind and body as you shook, your legs cramping, your hands shivering as your eyes darted around, your lips clamped between your teeth as blood roared in your ears. 

You wondered if you’d been faster or more agile something may have gone differently. But really, no matter what you were wouldn’t have altered the fact that you saw a blur of clothes from your peripheral, craning to look to your right as your eyes meet bright blue ones. 

Your brows furrowed when the two of you locked eyes, your chests moving up and down as you looked at the weapon in his hand, drawn out, pointing at your head as you blinked, mind going into overdrive as you let out a heavy sigh of air.

He looked angelic and you wanted to smack yourself for that being your first thought. His hair was artic white, tainted a bright yellow as the sun shined over him. He had a sturdy jaw and a tall frame. Long and delicate fingers clutching onto a weapon, getting ready to pull it out the moment he saw you. 

Sure, you could blame it on the fact that you hadn’t seen a man for over three years, but you knew that even despite your blurry and confused judgment he was better looking than most of the guys you’ve seen most of your life. 

There were a few seconds where neither of you said anything, not really knowing what to say as you shifted ever so slightly on your left foot, not knowing if you ran to the door he’d shoot you in the process. 

“Satoru?” A girl came in from behind him, looking at him and then to where his gaze fell until she saw you, a small aurora of surprise taking over her features. 

“Stay with Geto,” The man said, his voice harsh as his eyes narrowed on you, his face unreadable but cold nonetheless as his focus never left your every tiny motion. Taking in all of your features, your clothes, your skin, your eyes. Anything that could give away that you were infected. 

Your eyes darted from him to the girl to his side, not knowing who to look at. The person with the gun pointed at you or the one who stared at you as if you were an artifact, a token she hadn’t seen before. 

“I’m not a threat,” You say after a couple more seconds of unbearable silence, your voice hoarse from barely using it anymore. You rub at your throat, wincing a little as you put your arms up to show that you have nothing in your hands, “I swear I’ll just leave and nothing else.” 

The girl stayed where she was, gnawing on her lip as she shoved the man's arms with hers. 

“She seems fine-” 

“Seems doesn’t mean she’s not infected.” He snapped, never taking his eyes away from you as he pulled his elbow away from her grasp. His voice had a bite to it, sending chills that traveled down your spine. He had no emotion on his face, clear of anything human. 

“I-I’m not infected.” You retaliate, taking a tentative step forward, watching as his grip on his gun became tighter, and taking a step back as he pushed the girl behind him. You put your arms up again, worried you were playing with fate as you slowly and carefully put your bare arms under a ray of light, making sure he could see your actions. You tugged on your sleeves, pulled down the collar of your shirt, and showed him your calves, anything to prove that you weren’t bitten. 

“See…?” 

You waited, his stare jumping from your face to your arm, different gears in his head turning as he debated what to do. 

“‘Toru, she’s not infected,” The girl said, trying to nudge his hand so he’d lower the weapon, “She’s right, she’d be in pain right now if she was.” 

But he didn’t move, his jaw ticking as he shook his head, seemingly still not believing you.

“How do I know you all aren’t infected?” You snapped, angry, as you tried to hide the quiver in your voice. They could be and they’re doing well to hide it. 

“We’re not.” He said, his voice steady, confident, and not carrying any trace of a lie.

“What’s taking so long?” Another voice joined the three of you, a man, the same in height as the one in front of you as he clasped a hand on his shoulder, his brow cocking in surprise when he saw you. His hair was a stark black, pulled into a bun behind his head. Some strands had escaped and fallen out. He seemed far more easygoing than the man next to him, though. His eyes were brighter and his smile was genuine. He looked over to the side as the girl shrugged, worry lacing her features as he drummed his fingers in her arm. He looked back at you, giving you a tiny smile, “What’s your name sweetheart?”

“Doesn’t matter if you’d just let me go.” You said, your voice mirroring the white-haired man, the new guy’s lips pulling into a little grin as he let out a deep laugh.

“Drop the gun ‘Toru, she’s fine.” The new guy said with a laugh, stepping forward as you took one back, your lungs squeezing together tightly as you went to grab the weapon strapped on your back.

He raised his hands as you had seconds ago, trying to show that he wasn’t intending any harm as he took another step forward. The playful look he had on his face melted away, forming to something softer as he took in the cuts that littered your cheek and knew, the way your eyes darted from his hands to his face to detect any danger. 

“Hello,” He started with a careful smile, not wanting to scare you off, “I’m Geto, but my friends call me Suguru,” He pointed to the girl behind him, “Vera even calls me dumb bitch-”

“Only when I’m mad!” She argued, shooting you an apologetic and embarrassed smile when she realized you were there too, and he snorted, continuing. 

“And the blue-eyed freak is Satoru. Anna’s back there, somewhere. Swear we don’t mean any harm. He’s just,” He glanced behind him at the man who was slowly lowering the gun, his face still clearly telling that he was weary of you, “Cautious.” 

He held out his hand, far larger than yours, for a shake. 

You tilted your head to the side, eyes squinting a little bit as you tried to make out just what he was trying to do.

But you dropped your hand from grasping onto the leather strap of your weapon, your fingers stretching, itching for some human contact as you debated for a little bit. Surely but slowly you brought your hand to his, softly clutching it to see a smile overtake his features. 

“Y/n,” You reciprocate with a small smile of your own, your chapped lips not used to the feeling. His fingers were long as they overtook yours, calloused, but human. They gave yours a gentle squeeze, almost as if he could tell, and you have one back. Something that you never realized you had missed up until this very moment, “My name’s y/n.”

He said your name once under his breath to commit it to memory. 

“You going anywhere specific?” He asked, his hands crossed across his chest as he waited patiently for you to answer. 

You swallowed dryly, in desperate need of some water as you pointed somewhere north. 

“Heard there’s a camp somewhere in Takayama…you?” 

He chuckled, nodding as if he couldn’t believe your words, looking behind him as the girl you guessed was Vera let out a small laugh too. The blue-eyed man, Satoru you deduced, stayed stoic, not giving anything away.

“By any chance are you talking about that one camp that has running water ‘n shit?” 

You nod, not trusting your voice anymore as you blink. 

“Nice,” He cocked his head in the direction of his group, the second girl, Anna, now walking in to see what the fuss was about, “That’s where we’re going too. Or at least, trying to. Care to join?”

You quickly learned that this group was different from your old one. 

They were serious, sure, but everybody was given the predicament. They were on guard at any sudden noise, guns drawn and ready, but they still acted like you guess they would have back in their old lives. They made jokes, laughed at each other's stupid mistakes, and spent the days and nights filling the silence with whatever they could. 

It was jarring, really, seeing how your old group of six never laughed nor had a moment of naïve fun, but you were far more fond of this than that.

“Damn, so you’re the youngest one here then?” Geto asked one day as you five trudged through an abandoned city. You looked up, mouth parted in slight awe as you took in the strange sights; abandoned skyscrapers, some tilting over a bit. Many were severely destroyed by the bombings. There were large craters on the ground, concrete slabs, and building chunks that fell into them. Geto nudged your side, snapping you from your trance as he waited for you to answer.

“Oh, um, yeah, I guess,” Your cheeks heated up in embarrassment, “Only by a little bit though. I was about to graduate high school when it started and I guess that was like what, five-ish years ago?” You couldn’t distinctly remember, time had just become a construct after so many months.

Vera and Anna had begun talking about how old they were when it started, and you had gotten roped into the conversation. 

“You’re the baby of the group now!” Anna exclaimed, pinching your cheeks with a giggle as you laughed softly, looking down at the cracked concrete beneath your feet as your backpack thumped on your back with every step you took, “It's good though,” She whispered in your ear, “You can use it to get out of chores.” You snickered at that, rolling your eyes but thankful for the tip.

You found out that Anna was only a couple of months older than you. Then came Geto, who was a year older than you two, Vera was around as old as him, and Gojo was two years older than you. 

“Wait, so you’ve been traveling alone all these years?” Anna was the one to ask as she walked closer to you, her brows pinched together in confusion, 

You could have sworn it was an unspoken rule not to talk about the past unless somebody brought it up directly.

“No, no,” You shook your head as your nose wrinkled at the thought, “I was part of a bigger group. But we,” You looked away, at nothing in particular as a sharp pang ran through your chest, “We split up a while ago. That’s when I went solo.”

She nodded in understanding, pulling her hair back as she tied it up, fanning her face at the heat. The sun was beating harshly on your face, sweat prickling at your hairline as you squinted through the bright light.

“Was it hard?” Anna asked, clearly not picking up on your reluctance to the subject. 

You swallowed, feeling like a part of your chest was heavier than it was seconds before as you cleared your throat. 

“I, well,” You shrugged, stammering a bit, “A little bit, but I learned how to-”

“How’d you get your food?” She cut you off. You could tell she wasn’t trying to do any harm, her eyes shining with childish curiosity but it didn’t do anything to hide the fact that it quite literally felt like your throat was closing up. 

“I would hunt or find whatever I co-”

“So you like being part of a group?” 

“Yeah-”

“Did it ever get lonely?”

“Anna,” Gojo cut her off, his voice not loud but commanding enough to get everybody's attention, speaking for the first time in what seemed a couple of hours, “Calm down.” 

Her eyes darted from you to him, finally noting the overwhelmed expression that you were trying your best to hide as she muttered out a quiet sorry. She moved to talk to Vera, and you were thankful that it wasn’t awkward as you went back to looking at the buildings. 

You gave him a small nod, grateful, but he only blinked, looking away as he went back to listening to whatever Geto was telling him. You huffed out a small embarrassed laugh, not putting much thought into it as you kicked a pebble across the ground, feeling the wind tickle your cheeks as you tried to hold back the sting of tears in your eyes. 

Gojo didn’t say much, even after you joined their group, and Vera told you it was normal and not to take it to heart. So you didn’t try to talk much with him, not wanting to push and prod at any of his boundaries. But he was nice otherwise, in his own ways. He took the night watch, letting you guys sleep, and insisted that he was fine with it. He was attentive, always giving the rest of his food to Anna when she complained about how hungry she was. He was cautious, as Geto would put it, but you couldn’t blame him. You were cautious too.

Did it ever get lonely? Her question rang through your mind. It was stupid, you’ve only known her for a short amount of time. Hell, you’ve only known these people for a couple of weeks but it felt like she had dug a hot iron into your chest with the simple query. It was pathetic, really, but it was that thing where the more you tried to stop yourself from crying the worse it became, and that seemed to be true right now. 

You fell behind a little bit, not anything much, but enough so that you were by yourself as you looked up. You found it easier to control your emotions as you blinked back the tears, not wanting to wipe them away in case anybody noticed. In front of you, you could hear Vera and Anna arguing about something minuscule, smiles still on their faces as they playfully banter back and forth. 

The wind began to pick up a bit, your eyes watering even more as you blinked back the fat tears that were threatening to fall and roll down your cheek, biting your lip as if that could make it stop.

“Everything alright?”

Your head whipped to the side to where the voice came from, a little surprised to see Gojo walking next to you. His hair was tucked behind his ears, hands in his pockets as he waited for your response. 

As you blinked in shock a small tear fell, and you quickly wiped it away with the back of your hand, no use in hiding it now as you nodded, lips quivering a bit as you sniffled. You could count the number of times he had spoken to you on a single hand, so you hid it by looking away. Your cheeks heated up under his heavy stare, not used to it, especially from him. 

“Y-yeah, I’m good.” You said as you exhaled shakily, not having the guts to look at him as you just stared directly ahead of you at the three heads of the other members of the group. But you weren't good at masking the lie as you watched from the corner of your eyes as he pulled something out of his pocket and handed it to you. 

Looking at his outstretched hand you saw a tissue and your eyes darted to him in questioning. 

“It’s not poisoned, y’know.” He told you, his voice slightly less monotone as you let out a watery laugh, tentatively taking it from him as you whispered out a hushed thanks. 

You blew your nose as quietly as you could, feeling bad as you threw it to the side of the street you blinked again, hoping this time you could do a better job of controlling your pesky and fragile emotions with somebody next to you.

There was a silent beat as neither of you said anything, wringing your fingers together as you tried to look for an explanation for all this. It was stupid, childish, and downright embarrassing, but you still couldn’t find the words to justify anything.

“Anna can be like that. You learn to live with it.” Gojo finally said, interrupting your train of thought as he spoke. You could tell he was slowing down his pace to match yours, his long legs taking shorter steps and you almost laughed at the sight. 

“It’s okay,” You said, rubbing at your eyes again as your nose wrinkled again, “I’m just not used to being…”

“Bombarded?” He said, finding the right word as you nodded with a small chuckle.

“Yeah… that. I know it’s stupid. I don’t even know why I’m…” You trailed off, wiping at your eyes with your palms as you took in a shaky breath, “It’s just been a while since I’ve talked this much, so I’m still trying to get used to it…sorry.” You let out a little hiccup, missing the way his lips almost pulled into a smile at the sound. 

“Don’t apologize,” He said, shrugging as he kicked a piece of broken asphalt across the sidewalk, “It’s not your fault.”

You went to open your mouth to say something back but Geto waved his arms, motioning the two of you to the rest of them as he pointed to something on the ground. 

“Oi, Gojo, come check this out. I don’t know if this is a cordyceps or a regular mushroom.” 

And you glanced at the man next to you one more time but he was already jogging forward to see what the fuss was about. It didn’t matter much, it shouldn’t have, but you couldn’t stop the way your little heart fluttered pathetically at his words. You quickened your pace, shaking your head at the thought as you joined the group once again.

But as much as you tried you couldn’t get his final words out of your head. It’s not your fault. How you wish it were true. If only he knew, he’d probably eat his own words. Swallow them up so that they were never spoken into existence because it was your fault. But you couldn’t say that now. 

You hated that time between day and night more than anything. 

When the crickets chirped and the sky became darker than it should have, casting a shadow over the ground. The stars were freckles across the sky and the light breeze didn’t distract you from the fact that clickers could be a stone's throw away from you without you ever realizing it. 

The abandoned apartment complex they decided to spend the night in was definitely in better condition than the ones surrounding it, but even with the extensive search you guys did up and down to make sure it was clear of any danger, you still felt a little nauseous as they set up base in the lobby. 

Your sleeping bags were sprawled out on the marble floor lined with dirt. You had your backpack next to you, your gun within arm's reach. Next to the fire was an array of cans to pick from, but you weren’t hungry, not in the slightest. You could barely stomach anything after Anna’s bombardment of questions that left you a quiet mess, and being surrounded by people in the dark just made it worse.

“Hungry?” Vera held out a can of preserved peaches but you shot your head, biting back the sick that made its way up to your throat at the thought of eating. You could feel her eyes burning on the side of your face but she didn’t press any further, eating as the two of you listened to Geto talk about his plan for reaching the camp in Takayama. 

He was the more animated one of the two males. He talked with his hands, his face contorting in different ways as he conversed with Anna. Gojo sat on the side, watching the flames dance across the rocks, his blue eyes lit a color you’ve never seen before as he listened in his own way to the conversation.

“I saw you earlier,” Vera whispered as she leaned in closer to you, throwing the empty can aside as she wiped the corners of her mouth with a napkin, pointing to Geto so your attention could stay on him while you listened to her, mostly not to draw any attention from the others as she tucked her hair behind her ear, “Talking with Satoru.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, looking at Vera but she nudged you to look back at Geto, continuing. 

“I know he’s not the easiest person to warm up to,” She said with a shrug, picking at her nails as he glanced at you with a soft smile, “He used to be, before all this. I can’t really blame him for being on guard-” You nodded in understanding and she softly chuckled at your response, “But he cares.” 

About what? You wanted to ask but didn’t want to prod too much. 

“So you knew him before?” This was an easier one to answer, and she nodded, cracking her thumb as she rested her head on her arm. The light from the little fire Geto made casted red and orange shadows on the highlights of her face, and she seemed younger here (she wasn’t even old). Her wrinkles were gone, eyes were less full of stress.

“Yeah, he lived near us. Us, being me and Geto.” She quickly said to save you the confusion. Huh, you thought to yourself, no wonder they were so close.

“So you all grew up together?” 

“Yeah,” Her lips pulled into a soft smile, eyes creasing around the edges as she sat in thought, “From elementary school up until university. Geto and Gojo were even doing pre-med together.” 

You almost wanted to laugh at the thought. 

“I know, it’s weird. I can’t even begin to think of what they’d be like as doctors. But their parents wanted them to do it, so they just went along with whatever they said.” 

“What were you doing?” You asked, not even trying to focus on Geto anymore, finding her stories far more interesting. After some time you quickly learned that Vera had much to say when she wanted to, she was just selective when she did. 

“I was planning on becoming a teacher. It pissed my parents off, but I liked it.” Her words were soft, almost as if thinking about it brought back better memories. And you bet it probably did, a future she once wanted now far away from her reach. 

“And Anna? Did she grow up with you guys too?” 

She shook her head, stifling a yawn as her eyelids drooped a little bit. 

“No, we met Anna along the way. She and Emi were close though,” She said, rubbing at her tired face, dragging it down as she tried to fight the sleep threatening its way through her body. 

Emi?

You watched as her eyes widened slightly, looking over at you to see if you caught the name and she sighed in obvious disappointment, mad at herself for the slip-up. Mumbling something along the lines of shit to herself as she blinked quickly.

“Don’t - don’t ask,” She shot you a look and you dared to go against it, her face once lined with empathy turned stone cold, threatening even as her voice loomed its way through your bones, “Don’t say anything about that. Okay?” 

You nod, muttering out a soft ok, almost too scared to answer her loudly as she nodded, clearly not happy with it but knowing there wasn’t much else she could do. 

So you didn’t press it, pretending like you heard nothing as you nodded along to whatever Geto was saying. Though nothing could hide the fiery spark of curiosity that came with the new name, one you had never heard here before. 

You wondered why she tried to hide it.

That night you couldn’t sleep. 

You’d toss and turn, turning your pillow around to see if it would make a difference, but nothing was able to lull you into a tranquil state of being. 

The apartment would creak and groan sometimes, the stories above you stable enough not to collapse, but weak enough to freak you out from shutting your eyes as you stared at them. The crystal chandelier overhead was overrun by dust, and it would sway a little when the wind from outside picked up.

After a couple of minutes, you gave up, huffing in annoyance as you rubbed at your sleepy eyes, wishing they would just work with the rest of your body and sleep, but that was a pathetic attempt and didn’t work.

You got up, careful not to make a sound and disturb anybody sleeping around you, and looked around, looking for somewhere to sit that was safe and peaceful enough to help ease your mind. 

Moving as if you were about to step on a bomb, you found the reception desk, the paint peeling, and the wood corroding. It gave you a good view of the main apartment entrance, so you felt more comfortable there having a view of almost anything. 

Resting your back on it you let out a heavy sigh, your chest moving as your head fell back, thudding against it softly as you played with your fingers. 

“Why’re you up?” 

You almost yelped but controlled the urge as you jumped in your spot, eyes darting around till they found a faint mop of white hair to your left. He was prodding at the last embers of the fire with a metal pipe, moving them around as they made soft crinkling sounds with his every move. You wondered to yourself, both in shame and worry, how you had somehow failed to miss that.

“Were you watching me?” You whispered, wincing as you tried to lower the volume, scoffing at that being the first thing that came to mind. 

“I am on watch duty.” He said, his voice tinged with a bit of sarcasm as his brow raised a little bit. You could barely make him out with your limited vision, but you could tell from where he was standing that he was only a couple of feet away from you. 

“You didn’t answer my first question.” He reminded you after a beat of silence, his voice low as he tried not to wake anybody up. 

You yawned, shrugging as you picked up a rock not to your thigh, moving it around in your hand as your fingers ran along its smooth and imperfect crevices, its cool touch calming you down a little bit. 

“Can’t sleep.” You responded after a bit of thinking, but it really was the truth. Maybe a simplified version of it, but it caused him to let out a quiet scoff, obviously not satisfied with your lazy response. 

“Insomnia or bad dreams?” 

You laughed a bit, your lips quirking at the edges as you clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth. 

“You would have made a spectacular doctor.” 

He took in a sharp breath of air and you laughed, stifling your giggle with your hand. His reaction telling you he obviously didn’t want that knowledge to be spread around. 

“Swear to god, that’s all she told me though.” You say, holding up your hands as if a pledge of your honesty though you doubted he could even see it. You heard him snort, obviously not buying it but not saying anything about it as he pushed at the coals around a little more. 

A small rush of wind moved the dust and twigs next to you, the whooshing sound somewhat tranquil as it filled the silence. It wasn’t awkward like you thought it’d be, but it wasn’t comfortable either. It was a place right in the middle, but it was better than your past three interactions with him. 

You tried to squint, trying to make out his features. He was attractive, that much you could admit. Even if you met him before seeing a man became a rare occurrence you would have had the same thought. His frame was sturdy, lean, and tall. He filled out his clothes rather nicely, and his face was passive and a grimace away from forming a scowl, but you could tell he once used to laugh a lot more if the smile lines told you anything. 

You wondered if the name Emi had anything to do with him losing his smile. 

“Tell me something about yourself then.” 

A shocked laugh threatened to bubble out of your throat at his sudden statement. 

“W-Why?” You stuttered out with a laugh, confused as you shifted where you were sitting, tilting your head a little bit to the side, wishing he’d move so you could see clearly just who it was you were talking to. 

“You know too much about me,” He said as if it was obvious, shrugging his shoulders as he set the metal pipe down gently to not make any noise, “I don’t know anything about you. Other than you can’t sleep and are learning to talk more.” 

A part of you wondered if he was being genuine or trying to be snarky. 

But you just snorted, rolling your eyes at the absurdity of this as you threw your hands, looking up as you thought for a second for something interesting yet boring enough to shut him up so you could have some quiet time. 

“I can only eat semi-sweet or dark chocolate. Milk’s a little too sweet for me.” 

You could hear a snort in response, probably the first you’d ever heard from him as he shuffled around a little bit, his shadow moving a little bit closer to where you were sitting. The ray of moonlight illuminated part of his face, his white lashes fluttering against his cheeks as you watched him rest his chin on the palm of his hand. 

“Seems like we’re complete opposites there,” He admitted, his lips threatening to tug into a smile, but he controlled it as if he didn’t want you to see that part of his hidden emotions.

“Then I’ll give you any milk chocolate bars I find.” 

He huffed, a part of his lip caught under his teeth as he considered the thought. 

“Is that good enough for you?”

He shook his head quickly, comically as you sighed, some sleep finally settling in as you rub at your forehead. You could feel the headache coming from a mile away. 

“Need something more personal,” He retaliated, moving a little bit so that he wasn’t putting all his weight on his arms, his toned chest moving as he resituated himself. You tried to not make it obvious that you were staring, “What’s your favorite color?” 

“Well now you’ve gone too far,” You say with a little laugh, the most genuine one you’ve had in a while. You miss the way his face almost mirrors yours, the edges of his lips threatening to pull up into a grin as you smile. “I like yellow.” You finally answer, your smile faltering as you think back. 

“Any particular reason or do you just like the color of piss?”  

“I had this perfume bottle, I got it for my birthday when I was twelve. The actual perfume smelled disgusting but the bottle itself was this glass-stained yellow, a soft yellow that I haven’t seen anywhere else.” You explained, bringing one leg up to your chest, and wrapping your arms around it to steady yourself. 

“What about you?” He shook his head, waving his pointed finger around, clearly not answering a question yet. 

“No, still on you. Where were you when this all started?” Gojo asked, and the jump from the previous question to this one took you off guard. If you were counting correctly he had two more facts above you than you did for him, but you indulged him, having nothing better to do with your time. 

“At home. I was watching TV with my dad when they broadcasted that signal,” You paused, the memories flooding back as you tried to blink them away. The car, your neighbors who were already infected, “You?” 

For a second you thought he wasn’t going to answer but he shifted, running a hand through his hair as he whistled quietly, thinking.

“I was in a lecture hall.” 

“For your doctor lectures?” 

He chuckled, for the first time since you’ve known him, shaking his head as he eventually nodded, knowing that you were probably never going to give up the information. You watched as he rested his chin on his palm, the new angle giving you a better view of him and you felt your cheeks heating up under his gaze. 

“Yeah,” He couldn’t fight the smile anymore, his face turning softer as he smirked, “For my doctor lectures.”

“Go sleep,” He said after a heavy beat of silence, his voice softer as he watched you wipe at your eyes, a big yawn escaping your mouth as you blinked tiredly, “It’s almost morning.” 

You shake your head, wondering why a part of you was disappointed that he was right. As you stood up, wiping the dust from your pants as you shuffled your way around some bricks, finding your way back to your sleeping bag (with more difficulty than you’d like to admit), and threw it over your body. You could feel his eyes burning on your back, but you shut your eyes and pretended that you were asleep.

A couple of weeks after that night and you wondered if you had somehow passed a test.

While he still didn’t speak much to you, he wasn’t cautious nor weary when he did. 

Gojo still didn’t laugh or smile much, but his little grin was less guarded when you spoke to him. Maybe it was to save you the pity of your awful jokes, but a part of you felt happier knowing he warmed up to you a bit.

“You just haven’t heard these puns yet,” You argued one day, pulling out the book you found when you scavenged through an abandoned store about a week ago. It had water damage and some of the words you could barely read, “Okay, okay, what about this one? 3.14% of sailors are Pi-rates. Huh?” You looked up at him, wiggling your eyebrows only to see him with a disgruntled look, staring down at you as he shook his head in disappointment. 

“None of these should have been published.” He argued, and although he sounded disgruntled, there was an edge of him holding back a laugh. 

“Oh, I like this one!” You exclaimed with a giggle, Vera looking back at the two of you as she smiled to herself, nudging at Geto so he could see too, “What do you use to cut a Roman Emperor's hair?” He didn’t say anything for a second so you lightly kicked his shin, waiting for an answer.

“I don't know, scissors?” You grinned, shocked at how close he was.

“Almost, the answer is Ceasers,” You revealed with a giggle, showing Gojo the book as he sighed, rubbing at his forehead in faux annoyance. You put the book in your back pocket, careful when you fold it, wanting to save the rest for later, “Don’t worry, I’m saving the best for last.” You patted the pocket as he laughed, excusing himself as Geto called for him to check something out on the map. Your foot almost slipped when you walked on some grass, wet from the rain last night, and his hands soft out to grip your elbows, steadying you as you thanked him. Your skin felt like it was on fire from where his lingering touch was, and you looked away, hoping he couldn’t pick up on the embarrassment. 

“Y/n, can you come here for a ‘sec?” Anna called your name, ushering you over as you looked around to see her walking a little bit behind you. And you made your way over to her, readjusting your backpack as your shoulder sunk a bit from how heavy it was. 

She offered you a small smile, though you could tell she was thinking a lot of things through. You noticed that when that line appeared down the middle of her brow, it meant that she was deep in thought. That, or she was mad. But with the way her fingers danced on her arms in discomfort and her eyes darted around the rest of the group, you wanted to bet that she was going through it.

“What’s up?” You finally asked, just hoping there weren't any more questions about how difficult it was traveling alone.

“I’ve seen that you and Gojo have gotten closer, w-which is great! Don’t get me wrong!” She sputtered, shooting you a quick grin that didn’t quite meet her eyes, “But I feel like I should let you know…” 

When she didn’t finish you raised a brow, wondering what could possibly be so bad. 

“Do,” She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as she shook her body, deciding to just get it over with, “Do you remember that one night? In that apartment lobby?” 

You almost laughed. How could you forget?

“Yeah…vaguely,” That was a fat lie. It was all you could think about in these following weeks. Your conversation with both Vera and Gojo plagued different parts of your mind for different reasons. 

“Listen, I couldn’t help but overhear ‘Ver, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but…” She trailed off, gnawing on her lip as her eye twitched, “I heard her say Emi and I know she brushed it off but I feel like you deserve to know about it. You’ve been with us long enough so that I can trust you with this.”

Was it really that easy? You didn’t say anything, hoping the slight excitement and anticipation on your face wouldn’t scare her away as you gave her the time she needed until she continued. She took in a deep breath and started.

“I’d known Emi for a long time now - gosh, probably over a decade at this point. She was nice, but she had her own flaws, but she was my only friend so I ignored them. When this,” She motioned her arms around you, “Whole thing happened, she was the only one I had. We were planning on going to a quarantine zone in Tokyo but it fell almost immediately, so we just went wherever we could.

“We met up with those guys a couple of months later. Maybe two, two and a half years ago?” She thought back, shaking her head because it wasn’t important to fixate on, “And they took us in. They were all really nice, including ‘Toru.

“After a while, he and Emi got closer, and for that while, it was just a fling that would pass the time. But they cared for each, it was pretty obvious. Or from what she told me, it sounded like they did. But,” She bit her cheek, playing nervously with her fingers as she looked up at you, “it was hard. They fought. A lot,”  She gave a humorless laugh as she looked back on it, “Day in and day out. They fought over the smallest of things. I swear, I don’t know how-” She stopped, apologizing as she got back on track, “Anyways, what I’m trying to get at is that one of these fights got bad. I can’t even remember what it was about. Food? Maybe clothes? Doesn’t matter. It got big and they said some shit neither of them meant, but Emi left. She said she was leaving, but nobody believed her. She always said shit like that. But she did, she left and we didn’t see her for a couple of days.

“‘Toru was really worried, never seen him so scared before. He went out looking for her and came back a week later. He told us she was bitten, late in the stages of infection. He said he had to…” She trailed off, voice catching in her throat and you quickly looked for a tissue, as she gratefully accepted it.

“I see the way you try to make him laugh, I know, but Emi took that part of him. He wasn’t the same after she left, and I don’t think he ever will be. So just - don’t get your hopes up when you’re around him, okay?”

“I, um, okay…?” But you didn’t even know what you were agreeing to. You just knew that Anna nodded, thankful that you heard, and the two of you made your way back to your group. Maybe it was the way your face had lost all the laughter it had just a couple minutes ago, or that Anna somehow managed to see what you were trying to do, but Gojo glanced at you, his brows furrowing together in slight worry. 

You don’t know why the information affected you so much. It could have been just from how shocking it was to hear it, or the fact that Anna could tell that you were trying to get him to smile more. It made sense, the more you thought about why he was the way he was, but you still felt a part of you crumbling at the thought. Even if you never met Emi, you couldn’t definitely feel her presence after she was gone. 

What? He mouthed, altering his steps so that he could weave around Geto to get closer to you. But you shook your head, reassuring him to stay where he was as you gave him a curt nod and a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. 

It’d be over soon, you told yourself. After you get to the camp in Takayama, it’d be big enough to go your separate ways. You’ll forget the last five years, forget everything you’ve gone through, and start something new.

If not, you’d rather just get bitten and get this hell over with. 

“What’d she tell you?” 

Gojo cornered you when they were all asleep, the tall trees surrounding you casting shadows over his face. You didn’t light a fire this time, Geto saying it’d be safer if you just used flashlights instead. You knew the infected had bad eyesight, relying on sound more than anything, but that didn’t mean raiders couldn’t see. 

There was no point in lying, he’d sniff it out immediately if you did, so you shrugged, glancing to the side as you blindly moved around leaves, trying to be quiet to get away from the group in case any of them were awake. 

“Nothing important,” You muttered, glad it was dark for once so that he couldn’t see your reaction and vice versa. 

“Bullshit,” His voice was low, your eyes slightly widening in surprise at his reaction, “Wouldn’t have been nothing if you looked like that afterwards.”

Though you could barely see anything, you could feel his presence. He took up a lot of space, and you could practically feel how his hands were only a little distance away from yours. His fingers were inches away from your wrist, and you knew that because when you moved you could feel the light indent, a slight burn as if he’d set your skin aflame. 

“Nothing important to you.” You specify, crossing your arms across your chest as you heard him scoff, his jaw ticking as he prodded at his cheek with his tongue.  If only your past self could see you now, arguing with a man who you thought only ever had two emotions he used on and off. 

He waited, hands on his hips as he tapped his foot impatiently on the ground, hanging his head down for a second until he looked back up. 

“Green.” 

You pause, brows creasing as you huff out a laugh. 

“What?” 

“Green,” He repeated, “That’s my favorite color.” When it dawns on you what he’s doing you have to contain the giggle that slipped past your lips, covering your mouth when your hands as you continue to laugh. 

“Why’re you laughing?” He asks, his voice genuinely confused as you laugh more, holding onto a tree trunk to steady yourself, “W-what?” But you hear the soft inflection of a laugh in his voice now, almost as if he is trying to control it as you wave your hands, trying to make it stop but you just hit his hands in the process.

“So you refuse to tell me and you hit me in the process?” Any seriousness has dropped from him completely and you laugh through your hands, trying to apologize but your cheeks hurt. It wasn’t that funny, really you don’t know why you’re reacting this way, but it’s that feeling when you start laughing, and it grows out of control for no reason. 

“I-I’m sorry!” You wheeze out, trying to find his hands to apologize but he brings them to your mouth. It was dark so you couldn’t see, but his eyes darted around, suddenly realizing how loud you were being. 

“Sssh, be quiet.” He hissed out, and you giggled again, licking the palm of his hand as he gave a muted yelp, bringing it close to his chest as he wiped it on his pants. He looked back up at the outline of your shadow, glaring. 

“You’re a fucking child, y’know that?” He groaned, but his words didn’t quite match what his face was because his eyes softened at the sound of your laugh, carefree as you failed at trying to control it. 

“Admit it, I’m funnny,” You drawled out, laughing as you hunched over a little bit, waving your finger around somewhere near his face, “You’re laughinggg because I’m funnny.” You stated, tugging on his fingers playfully, and he snorted, gently swatting your hand away as he sighed. 

“You’re insufferable is what you are.” Is what Gojo finally landed on.

“Tell me something more personal and I might tell you.” You poked his chest, repeating his own words back to him as you leaned back on the tree. You had no intentions of revealing what Anna told you, but you wanted to see how far he’d go to know. 

“You’re impossible,” He muttered, running a hand through his hair, debating whether or not it was even worth it to tell you something when he knew damn well you weren’t going to give any information up.

“I’m scared.” He heaved in a sigh and you cut him off with a chortle. 

“Everybody’s scared-” 

“Of ending up alone.” He finished, brow raising as your laugh quickly died down, some fort of satisfactory grin that didn’t mirror the gloom in his eyes made its way onto his face as he asked, “What? Cat got your tongue?”

“No,” You quickly say, rubbing at your jaw as you take a set back, easing on the trunk as you duck your head down in embarrassment, crunching some dead leaves under your boot, shame riding up your bones as you lamely shrug, “Just wasn’t expecting that.” You mutter, looking up at him from the corner of your eye. 

He chuckles, taking a step closer, his breath hitting your cheek. 

“What? Expecting me to say spiders? The dark?” You can feel his slender fingers a hairs distance away from your arms, careful not to touch you, but still close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off of him. 

“No,” You shudder, both from the cold and from him, “Thought you were ‘gonna say med school or something.”

He lets out a big groan, hands gingerly gripping your elbows as his head falls on your shoulder, fighting his smile as you laugh again, muffling it with his coat as you gently pat his back. 

“Where do fruits go for vacation?” Your hand stalled on his back, feeling his slumped form take in a deep, steadying breath. 

“Where?”

“Pear-is.” You heard him mumble something on your shoulder, giggling as he shook his head in mock dismay. But this was different than all the last times, you could tell. His back shook a little, and he refused to look up. 

You didn't comment on the tears that began to stain your shirt, or his quivering chest every time he breathed. So you wrapped your arms around his back, squeezing a little bit, feeling his arms snake around your waist as he tugged you just a little bit closer. 

Even though it didn’t feel like a lot of time had passed, it had almost been six months since you began traveling with them. The journey would have been far faster if any of the cars worked, but Takayama was only a few weeks away. According to Geto. 

Gojo walked up next to you, shoving something in the pocket of your coat. You look at him from the side of your eye, digging it out to see a chocolate bar as he looks away, a little smirk on his face as you lightly elbow his side. 

“Can literally hear your stomach begging for something,” He teased, his face stoic but his voice lighthearted as you laugh, grateful even if you didn’t show it as you opened it up, noting that it was dark, telling him thanks with a mouthful of chocolate. 

“Want some?” You offered, holding the bar out as he declined, shrugging, “Suit yourself.” You muttered, mouth full of the sweet as you finished the rest of it. He felt his eyes lingering on your lips stained with the chocolate as Gojo dryly swallowed, averting his gaze as he looked somewhere else, his cheeks colored light pink. 

“I think we’re the chosen ones,” Geto stated, walking around freely as he pointed to all of you including himself. Your group made it out of the forest a couple of days ago, so he’s been living his life, trying to enjoy the run-down towns as much as he could before you went into the forests again until you reached Takayama. 

“God, you’re so fucking stupid Suguru,” Vera said, shoving past him as she rolled her eyes, taking a bite out of her protein bar as she shared a knowing look with you, the two of you laughing as Geto tried to explain himself. 

“No, no, hear me out. Aside from me, you and ‘Toru, y/n, and Anna come from different places. But we all somehow found each other, and as a group, are going to the chosen place.” He concluded, wiggling his eyebrows as everybody else just groaned as he went on another one of his tangents. 

“No, really, think about it,” He tried to catch up to her pace, walking backward so that he could also look at all of you when he spoke, “We’ve all been picked through natural selection. These past five, six, years and we survived them. We-”

He stopped, and all of you stopped in your tracks when you heard the dreaded sound. 

Clicking. Groaning. 

“Oh fuck,” Geto stopped, everybody, drawing out their weapons as you tried to figure out where it was coming from. Your heart was rattling inside your ribcage, your hands fumbling as you tried to find your gun. It had been so long since you’d encountered an infected that you were naively beginning to think that they had just disappeared. 

“It’s okay,” Gojo muttered, glancing over to you as he held his hand on yours, trying to calm your shaking down a bit, “You’re ‘gonna be okay.” He was so sure of it that you almost believed his words. 

But long gone was the carefree attitude as the clicking got louder both in volume and in amount. 

“Shit,” Gojo looked over to Vera, “How many d’you think there is?” The clicking got louder, your fingers trembling over the trigger as you looked at the abandoned city hall, finally locating where it was coming from. He told you that she was the best shooter they had, and she was far more confident in taking clickers and runners down than anybody else was.

“Too many,” She called back, eyes darting from everywhere, looking for somewhere to escape from, “Fuck, we ‘gotta split.” You guys were in an alleyway, stuck between taking the road and going through a hole in one of the walls. But from where you could tell, taking the road was only going to direct you toward the infected. The wall still gave them an opening to wherever you guys planned to run from, so in some way, you were cornered. 

“What?” He called out, taking a step back, his brows furrowed in confusion, “No way, we can’t-”

“Listen to me. Here, take my map,” She threw it over to him and he caught it, mouthing confusion but she shook her head, “Suguru and I can hold them off for right now, but you take Anna and y/n. If we can’t find-”

“We’re not going to fucking leave!” He shouted back, raising his voice to be heard over the number of infected, his cheeks tinged pink as you nodded, not trusting your words as you felt your stomach churn. 

“If we can’t find you, meet us in Takayama! Don’t look back, just keep running north!” She motioned down the street, “I can radio with Anna, don’t worry!” She was trying to shove him but he wouldn’t move. 

“Vera, I’m not leaving you guys-” But he was cut off by an animalistic roar, everybody’s attention shooting back to the noise, his words dying down in his throat as you saw a glimpse of the infected. 

You would never get over the way they looked. You thought you’d be used to it by now, but it never fails to make your hands clammy and you're overall nauseous. They had large fungi popping out of their cranium, their clothes all battered and bloody. They ran so fast that you wondered if they were created just to outrun the human race, but now wasn’t the time for it. All you could hear was their and Vera’s screams. 

“Satoru,” She took his arm, holding it in a tight grasp as her eyes darted from him to them, seething from between her teeth, “Take them. Don’t - don’t regret it like you did last time. You couldn’t… but…you can save them. Go. Please.” 

He glared at her, eyes hiding a different meaning than what his face showed, nostrils flaring but he stopped. He pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead, muttering out a barely audible I’m sorry, looking at Geto as he gave him a small nod, holding his position down as he waited to buy you guys some time. 

He grabbed your wrist, urging Anna to follow him as Vera and Geto began to block you guys.

“W-wait, no, no, let go of me!” You tried to wrangle out of his iron grip but he was insistently dragging you away as you kicked, your eyes welling up, fear overtaking your body as they ran, coming closer and closer to the five of you as Gojo tried to lead you through the hole in the wall.

“Go with him, please, we’ll be okay,” Vera urged as Geto began firing, memories, similar moments cursing through your mind as you got the worst sense of deja vu. You almost felt like collapsing had it not been for Gojo’s steady hand, leading you away. 

You cried out for them one last time but he already pulled you through, Anna not too far behind as you held onto him for support, your mouth open as you looked back at him, slowly beginning to realize what happened. 

A couple of hours later and you couldn't feel your legs, wordlessly putting Gojo in charge of finding a house to stay at to stay the night. 

It was in some run-down town, but many of the homes are still standing. It was probably some of the best pieces of architecture you’ve seen so far, meaning that most of the paint was still on and the furniture wasn’t entirely moth-eaten.

The one Gojo picked was at the end of a cul de sac, seemingly standing unharmed. Vines grew uncontrollably from the sides, and the house was caked with dirt, but you’d take it. He scooped it out, making sure there weren’t any infected hiding in any of the dark rooms, but he gave you two the okay signal and you camped out there for the night.  

It was stocked with water and canned food, some chairs knocked down and carpets scrunched up as if the previous owners were trying to leave in a hurry. All the rooms seemed fine, and you just picked a random one as you threw your bag in, not caring as you made your way downstairs to where the rest of them were. 

You found them in the living room, the shutters closed, hints of the afternoon sun peeking through. Gojo glanced over at you, his eyes running over your body, quickly scanning to make sure you weren’t hurt.

You made your way to a chair, rubbing your hands over your face as if that could wake you up from this living nightmare. 

“They’re okay. They’re gonna be okay.” Anna said, more to convince herself than the rest of you, nodding as she said it again, but with no confidence. It wasn’t night yet, but Vera still hadn’t radioed in, anticipation deep in your throats as your wall stared at the portable radio Anna placed on the coffee table. 

Gojo sat there, his legs spread out, an elbow on each knee as he rubbed at his mouth, eyes distant, lost, as he stared at nothing. 

You could only imagine how he feels. No matter the sorrow you felt, he felt it tenfold. You’d only known them for a couple of months, a year at most, but he’d known them their entire lives. His shoulders sunk as if the guilt he was feeling was already pushing down on him. 

Even though you didn’t know much about Emi, the hurt he carried from her was visible and inevitable. You didn’t know just how much something like this would change him if he’d ever forgive himself if something were to happen to them. 

You cleared your throat, not able to bear it anymore as you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. 

“Despite whatever happens, I just wanted to say thanks for getting us out. I don’t think I could have walked, let alone fought, so…thanks.” You address Gojo, watching as Anna nodded in agreement, shooting him a smile that quickly died down when she saw his face.

He dropped his hands, his eyes shining with a different sort of gleam as you took a step back, your brows and eyes squinting at the odd look. 

“Vera and Geto might be dead. They might be dead because I was too fucking scared to stay and do anything to help. We don’t know where the fuck we are… and you’re thanking me?” 

You stuttered, confused as you shared a glance with Anna as she slowly moved from her seat. 

“I-I, well, I’m not trying to undermine what they did,” Your head tilted, your voice gentle, knowing that he was surely dealing with every possible ounce of guilt and anger under the moon right now, wishing you just stayed quiet. But you’d already opened your mouth so you had to continue, “I’m just saying thanks because you helped us. That’s all-”

“Help,” He repeated, giving an emotionless laugh as he stood up, shaking his head as his hair followed his every movement, “I ran away. I didn’t help.” 

“‘Toru, she’s right, just - just calm down, come on,” Anna interjected, her eyes darting from him to you, offering you an apologetic smile on his behalf. 

“She has no idea what she’s talking about. Fuck,” His voice broke, looking away as he tried to wipe his tears, “It’s like….” He didn’t finish but you knew he was going to say It’s like Emi, judging from the way Anna tried to comfort him. 

“You’re,” You said slowly, not wanting to anger him any more than he already was, “You’re right. Most of the time I don’t know what I’m talking about, but I understand, and I know it’s not easy and-”

“You know? You know? Fuck y/n, what do you know? What could possibly make you understand?” You’ve never seen him like this, never had the honor of having his words cut you, sawing at your skin until they made you bleed. 

You scoffed, not knowing if he was being serious, but he stared at you waiting for an answer. 

“Let me see,” You give a meaningless laugh, wiping at your eyes, trying your best to not cry in front of him, not wanting to show him that his words didn’t affect you the way that they truly did, “I thought I was allowed to understand after my dad killed himself. Or maybe it was when my friend tried to kill me because I ate her fucking can of tuna,” You paused, choking on a sob, “O-or when my group left me in the middle of fucking nowhere, saying I was dead weight,” You sniffled, your voice wavering as you shook your head, pointing a finger at Gojo’s chest as you stared at his blank face.

“Just because you’ve been through shit doesn't mean that I haven’t. So - so don’t tell me that I don’t understand, because I do. It’s just, I don’t go treating people I know like shit just because of it.” A tear trickled down your cheek, hanging on your chin before it splattered on the ground. 

Your chest heaved, hands trembling as you heard Anna mutter a muffled oh my god. You didn’t want pity, you didn’t want any of their sympathies. But after so many years of carrying it around silently just for him to say that you don’t understand opened up the floodgates. 

You went to say something else, opening your mouth before you shut it again, lips wobbling as you shook your head, ducking it as you made your way for the stairs. You tried to zone out Anna’s calls for you to come back as you found the room you assigned yourself and shut the door with a loud slam, rattling the house.

Anna came by, asking if you were hungry, but you just brushed her off, saying that you’d come down to eat later. 

It was true, you couldn’t stomach anything right now, but you didn’t want to see anybody after that. 

You paced around the room, doing anything to occupy your mind and get rid of the thoughts coursing through your head. You packed your bag, which wasn’t even yours, you wanted to guess that in the rush of leaving you accidentally packed Geto’s because yours sure as hell didn’t have a pack of cigarettes and condoms in it, (you’d put all your money on the fact that him and Vera were hooking up), unpacked, and re-packed it. You folded some clothes lying around, washed your face with the water from the bottles you found, and tried to freshen up. Your eyes were still a little puffy and red, but you knew it would go away quickly. 

You looked through the closet and did anything you could think of. You didn’t really have the heart to take anything, knowing that somebody cared for these things at one point, but you snooped around, having nothing better to do. 

From what you could deduce, a teenager probably lived in the room. Band posters were plastered on the walls, the bed had some stuffed animals still left on it. You could remember the initial broadcast saying to take only what was necessary, so it made sense why the closet was mainly empty but the other aspect of the room seemed untouched. 

You looked at some of the books they had, pulling them out of the shelves as you read the titles. Some you knew, some you didn’t. The window adjacent to the bookshelf showed you an outside view of the neighborhood, the moon shining bright as you relied on that and your flashlight to move around. 

As you went to put a book back you heard a knock at your door, startling you as you dropped the book on the ground. You grumbled in annoyance, glancing at it and then back to your book. 

“I’m still not hungry,” You called out, bending down to grab it as you sighed, “But thanks,” You put it back where it was, wiping at your face as you navigate around the bed, going to open the door to let her in, “Hey, have you heard anything from…” You trailed off, not expecting to see a taller figure in Anna’s place. 

You met his eyes, the same ones that managed to knock the air out of your lungs. His gaze softened upon the sight of your face, but you wouldn’t let that dictate your feelings. No, you refused. So instead, you quickly gathered yourself, squinting your eyes as you went to shut the door, not quick enough as he was able to wedge his foot in between, whimpering a bit as you still tried to slam it shut with it in the way. 

“Ow, fuck, wait,” His hand gripped the side of the door, and you rolled your eyes, sniffing once as you let him open it himself, knowing that he’d just find another way inside if you blocked this one, “Listen,” He invited himself in, a hint of pleading in his voice as he looked at you, “Anna got Vera’s message. They're,” He sighed, his shoulders sagging a bit, “They’re fine. Little shakin’ up, but they’re gonna be okay. Said to meet up with them at the camp.” 

Your eyes and mouth slightly opened, your anger with him disappearing for a second as you smiled softly to yourself. 

“That’s great,” You breathed out, not knowing how to handle this, almost all the stress leaving your bones as you gave yourself a moment to relax, “Great news.” You gave him a curt smile, glancing at the door, wondering if that was all he came here for. 

His eyes traveled from your face, stalling on your puffy lids as he slightly grimaced. He looked around the room, noting all the décor, posters, and memorabilia. You could tell he was struggling to find something to say, opening his mouth only to close it just as quickly. 

“Thanks for letting me know,” You start, your hands hovering over his chest as you try to push him out, “But I wanna be by myself right now, so…” You nodded to the door, waiting for him to get the hint and go.

“Are you leaving?” He asked suddenly, his brows furrowed, creasing down the middle as glanced at your face at your packed bag behind you. You saw his lips trembling, hands moving up to gently cup your elbows, almost as if he needed to, or else he’d crumble over. 

“What?” You look back confused as to what he was talking about, shaking your head, “I was jus-” 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m sorry, so so sorry sweetheart, I swear, I d-didn’t know you went t-through all that shit,” His voice cracked, his legs moving faster than his body as you backed up against the bed, alarmed at his sudden change in mood, “Even if I did, I-I should never have said that to you. I’m so fucking sorry, please, I didn’t mean anything I said. I was talkin’ out of my ass and being the biggest fuckin’ dick ever.” Gojo’s voice trembled as if he was on the verge of tears as you almost tripped, glad the bed was behind you as you fell onto it, the springs squeaking at the sudden movement. 

You watched as a giant of a man sank to his knees, grabbing your hands and holding them to his chest as his eyes watered, his lip wobbling as he almost pleaded for you to look at him and to hear what he was trying to say. 

“Look, I’m really, really sorry,” He crouched down, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand, “Please don't leave. I’ll shut up for the rest of the way there and you’ll never-” 

“I’m not leaving,” You say with a small laugh, confusion laced in your voice, “I was bored so I packed. ‘S not even my bag, think I got Geto’s or Vera’s on accident.” You shrugged as you watched his face change. Morphing as he shut his mouth, his hands still trembling as realization washed over him, slowly only leaving embarrassment. 

“Really?” He asked, still not letting go of your hands you nodded slowly, heart beating rapidly in your rib cage as you waited for him to say something else. 

“Oh...” He the relief on his face is replaced with something different, “Okay,” He took in a deep breath, slowly letting go of your hands as he looked at the floor, some of his hair falling in his face as he finally looked back up, giving you a small apologetic smile, “Sorry, I didn’t…” He couldn’t finish, moving quickly to stand up, mumbling something to himself as he went for the door, stopping seconds before he opened it. 

“‘Toru?” 

His fingers danced over the doorknob, not turning back despite his every nerve telling him to look back at you. But deep down, he knew that if he did, it would all come crumbling down. That the wall he built so highly for himself would crack, and he’d have to face the realization that he cared for you. Cared so deeply for you that seeing your face, your eyes puffy from crying because of his words would be worse than if a scolding knife was to pierce his heart. Because no matter how hard he tried to convince his feeble mind that you didn’t matter to him, you did, and he could no longer hide behind a mask and pretend that you didn’t. 

“Now that I think about it I think you would have made a shit doctor.” You say, crossing your arms across your chest as you watch him turn around, his lips red, looking like he’d been repeatedly chewing on it. 

His hand fell from the doorknob, taking three quick steps to get back to where you were, his hands quickly going up to hold your face, eyes scanning yours as if waiting for you to say anything. But you couldn’t, not with the way he was staring at you. He always did a spectacular job of whisking your words away from a single glance. 

“You drive me crazy,” He muttered, his nose almost touching yours as your hands traveled slowly up his back, feeling your heart beating in your throat, “Whenever I see your face,” His thumb runs over the corner of your mouth, eyes falling on your lips, “I don’t what to do. And then you open your mouth and I don’t know if I want to laugh, cry o-or kiss you. And,” He sighed, a hand going behind your head so that you could look up at him, “I don’t know what I’d do without you. Without your gorgeous face, your pretty eyes, your laugh, your kind, kind heart. I’ll spend a fucking lifetime making up for all the shit I’ve done if it means you’d forgive me.” He was a breath away from your lips, if either one of you were to make a single movement it’d be over.

“Relax,” You say with a little laugh, your lashes fluttering on your cheek as you take a step back closer to the bed, “I’m not gonna make you grovel or anything. But if you’re offering something as forgiveness…” You trail off, not knowing how to word words as you push his head closer to yours. Your fingers play with his hair, tangling them back and forth to make little curls, your head moving on its own as you try not to give a stupid giddy smile. 

He leans in, finally closing that pesky gap between the two of you as you let out a little gasp until you melt against his chest, slowly working your lips against his. 

It’s hot, you don’t know how else to describe it. Weeks, months even, of pent-up tension are adding up here at this moment. 

He’s so gentle when he cradles your face, afraid you’d crumble away if he held you with any more pressure. But his kiss is anything but, aggressive and fast, not wanting to slow down as he tried to commit the feel of you to memory. 

He nips at your lips, now plumper and shiny with spit, pulling away slightly as he cradles his face to yours. His hands tug you into his body, cradling your jaw as he smiles, his eyes lidded as he looks down at you. 

Your hands are on his chest, slightly tugging at it as his smile grows, his cheeks all blushed out as you giggle, somewhat intoxicated by the feel of him. You’d imagine what he’d be like, sure, but the way he kissed or looked at you was nothing your imagination could have ever conjured up.

“Swear to god, if I ever say stupid shit you slap me, okay? Knock some sense into me,�� He muttered, holding your cheeks, looking at you as if you had strung up the moon and the stars, and you probably did if you told him so. 

“‘M not gonna hit you, maybe just tell you some stupid puns till you realize what you’ve done.” You tease, watching as his head disappeared, your laugh turning into a muted moan as he licks a stripe across the expanse of your throat, gently biting down on your pulse point as he soothed it with a sloppy kiss. 

“‘Toru,” You can get out, collapsing on the bed as he gingerly pushes you onto it, feeling lightheaded as you watch him kiss down your arms, your hands, any area of naked skin he could find. It was exhilarating the way his lips felt on your skin. 

“You ‘wanna take that shirt off f’me?” He muttered, hands traveling up your stomach, nimble fingers dancing under the cup of your bra, “Or d’you want me to stop?” He’s slow and patient as you quickly shake your head, already getting to work at shedding off anything stopping him as he chuckles slowly, the sound just causing you to grow even wetter. You expertly unhook your bra from your chest, watching as it falls down into your lap, suddenly aware that your top half is fully bare to him. 

But he doesn’t say anything, his body almost malfunctioning at the sight of your bare tits. You almost go to cover them, conscious of his heavy stare, but he gently grabs your wrists, pushing them aside as he moves closer to you, his breath hitting your collarbone as he stifled a groan. 

“Fuck,” He says, not even fully paying attention as he quite literally goggles at your breast, his fingers tugging at your nipples, thumbing at them until they’re slightly swollen, letting his hands run over them as he feels his cock straining in his pants, “S-shit, you’re so fuckin’ perfect.” He whispers, glancing up at you only to see your head thrown back, finger grasping his as you try to make him work faster, pushing them down to the buttons of your jeans as he chuckles, patting your waist once as if to tell you he understands. 

He gets to work, quickly getting them off of you, your underwear with it, eyes darkening as he notes your slick between your two puffy lips, gripping onto your thigh with every possible amount of self-restraint he has. 

“If you don’t hurry up I’ll just tell you a bad pun n-now to get it over with. Fuck just - just touch me already!” You threaten, glaring at him as he snorts, fingers traveling up to cup your cunt as you suddenly gasp, your teasing tone dropping at the euphoric sensation.

“Where?” His thumb slowly rubs at your clit, using some of your slick as he goes at his own pace, enjoying how you paw at his biceps, gripping onto them with every ounce of strength you could muster, “Here?” He asks, using two fingers to pry your pussy lips apart, nearly coming in his pants as he did so.

“This what you want, sweetheart?” He asks, his pointer finger traveling up your slit, gathering all of your wetness as he groans, slowly pushing it in, testing your limits as you let out a wanton moan at the feeling. 

“Yes, yes!” You cry out, your hands gripping the sheets. He doesn’t need to be told twice to know that you’d probably wring him out to dry if he doesn’t pick up his pace. 

But he wants to be slow, not wanting to hurt you as he pushes it in, inch by inch, until he curls it, your eyes rolling back, holding onto his wrist for dear life as you wait to adjust to it. 

“F-feels so good, hmm!” You squeal, your lips barely opening as he pushes the second one in, your words cut off by another moan, whining for him to go faster. You’ve been deprived for so long that you can’t even feel embarrassed at the needy way you yearn for him and his skilled fingers and touch. 

You’ve only ever been with one guy before, and he knew nothing about the female antonymy so you don’t really have much to compare him to, but Gojo knew what he was doing. He listened to your every sound, noting which places made your toes curl and eyes cross, becoming more and more familiar with your body. His white hair fell into his face as he paid attention to you, glancing up at your face every now and then to smile, wanting to make sure that you were okay. 

“Yeah? You’re squeezin’ me so much, fuck,” He starts pumping them in and out, the motion enough to make you go crazy, whining out pathetically as he picks up the pace a little bit, his thumb going to find you, “This pussy’s fuckin’ perfect, fuck, and she’s mine, y’hear?” He asks, only pumping into you faster, his thumb on your clit mirroring his ministrations as you cover your mouth with your hand, not wanting to be so loud that your cries could travel through the walls. 

“F-fuck, just yours! Promise!” You say, agreeing to anything he said, babbling nonsense as you feel your stomach clench, your back arching as he takes in the beautiful sight of you sprawled out like this, wanting to take a mental image to commit it to heart.

“Hmm, ‘Toru, I’m gonna, fuck, gonna…!” You can’t even finish your sentence, mewling at the way his relentless motions never stopped. 

It’s only a couple of seconds before you cry out, his other hand clamping to your mouth to muffle your moans, seeing white as you fall back onto the mattress, your chest heaving with every breath you take as your orgasm runs through your body. It was the most intense thing you’ve ever felt, your walls clamping down on his fingers as you creamed around them, your legs shaking as you moaned out his name. 

He stops, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face as he watches you struggle to catch your breath. 

“So fuckin’ stunning,” He says under his breath, bringing his fingers shining with your essence up to his lips as he sucks them clean, his eyes fluttering shut at your tangy taste, “Taste amazing too, sweetheart.” He takes his fingers out of his mouth, crawling up to your body, tapping on your lips so that they’d open. He pressed his fingers on your tongue, watching as you sucked on them, your eyes never leaving his. He moans, taking them out before he almost embarrasses himself by coming on the spot. 

But he stops when he feels his pants tighten around his crouch, wincing because he clearly didn’t think this through enough. His dicks feels like a heavyweight in his pants, and he can feel the strain. 

“What?” You sit up, worry lacing your features as you balance on your elbows, “What’s wrong?” You're now freaking out inside, thinking that he’s starting to regret this, or that he was drunk off the euphoria and now the realization is settling in.

“I don’t have a condom, and the only ones were in-”

“Geto’s bag?” You say with a chortle, pointing your chin at where the said bag was sitting, “Yeah, I know.” 

Gojo chuckles, patting your cheek as he presses a kiss to your lips, almost not wanting to break away as he tastes everything on them. The chapstick you put on that morning, the chocolate he gave you. Fuck, he can even taste your cum on them, and you have to give his chest a little nudge so that he doesn’t forget what he was going to do. 

He’s agile as he goes through the pockets, almost doing good at shedding off his clothes, grinning in triumph when he finally locates the pack. It gives you some time to really take in his features, gnawing on the inside of your cheek as your eyes rake over his torso, his defined chest that shines with sweat. You try your hardest not to linger longer on his dick, your mouth going dry at the sheer length of it. Despite him prepping you just a few minutes ago you still wondered how you’d be able to take him. 

“If you stare any harder you’re gonna make me blush.” He says, smirking as you discover you’ve been caught in the act. But the way he laughs boyishly at you quickly looking away makes up for it. 

“If you weren’t so pretty I wouldn’t be staring.” You counter, tracking him as he makes his way back to the bed, ripping the condom wrapper with his teeth as you swallow, moving so that your head rests on the board behind you as he grinned. 

“Me?” He cocks a brow, taking a couple of seconds to put the condom on his dick, his mushroom tip leaking with pre as she sucks in a breath at the feeling, hoping he wouldn’t nut too fast and embarrass himself when he was finally in you, “I’m gonna need you to take a hard, long look in the mirror then sweetheart.” 

You giggle, your eyes wrinkling around the edges as your cheeks glow. He moves above you, his own face plastered with a goofy smile at the sound of your laughter. He’d bottle it up if he could, save it for the days when he really needed to hear it. 

“No! I really mean it, you’re like, so fuckin’ hot, liked unbelievably hot.” You smile as he pecks your lips, grinning against his as he shakes his head in adorable defiance. 

“And I really mean it too,” He counters, his nose pressed against yours as you can’t help but bring him in for another kiss, your tongues meeting each other as he laps up your taste, kissing you so harshly that it knocked the wind right out of your lungs. 

When he pulls away a line of spit is connecting your lips to each other. Yours are swollen, almost bruised, but you welcome the slight sting, knowing what it was all for. After all, his are swollen and pink, so you slowly became drunk at the sight of it. 

His eyes travel to your tits and down to your stomach, gripping your waist as he kisses your collarbone, his hand gingerly rubbing up and down your skin, causing goosebumps to lie in their wake. 

He lined himself up with your entrance, your breath hitching in your throat as you felt his tip prod at your walls, and he groaned at the feeling, only imagining what it’d be like when he finally pushes through. 

“J-just fuck me already,” You whisper, your words circling through the two of you, “Please.” You add, and he shakes his head, knowing you’d never have to ask him when your honeyed words drove him to a near point of insanity. 

“Don’t have to beg sweetheart,” He says, pushing himself fully in, the two of you moaning out loud at the feeling.

You clamp down tightly on his dick, and despite him going in as slowly as you could he could feel you clenching around him. Your walls stretched to accommodate his size, and the slight pinch mixed with the godly feeling of having him fill you up almost caused you to pass out.

“Shit,” He can barely get it to pass his lips, finally bottoming out in your as your legs circle around his back, pulling him closer to your sweaty body as he places a hand near your head for leverage, “You’re so fuckin’ tight, squeezing me like that.” 

“Mmm, s’cause you’re so b-big,” You whine out, your nails raking down his back, leaving angry red lines. He stills, clenching his teeth as he tries to calm down, slowly pulling out before he slammed back into you. 

“Fuck!” You moan, holding onto his waist as he pistons into you, his dick shining with a mix of your own cum and wetness, glimmering in the limited light the moon offered. 

His hips slanted against yours, balls hitting your ass as he moved fast, like something in him just snapped, and he couldn’t hold back anymore. His dick could reach that part in you that just made you see stars, hitting it repeatedly until you swore your back could take it. 

“Oh, god, you feel so fuckin’ good, fuckkk,” He drawls out, his head falling into the crook of your neck, panting as his hands curled in the sheets, “You’re gonna be the fuckin death of me sweetheart,” He moaned against you, pressing sloppy kisses wherever he could. He trailed down your collarbone, all the way until he suckled on your breasts, pulling away so that he could give each equal attention. They glimmered with his spit, your areolas swollen from his constant motions. 

“Umph, ‘Toru, s’too much, o-oh!” You cried, the new angle he was at reaching even further and you questioned just how empty it was before him. He dragged through your walls, his thumb down at your clit, rubbing little circles as your eyes shut, too heavy with lust and you couldn’t even look down anymore, gripping onto his arms to stay afloat. 

“Just like that, perfect,” He talked you through it, one hand on your tit, the other busy with your clit, looking down to see his dick disappearing inside of you, going feral when he watched you becoming undone because of him, “Fuck, you’re such a good girl for m-me, y’know that right?” And you dumbly nodded, not able to speak, unintelligible words tumbling out of your mouth instead.

You didn’t expect your release to build up so quickly just after you had your last one, but Gojo was too good, an expert in knowing what places would scratch you in just the right way. You felt the coil in your stomach tighten, your legs wrapping around him as you pulled him in even closer, tilting your head up so you could bring him in for another wet kiss. 

“M’gonna, fuck ‘Toru, m’gonna…” But you couldn’t finish, moaning against his lips as you came on his dick, his thumb not slowing down on your little nub as your legs shake from the feeling, eyes crossing as he smiles at the way you clamp down on him. 

“There you go, fuck, you’re so tight, fuck, I don’t think I’m gonna,” He tries to slow down but he can't, “Shit, shit, shit,” He stops, shooting his load into the condom as his hips stop, his chest heaving manically as he almost collapses onto your chest, your tits pressing against him as he takes a second to catch his breath.

The two of you can’t say anything, your hands wrapped tightly around his neck as you try to loosen up your body, your hair damp, the room stinking of sex and sweat as you try to come back to your senses. 

It doesn’t even feel real, but you watch through hooded eyes as he rises, pulling out of you as his dick hangs limp. He tugs the condom off, hissing at the feeling as he ties it, chucking it at a trash can he found near the desk as he looks back at you, giving you that same debonair smile that still managed to make your heart race despite everything. 

You throw a hand over your face, trying to hide it as he chuckles, giving your hips a firm squeeze as he kisses the side of your ear.

“I’ll be back, gonna get you some water ‘n clothes.” He says, tugging on his pants as he throws on his shirt laying across the floor, not bothering with any boxers as he winks at you, chuckling at the way you groan in embarrassment, tugging the covers over your naked body as if he hadn’t just seen you in your birthday suit. 

“And bring me some chocolate!” You call out, peeking your head out as he nods, shutting the door behind him as you look around, still trying to fathom what just happened. 

He reappears minutes later, one of his tees in hand, and a bottle with a bar in the other. He makes do with cleaning you up with a towel he found, wetting it with some water as he gently rubs it over your sensitive skin, apologizing when you wince, kissing the spots that are still tender. 

You're almost tapped out, too tired to see the lovesick look in his eyes when he pulls the shirt over your chest, laying you back down on the pillows as he rubs at your forehead, thanking his lucky stars for being able to see you look like this; so carefree and happy. 

There’s a lazy smile on your lips as you tug on his hand, not doing much work as you pull him closer to you. Although the bed wasn’t made to accommodate more than one person, he’d be damned if he let this opportunity slip through his fingers. 

“Did you watch Star Wars?” You ask sleepily, holding his hands as you play with his fingers, hearing him snort at the fact that you were still keeping this up. But you still wanted to make him pay, even if he just gave you two of the most earth-shattering orgasms you’ve ever received. 

“Used to, why?” He turns you over so you could face him, bringing up one of his fingers so that he could carefully trace out your features. 

“‘Cause Yoda only one f’me.” You barely get out, giving a little giggle as he pretends to hate it, still kissing your cheek as you slink against his chest, the rhythmic beat of his heart lulling you to sleep. 

He follows you shortly after, his soft snores filling the room as you two sleep soundly. But in the dark, before he lets the sleep take a hold of him, he promises himself that he’d never let you go. He’d take you to Takayama, or wherever the fuck was necessary to keep you safe. He wouldn’t let you cry again, wouldn’t want to see the tears that stained your cheeks because he swore he’d never been in such pain seeing you like that. You were his other half, and no amount of cheesy puns, terrible jokes, or loving questions was going to change that fact. Because he knew that once he held the world in his arms he wouldn’t trade any fucking thing to let it go. 

[nofingjustaninchident]

i need marriage au jason so bad, he’d be such a good hubby

ᯓ★ next to you

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

pairing jason grace x fem!reader

summary just jason being the most awesome lovey dovey person in the world and you breaking down

warnings angst/comfort, a little too fluffy

authors note is that… me??? posting again??? i’m in shock. literally this ask is from my jason event almost three months ago i’m so so sorry

now listening to die with a smile by bruno mars and lady gaga

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Jason spent the day at home, enjoying the peace and quiet of their cozy apartment. He’d gotten up early, tidied the place, and then decided to surprise y/n with something special. He knew how stressful her job could be, and he wanted to make her happy, especially if she had a rough day.  

He wanted to do something that would bring a smile to her face the moment she walked through the door. After a bit of thought, he decided to bake her favorite cookies - soft, gooey, and loaded with chocolate chips. He remembered how much she loved them, especially when they were fresh out of the oven, still warm and melty. 

As he knew that she’d take a little while to get home, he decided to walk down the street to their favorite flower shop. He bought a bouquet of her favorite flowers. After, he went to the store and bought everything they needed for the week so she didn’t have to worry about doing it later, and walked back home.  

As the evening approached, he baked the cookies and made sure they were just the way she likes it. When he heard the key turning in the lock, he was pulling the last batch out from the oven.  

y/n stepped inside; her shoulders were slumped with exhaustion. The weight of the day was evident in her eyes, and Jason’s heart ached to see her like that. But as soon as she looked up and saw him standing there, holding the tray of freshly baked cookies, her expression changed. 

He gave her an awkward smile as he put the tray on the counter, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, you’re early. I didn’t have time to clean the house, but I restocked the things we needed and I-” he said, smiling as he grabbed the bouquet and offered it to her. “bought you flowers.”  

“Surprise,” he murmured, his voice soft and full of warmth. He gave her the biggest, brightest smile, hoping it would lift her spirits. 

y/n was frozen for a moment, her eyes welling up with tears. The sight of Jason, the scent of the cookies, the flowers and the sheer love behind something so trivial - it was too much. The stress, the frustration, the exhaustion - all of it came crashing down at once. 

Without a word, she dropped her bag and rushed into his arms, burying her face in his chest as the tears finally spilled over. Jason wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as she cried, whispering soothing words into her hair.  

He didn’t quite understand why she was crying, but he just held her close. “Hey, it’s okay. I've got you.”  

Her sobs were muffled against his shirt, but Jason could feel the tension in her body slowly melting away as she clung to him. He rocked her gently, letting her release all the emotions she had been holding in throughout the day. 

After a few moments, y/n pulled back slightly, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. She looked up at Jason, her cheeks flushed and eyes red from crying, but there was a small, grateful smile on her lips. 

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice shaky but sincere. “You have no idea how much this means to me.” 

He cupped her cheeks, squeezing her face and kissing her forehead, then her nose, then his lips. “You’ll never have to thank me for this. I'm your husband. And, just like I said in that altar two years ago, I'm with you for better or worse, sickness or health. It doesn't matter if you’re having the worst or the best day of your life. I just want to make it better, always.”  

She let out a watery laugh and kissed him, the salty taste of tears mixing to their mouths. When they finally broke apart, she kept their foreheads touching for a little while and pecked his lips one more time.  

“My days are always better when I'm with you.” She muttered.  

[vodika-vibes]

Hi!!! I was wondering if you could write a steamy imperial tech x rebel fem reader? If that’s ok with you. I really love your writing! ❤️

Simple Chemistry

Summary: You and Tech have been playing a game of cat and mouse for what seems like months. It was only a matter of time before things came to a head.

Pairing: Imperial! Tech x Rebel F!Reader

Word Count: 1668

Warnings: Some smut

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: So. This is based in an AU type setting where Crosshair's chip never activated, but the rest of the Batchers did. So Crosshair was raising Omega alone, and they ended up joining the Rebellion because it's just him. I hope this is close to what you wanted!

“Well, well, well,” A small grin plays on your painted lips as you saunter over to the tall man leaning against the wall, “Look at what the tooka dragged in. I never expected to see you, of all people, in a place like this.”

This was a club.

One of your favorite clubs, for that matter. With dimmed lights interspersed with blinding strobe lights of different colors and loud, thrumming music that you can feel down to your bones.

This is a regular haunt of yours. You’ve recruited more than one young, hot-blooded young person for the Rebellion here. And you have no intention of stopping.

Even if the Empire found it.

Of course, Tech isn’t dressed like an Imp right now. Clever, he never would have been allowed in if he had been wearing the stark gray uniform of the Imperial Army. 

His dark eyes remain locked on your face, and your smile doesn’t waver.

“Well?” You prod as you lean into his personal space, “What brings you to my domain, darling?”

“I am not your darling.” Tech finally says, his lips twisting as he says the pet name that you bequeathed to him months ago.

“So you keep claiming, darling. And yet, you’re here. And you haven’t taken your eyes off me since I got here.” Your voice is light and conversational as if you’re not talking to someone who’s been hunting you for months.

This isn’t the first time you and Tech have met face to face. You’re both very talented at what you do, and you’ve been playing a game of cat and mouse with him, leading him on a wild chase across the galaxy…leading him away from the other rebels.

He almost caught you several months ago, but you managed to escape with the timely assistance of his own twin brother and younger sister. Though, you’re willing to bet that Tech doesn’t know that.

His eyes narrow at you, “I should take you in for questioning.” He says curtly.

“Oh? For what?”

“You are a member of the Rebel Alliance.” He snaps, his eyes flashing, “And you are a criminal.”

You laugh, “Prove it.”

He scowls at you, “I do not have to prove it.”

“Aww, sweetling,” You splay your hand on his chest, and you feel his breathing stutter, “We both know that the word of a clone is next to worthless to the Imps.”

He stiffens, and glowers at you. Likely because he knows you’re right. 

You grin at him, and hook your fingers in the material of his blacks, “Let’s dance, darling.”

“I did not come here to dance.” Tech says, “I came to arrest you.”

“Oh? That’s too bad. Because I came here to dance. And if you won’t dance with me, I’m sure I can find someone to keep me company.” You say lightly as you turn away from him and scan the crowd for someone else to keep you company.

A strong hand wraps around your thin wrist, and you glance at Tech over your shoulder. It would be so easy for him to hurt you, he’s so much stronger than you are, but his touch is gentle.

“Changed your mind, have you?” You ask with a sly smile.

“I am not letting you out of my sight.” Tech says.

“Lovely!” You twist your wrist and take his hand, pulling him onto the crowded dance floor, and then you press your body against his, your arms sliding around his neck. “There,” You say, your lips brushing against his ear, “Isn’t this better.”

He’s tense against you, but slowly his hands settle on your waist.

You grin at him and you lazily start to move against him, and his grip tightens on your waist. 

“Relax, darling.” You coo against his ear, “It’s just dancing.”

Slowly, very slowly, the tension drains out of his body, as he starts dancing with you. And even more slowly, one of his hands slides down until it’s resting against your ass and his other hand slides up to rest on the back of your neck.

It’s a very possessive hold, and you can’t help but wonder if he realizes he’s doing it.

Not that you mind one way or the other. If you had a problem with being felt up by the man you’re pressed against, you wouldn’t have dragged him to the dance floor.

You consider him for a moment. It’s going to be a bitch to extricate yourself from him at the end of the night, you know. And if you want to be smart, you’d put an end to this now.

But if you were smart, you wouldn’t have become a Rebel in the first place.

Lazily, almost carelessly, you press your lips below his ear in a light kiss. And Tech curses, a low groan falling from his lips. 

Score. One point for the Rebel Scum.

You grin against his skin at his reaction and lightly nibble on the same spot.

This time his groan is a little louder and his hips jerk against yours. 

“Ooh, you like that then,” You murmur in his ear.

Tellingly, Tech doesn’t reply to you, but you didn’t expect him to, not really.

“That’s okay,” You whisper soothingly, “It’s a very normal reaction, Tech. No judgment. And no teasing. Not from me.”

He doesn’t react for a moment, but then his grip tightens. His fingers bite into the skin on the back of your neck and of your ass, and you know you’ll have bruises. 

Tech pulls you back slightly, his gaze dark as he scans your face, and then there’s a flash of something soft, gone so quickly that you think you must have imagined it. 

Then his lips are on yours. 

The kiss is hot and desperate, as if he’s trying to replace everything that you are with himself.

He’s a surprisingly good kisser, his teeth and tongue working in unison to leave you breathless and clinging to him. 

Even with all of that, you’re surprised when he tugs you off of the dance floor and down a narrow hall. And you’re even more surprised when he leads you into a small storage room, and he locks the door behind him with a rough hit of the door panel.

And then you’re pressed against the door, surprisingly gently, and his lips are against yours again. His hands, rough and calloused, dip under the hem of your shirt, and drag against your stomach pleasantly. 

“Not in here to kill me, I take it?” You breathe against his lips.

“Annoying.” Tech replies, as he grips the hem of your shirt and pulls it over your head, and then he pauses, his gaze lingering on your bare breasts. “...you are not wearing a bra.”

“Nope.” He blinks at you, adorably flustered, and you grin, “I’m not wearing underwear either.”

A myriad of emotions cross his face, “Why?”

“Why am I not wearing any undergarments?” You ask, “Because I came here to get laid, Tech.”

The emotions finally settle on stark jealousy, “Did you?”

You laugh, your head falling back against the door, “Oh, darling, I’m in a locked storage room, half naked, with you. You silly, jealous man.”

He looks slightly sheepish for a moment, and then he glances at the miniskirt you’re wearing, “How often do you go bare-?”

“More often than not.” You say with a shrug.

Tech stares at you for a long moment, and then he releases a curse in another language, and crashes his lips against yours again, his hands burning a path across your breasts, and over your ribs, “I want you.” He gasps against your lips, “Need you.”

“You have me, Tech.” You whisper as you slide your hands under his shirt, tracing his muscles eagerly, “I’m right here.”

He fumbles with your skirt for a moment, before just shoving it up and out of the way. His long fingers slide across your thighs, taking his time to memorize the feel of your skin against him.

“Come back to the Empire with me,” He breathes as he slides his fingers a little further up your thigh, “I will protect you. No one will hurt you-” He’s pleading with you, half begging you, and you smile at him gently.

“No.” You pull him into a deep kiss as his fingers lightly glide across your clit and you release a gasping moan, before you control yourself again. He needs to hear this. “All it takes for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing,” You shudder as he eases his finger inside you and curls it, “Kriff, Tech-”

“You will not be safe.” Tech whispers, “Let me protect you.”

“No.” You repeat, through breathless moans, and you press your hands against his cheeks, “Freedom is worth fighting for.”

He closes his eyes and presses his forehead against yours, “I want you to be mine.”

“I will not sacrifice my freedom for safety.”

He crashes his lips against yours, his tongue sliding against yours, and he slides his fingers out of you, pulling a whine from your throat. 

Tech tugs you away from the door and sits you on a crate, settling himself between your thighs, “Was only a matter of time,” He mutters against your lips.

“What was?” You gasp out the words as he trails his fingers over your bare body. 

“This. Us.”

You laugh breathlessly, “Too much chemistry?”

“Something like that.” He agrees, and he flashes you a slightly lopsided smile, before he kisses you again. 

And, for now, you lose yourself in him. In his lips and his touch. It’ll be twice as hard to pull yourself from him after this, he’ll hunt you to the ends of the galaxy.

But you have a pretty good feeling that, given enough time, you can get Tech to flip.

That’s a problem for later. For now, you have an attractive man wholly dedicated to bringing you pleasure, and that’s more important than anything to you.

[inkyvendingmachine]

location of JDS,

This post contains spoilers from The Illusion of Living.

Okay so as someone who grew up in upstate NY and has had a lot of interaction with NYC, I had spent hours and hours when Shazz and I first got into BATIM trying to figure out where the studio might be located, (especially when she was working on the rebound comic, trying to find architecture examples of possible buildings that had an theater attached to them, what their brickwork/signage/entry ways might be like, etc.)

BUT NOW WE HAVE A LOCATION. AND A RATHER SMALL ONE TOO, AND I AM LIVING.

“(...)made our way over toward the Meatpacking District, and I took them inside the studio.“

From the 29th Chapter of The Illusion of Living.

So the Meatpacking District isn’t just where they pack the meat, though for a good long while it was most of the business in the area, it’s an actual proper district that is located in the corner of Greenwich Village. I have two points on why this is important:

1. The point that is completely within the book: Sparkle Unicorn was in the Meatpacking District.

It’s just a line very quickly from right before they enter the speakeasy, along with how that side of town was more of a sus place that made all the rich kids feel rebellious. But in the later chapter, the studio is stated to be in the same area, when Sammy and Jack are being taken over to visit. So I’ve been wondering if Joey bought out a building that used to have a speakeasy in it, and that’s how the studio has all the underground floors and such. It’s because they were all old tunnels and rooms for the speakeasy and hooch running.  This could even be why he also specifically bought out the theater later, and/or how he had hidden access to the cat walks, as well as how to have access to the sewers. Maybe he didn’t bust down walls, it just came that way. 

2. The implied point I got from History: The two major sections of NYC that were LGBT Neighborhoods were Harlem and Greenwich Village.

And specifically, in later years the Meatpacking District, was home to many LGBT bars (along with all the mafia/crime that came with it). JDS would be about a 15 minute walk away from where the Stonewall Riots happened. And most LGBT get togethers during the time where Joey was going out drinking were large fancy masquerade balls and theatrical performances with parties after them. Which the party aspect is important, cause that seems to be how a lot of the gay got under the radar: blame it on the moment, on the thrill of the party, or you didn’t know was under that mask, or on the drunk if you’re already under charges for that, or “it was just a performance, it wasn’t real,” Anyways, also gay men were called “fairies” at the time and Joey went to a speakeasy where the password was sPARKLEUNICORN, and that place was totally queer.

( late, okay maybe it is the place where they pack the meat dot joke )

I can’t find any history on a specific building there having a theater in them, so that’s a strike on finding “THE BUILDING” that JDS is in, but honestly I would be more surprised if I did find one than me not finding one. But there is the “Museum of Illusions” nearby there which now I want to go to.

Also 5th Ave is like an hour walk from The Meatpacking District so, the three of them were def driven in something. Just, filling the extra space in.

anyways, TLDR: I think JDS was built in the building of a former speakeasy, and I have a whole new pile of reasons to why Joey is Gay, which are also useable for anyone else in JDS cause the studio is in the Gaybourhood.

EDIT: ALSO I had totally forgotten that Joey’s apartment is ALSO in Greenwich Village, as @thedreamfisher​‘s really good Joey Is Gay post points out here.

[wkemeup]

Sunrise (8)

summary: After an explosion takes his arm and his only sense of belonging, Bucky is content to live out the rest of his days in the hollow comfort of the dark. This is, until Sam drags him down to the local VA and he meets you. (Modern AU) pairings: bucky x reader chapter word count: 5.3k warnings: sweet happy beautiful bucky, a unpleasant reminder of the past, whiplash of emotion, the angst I warned you about 🧡 series masterlist / series playlist

Bucky wasn’t quite sure how to hold onto this feeling without suffocating it.  

It had been nearly a year since he’d felt even an ounce of the relief like what washed through his body when you walked through the door. All it took was a single smile from across the room, the soft brush of your hair over your fingers as you nervously tucked it behind your ear, and he was gone.  

Enough for his cheeks to ache from smiling. Enough for his stomach to twist and knot from laughter. Enough for the wrinkles by his eyes to draw long and pronounced— the physical embodiment of joy upon his face.  

He wasn’t walking on eggshells, waiting for the carpet to be dragged out from under his feet, for the paralyzing darkness of an empty void to consume him whole. The shadows weren’t lingering in his wake, itching to clench their claws into his spine and drag him away from the one thing that finally drew light back into his life.  

For the first time since he stepped back on American soil, Bucky Barnes was happy. Truly and honest to God, happy.  

“So! What do you think?” your voice called to him, breaking the trance he’d been in. 

“Hmm?” Bucky blinked a few times to adjust to his surroundings. You were laughing at him, a hand over your lips in an effort to muffle the sound. Behind you, a woman directed a pointed stare in your direction despite the busy chatter inside Luciana’s.  

“The book, Bucky,” you grinned, tapping on the edge of the binding.  

He glanced down. The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue sat propped in his right hand, the clip you’d given him the first day of book club nestled in at the center to keep the pages open. Truthfully, he hadn’t read a single word of it since he sat down with you an hour ago. His attention had been better kept watching how you tugged your lower lip between your teeth in concentration, how your eyes widened at a particularly suspenseful part of your chapter, how you clicked your nails against the coffee mug in perfect rhythm with the café music.  

“It’s good,” he said, though you pouted at him. 

“Bucky you’ve been on the same page for twenty minutes!”  

Busted. He shrugged, a laugh in his breath.  

“Guess there were better things to look at.” 

Your lips parted for a second, caught off guard, before you settled back into your seat. Your hands wrung out in front of you, eyes darting down the floor. It wasn’t easy to make you flustered, but damn if it was Bucky’s favorite feeling in the world.  

“Don’t insult my books like that, Barnes,” you teased, lingering smile upon your face.  

“Wouldn’t call it an insult,” he said simply. “There’s not much that can hold a candle when you’re around.” 

The stun didn’t leave your face for a few seconds. You stared at him, then glanced around the room nervously as if he’d said something incredibly intimate. He couldn’t remember the last time this came so easy to him – the flirting, the charm. It was something he’d thrived on before the war and now, it seemed you brought that side out of him again.  

“You’re a charmer today,” you observed, laughing through the nervous energy. “What’s gotten into you?” 

“Nothing.” Bucky shrugged, reaching across the table to break off a piece of your pastry and plopped it into his mouth. “I’m happy. Can I be happy?” 

You nodded quickly, almost a little too enthusiastically, with a smile so wide on your face he wondered if it were possible for it to touch your ears.  

“Yeah. Yeah, you can be happy.” The words left your lips almost breathlessly. You were looking at him like he was the goddamn sun and damn if that didn’t tug straight at his heart. “I like you happy.” 

“I like me happy, too,” Bucky chuckled. He glanced up at the clock. “Come on, we should head over to the VA.” 

You downed the rest of your coffee in a single chug and set the cup on the counter. Luciana waved at you as you moved towards the exit, Bucky in tow, and she winked at him as he passed by. He nodded, offering her a tight-lipped smile as he stepped out into the cool Autumn air. Your hand naturally slipped into his and you tugged him along the sidewalk.  

“Promise me you’ll actually pay attention to Steve’s spiel instead of staring at me the whole time,” you teased him as you walked over the crosswalk, nudging his side.  

Steve was giving a presentation at the VA for the open house; explaining the benefits, the groups, different opportunities, and the respite rooms. It was a big deal apparently and helped to bring a lot of former soldiers into the fold. It was one of your favorite days because there was usually an increase of members at book club for a few weeks after.  

“No guarantees,” Bucky replied, face as even as he could manage it. That was, until you swatted his chest and he burst into laughter, drawing the attention of a group of teenagers who eyed him as they walked by. Their lingering stare meant nothing to him when he stood at your side.  

When you reached the VA, you pushed open the door, considering his hand was otherwise occupied, and led him inside. There were dozens of people in the lobby, certainly more than he’d ever seen inside. Men and women were mingling around the tables, some sitting on the couches, with paper plates of cheese and crackers from the grocery store.  

Tony stumbled by carrying about four boxes filled with cookies, barely keeping his balance.  

“I could use a little help, kid!” he called, eyeing you as he frantically made his way to the kitchen.  

“Coming, Tony!” You turned to Bucky, smile still present on your face as you ran a hand along his arm in comforting sweeps. “Will you be alright?” 

“Yeah, I’m good. Go.” 

Maybe if he looked close enough, he might have seen a well of pride on your face, but you didn’t give him the chance before you leaned up and pressed a kiss straight to his lips— no cares for the crowd in the room or the fact that Sam and Steve were lingering around the VA somewhere. Bucky couldn’t find it in himself to worry about the stares because, hell, maybe he wanted people to know you were the woman he had the privilege of kissing. 

“Go,” Bucky said again, pulling away from you reluctantly as a clanging could be heard from the kitchen, followed by an aggravated moan which could have only belonged to Tony Stark. You pouted, stealing one last kiss before bolting down the hall and out of sight.  

Bucky spent a few extra seconds staring down the end of the empty hallway before he turned back to the room. The crowd didn’t bother him as much as it might have a few months earlier. He didn’t feel the same rush of anxiety in his veins as he felt on busy streets, but it didn’t mean he was explicitly comfortable either.  

So, he kept to the outskirts of the room, standing along the wall and observing quietly from the corners.  

The event seemed to be going well. He’d spotted Steve mingling with a group of older guys with long white beards and biker jackets, laughing as they told him about their adventures biking cross country. Sam found his way over to the couch beside a few of the guests who had busied themselves with the food instead and even found a way to get them talking to one another. Bucky kept his hand pressed into his pocket, a semblance of a smile on his face as he watched Sam pick a chip of the plate of the woman he was talking to without reservation. 

It was a good place. A respite. Just like Sam had told him it would be. Bucky found a sense of normalcy in this building he couldn’t have hoped to find out in the real world alone— a belonging – and he knew a lot of that had to do with you.  

He was just about to head down to the kitchen to see if you needed any help when he heard a voice that ran like ice through his veins. What it had said was indistinguishable, but Bucky could recognize the thick grovel of the tone almost anywhere. Slowly, he glanced over his shoulder, trying to remain as small as possible, as he spotted Jack Rollins emerging from the entrance.

With slicked jet-black hair, hardened angular lines upon his face, and a permanent scowl etching down on his features, Jack Rollins was not a man Bucky ever wanted to see again. He spoke with the two men in his wake, gesturing to a woman who was standing quietly by herself, reading the flyers on the bulletin board, as if he were stalking prey.  

Bucky’s heart was thunderous as he took a step back. His black slammed against the wall, catching the breath in his lungs. His fingertips brushed over the chill of the pealing wallpaper, trying to find his grounding before Rollins noticed he was there. But luck was never so kind to him.  

It only took one scan of the room before Rollin’s eyes landed on Bucky. He stilled, just as surprised to see him, but then, something dark twisted upon his features. 

“Sergeant Barnes!” he called over the crowd, a jeering sort of laugh in his voice. 

Bucky gritted his teeth, forcing himself to meet Rollins in the eye. “Jack.” 

“Been over a year, man. How you been?” Rollins was conversational only in statement. His tone was near threatening, his men following behind him like a shadow. Dark eyes trailed down along the empty sleeve on Bucky’s side, a smile rising on his face.  

Bucky tried to pretend as though he didn’t notice. “Recovering. You?” 

“Yeah, I bet you are.” Rollins chuckled. Then, he puffed his chest up. “I’ve been working for the private sector.”  

That didn’t surprise him. Rollins always had an affinity for the darkest parts of the job overseas. He took too much pleasure in the use of his weapon, paid no mind to the destruction left behind in his wake. Rollins was exactly the sort of man the military hoped to produce; follow chain of command without question, find purpose in your mission, execute without remorse. Seemed he found more of the same when he returned home. Only this time for a bigger paycheck.  

Bucky could still picture him dressed in army camouflage with the weight of near forty pounds of combat gear on his back, finger always on the trigger. It felt a bit like that now, Bucky realized, as Rollins narrowed his eyes as if he were going in for the kill.  

“You know, Barnes,” Rollins shrugged, exchanging a snide grin with his friends, “I’m a little surprised you’d even show your face around here after what happened. Takes guts.” 

Bucky swallowed as though there weren’t blades in his throat. He tried not to let the hitch in his breath show or how his stomach dropped about ten feet below the surface. Instead, he pressed his lips together into a thin line, holding Rollins’ stare as if he were made of stone.   

“You should leave,” Bucky said, his voice low enough to break gravel.  

“Me?” Rollins mocked, laughing as he turned to his friends. Then, facing Bucky again as a darkness clouded over his features. “That's rich, coming from you.” 

Bucky held his breath. He tried to draw on images of you sitting across from him at Luciana’s, how you smiled at him, how you made him feel like he didn’t carry such a heavy weight upon his back. He pictured you curled up next to him in your bed, imprints of the pillow on your cheeks and the covers pulled up tight to your chin. He imagined how your hand felt in his, how it brushed along his back, how your lips felt on his cheek, on his mouth.  

But those pictures started to fade the longer Rollins stared at him, that devilish smirk upon his face as he ran a hand along his jawline, cracking his knuckles against the bone. Those comforting images of you sunk into the darkness, pulled from him somewhere far beyond where he could reach and suddenly, he felt like he was standing on a pillar at the center of the ocean, nothing but violent waves surrounding him for miles. Alone.  

“I mean, what the fuck are you doing here, Barnes?” Rollins jeered, picking up a cookie from the table, inspecting it for a moment before he tossed it back on the platter. It crumbled on impact. “You think you even deserve to step foot in this building after what you did?”  

“It didn’t go down like you think,” Bucky shot back, his voice uneven, wavering, as if he didn’t quite believe it himself.  

He tried to repeat the words that Sam had worked to instill in him again and again for months after he came home. They never seemed to stick until the last few weeks but now – now they felt as far away as ever.  

I did everything I could. 

Some things are outside of my control.  

It wasn’t my fault. 

He wasn’t sure he believed that with Jack Rollins circling around him like a vulture, amused by the distress quickly forming against Bucky’s features.  

From across the room, Sam stood up from his place on the couch, a hand gesturing over to Steve as he caught sight of Rollins. Bucky retreated in his stance, feeling as though Rollins was towering over him, his chest caving in. Rollin smirked, teeth bared and ready to strike.  

With venom like precision, Rollins spat, “You’re the reason half our unit is dead, asshole.” 

It hit like a sucker punch to the gut, made him stumbled back a few paces as if he were clocked in the chest. The initial blow only lasted for a few seconds before the overwhelming sense of shame seeped back into his veins, slipping through his blood like muddied waters and stealing away the careful, steady progress he’d made.  

Then, a lingering acceptance as it cleared him to the surface. 

A numbness took over, casting back to the shadows inside his mind. It was what he’d been waiting for since the day he’d stepped foot off that plane – for someone to confirm all the destruction and self-loathing he’d felt since that day.  

Rollins was right.  

I could have saved them. 

I could have prevented all of it. 

It was my fault. 

He’d been foolish to convince himself otherwise. 

“Hey!” Sam barked, jutting out in front of Bucky and shoving a hand to the middle of Rollin’s chest as he attempted to draw closer. “What the fuck is your problem, man?” 

“My problem? My problem is you’re letting just about anyone walk through those doors!” Rollins shouted, pointing an accusatory finger at Bucky. “Your buddy here is responsible for eight of our own coming home in caskets!” 

Bucky flinched, visibly recoiling as if something had burned him, and it seemed to be the reaction Rollins was looking for because a snide grin slid up along his cheeks.  

Steve was suddenly on his left, a hand pressed to his shoulder. He was whispering something in his ear, but he couldn’t quite hear him. He could hardly make out what Sam was shouting as he attempted to push Rollins towards the door. A crowd was gathering – standing in watch to observe the shame of a soldier who should have burned in the desert with his friends.  

“What’s going on?” 

Bucky’s heart dropped at the sound of your voice as you appeared on his right. He didn’t know how long you’d been there or what you heard, but it was the first time he ever regretted allowing himself the luxury of your presence, of your warmth and kindness. You should have been an anchor beside him, but he could feel the rope slipping from his grip, letting him sink down into the ocean or float high into the clouds – somewhere far away from where you were.  

You ran your hand along his arm, trying to thread an ounce of comfort back into his body, but he was rigid as stone. The touch was paralyzing. It was a reminder of his emptiness, of his ill attempt to be worthy of your affection. You seemed to notice as you stared up at him, worry filling your eyes.  

“Ah, so you’ve got a girl now, too?” Rollins sneered towards Bucky, shoving Sam aside.  

“Leave her out of this,” Bucky warned, his voice returning to him only in your defense. He stepped out in front of you, shielding you from Rollins’ gaze.  

It only seemed to amuse him more. “Tell me, sweetheart. What’s it like? I mean, can he even get the job done? You wanna try being with a real man again?” 

It was Sam that roared in response. “Watch your fucking mouth!” 

Your hand rested on Bucky’s shoulder blades as if you were trying to ease him but he felt like he was on fire. Rollins shoved Sam aside to get a better look at you, a predator going in for the kill.  

Rollins’ cold eyes stared directly into yours and Bucky felt his breathing stop.  

“Did you know half of our unit died under his watch?”  

Everything became white noise after that. Bucky didn’t dare turn to look at your reaction, nor could he hear Sam’s defense or Steve’s angry shouts as Rollins continued his taunts. He didn’t know how it happened, but suddenly, Rollins was on the floor. Sam was shaking his hand out, holding his fist against his chest. 

Rollins stumbled his way back to his feet with a vengeance, folding his hands into fists as he charged at Sam. 

“Get him out of here!” Steve’s muffled voice called to you as the crowd began to swarm in. Former soldiers joining the chaos, cheering or barreling fists. A man bumped into Bucky’s shoulder, but there was no trace of a reaction on his face. He was empty. He was numb.  

Bucky could vaguely feel your hand as you slipped it into his pocket, drawing his own to intertwine between your fingers and you tugged him down the hall. He knew better than to look over his shoulder at the mess he was leaving behind.  

*** 

You took Bucky into the empty library, quickly closing the door behind you to muffle the sound of the shouting down the hall. Bucky stood at the head of the couch, his eyes downcast.  

“Are you alright?” You knew there was no good answer. It was a foolish question. And still -- you asked. 

Your hands slid along Bucky’s chest, up to his shoulders to try and draw some of the tension away, and for the first time, he recoiled under your touch. Your hands quickly dropped down to your sides as you took a few steps back, hands held tightly in front of you. A flash of remorse covered his features as he looked at you, but then the stone swept back in its place and hardened the softened edges you adored. You pushed aside the splinter inside your chest.  

“Who was that guy anyway? He seems like a real piece of work.” You laughed, though it was tense and forced. Bucky didn’t so much as crack a smile.  

It was silent for a moment. The only sound coming from the low hum of the radiator in the corner of the room. Bucky’s gaze was fixated on the carpet, staring at the years’ faded stains and the dust bunnies at the foot of the couch. A terrible aching tugging down on his lips, on his eyes, on his cheeks, and he barely resembled the man who had teased you over coffee at Luciana’s just an hour earlier.  

“He was right, though.” 

You swallowed, daring to ask, “what do you mean?” 

“I'm the reason half my unit is dead,” Bucky replied flatly. When he looked at you again, you found his eyes were red, his lips swollen from chewing on the edges. His right hand had indents in his palm from where he’d dug his nails into the skin. Your stomach lurched.  

“Oh, Bucky.” Your heart broke at the sight of him. “That... That can’t be true.” 

He didn’t say anything, but the grit in his teeth was enough to tell you that he believed it. You’d only seen glimpses of how the war had touched him, how it cast shadows over the man he’d been before he stepped on that plane and adorned the uniform, but now – now, it felt like those shadows had consumed him whole. He couldn’t so much as see the soft rise of the sun over his shoulder. He was too swept up in the embrace of darkness. The light couldn’t touch him where he stood shielded by night.  

“Why don’t we go to my place?” you offered, inching a step closer. When he didn’t retreat, you gathered his hand into your own. While he didn’t pull away again, you could feel the reluctance in his grip, the rigidity in his stance. “I can make dinner and we'll throw on a movie, okay? Let’s just get out of here.” 

Your right hand slid along the side of his face, cupping at his cheek. He usually leaned into the touch, pressed a kiss to the inside of your palm. Instead, the most he could force out was a tight-lipped smile that did not touch his eyes. You could practically feel how hard he was clenching his jaw, the muscle tired and aching. Still, he nodded. 

As you led him out the back exit of the VA, you glanced behind you to see Rollins sitting on the floor, nursing a bloody nose as a police officer stood over him, jotting down notes as he spoke with Steve. Sam caught your eye for a second, nodding in your direction. A relief washed through you and you tugged Bucky outside before anyone could notice him slip out.  

It was silent the whole walk to your apartment. It wasn’t entirely unusual, but it was the first time the air carried a lingering sense of discomfort in it. You wondered what was going on in Bucky’s head, how badly he’d construed whatever Rollins had said to him, even before you arrived. Sam had told you of Bucky’s self-destructive habit of carrying guilt far heavier than he could carry, guilt that didn’t belong to him. He seemed to welcome it like it was made for him. He didn’t mind if it ripped him apart and left him broken and empty when it was done. He seemed to think it was what he deserved.  

You squeezed his hand, hoping it might draw back a sense of comfort, but he kept his eyes forward on the empty streets ahead. His hand was little more than limp in your hold.  

*** 

Bucky was just on the edge of sleep when it began to creep up on him. Slow at first, and then, sudden, in violent flashes. 

Sweltering heat. The low rumble of a jeep. An infectious laugh on his left and the cold compress of a gun in his hands. A sudden stop.  

Bucky gritted his teeth, trying to turn away from the images attempting to draw him under, to sweep him beyond the current, to drown him in the darkest parts of the depth. But the riptide caught hold of his leg and forced him underwater.  

Heavy equipment on his back. Sand under his feet. The sun blinding in his eyes.  

He swallowed, but his throat was lined in rust. It burned. He couldn’t breathe.  

A reflection over a valley. Someone shouting. Screaming. Warning. Frantic.  

The kid. Get to the kid! 

Then – the heat of a fire scorching his skin. Ringing in his ears. Muffled. Agonizing silence. Blood on the sand, on his shoes, dripping down his side and soaking into his uniform.  

Pain. So much pain. So much pain. So much— 

Bucky’s eyes shot open. He sucked in a breath of air and it came in short and shallow, barely filling his lungs, and he was panting for more. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, gasping for breath until he took enough in that the dizziness started to subside. His forehead was lined in sweat, his right hand shaking uncontrollably as he gripped at the sheets.  

It was as mild as it’s ever been – the nightmares. Usually, he woke up screaming, his voice so raw it ached until morning. He thrashed and kicked and drew blood until something finally jarred him awake. He’d broken the lamp beside his bed four times in the weeks after he came home. It was violent and messy, and it was a damn miracle he’d only felt a sliver of it tonight.  

But it had been so long since he had one. He almost thought they had finally released him from their hold before Rollins showed up. For a while, they let him be happy. He should have known better than to expect it to last.  

The mattress dipped slightly behind him and with a sharp hilt, Bucky suddenly remembered where he was.  

He turned over his shoulder to find you laying on the bed beside him, hair cast up and around you against the pillow, eyes closed, the steady rhythm of your breaths indicating you were still fast asleep. He stilled for a moment, watching the gentle rise and fall of your chest, the light scrunch in your nose.  

You’d tried so hard to get him to smile the whole evening after what happened at the VA. Constant touches to his cheeks, along his arm, playing absentmindedly with his hand. You made him dinner and curled up against him as you put on a movie that you were certain would turn his mood around, but he remained stoic and cold until you finally resigned to the bedroom.  

He could tell how exhausted you were. Even reaching for his hand, there was a helplessness in your grasp, but you’d begged him to stay, insisting you didn’t want him to be alone after what happened at the VA. You held him tight to your chest, told him over and over again that you didn’t care what Rollins said, you knew he was a good man and that was all that mattered. 

Bucky wanted so badly to believe that.  

But here you were – so beautiful, a light, something good in his life he didn’t deserve.  

Sam would kill him for giving into those thoughts again, but all he had in his head was violence and agony and there you were – so peaceful and soft and kind. He'd taint you with all the mess threatening to break through his seams. He’d hurt you. He'd break you. You couldn’t hold him together no matter how hard you tried. He didn’t deserve such kindness. Today reminded him of that.  

Bucky leaned in and pressed a short kiss to your temple. It was feather light and still, you sighed in your sleep. He tried not to notice when the corners of your lips curved up into a smile.  

Then, he crept out of the room, stealing one last look at you as you turned onto your side, arms crossed over your chest protectively. Something tugged inside his chest, begging him to stay. He could feel it pushing him back toward the bed, to your embrace and the comfort it brought, but he turned his back. He ignored his every instinct to return to your side and dragged his feet of the bedroom instead.  

Despite his reluctance, he found himself lingering on the photograph in your hallway of the Air Force pilot; sandy blonde hair, a tight-lipped smile, features that made him look younger than he probably was. A pang of jealousy wretched into his stomach at the sight of this nameless man. Shame quickly followed. 

You never spoke of the man in the photo – the nameless Air Force pilot who stood at your side in front of your parents. The way you pressed out a smile despite your tears, the position of your stance angled closer to the pilot as if to preserve your last remaining moments together, made Bucky question what had happened to this man. This was clearly a man you had loved. Might still love. 

Bucky didn’t dare allow himself to wonder if he had ever measured up. He supposed now he would not get the chance. 

Bucky let out a sigh as he turned away from the picture. He made it all the way to the door before he heard the squeak of the floor boards behind him. 

“Bucky?” 

Sleep was still etched in your voice. You yawned as you folded your arms, squinting at him to adjust to the dim light in the kitchen. Bucky clenched his jaw, reluctantly turning to face you.  

“It’s the middle of the night,” you said, eyes flickering to the clock above the stove. It was then you must have noticed the jacket draped over his shoulders, boots on his feet, hand begrudgingly releasing the door knob. Your face fell. “Where are you going?” 

He didn’t know what to say. Was there an easy way to break your heart? Was there any excuse that could allow both of you to walk away from this unharmed? There was no good answer, but his silence certainly was worse.  

“Bucky?” you tried again and he could hear the inflection of concern etched into your tone. You took a step closer to him and he held himself firm. He was stone now. It was what he had to be.  

“I’m sorry,” he muttered out, voice low, though he met your eye. “I can’t do this.” 

If you were still half asleep a moment ago, you weren’t anymore. Your eyes widened, lips parting. Your arms fell down to your sides.  

“What... What are you talking about?” you exhaled, barely above a whisper. He could hear the hurt in your voice, the confusion, and he hated himself for it. You stepped closer, reaching out for his hand. “Please, just come back to bed. You look like you haven't slept for—” 

Bucky pulled his hand away the moment you touched his fingers. It forced a hitch in your breath, a step back. You hadn’t expected him to recoil from you like that. Two times in the same day. You were losing him, the realization clear in your eyes. He was slipping and he would not take the tether as you threw it to him.  

“This is about what that man said at the VA, isn’t it?” you asked timidly, your lip quivering. You shook your head, trying to hold back tears though Bucky could practically hear the tension from the lump in your throat. “He was... he was just being cruel. I don’t believe a word of it. And neither does Sam or Steve – the people that love you, Bucky. Don’t give in into him. Don’t let him win.” 

Bucky didn’t say anything, rendering his reaction colder than you deserved. 

You reached out for him again, a habit, though you pulled your hand back to your chest before you could touch him. It was shaking.  

“Honey, please,” you tried again, unwilling to give up on him like you should. “Come get some rest and maybe you’ll feel better in the morning. Just... don’t go. Don’t be alone with this.” 

You were begging. He could hear it in your voice. The desperation. And still—Bucky offered you nothing in return. 

He sank so far inside himself you couldn’t reach beyond the cliffside to offer your hand. All it took was a single push. He was already standing so close to the edge. Rollins had set a hand on his back, like an old friend, like an enemy, and shoved. Bucky didn’t even try to catch his fall.  

“Whatever this is...” Bucky murmured and eyes focused down at the tile, unable to look at you as he broke your heart, “it’s over.” 

His heart was splintering as he said it and still, he turned and left without another word. He didn’t wait for your response, didn’t wait to see whether his cruelty had ended in tears, and closed the door behind him. You didn’t attempt to follow.  

You’d understand eventually, he convinced himself. Even a woman as compassionate and loving as you couldn't possibly love a man so broken, with jagged edges and open wounds, with shards of glass embedded inside him and poison in his touch. Empty and hollow. Broken.  

[you-did-well-moon]

Werewolf!Yunho meeting his mate

Type: Werewolf au, angst, fluff

Pairing: Werewolf!Yunho x HumanFemale!reader

Word count:  2,994

A/n: I know this took a long time, trust me, it felt like a long time for me too. With how I view Yunho, I expected this to be happier than it is. I was having a hard time while writing this, and it reflected on the story. Anyways please enjoy and stay safe!

TW: toxic relationship, financial struggle, deadlines, stressed reader, emotional and verbal pain, toxic masculinity, if I missed anything please tell me.

You sat at the foot of your bed, still not made, staring at the mirror resting against your dull colored wall with lifeless blank eyes. Your posture slouched as you finished tying the laces of your running shoes huffing and letting your arms flop to the ground. Looking at the mirror, you tried smiling, but it was meak and disappeared as soon as it appeared. 

You hadn’t smiled a real smile in so long, you forgot what it felt like. To smile. To be happy. The forgotten emotion was one you took for granted when it was easy to to bask in the warmth of it. Now it's just cold. Cold and empty. 

You looked away from the mirror with a tight feeling coiling in the base of your chest not being able to bear looking at the stranger staring back at you any longer. Your gaze fell to the laptop, abandoned, due to frustration on your desk in the forgotten corner of the room. The thought of unfinished drafts and incomplete sentences shook violently in your mind. Disappointment in yourself pooling in your gut remembering your editor’s words. 

“If you can’t give us at least a first draft by the end of the month, we’ll have to unfortunately let you and your novel go.”

How pathetic was it that you couldn’t even come up with a simple sentence. A description, dialogue, a metaphor. Nothing. Anytime you sat yourself in front of the desk, your mind went blank. The cursor blinking at the top of the page mocked you with the possibility of millions of words. Not one ever made its way onto the page.  

The end of the month was in two weeks. 

You felt tears of hopelessness stinging the corner of your eyes, and you abruptly stood up grabbing your wireless earbuds, phone, and bag. Making your way into the kitchen you grabbed the water in the fridge and placed it inside your back, nothing but a numb feeling alienating you from reality and its broken expectations. You heard the front door of your little apartment open and slam close shaking the thin walls of the building. 

Your heart lurched as you winced immediately feeling like you were walking on eggshells. You were usually quick enough to leave before he got home from work, but you had been a tad bit late this one time. You gripped the strap of your bag tightly hoping for it to ground you through whatever vile words came from the one person you should have been able to trust with your ugliest feelings. 

Trying to walk past your boyfriend, eyes trained on the chipped wood of the front door did no good when he kissed his teeth and huffed as soon as he caught sight of you.

“You’re never home when I get home from work, and the one time you are here, you run away not even saying hi to me? Not even a “hey honey how was work today” or maybe a “hi love what would you like for dinner?” and never a “you’ve worked hard would you like a massage?” It's the same shit every day. You treat me like nothing when I'm the reason you even have a roof over your head woman.”

You kept your mouth the whole time he rambled on trying to ignore the clear stench of beer being able to reach you even with all the distance separating you, and the feeling of disgust mixed with desperation pooling at the bottom of your gut at yourself for not speaking up for yourself. Opening your mouth instead of letting your voice be taken from you. A long time ago, you would always say you would rather die than be without your voice. In a sense, you had died a long time ago. 

Around three months after you had started dating. That had been two years ago. 

Your English degree really did you no good. Not having enough time to be an intern in college really screwed you over when no job would take a bright eyed girl with the same passion in her heart for writing as a Karen’s passion for business that wasn’t hers, but with no experience. Even if the apartment was under your name, you’d probably be kicked out in weeks time.

You hated all of it. Everything that made up both the small and big parts of your life, you hated it. You hated his greasy hair and beady eyes, the nasty rough stubble covering the lower part of his face as a result of his laziness. You hated the hesitation in leaving him because of the fear of the stack of bills piling up next to the fridge. You hated the editors who couldn’t find it in some part of their greedy selves to extend your deadline. You hated the empty drafts sitting in your laptop collecting what could only be dead dreams and despair. You hated the cold emptiness that was always present in the confines of your chest. 

You recoiled at the way he said “woman” the same way someone would talk about a bug. Small and insignificant. Patronizing and confident in the worst way. You set your mouth in a tight line not even being able to look at him. Shifting your feet, you crossed your arms and looked up to the sky as if calling out to some unknown being to get you out of this pathetic corner you were trapped in. You cursed under your breath looking at the dying flowers on the coffee table with distaste as they wilted towards you mocking you. 

“What was that?” His voice got rougher with the menacing edge of fanned masculinity and control. Something that could put you in a dangerous place in a very fast amount of time. You looked at him with dull eyes poking your cheek with your tongue as a cold feeling settled in your gut. 

Your hands fell limply to your side and you chuckled humorlessly. 

“Fuck you”.

Those two words were enough to set him off as you slowly blinked and looked at the ground feeling your heart falter when he abruptly got up. You tried to stand your ground, but the surge of confidence was quickly withering away with fear taking its place. 

Ethan was bigger than you. Even if he wasn’t that much taller than you, there was a noticeable difference in his frame and yours. Weirdly enough, you didn’t regret your curse at him. The words still burned brilliantly on the tip of your tongue. 

It was bittersweet of course. His nose flared, and his eyes bulged as he took large strides over to you knocking the coffee table over on his path to you.

“What did you say to me you-” his words were said through gritted teeth, brash and loud in the silent apartment.

 Maybe he was bigger and stronger than you, but you were faster.

You inhaled sharply reacting fast as your hand reached behind you, turning the knob and slipping around it slamming the door close. Your bag bumped against your back while you bolted to the door with the word “stairs” painted in big bold letters across it. You were already at the door when you heard your apartment door open and Ethan angrily called your name. Threatening to break your laptop if you didn’t go back right this instant. 

You couldn’t help but snicker at the weak attempt. It’s not like there were much but empty pages anyways. 

A heavy feeling soon settled on your chest as you went down the stairs. Your apartment was on the 4th floor, and the stairs weren’t the most taken care of, but it’s not like you had much of a choice anyways. It seemed these days you were always wanting to run away from something. 

Your heart felt a little lighter when the warm rays of sun met your skin and the fresh air outside flooded your senses. Your walk to the park went as usual. Cars racing to get where they needed to, people chattered about everything and nothing, and your thoughts wandered to a world far away from this one. 

A world that wasn’t as dark as this one. At the same time your mind became your executioner, it became your safe place. The sick contrast making a nasty feeling flood your chest.

You arrived at the park with a small smile. The normalcy of the day bringing a little comfort to your still racing heart. Kids ran around, laughter ringing in the air around them as their parents watched on benches gossiping among themselves. People raced fast either by foot, bicycle, or skateboard, a visible sheen on their necks. You looked for the kind old man who always looked after your bag while you ran. 

He owned a music store a few blocks away, and he always sat on the bench closest to the pond with his cute corgi and habitually feeding the ducks peas and lettuce leaves when finished  with a certain chapter of his book. You walked up to him with a small smile as he looked up and took the sight of you in with fatherly worry.  

“You look a little pale kid, everything alright?” 

You did your best to liven up and gave your best customer service smile which the older man immediately saw through.

“Of course Mr.Jung. Why wouldn’t it be? I’m just a little tired from the editors. They’re on my back more than usual”, you laughed nervously as he hummed in understanding.

“I hope that boy of yours isn’t giving you any problems. Hey kid, have you ever heard of the term “break up?” he looked so serious you had to compose your shocked face. 

You waved your hands rapidly “I promise Mr.Jung everything is fine there is...I...oh my” you took a shaky breath as he simply shrugged his shoulders and pet his smaller companion who was having a very serious stare down with a duck. 

You wiped your sweaty palms on your yoga pants while you looked around at the tacky named paths trying to decide which one to run today. 

“The Pupper Runner path looks particularly nice today,” he suggested. You looked at the path pursing your lips in thought. The path wasn’t one you ran frequently. Since it was one of the wider and flatter paths, there were more people such as families or people walking their dogs. You also didn’t like having run-ins with the cyclists who were grouchier around this time of day for some odd reason.

After contemplating it, you shrugged and decided why not. Getting run over by a ticking time bomb on wheels wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen today. With a small smile sent in Mr.Jungs way, you checked your shoe laces before starting out with a light jog making your way down the specific path.

There was nothing really different about today’s run than others. Just having to dodge the wheel demons and kids happily running ahead of their worried mothers. You were grateful for the distraction. It kept you from straying too far into your head. It was just you running. Running like you always did these days, your shoes slapping on the concrete path and Got7 blaring in your ears. 

The heat of the sun shone on your skin, but oddly you still felt cold. It was always cold these days. A light breeze fresh to your burning skin as desperate eyes caught yours, and you were once again bought out of your stupor. 

A small boy was kneeled down fingers clutching his untied shoelaces not far from his dad who was trying to calm a crying baby. You didn’t really have a strong adoration for kids, but his panicked pinched face compelled you to come to a slow stop in front of him. Your chest heaved as you bent down to his level sitting on your heels and wrapped your arms around your legs.

“Hey bud, you need some help there?”

The kid made a distraught sound as he nodded his face shaking his hair out of his eyes. He looked dumb founded as he stared at his shoe laces in search of answers they would never give.

“Mama said to make a bunny, but this looks more like my aunt Carol’s dog” he sadly told you.

You snorted reaching out gently to tie his laces with a double knot.

With a grin you looked up at him ruffling his hair and giving him a thumbs up which he happily returned with a toothy smile.

“It’s alright kid, you’ll eventually get it. Just keep trying yeah? Don’t settle or you might catch yourself tripping next time you go on a walk. You’ll get hurt. Wouldn’t want that would we”, you said, lips still stretched kindly upwards, but something in your words struck stingingly deep in your chest. 

As the kid nodded happily with a carefree laugh you were about to get up when you heard the air being split and a strained voice yelling “watch out!!”. 

You looked up, panicked, only to see a frisbee racing right in your direction with alarming speed. With the goal of protecting the small child, you quickly turned your body. Your shoes making a rough sound against the concrete as a startled light cry left the younger boy’s mouth.

With your hands ready, you easily caught the frisbee gasping at the shock of the situation. You quickly shook it off as you gripped the frisbee turning back to the child who profusely thanked you, his small hands shaking as they clutched onto the hem of your shirt. 

You simply smiled reassuringly tapping his shoe and ushering him back to his father who has begun to successfully calm the fussing baby down. 

With shaking knees you tried to get up only to wince and slightly waver at the sharp sting that hit your ankle area. You clenched your jaw feeling more than annoyed at the current situation in hand. 

You stood up grumbling under your breath as a tall figure jogged over to you. While he made his way toward you, your narrowed eyes met his wide, apologetic ones. 

You felt the world shift around you as a calming warmth shot through your body melding with the confusion and panic pooling in your gut, and his eyes widened impossibly as he stumbled managing to stabilize himself right in time in front of you. His figure standing just inches away from you as his hands trembled, and his lips slightly parted.

You got a slight whiff of cologne and mint, but more than anything, the weird feeling in your gut was making a way for the dreadful panic clouding around your heart. 

You felt warm. 

After feelings of feeling nothing but the hollow cold licking at your veins, there was a nice warmth settling in your chest. 

You were scared of it. 

With a heavy chest you slightly inched back left somewhat immobile due to the aching pain in your ankle. “What the hell?”, you immediately set off on questioning him leading him to shake his head frantically at you. 

“I’m so sorry, i really am.” He put his hand on his chest as if trying to prove his sincerity to you, but you breathlessly took a step back stunned by the intense feelings taking over your heart and mind. 

You tried shaking it off, but the warmth lingered. 

You weren’t sure you wanted it to go away. 

“There’s kids here”, you were so distracted by all the emotions circling your mind you couldn’t possibly put any effort into arguing with the young man. His lips parted to make way for his lips as he nodded his head in understanding. “I know, I'll be more careful next time. I promise.”

Somehow, you knew he was being truthful. You went to say something, possibly something dangerous, but you shook your head and waved your hand. 

You tried taking a step but lightly hissed at the sharp pain that shot from your ankle up your leg. The man instantly dove forward steadying you with a heavy hand between your shoulder blades, and the other hovering in worry near your collarbone. 

With wide eyes you looked at him as he realized his un-asked for touch and immediately went to back away. 

He couldn’t.  

Your hand was clutching the cloth of his shirt near his shoulder blades. Hands slowly uncurling, you smiled awkwardly, but he kept his hand where it was. At his touch, the warmth licking the insides of your body became all the more distracting. 

“Um, I don’t think you can go all the way back home like this”, he cleared his throat looking at you shily under his bangs. Flustered, you smiled at the ground before looking back up and timidly asking “I can't. Mind helping me out?”.

At your question he let out a beaming grin nodding eagerly. He went to stand in front of you, and he crouched down looking at you over his shoulder with soft brown eyes. You did a small jump, and were caught by his hands slightly gripping under your thighs. 

He gave a low chuckle that somehow was felt from where your chest was pressed up against his shoulder blades. “So...what’s your name?”. You let a light giggle escape, “Y/n, yours?”. You saw his jaw move with the syllables of your name whispering it to himself. 

“Yunho”, you smiled also sounding out the name on your own mouth. You gave a shuddering exhale, and you laid your head on his shoulder letting yourself really rest for what seemed like the first time in forever. 

That night you walked right past Ethan who was quick to begin yelling at you, and you tucked yourself under the safety of your blankets feeling the warmth still encasing your heart, so comforting and alive.  

[iovnyu]

aeipathy -- park sunghoon

PART ONE | PART TWO 

genre: ice skater! au, school boy sunghoon, fluff

warnings: cursing, tba

summary: as y/n is trying to juggle being a C student and working at a ice rink, she meets sunghoon - a figure skater with straight A’s who needs to prove his passion to his parents. they just so happened to be in each other’s lives at the right time.

a/n: hi !! this is my first one shot (?) i guess,,, so please be easy on me lol. im going to be making these in parts but i don’t know how long i want it so ig we will see!! but if u didn’t notice i am now taking requests for headcanons or oneshots so please look over the request guide here before requesting things!! also please let me know if you want to be added to a tag list for this series !!

all that was heard was the crisp ice being broke in. y/n sat behind the check-in desk, on her phone playing a food game. she knew that she didn’t have to be aware of the boy on the ice since he came almost everyday to skate. 

although y/n did not know his name, she knew that he had always came at 4:45 -- right after school. he would have his duffel bag hanging off his right shoulder with his skates in his left hand, a tired smile on his face. it was always a mutual relationship, he would smile at y/n and she would smile back. 

it did bug her at times that she didn’t know his name. in her mind she called him the ice prince -- partly because he looks like a literal prince and he seemed like a pro when he stepped foot into the ice rink.

it was nearing 7 and y/n was slowly getting bored of losing her game. she had been stuck on one certain level for the longest time and could not find a way to a customer happy. 

y/n felt a sudden spark of confidence to ask the ice prince his name as he held onto the outskirts of the rink, catching his breath. getting up, she tried her best to flatten the wrinkles on her uniform that was caused by sitting in the same position for her whole shift. 

the sudden movement of y/n’s chair scooting back alarmed him. it was clear that he has never seen her move from her spot at the desk unless it was to close the rink. quickly, he skated off the rink and hopped onto the carpeted floor. 

looking up, he saw y/n walk closer to him and felt his heart beat faster. it definitely wasn’t because he thought she was pretty or anything -- he was just nervous because she looked like she was going to kick him out. y/n saw his fast movements and quicken her pace.

“i-uhm, i never got your name?” y/n blurted out as she reached him, out of breath. at times like this, she figures out why she can’t run for shit -- if she can’t even walk at a fast pace then how in the hell can she run?

looking up, he silently let out a sigh of relief. so she wasn’t trying to kick me out. 

“sunghoon. my name is sunghoon.” 

what the fuck. y/n was stunned to say the least. he had a pretty face and a pretty name?? that is a literal gift from the gods. meanwhile she is there with a boring name. y/n. out of all the names her parents could have picked, they picked y/n. 

knocking back into reality, y/n saw sunghoon looking at her. “oh, i’m sorry. what did you say?” she said, embarrassed because he basically caught her in the act of admiring him. 

“uhm. wh-what’s your name?” sunghoon asked, tilting his head in a puppy like manor. 

ohmygodgodgodoohhhhh

“y/n. it’s-it’s on my shirt” y/n looked down and moved her hair out of the way. “see!”

sunghoon nodded. he had already knew her name but he didn’t want to sound like a creep and scare her. he had been here for a long time so, it was natural for him to memorize the employees’ names. 

y/n’s had stuck with him the most. to him, it sounded unique. it rolled off the tongue in a perfect way -- almost like it was honey. 

smiling, sunghoon pointed to the rink. “so do you come here often?” 

shit shit shit of course she comes here often dumbshit-- SHE WORKS HERE

“oh! i-i mean uhm...” sunghoon said embarrassed. “you know what? i’ll see you tomorrow. sorry.” he said while quickly grabbing his bag and zoomed to the doors. 

“okay!! have a nice night!” y/n yelled to him. 

looking down, she noticed he had left something behind. bending down, she picked up a heavy book that looked like it weighed like the declaration of independence. 

flipping it over and examining it, she discovered that it was a math book with messy writing over the front cover. “park sunghoon’s math book” the pages were scattered with random doodles and formulas that looked too long to remember.

y/n looked back up to see if sunghoon was standing outside but she was met with the sun slowly setting. oh shit i need to get home 

she ran to the changing room and quickly took off her uniform and changed into the clothes she came in with. making sure everything was in her bag, she took a quick glance around the rink and behind the desk. 

well it looks ... okay

grabbing her bag, y/n looked to sunghoon’s math book. if i have time before school tomorrow, i’ll give it to him.... he probably needs it, it is exam season anyways.

she grabbed his math book and ran to the door, locking it so no annoying teenagers break in and play in the rink. it has happened before and y/n’s boss gave her a earful the next day, she was not willing to hear him yelling at her again.

y/n sped walked to her tiny honda car that she had named roxy. roxy has been there for y/n through almost all of her high school life. y/n believed that roxy was on her last straw when she broke down a few months ago, but she had managed to still work properly. i mean, she still drove properly. it is the thought that counts right?

arriving at her house she saw her mom’s car already parked in the driveway. shit i am so dead

getting out of her car, she silently prayed that her mother had just gotten home. she walked towards the door and opened the door, “hello, my beautiful mother. how has thee day been for thee highness?” 

“it’s okay, y/n. im not gonna kill you because you came home late from work.” y/n’s mom said, laughing. 

walking into the kitchen, y/n saw her packing food for the morning. “how was work?” y/n asked, grabbing chips from the snack cabinet.

“it was okay. nothing really happened. how was the ice rink?” 

“ehh, nothing special.” y/n shrugged. “i’m gonna go do homework now, please pray for me.”

“will do, honey.” her mother laughed. 

bringing her stuff to her room, she laid the math book on her desk. assuming that sunghoon probably lived somewhere near by, she began to rack her brain for any schools near by that uses the same math book. the math book looked like it was for sophisticated students. he definitely does not go to a public school

he does wear uniform when he comes in .... fuck

there was only two private schools in y/n’s neighborhood. she decided she is going to chance it and try to wake up early tomorrow to attempt finding sunghoon. why the hell am i trying so hard to give him his book....

“it’s just a damn book. it’s not like he needs it tomorrow right? wait -- he might have a math test tomorrow.... shit.” y/n said eyeing the book.

it can’t hurt to give it to him... right?

[tbzhours]

stargaze

sunwoo x you, high school au, angst, fluffy ending  

[summary] sunwoo is scared of his feelings for you, crosses the line one day and realizes how much he’s been hurting you [words] 2.5k [a/n] not sure how i feel about this but i hope you like this ♡

Sometimes, having a crush isn’t so easy.

Sunwoo didn’t know when it started but when he found out you’re in his astronomy class, he couldn’t stop looking at you. You sat in front of him always so whenever you turned around to pass him his paper, he’d always have this weird straight face. It intimidated you but you quickly smiled and turned back to the front.

When it was time for partner discussion, you turned back to him because he didn’t have the effort to tap your shoulder or ask someone else from his side. It never felt like a discussion because you’re the only one talking and he’s just nodding. You wondered what went on in his mind but instead of asking that, you insisted, “What about you? Is pluto really a planet?”

Sunwoo paused, finding words to say except any compliments that would take away from the conversation. He blinked a few times with an “uhhh” then he finally responded, “I think it’s just a rock.”

“What about the characteristics and its orbitational shape? We have a few terrestrial planets. What makes them similar and not?” You asked, trying to see if he could explain more but he scratched his head and slightly pouted.

“I actually don’t know-”

Sunwoo got interrupted when your teacher asked for your attention to give some ideas from your discussions. He was still looking at you when you gave him a small smile. “That’s okay, I can help you later.”

You whispered to him before turning to the front. Sunwoo stared at himself, wondering if he’s just a rock.

After class, Sunwoo somehow ended up walking with you in the hall as you told him about the discussion question from class. You didn’t know if he was listening when you both stopped in front of your lockers, which were next to each other, but you continued talking while he stared at you.

“And that’s some of the reasons why Pluto isn’t a planet anymore.” You looked at him after opening your locker and switching some things out from your bag. “Interesting, huh?”

“Yeah.” Sunwoo smiled then he followed you, opening his locker and setting his stuff away awkwardly. He quickly closed it, the loud sound startling you. He sighed, “I gotta go.”

“Okay.” You smiled like always. “But hey, our end-of-semester exam is coming up so let me know if you want to study together.”

Sunwoo nodded with a hum then he walked away as if he was running away from you. You didn’t think of it much as you closed your locker and headed to your next class.

All of Sunwoo’s friends were shouting in surprise when he told them about you asking if he wanted to study together. It was a routine after they learned of his crush on you because now, all of them wanted to help him. Sunwoo was lying on his bed and removed the blanket from his face to see their eyes widened at him.

“What?”

Eric walked up to him while holding a chip stick in his hand, shaking it at him. “Don’t you know what that means?”

“It doesn’t mean anything?” Sunwoo’s eyes moved to the side as his voice got quiet. His friends groaned at how stupid he sounded.

“Hey, Sunwoo, you don’t even do anything. Why do you even call that a crush?” Chanhee complained, scoffing by Sunwoo’s wardrobe. He had one of his hats on but he took it off and set it back where he found it.

“Yeah, I’d call that a rock.” Haknyeon joked, remembering every single thing Sunwoo had told them from today.

“Hey!” Sunwoo shouted at him and threw a pillow nearby at him but he caught it and laughed loudly.

Eric shook his head and crossed his arms once he sat down beside Sunwoo. “Seriously, what goes on in your head?”

Sunwoo sulked. He looked down at his feet and sighed, “I don’t know. I just don’t want to hurt them if I said anything wrong.”

“Bro.” Eric started while Chanhee rolled his eyes from where he was standing. Haknyeon noticed and he looked at the two sitting on the bed and listened to Eric continue. “Have you even tried?”

“Tried what?” Sunwoo looked at him. He didn’t hear Chanhee and Haknyeon sighing in disappointment as his eyes desperately filled with wanting to know everything, about how to manage his stupid heartly crush.

“Talking to them!” Eric argued in a strong tone, though his voice wasn’t as loud. With Sunwoo’s puppy eyes, Eric sighed and told him, “If you don’t do anything, then you’re going to end up hurting them.”

The exam finally came up while Sunwoo rejected your study sessions. You understood him and let him off with your regular smile. When you passed the exam back to him, you whispered good luck.

An hour went by and the last person got up and handed their exam to the teacher. He announced that everyone had turned it in then everyone cheered. He got up and sat at the front of the table in front of the board.

“We still have ten minutes left though.”

Everyone groaned and sighed harshly because they wanted to get out early. Your teacher laughed softly at their reaction then he continued.

“As I was watching how hard everyone was taking their exam, I thought about how our future really stands in your hands and-” He pretended to choke in his tears with a fist pressing his lips. Your class laughed and asked him to stop because he was always like this whenever his classes take exams. The teacher got it back together and finished off class after announcing, “Anyway, remember when I said I might give extra credit points if you go see the stargazing event? Well, I’m allowing it, especially if you want to enhance your grade. You can go solo or in groups. All you need is a picture of you there, alright? Class dismissed.”

You were excited. You usually go see the stars at the weekly stargazing even at the local park with the elderly next door from your house once a month. You told Sunwoo about it, reasoning that you kind of want to go and get your grade up another letter and since your neighbor couldn’t go this month due to their visit at the hospital, you wouldn’t mind if he wanted to come along.

“What do you say? Do you want to go see it? It’s super pretty at night.” You explained, grinning once you both stopped by your lockers.

“I don’t know yet.” He scratched his head. All of a sudden, you handed him a note. He didn’t realize you were scribbling something on there when he was still in his head.

“Here’s my number. Let me know if you want to go before this Saturday.” You flashed a smile before you turned away into your locker.

Sunwoo could hear the rustle from your loose paper of notes that were stuck inside your notebook. He was losing his mind. He really thinks you’re kind, too kind that he couldn’t bring himself to say what he wanted to say. These stupid words were running through his head and wouldn’t come out. His heart was racing then he suddenly called out your name.

You looked at him, eyes slightly large from voice. You slowly closed your locker and set your backpack behind you and waited for him to say something.

“I don’t think I want to go with you. I mean, it sounds fun, really, but I don’t want people to think we’re dating, you know?” He chose the wrong words and laughed a little afterwards. Everything felt so wrong when you weren’t smiling anymore.

“Is that what you think?” You asked, slow yet so soft-spoken. You paused, watching how his eyes panicked. You let out a shivering sigh with your thumb scratching the strap of your bag. “You could have just said you didn’t want to.”

Sunwoo realized a second ago that he didn’t mean what he said. He couldn’t find the words to fix it. “I… I’m-”

“No, it’s…” You interrupted him. You didn’t smile like you used to and before you walked away passing him, you told a little lie. “It’s fine.”

“Sunwoo, what the hell was that?” Chanhee was furious from across his room after Sunwoo told them what happened.

Haknyeon suddenly passed a Dating 101 book by Sunwoo’s feet. “Here, you’ll need this.”

Eric, who was sitting on the bed beside Sunwoo like before, kicked the book away and shook his stupid friend’s shoulders. “How could this happen? You just lost your chance!”

“I’m doomed!” Sunwoo cried when he got up and held onto Eric’s arms. “I don’t know what to do now!”

Haknyeon looked up at Chanhee and whispered, “He really just did that.”

Chanhee shook his head when he crossed his arms then he saw something falling from Sunwoo’s sweater pocket when he got up to stomp on the floor like a crazy person.

“Hey, what’s that?” Chanhee pointed at the floor.

“Is that (Y/N)’s number?” Eric asked then he slowly turned to Sunwoo, who was still looking at the note with his eyes wide open. “Sunwoo?”

Haknyeon was laughing by himself, surprised at how Sunwoo’s story was turning out. “Wow, you still have a chance.”

“To apologize.” Chanhee finished his sentence. He walked up to Sunwoo and picked up his note. He gazed at the number and smirked at him. “Do you want this to work or not?”

Of course, Sunwoo did. He wanted to make it work this time, especially when you’re always so nice to him. He couldn’t even tell if you liked him like how he liked you; that’s one of the main reasons why he didn’t try to talk to you. The other reason was just because he was scared but he realized being scared hurt you all of this time. He wanted to fix this when he nodded at Chanhee.

His friends suggested him to call or text you to apologize but Sunwoo didn’t. He was still holding himself back but when he saw that you weren’t in school the day before the stargazing event, he finally texted you.

sunwoo: hey it’s sunwoo! i’m sorry about what i said the other day :( can i still meet you tomorrow at the park? you: sure

When that night came, Sunwoo was texting and sending you pictures of what he’d be wearing from different angles in case you can’t find him later. You rolled your eyes but you couldn’t help to smile because he’s probably thinking you’re still upset or something. You quickly took a picture of your outfit from your mirror but you didn’t send it back to him. Instead, you wrote a text.

you: i’ll give you one of my extra credit points if you find me later :)

Upon arriving at the park, there were already some people there, waiting to see the stars. It was luckily clear out and the sun was setting well over the ends of the sky. You opened a blanket down onto the grass, settling on the spot with other people at least ten feet away. There were many children out and you waved at one when one of them was looking at you.

After a while, you started to take random pictures of the sky and the trees around the park as you stayed sitting. It wasn’t until you turned back to take a picture of the wide dark sky near the parking lot when Sunwoo came into the frame. You set your phone down and saw him blushing his way to you.

“You made it.” You smiled then you patted the empty spot beside you for him to sit.

Sunwoo sat there and hid his hands in the pockets of his jacket, feeling awkward since the last time he saw you. He was ready to tell you his heart when he sighed. You turned to him when he slipped, “You owe me that extra credit point.”

You laughed at how nonchalantly he said. His lips curved slowly on both sides from the sound of your voice then you let him know, “I’ll tell our teacher about it.”

“Thanks.” Sunwoo sighed then he looked up at the darkening sky. “I still have a lot to say.”

“Well?” You tilted your head at him when he met your eyes.

He didn’t know where to start but he hoped that you didn't think he was trying to wing through. “I wanted to apologize for saying about what people would think of us. I think I was just scared of how I was feeling.”

“You're scared of your feelings? Of just being you?” You questioned, wanting to know more. Honestly, he looked really innocent right then because of his sad pout. You smiled a little as he smiled too.

“No, my feelings for you.” Sunwoo chuckled, shaking a hand at you. When he set it down, his eyes got soft. “I like you, I have been. I just didm’t know why I couldn’t show you how I feel about you.”

“I kinda figured.” You shrugged then you leaned back with your hands behind you. You started to look up at the sky, watching how the stars were beginning to show up. Sunwoo was so shook at your side that you could see him from the edge of your eyes.

“You did?” He gasped and leaned forward to see you. “How?”

“You don’t say much and you keep giving me that look.” You answered before getting up. Your face was so close to his that he could feel the rush on his cheeks.

“T-then what do we do?” He stuttered again, eyes falling on the ground for a moment. He peeked back up at you and asked, “Are we dating now?”

You burst into a laugh yet he didn’t join you because he was still feeling bad. You patted him on the shoulder and assured him, “Not yet but we’re heading there.” You crossed your arms, feeling the cool breeze as you continued, “I’m still a little mad about what you did so we can start here.”

Sunwoo took off his jacket, revealing his hoodie from under and he set it over your shoulders while avoiding your eyes. “Are you still mad?”

“Sunwoo, that’s not how it works.”

“How does it work?” He asked innocently still.

You wanted to tell him to follow his heart but you shook your head. “Just hold my hand for now.”

He complied as you smiled at the thought of how funny it would be to forget about taking pictures for the extra credit. You both gazed at the stars soon after. At least this was one way Sunwoo could open his heart to you.

[allsassnoclass]

okay so re: smutless long fics, I’ve tried to compile a list of fics as close to 50k words as possible since that’s the wordcount the anon cited and tbh my friends there really are not that many that I personally have read but I did my best.  All fics under the cut are over 30k and have either been verified good by me or my trusted friends

delete this transmission by @anxietycalling: 67k mashton sci-fi. I reread this one recently and it’s just as amazing the second time around I very highly recommend it

“Yeah,” he says, catching sight of his reflection in the dimly reflective surface and running fingers through his hair to fluff it up. And instead of getting on the mag-train home like he wants to, he catches the northbound train to the greenlawn with Calum. “You know, I think I might not go through with it,” he tells his best friend, meaning his activation. They sit together across from the back doors of the car and watch the adverts for an upcoming showing of ‘Titanic’ at the interactive theater. While Calum sits beside him silently he gnaws on a thumbnail and wonders whether it’s too late to get his money back.

“You can’t go back on it now,” Calum tells him.

And it’s true: His payment has already been processed, the credits removed from his profile. The invoice showed up in his e-net overnight and he’d added it to his encrypted folder. “It’s just - weird,” he says, weighing each of the words on his tongue before he speaks. “To be in charge of another person like that. I don’t want that responsibility.”

I’m a Falling Star by @pixiegrl: 55k lashton fantasy, very cute and sweet

A philosopher once asked, “Are we human because we gaze at the stars or do we gaze at them because we are human?” Pointless really. “Do the stars gaze back?” Now that’s a question.

Or: Ashton’s a shop boy setting out on a adventure to find a star to help grant a wish. Luke’s a star crashed to Earth looking for some help to get back home. They’re both in for more adventure than they bargained for.

I Wanna Sleep Next to You... by milecgv: 54k malum college au.  I read it over a year ago but I’m pretty sure I enjoyed it then

"Cuddle buddies, how can I help you?"

Pausing, Calum thought, he could just hang up. Get over the moment of weakness and face the rest of the night alone. He could do it. But the idea of spending one more second alone, brought a fresh pang of hurt to his heart and really, he couldn't bear it. Before his thought process could spiral out of control, the calm voice repeated itself.

"Um, yeah. I-, I need someone to-" He cut himself off because really, how was he going to phrase this?

Chuckling softly, the man on the other line interjected. "Sir, do you need someone to cuddle you?"

Shit, it was now or never. "Yeah. I-uh, I do." His voice came out so small, and he really hoped the man on the other side wouldn't pick up on how desperate he was.

~~~

Calum gets the opportunity to live out his dreams in New York City but it proves too much for him, and on a lonely night he ends up calling the professional cuddle service he swore he'd never call.

those are the only three completed fics over 50k that I personally can vouch for, but here are a few more longer ones I’ve read and I’ll link some over 50k that have gotten good reviews from my friends after those.

Destination: Perth by onlythevoid: 34k lashton 

The stranger swung into the seat next to him and sighed contentedly. Luke stole a glance from under his hat. It was a boy with light-brown messy hair, reminiscent of surfers Luke saw on the beach in Brisbane - he had a t-shirt on and black jeans, and fade-tint round-frame sunglasses propped on his straight nose.

The stranger caught Luke’s eyes.

“Hey?” The stranger asked. Shouldn’t have looked at him, Luke thought. Too late.

The stranger had set his sunglasses on his head and was peering below Luke’s cap. “Dude. You look terrible. Are you okay?”

Oh, so the stranger was one of those guys. Too friendly and ever-inquisitive. Yes, Luke looked like shit; he’d been crying for an hour at a time, every few hours, and all he’d had to eat in the past two days was some wet broccoli at the hospital and a bag of chips he’d bought that morning in Brisbane, and there were bruises all up and down his right arm from a car crash he wished he’d died in.

Luke didn’t say any of that. He prayed his voice would be steady and said, “Yes. Thanks.”

The messy-haired boy did not seem convinced. After a pause, he offered, “My name’s Ashton, by the way.”

hello, hello by @clumsyclifford: 30k lashton

For one long, blinking minute, Luke stares at Ashton and wonders if he’s hallucinating. Because that’s definitely Ashton. That’s Ashton Irwin, his former best friend from Sunny Days, the show they co-starred on as children.

But it’s also definitely Ashton Fletcher, professional film actor worth many millions, possibly hundreds of millions, of dollars, standing on his doorstep, wind ruffling his hair.

Now for the fics that I haven’t read but can confidently say are good through a rigorous peer review system (aka I have friends who read them/I have read and enjoyed other works by these people)

home is wherever you are tonight by @lifewasradical: 72k lashton. this one is on my tbr, I have only heard good things, and I’ve read other things by Amanda and trust her as a writer

Life has become so mundane in the past few years that there’s very little that sends a thrill up Luke’s spine anymore. It’s that idea that had him saying yes to the idea of moving out here for a few weeks anyways: the knowledge that this was a completely new place where no one knew his name. He could be anyone he wanted to be here, within reason. He wouldn’t be seeing any of these people again after May, so what’s the harm in becoming a new person for a bit? Someone not so bogged down by the shit in their head that they can’t get out of bed some mornings. Maybe this is a step in the direction of the person Luke wants to be in the future anyways.

Or, Luke inherits a beach house on a tiny costal island that needs some work. He didn't plan on falling in love with the guy at the hardware store.

world war series by prettyluke: 58k lashton historical au. Megs really likes this one and I trust her judgement

Even after months of seeing bodies ripped apart by bullets and bombs, Ashton still isn't prepared to be ripped apart by the fragile German soldier who has seen far more than any child should.

and

Luke shows up in Britain after 25 years right in time for World War Two to start, and Ashton has been waiting for someone to yank him from his melancholy since Christmas of 1914.

i’ll keep on fighting (just to make you believe) by @squishmichael: 33k muke I have heard good things about this one, have read other works by Taylor and trust them as a writer, and also I did skim this one when it first came out and it’s good I just need to sit down and fully read while paying attention

“Hi, Mike,” Luke says softly.

Michael might have cried from hearing his voice so clearly, not through a phone line, but instead his smile just gets bigger and bigger until his cheeks hurt.

“Hey, Luke,” he replies before throwing himself at Luke, arms looping around his neck and holding tight.

“Easy there, tiger,” Luke says with a chuckle, but he hugs Michael back.

It feels so different, all the shapes and sizes wrong, yet Michael has never felt so at home, melting right into the hug. Luke still fits so perfectly against him despite everything. Because it’s them, and they’re meant to be, and Michael never wants to let go.

*

In which Luke is finally coming home to Australia for the summer after two years, and everything should be perfect. Michael quickly realizes nothing is.

Under the High Low Lights I See You There by @pixiegrl: 33k lashton 90s bar au. I have heard a lot of good things and I have read and enjoyed Emily’s writing

Luke moves onto cleaning the glasses, sneaking glances over at him, admiring the open blue flannel he’s wearing with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his chest in the white tank top he’s wearing and the pull of it over his muscles, the acid wash denim pants straining over his thighs. He’s attractive and Luke knows he shouldn’t be looking, shouldn’t be so obvious in his stares, but he can’t help it. The man was made to be admired.

Or: It’s the summer of 1996 in New York City when Luke meets Ashton at his bar. Things aren’t always as they seem.

He Did Ballet by @kaleidoscopeminds: 34k cake. people love this one and meg is a great writer

Like the way he danced, everything in Luke's life was perfectly placed, an allegro exercise all on beat, an enchainment with no mistakes. The last thing he needed was a distraction, something to pull his attention away and make him stumble, like losing your spot during a series of fouettés. He glances back towards the bar and sees Calum still looking in his direction. Luke catches his eye again by mistake for just a second too long and Calum smiles slowly and winks at him. Luke shivers slightly and already feels slightly unbalanced. Calum is definitely not a good idea.

Luke's life is perfectly on track. He is about to get everything he's ever wanted, to become a Principal dancer for the Royal Ballet. He's focused, determined and nothing will get in his way. Then he meets Calum, a smooth-tongued barman with dangerous eyes, and suddenly not everything's so simple.

The Sun Is Burning Down Los Angeles by @burstingsunrise: 40k cake. have heard good things and Molly is a good writer

Calum probably signed a form saying he wouldn’t fall in love with the lead singer of the band. And he really doesn’t want to. What a cliché. It’s just…people get famous for a reason. This guy got famous for all the reasons.

***

Calum moves to LA to work for 5SOS.

[votederpycausemufins]

Back at it again with scattered au. And since this is the caves and cliffs update, I really should look at those. :3

scattered au by @hermitcraftheadcanons and also tagging @helleborusangel beacuase they are good bean and this is my love language.

Xisuma waited until the last second to move out of the way, the warden’s fists slamming against the wall with the same force as a ravager, breaking into the wall. Though at this point, it wasn’t so much a wall as it was the end of a tunnel.

He had tried mining his way out on his own before, but deepslate was tougher than stone and that was already tough enough to break with your hands. Plus, chipping away at the rock with your bare hands wasn’t the quietest thing in the world. Xisuma wasn’t sure how many times he had died before he managed to break through two blocks.

But then he had barely dodged what would have been another kill while trying to break a third block, and the warden broke so much more of it. While it wasn’t the greatest plan, it was a plan nonetheless. Xisuma made sure to guide the monster’s attacks at the wall, hopefully in a more upward direction. Once he had any sort of opening, he would let himself get killed and then use his next few respawn to lead the warden as far as he could in the other direction.

The more that Xisuma walked the caves and dodged the warden, the better he got at it all. At this point, even in the dark, it was like he could see the cave. And he also seemed to be getting better reaction times, knowing when the warden was about to attack.

The admin kept looking at the information his helmet gave him. It was set up to double as a communicator, so along with the currently disabled admin functions, he could still see the chat, and most importantly, see his coordinates.

He raced past the Warden on his next respawn, going into the tunnel and climbing through it as fast as he could. He reached the end and hung onto the highest point he could of the cave, finding himself clinging to the wall. The warden reached him, ready to swing, and then Xisuma dropped. The monster punched into the place X had been a moment ago, causing more of the wall to break. Instead of there just being more deepslate,a stream of water fell from one of the new holes. Xisuma felt the cold water on his hands as it rushed past, and then he was killed by the Warden.

Xisuma didn’t care that he had died, he had gotten something better. And that was a way out. He rushed back to that part of the cave and got the warden’s attention before running the other way, letting it follow the echoing sound of his footsteps. It slowly got closer and closer to Xisuma, speeding up as it went. The admin barely cared when it finally did reach him and immediately kill him, sending him back to his spawn. He just found the warden and did it again.

X led it all the way to the other end of the cave, going until they were up near the wall. Then he let himself get killed. He started by moving carefully. He didn’t really have to rush right now. In fact, rushing would just be loud and alert the warden. So he slowly made his way through the caves, finally reaching his exit.

He didn’t care how much noise he made now, there was no way the warden could reach him in time. Xisuma waded into the water, the splashing noises it caused alerting nearby sculk. They started to send the message along to the warden, but he didn’t care. He started swimming up the water with all his might, ready to get to the other side of the wall and escape. Then he finally reached the air on the other side and took a deep breath.

He looked around, hoping he could see the area around him, hopefully from some lichen. While there was no lichen, Xisuma could still see enough to have his heart drop. He hadn’t escaped. This just led to another part of the same cave, except much closer to where the warden was now. Right now, the admin couldn’t see the past few respawns as anything but useless. He had essentially made no progress and was back to square one. Sure, he could try somewhere else, make sure that this time he was really going away from the cave, but right now, everything just felt like a waste.

Xisuma lay down in the pool of water, letting himself float there. Of course he would try later. He was the admin. If anyone was fixing what had happened to the world, it would probably be him since he was admin. But right now, he just wanted to rest. He had run so far, dodging the warden and leading it around. And now he had some chance to rest. A short break before he tries to escape once more. And he would escape, even if that ended up being days or weeks or even months. Everyone seemed to be in their own bad situations, so he needed to find some way to help and fix things.

.

.

Jevin feels the rumbling from below him again. He still isn’t sure what it is. It never has a death message to go along with it. All he knows is it’s below him. Well that, and the axolotls aren’t a fan of it. He pets one that swims by, hoping to calm it.

While he’s got some tools, the makeup of the cave has been difficult to get through. Clay and stone and plants all use their own tools, so going back and forth isn’t the best. Plus, while he found some wood, it’s still limited and he’s not sure how long it would last. So Jevin just has a stone pick and sword, only wanting to use them for emergencies. He used to also have a wooden pickaxe, but he used it up trying to escape the cave, it breaking being why he stopped trying.

Besides, due to the glowberries, he had both food, and enough light that no monsters were spawning. If Jevin really had to, he could stay down there. He'd prefer if he could leave, but it wasn’t currently a life or death situation like so many others.

He pats a yellow axolotl as it swims by, a green spot left behind in the shape of Jevin’s hand, making him sigh. He had started having trouble keeping his slime together, constantly leaving it behind on the things he touched. He’s pretty sure that it’s because he’s in a humid cave, which is making his slime looser, and spending so much time sitting in the ponds doesn’t help, but he hasn’t fallen apart or dissolved, so it’s not dangerous or anything.

And then there’s the fact he’s just had trouble getting out of the water. He’s recently had trouble swimming and his limbs feel heavy when he tries to climb out. Jevin would try to stay on land, but the place is filled with water, so it’s either stay stuck on one or two small blocks making a platform, or wade in the water. And he’s decided the water is the better option right now.

.

.

.

Doc kicked at a goat. He didn’t actually kick it, then it would probably attack back and throw him off the cliff. That had already happened to him more than once. He also didn’t want to stay in place, as apparently the goats preferred attacking him when he wasn’t moving too. So the best the hybrid could do was move around and glare at the animals.

He looked up at the clouds, still walking around. He had seen two different people fall from the mountain hidden above. Based on his communicator, those two were Grian and Grumbot. And then from some achievement messages, it looked like Jrumbot was up there too. Doc was half glad that the robots had come along to the next season, but wished they didn’t have to end up in this situation and instead came to a normal season.

Doc looked back down just in time to stop himself from walking off the edge. He looked behind himself quickly to make sure there weren’t any goats ready to attack him, and for the most part they were, save for two that were maybe a little too close for comfort. The hybrid stepped back to the middle of the mountain cliff he was on, hissing slightly in frustration. The only trees were lower down, so he couldn’t get wood. But then there was also coal and iron staring him in the face from the side of the mountain.

He was so close to being set and yet he was so far. There wasn’t even any water that he could reach with a jump. And he had already tried getting the goats to launch him, but it was always random which way he would be hit, and it never seemed to be towards the water enough for him to make it. At the very least he was far enough down that it was a bit chilly, but not cold enough to freeze him. Though it did seem to be getting colder the longer he was there. But that could just be because it was starting to get late again.

Doc was fine with night. Sure, monsters would spawn, but that meant the goats were more likely to attack them and not him. And if he made sure they didn’t fall off the edge, Doc could get whatever they dropped. He had managed to get lucky with a carrot from one zombie, which was stored in his pocket for an emergency. If he could somehow get lucky and till some ground, it would be a reliable source of food, but until then, rotten flesh would do.

.

.

Grum and Jrum did their best to keep their dad in the blankets of the bed. After that pillar thing had shown up, he seemed to get colder. Grum was pretty sure it was due to whatever ice was used to build it. It looked like regular blue ice, but since it had affected his dad, he wasn’t sure.

Jrum wanted to curl up in bed with his dad, but he still remembered the fact that metal would steal heat that there wasn’t spare of. He tried to hold up one of the pieces of steak to Grian’s mouth, hoping he would eat something, but the only reaction the avian had was to turn his head away and refuse it. Jrum tried to get him to eat a few more times before giving up, putting the food away.

Grum got up and walked over to the pillar. Their dad couldn’t do much from keeping himself alive, but he and his brother weren’t affected by the cold. Fall damage could kill them of course, but just standing on the mountain wouldn’t. So Grum grounded his feet in the snow, packing it down so he had a sturdier place to stand, and then he started punching at the ice. It was slow to break since the only tools he had were his hands, but it was slowly working.

Jrum noticed what was happening and joined his brother, standing on the opposite side of the pillar. With the two of them, the cracks in the ice formed faster, getting closer to fully breaking. Grum punched just a little faster when it looked like it was just moments away from breaking and then-

Purple light started to glow from the cracks and they reformed. Grum jumped back at that, surprised, but then moved forward again in anger. They had to get rid of it. Maybe just be faster this time. He started again, but this time Jrum wasn’t helping. “Come on, let’s try again.”

But Jrum didn’t listen, just ran back to their dad, making Grum stop to turn around. Gria had pulled himself out of bed and was coming over to the bots, wings dragging in the snow behind him. “Dad no! You need to stay in the blankets! You gotta stay warm!”

Grian ignored Jrum and instead went to Grum. The bot took a step back from the way his dad looked, his eyes a bright amethyst color even though he wasn’t using magic. “Dad? Are you okay?”

Grian tilted his head for a short moment with a chirp before he grabbed Grum. “Don’t break it. It’s very important.” And then he started to lift Grum up. The bot struggled and Jrum ran to Grian’s side to try and make him let go. He tried harder and harder as Grian slowly moved them closer to the edge, Grum still scared of heights after before. But nothing seemed to be working and Jrum was also panicking now.

As a last resort, Jrum stopped dealing with his dad and instead grabbed for Grum directly. At first he had no luck, but then he pulled as hard as he could. There was a crack and then Grum was free, falling on top of Jrum. The bots were both still looking in their dad’s direction and were still able to see him. The arm he had been holding Grum in was now broken and hanging at an awkward angle.

For a moment, Grian’s other hand started to glow with purple energy, moving to heal the broken bone. But before he could get far, Grum was back up and pushed him off the side of the mountain. The two bots stared, not sure if they wanted their dad to fly back up, or if they were glad he was gone, but eventually Grian hit the bottom of the mountain, not doing anything to keep himself alive.

The bots both got the message of their dad dying, so they looked back to the bed. The avian was back under the covers, but wasn’t getting back up, instead curled up for more warmth. Reluctantly, Jrum got up first and carefully walked over to Grian. He stopped in place when there was another glow of purple, but he saw something appear in the avian’s hands and the glow disappeared, meaning he just used magic to summon something new.

Jrum finally reached the bed and was glad that his dad didn’t react too violently. “D-Dad? Are you okay?” He asked, and then Grian looked at him, making the bot freeze again. His eyes were still the bright amethyst color they had been before, but they weren’t as mean looking.

“H-hey… it… no I kn-know it’s n-not okay… Y-You two shouldn’t…” Grian chattered out, wishing he could comfort the two bots. “I d-didn’t know th-that it was going to be h-here. I c-can’t get you out y-yet… I’m… one of you n-needs to get down… g-get help. B-both of you if you c-can. I-I’ll be f-fine on my own.”

“But dad, we can’t just leave you here. And we don’t know where anyone else is.” Jrum complained, but then Grum spoke up.

“Well… we actually do. Everything’s processed and… Doc’s down there somewhere.”

Grian shook his head. “N-no. Stay away from h-him too. Stay a-away from everyone t-to be safe. Just g-get to spawn.” The bots tried to say something, but he cut them off. “No buts. I’ll t-try to fix things, b-but it m-might just g-get worse.”

“Why would you need to fix it?” Grum asked, having gotten behind Jrum.

“B-because it’s my fault. I b-brought you h-here. A-and I d-didn’t even ask about wh-who it was. And now I-it’s just going to g-get worse fr-from here.”

“Dad, you didn’t know this was going to happen.” Grum said, though it looked like Grian didn’t believe him. “And we want to stay here and make sure you’re okay since you’re obviously not. I know you wouldn’t want to do what you just did normally.”

“B-but…”

“No, now you get no buts!” Jrum spoke up. “If only one of us can get down, then the other of us will stay with you, and it’s better if we stay together. So we’re both gonna stay up here!”

Grian tried to argue again, but the bots both made sure to keep him stuck in the bedsheets, even tying the blanket down in a few places. “Don’t worry dad. Jrum and I will make sure everything is fine. We’ll be here for whatever you need.”

Grian didn’t answer, just flopped back down onto the bed and curled up. He still wanted to argue, but he was also tired, and one of those was easier to fix than the other. So before long, Grian had fallen asleep, the bots staying nearby in case he needed something, but also using each other to pass the time.

And then suddenly Etho was there, making the two of them jump.

[i-am-bitterly-jittery]

Into The Dark Side pt 1

So I wrote this a few months ago, and I wasn’t gonna post it until it was finished, but it felt kinda relevant after yesterday’s episode so here, take it

No Spoilers!! I didn’t add anything since yesterday (except for like fixing some grammar mistakes) so none of it was influenced by the ep. It’s an AU either way

Word Count: 2400

Rating: Teen

Pairing: gen

Warnings: swearing, suggestive language, threats of violence (Remus stuff)

~~~START~~~

“I want you to make me a Dark Side.”

Deceit raised an eyebrow at both the odd request, and the fact that the other Side thought he could just barge into his study without knocking. “Excuse me?”

“I know that you control the separation between the so-called ‘Light Sides’ and the ‘Dark Sides’. I want you to turn me into a Dark Side.”

“Indeed,” Deceit replied thoughtfully, leaning back in his chair. He was hoping to come off as casual and aloof, but on the inside, he was completely lost. “I definitely follow. Light Sides ask to become Dark Sides all the time, it’s never the other way around.”

“Thomas frequently asks for my opinion, but once I have given it, my opinion is ignored. I believe my function would be performed more efficiently if I were working behind the scenes, so to speak.”

“Yes,” Deceit leaned forward, steepling his gloved fingers under his chin. “Because Dark Sides are known for being listened to and respected.”

“If my opinion is not going to be listened to, then I would prefer everyone stop asking for it.”

“Hmm, very well. I won’t fulfill your request, but just know, everything in life is free. There is never a price to pay.”

“I do not care. I shall pay, whatever the price.”

Deceit smirked at the other Side, and held out one hand. “Then won’t you shake a poor sinner's hand?” He purred, watching the other Side closely.

He took Deceit’s hand without hesitation and was immediately engulfed in a blinding yellow light. The last thing he heard before losing consciousness was Deceit muttering “transformation central.”

~~~

“-you to make me a Dark Side-”

“-definitely follow-”

“-opinion is ignored-”

“-never a price to pay-”

“I do not care.”

Logan woke up in his bed, glasses still on his face. His room looked exactly the same except everything was in black and white.

Odd. Do all Dark Sides see in monochrome or is this some sort of practical joke played by Deceit?

He was scanning around the room, trying to decipher whether or not Deceit held up his side of the bargain, when he noticed that the lights were off. A glance at the clock told him that it was 5:30 am, much too early for him to be able to see anything more than vague outlines without a light on, let alone the most minute details on his periodic table poster.

Extremely odd indeed.

Cautiously, Logan made his way across the room to the light switch. He flicked the lights on, and suddenly all the colors of his room returned.

Interesting

Curiously, he switched the lights off again. Everything lost color immediately, but not clarity.

Very interesting. Perhaps Dark Sides can see in the dark. Further testing is required.

Leaving the lights off — he could see perfectly well in the dark so why waste electricity? —Logan headed to the bathroom attached to his room to begin his morning ablutions. He didn’t make it very far, however, because as soon as he caught sight of his reflection, he realized why he could see so well in the dark.

Ah, this is what Deceit must have meant when he said there was a price to pay.

All Dark Sides had animal traits. Deceit had snake scales covering random parts of his body, as well as a single snake eye and a forked tongue. Lust - while technically a Neutral Side - had black markings around his eyes, as well as having swan-like wings that jutted out from his back. Apathy also had black marks around his eyes - though his trailed down his face while Lust’s swooped back towards his ears - as well as an overly-large fuzzy sweatshirt that’s sleeves extend well past the tips of his fingers. Greed had intermittent scales like Deceit, though his were larger and shinier, and sometimes smoke came out of his mouth. Jealousy had opposable toes and a prehensile tail. The Duke had tentacles. And Anxiety… Well, Anxiety hid his animal traits well, but Logan was sure that he had some somewhere.

(And then of course there was Malice, Pride, and Rage, but while Logan was aware of their existence, he had never seen them before, and therefore did not know what animals they were represented by, nor how their traits manifest.)

Logan now had animal traits too. His glasses were now round with thick frames, and while his prescription hadn’t changed, they were now magnifying his eyes, making them look overly large and round. His eyebrows had gotten bushier and seemed to be permanently downturned, making him appear to be perpetually glaring. And worst of all, his hair no longer lay flat in a simple, professional style, but rather created two spikes on his head that seem to line up with the angle and trajectory of his eyebrows.

He was an owl. A great horned owl to be precise - and while owls were not known to be any more intelligent than any other type of bird, Logan understood that Dark Sides’ animal traits came from Thomas’ perception of animals, rather than from the actual behaviors of said animals.

This shall… take some getting used to. Still, it’s hardly a great price.

After several minutes of trying - and failing - to get his hair to lie flat, he gave up and decided to just start his day like he always did - with a strong cup of coffee and a nice, healthy breakfast.

Perhaps the hardest part of getting to the kitchen was that, other than his room, everything in the Dark side of the mindscape was a mirror image of how it was in the Light side, though, the fact that there were significantly more doors, and a good number of extra hallways that Logan — even with his more enhanced night vision — could not manage to see down didn’t help. It took him longer than he’d like to admit to make it to the kitchen, and when he got there, he was surprised to find he was not the only one awake.

“What the fuck happened to you?” Anxiety was sitting on top of the fridge, eating chips right out of the bag, and staring down at him.

Logan bristled a bit, which unfortunately meant his hair and clothes flared out like feathers on an agitated owl.

Unfortunate. I should make a note of that for the future.

Thankfully, Anxiety didn’t laugh at him (he wants to, though), instead he just continued to stare at Logan expectantly.

“What’s with the owl getup?”

“Ah, that. I made a deal with Deceit to become a Dark Side.” Logan answered, trying to regain his dignity. Anxiety stiffened at the answer.

“What was the price?” Anxiety demanded, gaze scanning quickly over the room, resting for a moment on a dark hallway that didn’t exist on the Light side, returning to Logan only when he found nothing to be out of place or unusual other than Logan himself.

“This, I presume,” Logan stuck his arms out to show off his unfortunate shirt-feathers. “I’ve become part owl. A bird characterized in popular media as being exceptionally smart, though in reality is of average intelligence for avians. A more accurate choice would have perhaps been a crow or a parrot, both of which are not only considered smart for avians, but for animals in general.”

Anxiety began shaking his head long before Logan finished his rant. “The animal traits are part of the gig, teach, not the price. What did Deceit ask for in return for making you a Dark Side?”

“I, uh, do not know,” Logan admitted slowly. In his haste to become a Dark Side, he had brushed off Deceit’s mention of a price, and now he was faced with the fact that he didn’t know what he paid.

“You don’t know?” Anxiety asked incredulously. Perhaps Logan should have been a little more like Anxiety. Anxiety would have never made a deal if he didn’t know exactly what the deal was, his overly cautious nature was what made Thomas double check the locks in his apartment before going to bed.

“No… I do not.”

“For being the smart one, you sure are a clueless moron.” Anxiety jumped off the fridge in one fluid motion, landing lightly - almost silently - on his feet in front of Logan. “C’mon, we’re gonna go ask Deceit what you paid.”

There was no room for argument as Anxiety grabbed his wrist and dragged him out of the kitchen. Anxiety didn’t appear to be thrown off by the mirror image layout, or by the mysterious extra doors and hallways, but Logan supposed that was to be expected.

He has always lived here; he would know his way around much better than I. In fact, he would probably describe the Light Side as being a mirror image, despite the fact that it has the same basic layout as Thomas’s apartment.

“What are these extra hallways?” Logan asked curiously as they passed by two, one on either side. “And there appear to be a great number of extra doors.”

“Don’t go down hallways you can’t see down, and don’t open doors if you don’t know where they lead,” Anxiety ordered sharply instead of giving a proper answer.

“Why?” Anxiety let out an annoyed hiss, and yanked Logan to a stop.

“Just. Don’t.” He released his grip on Logan’s wrist and turned to the door that they’d stopped in front of. “We’re here.”

Anxiety rapped on the door three times. Nothing happened.

“Dee!” He called, knocking again, louder. “I know you’re in there! Open the d-”

The door flew open suddenly, banging loudly from its impact with the wall. A tentacle shot out of the impossibly dark room, wrapped around Anxiety’s wrist, and yanked the Side into the abyss before Logan could even process what was happening.

Barely a second later, another tentacle wrapped around Logan’s wrist, and yanked him into the room as well. The tentacle let go of him, and the door slammed shut again behind him, cutting off the only source of light in the pitch-black room.

“Anxiety!” A voice chuckled. “You never come to visit me! Oh I’m so touched!”

“Get off of me, Duke!” Logan could hear struggling a few feet away where both the Duke and Anxiety’s voices were coming from - as well as an interesting squwelshing noise. “I’m looking for Deceit, why are you in his room?”

“Oh, emo, you’re so funny!” The Duke laughed. “Deceit’s gone.”

“WHAT?”

“Oh yeah, seems he made a trade with a certain, discontent Light Side. I came across this empty room this morning and though it could fit sooo many butts in here, so it’s mine now!”

“Though I loathe to place myself in the middle of this conversation,” Logan interrupted. “Why can’t I see anything?”

“Cuz it’s not your room, dipshit,” Anxiety snapped.

“Now, Anxie, be nice to the nerd,” the Duke cooed. “He’s not from here.”

Suddenly, the lights flickered on, allowing Logan to take in their surroundings for the first time. The room was empty other than for himself and the other two Dark Sides, with nearly pristine white walls and carpet - though a splattering of… interesting colors littered the area around the Duke’s feet. Logan was about a foot away from the door with a tentacle reaching past him towards the light switch.

The Duke was standing in the approximate center of the room, about five feet away from Logan. His two human arms were wrapped around Anxiety, trapping his arms to his sides, lifting him off the ground, and clutching him to the Duke’s chest, while two of the Duke’s tentacles are wrapped around his legs to keep the anxious Side from kicking.

“Great,” Anxiety commented sarcastically. “Now lemme go you slimy-“

The Duke’s final tentacle wrapped around Anxiety’s head like a gag, cutting off whatever expletives were about to come out of his mouth.

“That’s better!” The Duke cheered. “Oh! My my, Anxiety, I didn’t know you were so kinky!”

The words spurred on another round of struggling from Anxiety, but the Duke held fast.

“Now, Archimedes,” the tentacle that had turned the lights on then wrapped around Logan’s wrist and pulled him closer to the conversation, though it was considerably gentler than when it had dragged him into the room - less like being kidnapped and more like having a child excited to show him something. “You can’t see in the dark in other Side’s spaces, it’s rude! You can only see in the dark in your room, and the common spaces.”

“What about all those hallways I couldn’t see down?” Logan asked, ignoring the silent glare coming from the trapped Anxiety.

“Oh those?” The Duke leaned in close enough that Logan could smell his foul breath. “Those are where the Darkest Sides live. The ones that give poor wittle Morality and Anxiety nightmares.” The Duke punctuated this by licking Anxiety’s cheek. “The ones that Deceit keeps under strict lock and key because even he’s afraid of letting them out.”

“Pride, Rage, and Malice,” Logan guessed.

“And me, of course.” The Duke dropped Anxiety in order to pose dramatically, arranging his tentacles around himself menacingly, but artistically.

Definitely Roman’s brother.

“But as I’m sure you know, Raerae, Octopi can fit through any opening they can get their beak through. All Deceit’s horses and all Morality’s men can’t keep me in the darkness forever. Every now and then, I get out and share all my fun ideas with Thomas.”

“Your ideas aren’t fun!” Anxiety hissed from the corner where he’d retreated to as soon as the Duke had released him. Logan noted his defensive stance, darkened eyeshadow, and involuntary hissing, and wondered if Anxiety’s animal traits were perhaps that of a racoon. “Now let us out!”

“Sorry, Tickle Me Emo,” the Duke giggled. He reached a tentacle out to open the door, but instead of the dimly lit hallway Logan and Anxiety had come from, beyond the door was pitch black. “I can’t open doors to the Dark Side unless someone lets me — like you did earlier when you knocked — but since Jay Jay the Jet Plane’s flown the coop, ~no one’s gonna come looking for you,~” the Duke advanced towards Anxiety, his posture and tone becoming less friendly and more menacing. “It’s just you, me, and Pigwidgeon here.”

~~~TO BE CONTINUED~~~

To be clear: Lust is a swan, Apathy is a sloth, Greed is a dragon, and Jealousy is monkey

Ten points if you guess Virgil’s animal traits

Twenty points if you guess what Pride, Malice, and Rage are

General Taglist: @royalty-of-all-things-snuggly @pixelated-pineapple

[restlesswasteland]

Miserables Month Day 4: "Pride"

Written for the Miserables Month @themiserablesmonth High School AU. His hands shook as he painted the three little lines across his cheek. Staring himself down in the mirror, it took a few tries to get it right.

Just three stupid lines, Enjolras thought as he leaned back, turning his head to examine it again. That’s all they are. Three lines.

He took a breath. Went to get his keys. Made sure his parents were still out before heading to the garage to grab his bike. He avoided his reflection in the front hall mirror.

The closer he got to town, the more he considered turning back. But he couldn’t. Courfeyrac had begged them to come to Pride with him. Of course, they’d all said yes immediately, but Courf begged anyway. Enjolras had no real intention of not showing up to support his best friend.

He could just wipe the flag off his cheek. No one would have to know.

But he knew he wouldn’t do that either.

Courf had come out three years ago. No one was surprised. No one cared that he was gay, obviously. Jehan and Grantaire had both come out in their own time, as well. Ferre had admitted he was questioning. And each time, no one showed anything but love towards them.

Enjolras had spent many sleepless nights staring at the ceiling, wondering if the same beautiful indifference would be offered to him.

He’d always known, deep down. But he waited. Hoped things would change, maybe. When he hit puberty. But it didn’t. He wasn’t surprised about that, either.

And he was sick of sleepless nights. He was exhausted. He didn’t want to wonder anymore. He was done.

So he drew the stupid flag on his face and went to see his friends.

He was relieved when he finally got downtown. Any more time to think and he might've ended up just steering his bike into a ditch. Instead, he locked it up and went to find his friends outside the coffee shop that they’d picked for the meetup.

When he got there, he didn’t recognize anyone. He checked his phone, and of course he was early. He was always early when he was nervous. Bad habit.

He ordered a black coffee from the barista and went to sit on the bench outside. He watched as people passed him, decorated with flags and pins and so many rainbows. He spotted a girl with a flag like his printed on her shirt. When she passed the coffee shop, he tried to smile at her, but she didn’t notice.

“Why are you smiling like that?” Courf essentially bounced up to him, grinning and covered in glitter. Enjolras turned to him, noted the rainbow flag tied around his neck like a cape. Courf slowed down as Enjolras looked up at him.

“Oh,” Courf said, a look of surprise crossing his face.

Enjolras braced himself.

Courf took the spot next to him on the bench.

“Enj-”

“No, it’s just-” Enjolras didn’t know what he was planning on saying, searching frantically for an excuse. His brain wouldn’t work fast enough, and he sort of felt like he was going to be sick.

“Enj, I love it. Those colors really suit you, you know,” Courf’s grin returned to his face.

“I- uh, yeah?” He asked, his brain trying to catch up with the conversation.

“Yeah, it’s great,” his smile softened. “Breathe, Enj. You look like you’re gonna pass out.”

Enjolras did as he was told. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been holding his breath. Years, maybe.

“Better?”

“A little,” he heard himself saying.

“Hi,” Combeferre said from behind them. Enjolras turned to look up at him.

“Hey,” Courf said, and Enjolras could hear the smile return to his voice.

Combeferre looked studiously at Enjolras for a moment.

“I like your flag,” he said simply, sitting next to him.

“Thanks,” Enjolras said weakly.

“Where’s everyone else?” Ferre asked Courf, already moving onto the next subject.

“Jehan just texted me that they’re headed over. Should be here any minute.”

“Good, I want to make sure we get a spot on Main Street.” Ferre plucked Enjolras’s forgotten coffee from his hand and took a sip.

“I want some,” Courf whined, reaching across Enjolras to grab the cup. He took a sip and pulled a face. “Ew. Black coffee. Shoulda known,” he handed it back to Ferre.

“That’s mine, you know,” Enjolras protested.

“Mhm. You want some?” Ferre asked.

“Not really.”

“That’s what I thought,” he took another smug sip.

“Hey guys!” Jehan called, waving at them as they crossed the street. Courfeyrac returned it enthusiastically.

Enjolras took another breath. It was fine. He had his two best friends next to him. It was going to be fine.

And then Jehan squealed.

“Oh my god, Enj! I love it! I didn’t know,” they were absolutely beaming.

“Nice, welcome to the club,” Cosette offered him a high five, which he tentatively returned. She had the bi flag on her shirt. He hadn’t known that, either.

He offered a small smile to them all.

“Come on, we should get going. Ferre is very concerned about getting a good spot,” Courf teased, standing. He offered Enjolras a hand, and he took it.

Enjolras let his friends chatter wash over him as they made their way towards Main Street. He slowly came back to himself as they walked, his head clearing. It was okay. It was all... okay.

“It looks good on you,” he heard from behind him. He turned to find Grantaire, wearing an understated shirt (by the standards of those around them), just a graphic of three pantone paint chip cards in the colors of the bi flag.

“Thanks,” Enjolras answered.

“Sorta looks like you did it with your eyes closed, though.” He laughed. “I can redo it if you want? I did Jehan’s before we got here, and I told Cosette I would do hers, too.”

“Oh. Uh, sure?” Enjolras was surprised by the offer.

Grantaire pulled a small set of face paint out of his backpack before dropping it at his feet.

“I don’t, uh- I don’t have anything to take it off with,” Enjolras stated eloquently.

“I’ll just paint over it, straighten out the edges. No pun intended,” he half-smiled before stepping into Enjolras’s personal space. Enjolras reflexively closed his eyes. He felt Grantaire steady his hand against his cheek, then the paintbrush.

“It’s the ace flag, right?” Grantaire asked.

“Yeah.”

“Very cool,” Grantaire said. The paintbrush disappeared for a second, and then was back again. Enjolras tried to stay still.

“Done,” Grantaire announced a few moments later, stepping back. Enjolras opened his eyes.

“Thanks,” Enjolras smiled, still bewildered by him. By the entire last hour, really.

“My pleasure,” Grantaire said, packing his bag back up.

“Parade’s starting!” Cosette called back to them.

Enjolras joined the others by the side of the road. As he caught sight of two rainbow-clad baton twirlers at the head of the parade, he smiled to himself.

He knew he was going to sleep well tonight.

[bonnyskies]

come back to me [prologue] ⇢ jjk

you’re willing to do anything to save your marriage, even if that meant you’d have to sacrifice your own happiness to do so.

pairing — husband!jungkook x malereader

genre — angst, sexual themes, idol au, exes to lovers-ish au, open relationship au, marriage au, parents au

series warning — infidelity (kinda?), swearing, bisexual!jungkook, insecure!reader, unhealthy relationship, unrequited love-ish, slow burn, use of alcohol, mentions of divorce problems, (more could be added in future chapters)

word count — 1.1k

masterlist

“Appa?”

The sound of six-year-old son’s gloomy voice made you turn away from the untouched plate of food that was placed across from you and towards him, noticing the evident frown shown on his thin lips. “Is Appa coming home tonight?”

When glancing up at the clock that hung above the dining room’s entrance and seeing the small hand hovering over the ten, you sighed. “I’m sorry, pumpkin.” Your heart clenched when seeing your son’s eyes glisten with tears. “Appa is really busy with work right now.”

“B-But,” your son, Jeon Minho whimpered. “Appa hasn’t been home in a long time.”

Again, you felt your heart ache. “I know, pumpkin, and I’m sure that he’s very sorry that he can’t put you to bed.” You then stood up from your seat and knelt down in front of him, taking his small hands into yours and pressing your lips against his smooth skin. “Why don’t we have some ice cream before bed, yeah? Will that make you feel better?”

“Yeah!” Minho instantly cheered up, his frowned expression immediately changing into a wide smile, his tears drying and staining his cheeks.

“Great,” you grinned, blinking away your own tears that were glistening in your eyes and standing back up onto your feet, taking Minho to the kitchen and preparing a bowl of his favorite chocolate chip ice cream for you two to share.

.

.

.

Your husband didn’t come home until near past midnight, you waiting on the living room’s couch with an angered expression on your face as he stumbled into the house quite loudly, eyes droopy and face clear with exhaustion.

“Jungkook,” your voice was filled with annoyance and arms crossed over your chest. “Where have you been? You were suppose to be home four hours ago?”

“I was busy with work, {Name}.” Jungkook mumbled out tiredly, taking his jacket off and draping it over the couch.

“But you promised that you’d have dinner—” you didn’t have the chance to finish your sentence because Jungkook was already leaving you and walking towards the kitchen, completely ignoring you. You followed him without hesitation, eyes flaring with annoyance as you watched him search through the fridge, not even bothering to acknowledge your presence. “Jungkook, I was talking to you.”

“{Name},” Jungkook’s voice was low, eyes still focused inside the fridge instead of you. “Can we do this tomorrow? I’m exhausted, and right now all I want to do is eat and go to sleep.”

Instantly, you shook your head. “No, we can’t do this tomorrow. Because I know tomorrow morning you’ll be gone and then you won’t be home again until midnight, and then the cycle will repeat like it always does.” The volume of your voice was increasing and face red with frustration and anger.

“You haven’t spent any time with our son in two weeks, Jungkook.” You continued, voice softening, remembering that Minho was sleeping just upstairs. “He was really hurt that you didn’t come to dinner tonight, again.”

And for first time in months, you noticed Jungkook’s rough demeanor soften and guilt flash across his face. “I’m sorry, okay? Me and the guys have been busy lately with our upcoming comeback, and I guess I’ve been too invested in our music to realize that I haven’t been home enough.”

When noticing the regret on his face, you lowered the glare you had in your eyes and sighed. “Tomorrow, can you at least try to come home early for dinner? It’ll make Minho really happy, and me.”

Jungkook pulled away from the fridge, and you expected him to argue with you, saying how he always does try, but he does something else that you weren’t expecting. He kisses you. Leaving the fridge and approaching you, Jungkook places his hands on your waist and leans down, pressing his lips softly onto yours and mumbling “I love you” against them.

Normally your heart would’ve been bursting with butterflies right now, doing somersaults, blowing up with fireworks, but this time was different and you could feel it. His kiss, his words, they held not an ounce of emotion. Like they were more forced rather than being passionate.

When pulling away and ending the kiss, Jungkook caressed you’re cheek with his thumb and said in the probably most softest, most gentlest voice you’ve heard him ever speak in for a long time. “I’ll try, I promise.”

After eating, cleaning up, and showering, Jungkook finally joined you in bed where you already laid, asleep—at least that’s what he thought, but you were wide awake. As you laid there beside him, you couldn’t help but think back to when your relationship with Jungkook first began. Where you two were always affectionate with one another, always knew how make the other happy, or how to help with if they were feeling down. You two were inseparable and everyone saw that, but now it seems like Jungkook couldn’t even stand to be in the same room with you. The worst part is, you don’t know what caused this sudden change in him, it just happened.

As you laid beside him, you could already hear the soft snores that came from him, causing your heart to ache even more. He doesn’t talk about his day to you, or ask about yours like he always used to do until you both fall asleep, instead he just sleeps instantly, not even bothering say a simple “goodnight”.

But that’s just one of few things that changed.

He doesn’t hold you in bed anymore. He doesn’t wrap his strong arms that made you feel safe and secure around you anymore, or let you rest your head against his chest. He doesn’t place small, lingering kisses along your shoulders or the back of your neck anymore, something that he knew helps you fall asleep. He doesn’t even give a simple peck on the cheek anymore.

Jungkook feels like a completely different person and you don’t know the reason why, and that kills you. You wanted the man that you fell in love ten years ago back.

The one who never failed to make you smile or make your heart skip a beat, instead of being the one now that made you feel constantly miserable and heartbroken.

This wasn’t the Jungkook you once knew.

As you continue to lay beside him, eyes scanning his sleep figure, watching his bare chest slowly move up and down at a healthy rhythm, you could feel the tears once again form in your eyes.

Maybe for tomorrow’s dinner you could cook his favorite meal, maybe order his favorite desert from that bakery down the street from your house. This dinner could be the perfect opportunity for you to figure out what’s wrong with your guys’ relationship and fix it.

Tomorrow night has to be perfect.

.

.

.

He doesn’t show up for dinner that night.

TAGLIST:

@xworldwidecutieguyx​, @yoongis-soulmate​, @jikookvfans​, @heartfeltscribblings​, @chrissfuk​, @blazedprince​

[blubberingmess]

[Little guy: Bubba] *your view*

Soulmate AU

Pairing: Bucky/chibi!bucky x male!reader

• yes, there will be another part but in Bucky's view :) sorry not sorry

Summary: A life with your grumpy chibi, before you met your soulmate.

Warning: none

Ideas for what chibi!bucky looks like (minus the ears and tail - maybe next time). Drawings aren't mine, also the gif below.

More info about the AU (Please read):

There's no particular time or date when the small version of their soulmate-- or what most people called chibi-- would randomly come out from nowhere, dressed in their favorite/mostly used clothes. They mostly appear when one turned eighteen to twenty-five. On some rare occasions, some chibis won't show up until the person turned to their thirties.

No one knows how it works, not even the scientists. They have never experimented on one because they can't, for chibis cannot be killed no matter how you tried. They only disappears when the real version of them dies. But! They can get hurt, it won't bruise or anything but they can feel the pain.

Chibis don't talk, they communicate through actions and facial expressions from what you've heard. Your soulmate's mood affected the chibi version of themself, will mostly find comfort from their 'guardian' but that's all. People will affect their chibis emotionally, but not physical feelings like pain, hunger, etc.

They also have different personalities, the same personality your soulmate already have and also the personality they would build themselves from how you would treat them.

They eat, drink, sleep like normal people would. They have a mind of their own and as smart as the person they represent.

They also age, their skin wrinkles and their hair grays as well. One woman you found out that her soulmate is twenty years older than her, a few gray streaks of hairs can be seen on her chibi.

Also, they are as small as the size of you hand - even taller depends on your soulmate. But the chibi with the size of your palm are almost always be 6ft < your soulmate. That means if you're smaller than him, your chibi self will be smaller than your palm which means it'll be so much smaller than your soulmate's palm which is.... oh god. You'll get squished! But that's okay, your chibi self can't die ;)

While your soulmate is the person representing your chibi, your chibi's soulmate is your soulmate's chibi :) chibi's are much more emotional - the real emotion of the person. For example; your soulmate is angry at you while his chibi self is not, then that means he isn't actually angry.

More info about them as you read through the story :)

Ask me anything about it if your ever confused or curious and I'll try my hardest to answer it ♡ or this AU is already made, then I apologize if I explained something wrong. This is just how I see this AU would work :)

Also, if you don't like or against fics like this, you are very much welcome to ignore this or unfollow me (igaf, boo) I support LGBTQ+ wether you like it or not~

[Chibi!Winter Soldier]

It was a cold night of December when you first met your chibi, a rather scary meeting to be honest. You were just making yourself a cup of hot cocoa when you heard a shuffling behind you, it was almost inaudible but you heard it.

Slowly turning around, you didn't see anyone, but you did saw something move on the counter just behind the large bowl of fruits you have. There's a pair of steely blue eyes on top of the bananas, quickly ducking down as soon as it saw you snapping your eyes at it. Though, it was no use, it has already been caught and the mop of brunette can still be seen from your point of view.

"You know I can see you right?" Your voice laced with amusement as you spoke, already knew what the small guy is. The chibi tensed, the top of its head poking up more from behind the yellow fruit.

"Its okay, little guy, I'm not going to hurt you," you coaxed the chibi with a soft voice, letting them know you genuinely don't mean any harm. Regardless of how calm your voice sounds, your inner self is currently freaking out at this moment. Heart hammering against your chest as you anticipate on what's about to happen; excited to finally meet your chibi, the mini version of your soulmate!

Slowly but surely, you sees him peek half of his head to the side. Frosty blue eyes staring up at you cautiously-- curiously-- as he analyze your face for a moment before slowly completely stepping out from his hiding place, an arm behind his back.

You immediately noticed the mask that's covering the lower part of his face, and his clothes; some type of tactical gear.

Is your soulmate a soldier or something? An agent?

You were about to take a step forward to properly greet the chibi when he suddenly pulls out a knife from behind him, held by a metal arm, the same arm he's been hiding as he stepped out. A small, but surprisingly intimidating growl emits from him making you lift your hands up in surrender.

"Woah there, buddy! I thought chibis were supposed to be soft and loving? I didn't know they would also want to stab you in the freaking face!"

Another growl before he pulled out something from his thigh holster; a handgun.

You gulped. "Or two. Damn."

He didn't do anything but glare at you, and if looks could kill, you would've been six - no, sixty feet below right now. The chibi's action confuses you greatly, especially after hearing about them being really clingy and sweet towards their 'guardian'; not this!

My soulmate must be a real hot-headed motherfu--

Your thought was cut off by a low rumble that reverberated throughout the whole kitchen, disrupting the tense silence between the two of you. Looking around the kitchen and back down at the small, feisty chibi, you gave him a nervous smile and asks, "You hungry?"

The chibi's eyes flickers at the warm mug behind you then back up at your eyes, silently asking - no- commanding you. You cautiously and slowly dropped down your right hand, stiffening as you heard him cocked his tiny gun.

You doubt it could actually kill you but it still looks intimidating, especially the little guy who is aiming it at you.

"I'm just gonna give you the mug, see?" You grabbed the now warm cocoa and a thin straw you didn't know you'll actually need until now. Slowly making your way towards the counter where he stands, you carefully placing the coffee beside him before walking backwards on your previous spot.

He gingerly lowers his weapons, tucking them back inside his pocket and holster and walked towards the mug, not before giving you a warning look.

"Cookies?" You didng wait for a reply as you began searching through your cupboards, it's not like you expected it considering chibis can't talk.

The intimidating chibi watches you as he took a sip from the thin straw, following your every move with curious eyes. He can't help but feel guilty from his not-so-friendly first impression, it's his instinct to pull out a weapon - well, it's actually your soulmate's instinct, but there's truly nothing in his mind that could push him to actually hurt you.

Your soulmate would've done the same.

Placing the small plate of assorted cookies beside him, you crouched down and watches as he took a broken piece and began nibbling on it, giving you a chance to get a closer look at him.

His mask is now off and resting close to him, making you see his whole face. His lips are pink and a bit upturned on the sides, stubble around the lower part of his face. He looks gloomy and tired, like there's something bothering him for days - even months. No doubt there's not, from how he looks and how he acted a few minutes ago, you could instantly tell that your soulmate isn't like anybody else.

It scares you and excites you at the same time.

You came back to reality when you noticed that something is being pushed right in front of your face, it's a mini chocolate chip cookie. Trailing your eyes from the cookie and to the chibi who's holding it out for you, a smile adorned your face when you saw him looking to the side with a nonchalant look on his face, a small blush on his cheeks.

"Hey bubba? Have you seen my pen?" You mutter-ask from your spot on the couch, looking around for your pen. Bubba (What you decided to call him) opened his eyes from the armrest of the couch on your left, looking up at you while still nibbling on his plum.

It's been three year since your first meeting with your chibi and living with the little guy isn't as bad as you thought it would, just scary. He would still glare at you and send you frosty looks but only when you would do something stupid or idiotic, but he immediately warms up at you after a few days.

Bubba gave you an 'are you serious' look before lifting his flesh hand up and tapping his ears two times before lowering them back down on his half-eaten plum. You kink an eyebrow before reaching up to your right ear and felt the pen you've been looking for the past five minutes, propping your left arm on the armrest behind Bubba.

"Thanks, little dude!"

Bubba just sassily rolled his eyes before he resumed nibbling on his beloved plum, eyes closing in bliss and instinctively leaning back on your arm as he do so.

Who knew the grumpy chibi likes to cuddle and curl up against you when you're reading or working inside your office, sometimes would even take a nap on your shoulder, on top of your head, or your lap kid he feels like it.

What you also noticed is that the little guy likes to eat, a lot, he would practically order you around to make him something sweet or savory, maybe even both. You don't actually mind, you like taking care of him, you just wish you could also take care of your soulmate like how you would take care of the chibi.

You learned that if your chibi would act this way; asking for different kinds of foods and demands affection from you, that means your soulmate is craving them just as much. But sadly, you're not there to actually give him what he needs, you doubt the chibi version of yourself could... maybe?

Oh how it breaks your heart everytime.

Speaking of breaking your heart, how many times had you woken up at the sound of Bubba's whimpers and cries at early mornings around two or four. Everytime he would curl up against your chest, crying and clutching at your shirt as you let him soak your shirt with his tears.

"Hey-hey, it's okay. It's okay, Bubba. Shh, you're okay. I got you, don't worry." you cooed, scooping the chibi with both of your hands. Bubba's shaking immediately subsides the moment he felt your soft, gentle touch on his back, breathing heavily while tightening his hold on your thumb like it's his lifeline.

Glossy blue eyes looking up at you in pain and sadness; almost begging, lips quivering as tears began pouring out from his eyes. Your heart clenched inside your chest as you watched him breakdown in your hands.

You want to calm him down. You want to help him so bad to get rid of the pain, the sadness, but you can't. Unless your soulmate can't calm down, the chibi in your hands won't.

Thankfully, episodes like that don't happened often and doesn't last long - not anymore. A small mood swings here and there but it would almost always immediately diminished after a minute or two.

Your soulmate's chibi must be calming him down. Good job, me that is also not me.

When you go out which isn't that often considering you work from home-- also seeing that you don't have that much friends outside to go away with-- Bubba will be guarded and on your shoulder at all times with his small metal hand on the back of your neck. He'll always have that deep scowl on his face that only softening up when looking at you or when you offer him sweets - ice cream preferably.

You did left him one time, only coming back to a very stressed out and dishielved looking Bubba. Thinking at first that your soulmate is in another one of his heart wrenching episode, but it wasn't. You noticed it the moment you stepped inside the living room and seeing him perched up on the windowsill, his eyes immediately brightens up when he sees you - before frowning once again, crossing his arms over his chest and turning away from you with a pout.

You just sigh and didn't even make a move to hide the smile on your face.

Your chibi is such a drama queen.

[Chibi!Runningawayfromeveryone!Bucky]

You felt something lightly tickled your cheek but you're still sleepy to do anything about it, ignoring the next one your forehead, then on your other cheek, and then your temple. The small of plum and something woody with a hint of gun powder enters your nostril, a familiar scent you grew accustomed to for the past five years with your chibi.

"I'm awake. Geez, Bubba, good morning to you too." you chuckled, patting the said chibi on his head. Bubba grin up at you before giving you a sweet kiss on your nose then began nuzzling into your neck, sighing in content.

The temperature in Bucharest this time of year is quite cold but you're happy that it doesn't bother your chibi, he actually likes it. You decided to have a vacation; just you and Bubba, away from New York, your migraine inducing work - your family. It's all just too much for you to handle.

Bubba was the one who actually chose Bucharest for some unknown reason, he really wanted to go there and who are you to turn him down? Especially when he looks up at you with those big, pleading eyes of his.

Ugh. If this what your soulmate looks like, you don't know if you can handle him. You don't even know if you can say 'no' to him! Now that's scary.

Lifting up your gaze at the ceiling, a frown quickly replaced the soft smile on your face at the thought of your soulmate.

It's been five years since your chibi appeared and you're still yet to see him. You've hang out with the small group of friends you have, relatives, and even visit places you've never visited before with Bubba by your side, but it's all fruitless.

Maybe he's gone? No, Bubba is still here (snoring soundly). Maybe he don't want you? Can't be... right? Bubba likes you and find comfort in your touch. But... maybe it's just Bubba himself and not really your soulmate.

"Bubba stop moving around!" You hissed, gently grabbing the said chibi from your head. He started wriggling around like an excited puppy and tugging at your hair the moment the two of you stepped out from the hotel building, it's a weird behavior you haven't seen him in before.

"What got you so excited, little guy? We're just visiting the market nearby to buy some peaches... Maybe some plums as well. Actually, I'm craving for some corvig."

Bubba half-heartedly listened to you ramble while his eyes roams the market sharply, ears peeled and nose constantly sniffing the air. What you didn't know is that chibis will act like that-- excited and eyes darting from one place to another-- if it means your soulmate is nearby, their senses are tingling and they can feel their heart getting warmer the shorter the distance you are from your soulmate - also Bubba's too.

You stopped in the middle of the market, looking for the particular stall that sells peaches. Bubba is also looking around but for a different reason, absently clutching at his shirt where his supposedly heart is located.

"Why's there no fruit stalls around? Is it on the other side of the market?" You groaned, pulling out your phone. The people around you gave you looks, some with confusion but most of them are uneasiness, thinking you're somewhat scolding your chibi before going back to what they were doing, but now all of them had stepped/walked away from you.

It's not like you cared, the first thing on your mind right now is peaches and plums, also corvig.

You suddenly heard Bubba let out a noise, a squeak-like of grunt before scrambling off your shoulder and down to the pavement with ease. It took you a few seconds to comprehend what just happened before snapping out of it and sprinting towards where Bubba run off to.

Damn, didn't know chibis could run so fast.

"Bubba! Where are-- you." Your last word changed it's aim from Bubba to the man before you, staring back at you with the same surprised expression on his face. His hands are half stretched in front of him before dropping them down to his sides, straightening his back.

Your eyes swing down to the two chibis who are currently busy hugging each other, giggling as hearts and flowers practically floats around them. You watched as Bubba kissed the other chibi on the cheek before nuzzling his head on his shoulder, who squeaked in happiness before burying his face on his chest, obviously much more smaller that Bubba.

The chibi is... you - a chibi version of you exactly; dressed like you and almost looks exactly like you.

Gazing back up at the big version of Bubba or your soulmate, you cleared your throat and was about to step forward to introduce yourself when he suddenly took a step back, his left hand quickly moved to his back.

And then he growls.

You whole body steeled once you heard the sound left his lips and your hands are lifted up in a split second, enough to for him to notice but not enough draw any attention towards the both of you.

With him ready to pull out a weapon behind his back whilst glaring at you with ice-cold, guarded look in his eyes, and you with your hands up in surrender was all too familiar it makes you want to laugh and crack a joke.

"I thought soulmates were supposed to be soft and loving? I didn't know they would also want to stab you in the freaking face!"

Please tag me if you ever tried this Soulmate AU. I really want to read one 💕💕 I hope you enjoyed it. There's a part 2 but in Bucky's view of chibi!You suddenly popping up in his life like fairy god mother.

If there are misused words or wrong grammars, don't be shy to tell me!

[mcfiddlestan]

WinterFrost Single Dads AU

Hey, ya'll. Told ya I was working on this thing. I've got about six chapters done, but I'm not ready to post it to AO3 just yet. One big reason for that is I don't have a title yet. So I thought I'd post a couple of chapters, let ya'll get a feel for it, then take any suggestions you might have.

Just a small note: I tend to name fics after song titles that inspired the story or somehow fit with the plot.

Anyhoo...here's the first chapter. I *might* post the second tomorrow. We'll see how the response to this goes.

xoxo, La

Pairing: Loki x Bucky Barnes (there are others past and future, but I'm not giving them away just yet)

Rating: M

Word count: 1,775

Summary: Loki is living a great life as a Manhattan lawyer and constantly partying with Tony Stark, his best friend. Loki's life before he came to New York more than a decade ago is a mystery for those close to him. But it's all about to come to light when he gets a call from someone in his past.

Bucky is just trying to catch a break. A few hookups with a fellow soldier led to a quickie marriage and baby -- and two years later, a quick divorce. His daughter is now eight years old and the light of his life. But he can't seem to get his shit together. Struggling to find a job and keep a hold on his sobriety, it's a one-night stand that gives him the kick in the ass he needs to be the man his daughter believes he is.

Warnings: Mature language and situations, some drug use, and talk about addiction.

Chapter 1

The sound of his front door opening and closing pulled Loki from a deep sleep. So deep, it took him a moment to remember where he was and how he knew that was his front door. His eyes opened slowly, once, twice, and then again, to nothing but the darkness of what he was sure was his bedroom. Then he felt the pounding, incessant, pulsing around his entire head. Damn migraines. Loki let out a low groan, thought fuck it, and buried his face deeper into his pillow. Moments later, the door to his bedroom pushed open.

“Rise and shine,” a deep voice sang.

Loki grumbled at the familiar voice, and slowly, he turned his body, rolling onto his back. “Why are you always so chipper in the morning? Oh, for Norn’s sake!” He threw a pillow over his face as the curtains pulled open and let the blinding daylight flood the room. “Close them! I’ve got a damned migraine!”

“Ooh. So sorry, Mr. Friggasson. There’s a cup of tea on the nightstand. Would you like me to get you some water and a couple of ibuprofen?”

Another groan sounded through the room as Loki forced himself to sit up. “Yes, please,” he answered as he rubbed at his face before reaching for the two pillows to prop them up behind him. In his sleepy haze, he remembered to pull the bedsheet over his lap to keep his modesty. Loki reached out for the teacup first, cupping it in his large hand as he took a gentle sip. “Mmm, perfect. Thank you, Fandral. And, for the thousandth time, please stop calling me Mr. Friggasson.” He sipped again, ignoring Fandral’s giggle as he rummaged through Loki’s closet. “What time is it?”

“A quarter to eleven.”

Loki sputtered into his tea. “Quarter to eleven? Why did you let me sleep so late? I have meetings today.” Loki hurriedly set his drink down and started to rise, gathering the sheet to wrap around him. Fandral was suddenly there, nudging Loki back into the bed, “Relax, Loki. You’re fine. Your early meeting was canceled, the board meeting at the Tower was pushed to Thursday, and Mr. Stark canceled your lunch meeting.”

“Cancelled? Why?” Loki settled back in the bed, rubbing at his neck. “He didn’t say. But he left the message for me before three am, and there was a lot of noise in the background. So, take a guess.”

Loki snorted softly. “That’s your boss, Fanny. Don’t judge.”

“You’re my boss. Mr. Stark only signs the checks,” Fandral said through a smile as he laid out a pair of pants and a shirt on a chair in the corner for Loki to wear for the day. “Once the morning meeting was canceled, I thought I’d let you rest a little longer since you didn’t have to rush into the office.”

“Thanks,” Loki muttered from behind his cup.

Fandral gave him a nod and turned to head around the corner towards the master bathroom.

“Any other messages?” Loki called as he set the teacup back on the nightstand. He sat back, his face contorting in pain, willing the migraine to ease up. He made a mental note to see an optometrist already.

“Yes, a few. Natasha called. She got a lead on the security break from a couple of months ago, I guess? She said she’d have a report for you on the improvements she’s already made with F.R.I.D.A.Y.” Fandral stepped out with a small white bottle in one hand, a glass of water in the other. He handed the water to Loki before popping open the bottle and dropping two white tablets in Loki’s open palm. “Also, someone’s been trying to get a hold of you all morning. He’s called four times already. No real message, just ‘need to speak to Loki urgently.’ Someone named Thor.”

Loki went still. He swallowed down the pills and water in his mouth, watching Fandral’s retreating back. A million different questions ran through Loki’s mind, but he couldn’t decide on just one to ask, nor would Fandral be able to answer any of them, judging by what he’d just said. Fandral returned from the bathroom, and Loki hoped he didn’t look as panicked as he felt. “Someone named Thor, you say?”

Fandral, staring at his phone, made a noise of agreement. “Sounded foreign, but I couldn’t place the accent.”

“Norwegian.” Loki shook his head dismissively when Fandral looked at him with a quizzical look. “Did he say how to get a hold of him?”

“Yes. At least, I have the number for you.” Fandral lowered his phone, eyed Loki, who’d gone much paler in the last thirty seconds. “Are you all right?”

Not in the slightest. “Yes. Uh, Fandral, I’m going to take a shower.” Loki rose from the bed, his migraine still there but hardly forgotten. He held the bed sheet tight at his waist and walked around Fandral. “Listen, if he calls again, tell him I will call him back as soon as I’m free. If he doesn’t, when you hear the water stop, give me twenty minutes, then put the call through.”

Fandral frowned at Loki as he followed him with his eyes. “Sure, boss. Are you sure you’re feeling all right?”

“Fandral. I’m fine. Will you order some food? Get me a sandwich, please. Something toasted, turkey.” Distracted, Loki didn’t wait for Fandral to confirm. He walked into his bathroom and started the water in the shower, then moved to the sink. He stood before the mirror for a moment, thinking, fretting, irritated. Why would Thor be calling him after all this time? What could he possibly have to say to Loki? After more than ten years of no communication, Loki felt as if they were strangers.

The steam began to fill the room, fogging up the mirror, so Loki dropped the sheet and stepped under the spray. He let the hot water wash over him, easing the ache of his muscles. He took the showerhead in hand, adjusted the setting of the water, and held it over the back of his head to let the hot water pummel the skin of his neck and his scalp, hoping to make the migraine go away. Though with the newly added stress of a phone call with someone from his long-forgotten past, Loki wasn’t sure it would go away now.

Washing his body and hair quickly, after just fifteen minutes, Loki stepped out and went through the motions of grooming then getting dressed. When he stepped out into the living room, Fandral was just taking his food from its delivery packaging.

“Did he call?”

“No. Feel any better?”

Not at all. “Much. Fandral, could you give me some privacy?”

He froze with a wrapped sandwich half out of the bag. Only his eyes moved in Loki’s direction, “Um, sure? Do you want me to come back in, what, an hour?”

Loki shook his head. “No. In fact, why don’t you take the rest of the day off?” Fandral dropped the sandwich on the table and faced Loki fully, crossing his arms. “Don’t look at me like that. Nothing is wrong. I just don’t know how this conversation is going to go, and I’d rather not have an audience if you don’t mind.” He spotted a bag of chips and snatched it up, ripping it open to pop one into his mouth.

Fandral, still frowning, reached into the bag once again to split the napkins between the two of them. He repacked his meal, then lifted the bag from the table. “All right. Your phone is on the counter. I input the phone number since he called the office, not your cell phone. And – I’ll be available, just in case.”

“Thank you. Fandral.” Loki gave his back a quick pat as he paused beside him. “I mean it. Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Well, I think we both know that’s a mutual feeling.” He reached for Loki’s arm, giving his wrist a quick squeeze. “Call me later? So I know you’re all right?”

Loki nodded and didn’t move until he heard the door close behind Fandral. It was true; he didn’t know how he would function without Fandral. They were classmates in law school, and both started at equally prestigious firms upon graduation. They were good friends but fiercely competitive, too. Loki credited that manic drive to one-up each other for getting him to the top five percent of their graduating class. But after a few years, while Loki had been on the up-and-up, Fandral was drowning, barely keeping his head above water as a tax lawyer. Loki watched one of the first friends he’d made in New York crumble under pressure and struggled to help him find a way to deal. Eventually, Fandral walked away from the six-figure salary, the company car, and all the perks that came with it. Loki was impressed that Fandral

dared to do it. After a few months of getting help and finding a better mental space, Fandral moved off of Loki’s couch into a modest apartment that was a fraction the size of the loft he was in before and looked for a less-hectic job. Loki had snagged a cushy position as Stark Industries’ in-house counsel, thanks to his friendship with its C.E.O., and was still getting settled. Managing New York’s richest son’s money, company, and public image was turning out to be a full-time job. And Loki needed help. He’d already recruited Natasha Romanov, a former N.Y.P.D. Officer, he brought her on for her computer and investigative skills. So he offered Fandral a position as his assistant. Fandral took it and promised to be the best right-hand man. Loki expected he’d be bored within a month just answering phone calls and setting up meetings. But Fandral’s duties, mostly taken on of his own volition, had grown exponentially in the past five years. He acted as assistant, maid, valet, and social buffer for the notoriously introverted Loki.

Loki would be a mess without him.

Because he was starving, Loki wolfed down half his sandwich and chips, grateful that the shower, the food, and the medication had helped relieve the worst of his migraine. Taking a deep breath, Loki picked up his phone from where Fandral left it for him. His thumb hovered over the screen, over the unknown phone number. And with his heart in his throat, Loki tapped it. He listened. He waited. And, finally, after three rings, the line picked up.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Thor.”

[miceenscene]

Star-Crossed

din djarin/female oc | soulmate AU | pre-canon

wc: 6.2k / 28.5k

summary: The Way was not supposed to be a solitary one. People, house, clan. And when all else failed, your Match. “Fits like a Mandalorian Match” was the old saying. Though it wasn’t so long ago that it stopped making sense. But what's a lost Match to a man like Din Djarin?

warnings/tags: canon-typical violence, fluff, hurt/comfort, Din Is In A Cult, angst with an eventual happy ending i swear

Previous Chapter | Masterpost | ao3

Chapter Eight: The End

Nia and Anella ran for each other, crashing into one another in a fierce embrace.

Nia and Anella ran for each other, crashing into one another in a fierce embrace.

Anella held onto Nia as if in fear that she might slip through her fingers again. Both of them talking through tears over the other.

“I’ve missed you so much! I was starting to think I wouldn’t find you–”

“Niæna! I thought you were–Niæna, cyare’se–”

Loved one.

They stopped talking at the exact same moment to listen, making them both laugh and wipe away tears.

Anella cupped Nia’s cheeks and pressed her forehead to hers, frowning in a joy so bright it had to hurt.

“Me'vaar ti gar, ba’buir?” Nia whispered, sniffling.

How are you, grandmother?

Anella nodded slowly, swallowing hard before speaking in a rough voice. “Ner bu’ad. Yaimpar. Ori’sol gedetyar.”

My granddaughter. Returned. There is much to be grateful for.

Watching their reunion made something deep inside Din ache. He had never felt like more of an outsider.

He stepped back once, twice, hoping to let them share this moment as long as they wanted to without an audience. But–

“Ke’mot!”

Halt!

Even if it hadn’t been the exact order used by his training instructors, the tone Anella used would have stopped a runaway Star Destroyer. Din looked back, shoulders automatically hunching to brace for whatever was coming next. Anella still had an arm around Nia, but was giving him a very familiar looking study.

“Is he with you?” she asked Nia.

She smiled. “Yes, he’s with me. He’s the reason I’m here.”

Anella looked slightly mollified. “Do you have a name to go with all that beskar?”

“He goes by–”

“Din. Din Djarin.”

For half a second, he had the same feeling as when he gave Nia his true name on their first meeting. WHY? But the warm and open look in Nia’s eyes immediately quenched any doubt he might have had.

Anella looked between the two of them then snorted. “Come, let us leave this drafty high rise and you can explain. You too, Din-Din Djarin.”

Huh. It’d been a long time since he’d had relatives.

Anella took them to her small apartment many thousand levels down from the twin-spired penthouse. It was cramped, and there was some sort of betting ring happening on the street corner, but they could still see the sky, so better than most on Coruscant.

Inside was about as luxurious as being aboard The Razor Crest, which made Din feel a lot more at ease, truth be told. Anella managed to find an extra crate for Din to sit on as she only owned two chairs, but it didn’t feel too tight at the table.

Anella was a small woman, slight and barely reaching his chest. But she still had a commanding Presence that made him continually straighten his posture every time she re-entered the room. The long burn scar through her whitened eye probably helped, but even then…

Nia hadn’t stopped smiling since they arrived. “Ba’buir, sit. We’re fine.”

Anella grunted disbelieving and tossed two ration packs their way. “If I had known you were coming, I would have gotten the good ones. But I at least have this.” She placed down three metal cups on the table and brandished a bottle half-filled with golden liquor.

She filled the cups with the very strong smelling booze and then lifted hers. “K'oyacyi.”

Cheers. Literally, ‘stay alive’.

“K’oyacyi,” Nia repeated before sipping. Din lifted his glass, but did not drink.

Anella gave him an odd look. “I can assure you, this place is safer than it looks.”

“Din doesn’t remove his helmet in front of others,” Nia explained before he had to.

A knowing look crossed through Anella’s eyes that turned to a pointed glare towards Nia, who avoided it by paying very careful attention to opening her ration bar.

“I see. Well, it will keep just fine,” Anella said before taking Nia’s hand in hers and giving her a soft, concerned look. “Now tell me, my Comet-fire, what has happened since I saw you last?”

Nia let out a long breath. “A lot, but… I’m not even sure when that was.”

“What do you mean?”

“I had a control chip put in my head,” Nia said, making Anella’s face harden and her grip clench. “Din made sure it was removed, but it took… everything. I wasn’t even sure of my own name when I woke up.”

Anella’s face was disturbed, but she nodded and sat back. “Tell me what you know then. And I will clarify.”

“I remember Mandalore. My parents and you, our home. I remember you raising me, training me–training us. We found the school. Ba’buir, it was attacked–”

Anella held up a hand “I know this. Continue.”

Nia kept going. “I remembered the Vod’oya after we found the headquarters. Going through the mission log brought back a lot of good memories.” She smiled for a moment, but then it disappeared. “But there’s gaps. In the records themselves. We have a contact seeing if it can be recovered, but haven’t heard anything yet.”

So far none of this seemed to surprise Anella. “And then?”

Nia’s face grew very carefully blank. “I know I killed Phasia,” she said in a small voice. On instinct, Din reached out and took Nia’s other hand. He could feel Anella’s gaze rest on him for a moment. “I don’t… know why, but I remember doing it. Ro saw me shoot her, she told me.”

“You found Ro?” Anella asked, sounding actually surprised now.

“Yes, she was… angry. I would be too.”

“What brought you here then?”

Din spoke up, making them both look his way. “I had a bounty, some years ago, for Phasia. I delivered her to that building. Nia remembered being chipped there when we arrived.”

“I remember a man. Human. He wanted to know where the school was…” Nia’s face threatened to crumble. “And I told him. I couldn’t stop myself.”

“Because you were chipped,” Anella reminded her, her voice fierce with determination. “Do not take guilt that is not yours, Niæna.”

She didn’t look like she quite agreed with her, but she let out a breath. “We’ve been looking for eight months, and there’s still so much we don’t know. Please, anything will help.”

Anella nodded and considered for a moment before speaking. “I hope you have re-discovered it, but your gut instinct is… uncanny. As a child, it was unsettling.” A wry smile twisted her mouth for a moment. “But as you grew older, and especially with the path you and the others chose, it gave me some measure of peace. So when you came to me a year ago and told me that you felt one of the Vod’oya had betrayed the group, I trusted you. But I told you that you would need hard proof to convince the rest. And you had it. The collection of missions the Vod’oya had completed all under false pretenses, all proposed by Phasia. You showed it to me not long before… before it all ended.

She finished her drink and set the cup down. “The owner of that building is a man named Terreck Basslan. He is rich, which makes him powerful. Even with your proof, we weren’t sure how he’d gotten his hooks into Phasia–” She looked pointedly at Din. “But it was clear that she was the turncoat. Through her, Basslan was using the Vod’oya as his own personal army. The seven of you could take out his enemies, remove his competitors, or just cut down anyone in his way. I am sure he lined Phasia’s pockets with more credits than she knew what to do with for her assistance.

“When you told me, I thought it best to disband, but… you wanted to know why she had betrayed the sisterhood. I told you to be careful. She had kept up the ruse for years; she was probably deeper in than even we knew.” Her face grew even more somber. “And then I was woken up very late by Kolo, who told me that Phasia was dead. And you were missing.

“I went after you immediately. You made it to the spaceport before I could get to you. I followed you, tracked you to that building.” She shook her head, a grim light in her eyes. “At the time, I hoped you were dead. That would have been better than most of the fates that waited there.”

“I got lucky,” Nia said, squeezing her hand.

“Yes,” Anella replied, looking at Din. “By the time I returned to the school, the Empire had already come through. Basslan must have told them where we were; Mandalorians are not technically wanted, but far from welcome. They killed some, took most. Where and for what purpose, I do not know. I buried the dead and burned the stormtroopers in the woods. Set out to find my students.”

“You think Basslan knows where they are?” Din asked.

“I think Coruscant is a good place to hide when you still need contacts. I have a scanner nearby; it logs every ship that comes and goes from Basslan’s.” She smiled slightly. “My curiosity was sparked when the same pre-Imperial ship that landed at my school three weeks ago showed up here. Though the Mandalorian was more a surprise than your survival, Comet-fire. Where did you find him?”

Nia laughed slightly. “He found me. On Tatooine. When I was chipped, everything felt foggy. Except for this… compulsion. Kick the guard off the barge. I did, and then he showed up out of nowhere.”

“And what brought you to Tatooine, Din?”

“I took a quarry and had my own… instinct. Go to the Dune Sea, and follow the barge.”

Nia smiled at him. “Though the next thing I remember is waking up to a stormtrooper swinging a staff at me.”

“You wouldn’t stay on the ship,” he replied, making her laugh.

Anella was looking sharply between the two of them. “I see.”

“We’re Matched,” Nia added, resting a hand on his arm.

“Good. Glad you have figured that out yourselves.” She refilled the two empty glasses and sat back in her chair. “Are you bonded yet?”

Nia’s confused frown reflected the one on his face. “No…?”

“It will come in time. What clan are you from, Din?”

“I don’t have one. I was a foundling, raised in the fighting corps.”

“Outside of Keldabe, right?” Anella asked, though it seemed she already knew.

“Yes.”

“Are you going somewhere?” Nia asked, pulling the conversation off track. She nodded to the corner where a few bags were packed.

“I was, yes. I have received a tip on where my students may have been taken. Was going to investigate when you two arrived.”

“I want to come with you,” Nia said.

Anella held up a hand. “No. I do not know yet if it is true. If it is, I will leave word at the school. But you need your evidence back. Prove yourself to Ro and find the others together.”

Nia nodded, though it was clear she didn’t like the idea of leaving her grandmother again.

They stayed up talking, reminiscing till late in the night. Not stopping till Nia could barely keep her eyes open. Anella wouldn’t hear of them returning to the ship, making a few spare beds out of the blankets and furniture she was leaving behind.

Nia curled up on the couch, immediately dropping into sleep before she’d even managed to pull a blanket over herself. Din watched Anella drape a quilt over her and smooth her hair, something deep inside him aching again.

Anella caught him staring from the table, jerking his head back to look down at his still full cup. However, instead of retiring herself, she sat down across from him and refilled her glass.

There was a quiet minute as she sipped and studied him carefully. She and Nia really were related.

“Tell me, Din,” she said in a low voice. “What are your intentions towards my granddaughter?”

He didn’t know how, but he suddenly felt that every answer that came to mind was wrong.

“As long as Nia wants me by her side, that is where I’ll be,” he said finally. True in spirit, but not his full hopes.

She huffed in amusement. “Spoken like a true Mandalorian.”

Her choice of words gave him pause.

“Because it seems to me like you have already chosen her,” she continued.

Kriff, he’d hoped he was more subtle than this.

“Not formally…” he admitted. “But… I am… settled.” He looked to where he could see the top of Nia’s head. “I do not know if she agrees with me.”

“What of your tribe? Do they agree with you?”

Din looked back at her, frowning. “Nia is my Match, what is there to argue with?”

Anella chuckled into her teacup. “Since when has that stopped Mandalorians?”

Under his helmet, he frowned. The idea had not even crossed his mind…

“You know, Nia’s mother was of your tribe. The Faithful Ones up the mountain,” she added.

“Really?”

She nodded once, looking at him closely. “When she and my son chose each other… her tribe cast her out for choosing someone who was not faithful.” A black pit opened in his stomach. “It was difficult for her, and admittedly, I had my doubts at first about the wisdom of my son’s choice.” A wistful smile filled her eyes. “But before long, she made me as proud as if I had birthed her myself. It was through her foresight and her sacrifice that Nia and I survived and escaped when the Empire invaded our village.”

“Nia never told me.”

“Nia does not know. Her mother wanted to leave that part of her past behind her. And she did…” She drained her cup and stood. “I may be biased, but I think she was happier for it.” She patted his shoulder as she passed by. “Good night, Din Djarin.”

Din finished his cup and settled for the night, leaning against the couch with a long sigh. Nia, still asleep, turned and threw her arm across his chest. He slipped his glove off and held her hand, the usual something flickering beneath the surface as he drifted off.

The next morning, Anella saw them back to The Razor Crest, not before giving them a small case of ration bars and the quilt Nia had slept under. She probably would have foisted more, if Nia hadn’t gently yet firmly assured her they weren’t in danger of starving.

“One last thing,” Anella said, making Nia suck in a breath and Din bite back a chuckle. She reached into her bag and pulled out a wrapped, rather flat package, handing it to Nia. “You should have this. It is time.”

Nia unwrapped it and both their mouths dropped open. It was a beskar cuirass, battle-worn and painted grey and white.

Nia looked up at her. “I cannot accept this–”

“I cannot wear it anymore. It is right that you should have it, cyare’se.” Anella ran a hand over her beskar, thumb rubbing at one of the scuffs. “It will need to be fitted to you. And deserves new paint. Perhaps a new color if you think it fitting.”

The color of a Mandalorian’s armor was symbolic. Grey meant mourning a loved one, while white meant a new start.

His own red set was in honor of his parents. Perhaps it was time for a new color on his own as well.

“I will take good care of it,” Nia promised solemnly, her hand pressed over the iron heart in the center.

Anella nodded. “I know this.” She rested a hand on her shoulder and waved Din in to rest the other on his, looking between the two of them. “Look after one other well. Mandalorians need each other, now more than ever.”

They looked at each other, a warm smile passing between them. “We will,” Nia promised, not looking away for a moment.

Anella patted Din’s arm and kissed Nia’s forehead one last time before letting them board the ship.

“Ret'urcye mhi,” Anella called, waving from the landing pad.

Maybe we’ll meet again. A Mandalorian farewell.

Nia watched her from the cockpit, waving back as Anella grew smaller and eventually disappeared from view.

Din was setting coordinates for Nevarro when a message came through. Peli’s voice was crackly but clear.

“You two are in luck; I was able to recover most of the data. Come back to Tatooine when you can–and don’t forget the rest of my money.”

He immediately plotted coordinates for Tatooine. Unfortunately, Coruscant being Coruscant, it was actually almost two full hours later till they made the jump to hyperspace and he could leave the flight deck.

He found Nia down in the hull, putting away the armor cleaner that usually only he used.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

She nodded, tucking her now shining beskar into the armory. “Yes… Part of me wishes we didn’t have to be apart, but we’ll see each other again.” She smiled back at him. “She liked you, you know.”

He chuckled. “I liked her too.”

Her eyes shone, warm and open. “Din. You… you have saved my life in so many ways. Without you…”

The look in Anella’s eye came to mind – I hoped you were dead – making him pull her into his arms. Safe, she was safe now.

She leaned back enough to look at him. “It means so much to me that you like my clan. Maybe… the next time we see Anella, I could ask if she would let you join. You could claim clan Vard’on when people ask. If you wanted.”

“A clan of three,” he said, trying it on for size and finding it a perfect fit.

She smiled, so much brighter and more beautiful than the stars that he just had to kiss her.

Din slipped his helmet on the next morning and opened the bunk door. Nia was already up, doing the final meditation of her stretching routine, completely still and her back straight as a saber.

He admired her form, the slope of her waist and the absolute control over her body she commanded. By the Mythosaur, he was beyond merely lucky to have a Match like her.

“You’re staring, my absence,” she said, without turning around to see him.

He smiled and went to sit behind her, pulling his helmet off before tucking his face into the safety of the crook of her neck.

Sea air and wildflowers.

“Absence?” he asked, interrupting the end of her meditation in more ways than one.

She relaxed back against him. “When you’re helmeted… I can feel the space where you should be, rather than actually you. You’re my favorite absence.”

He chuckled and pressed a kiss to the skin behind her ear.

A contented hum echoed from her chest as she intertwined their fingers and pulled him closer.

They sat there in the quiet perfect ordinariness for a while. That feeling of Something hurtling towards them returning. Though this time, it arrived.

Connection.

“What is this?” she murmured.

Pure and powerful.

It went beyond star bursts and comet fire.

It was… the birth of a galaxy. The miracle of Something from Nothing.

And at the same time, it was simply just her. And him.

Devotion flowed through his hands, tempered with loyalty and admiration. Strong and fierce. Familiar, but decidedly not his.

“Nia,” he whispered, head swirling with the rush.

“I thought the bond was just… a metaphor. A fairy tale…”

Surprise and awe joined the cocktail before simmering down into an amusement that sparkled.

This was her, Din realized after a moment. It was Nia. She was feeling all of this, and through where he touched her, he felt it too. Was she feeling him? How did she not drown in all these emotions?

Concern flooded the riptide.

“Are you alright?” she asked, a hand slipping up to cup the back of his neck. Every place she touched him, Awareness flowed, nearly overwhelming. “Din?”

He nodded, finding his footing slowly but surely. “Yes. I… I feel you.”

Concern ebbed, replaced with shimmering adoration.

“Din Djarin, you like me,” she teased, curling against him.

He had to laugh. That was too small a word for everything he could guess she felt from him.

“I do.” He wrapped his arms all the way around her, holding her tightly and basking in her. Without any effort at all, the words slipped out, soul-deep and earnest. “Will you marry me?”

Surprise detonated.

She breathed a giggle. “Grandmother warned me that Mandalorians move fast. I just assumed she was talking about sex.”

He chuckled. “I’m serious.”

“I know…” Thoughtful consideration welled up.

She had to feel his nerves, his longing for this.

Instead of answering, however, she turned to face him, eyes already closed without any reminder. Her hands reached out for his face, and he guided them to his cheeks. She pulled him close again, pressing their brows together.

“Yes.”

Star bursts and comet fire. Coming from both him and her.

A smile so bright it splintered into a laugh bubbled up from within him. When he opened his eyes, she was smiling too, eyes still closed.

He nearly asked her to open them. Breaking his Oath seemed almost worth it to see her eyes with his own in that moment.

But something deep recoiled at the thought. So instead he kissed her, soft and sweet.

“When?” she asked, lips still brushing his.

He kissed her again. And again. And again, moving slowly up her jaw, fingers brushing through her curls. “Now?” he asked, only half-joking.

She laughed. “Really?”

“Mhi solus tome–”

We are one together. The first line of the vows.

She gasped and pulled half back, but he reeled her back in, laughing and nowhere near done kissing her. Her surprise and amusement bubbled.

“Grandmother would never forgive you if you married me on the floor of your ship.”

He brushed her cheek with his. “Would you forgive me?”

“I’d have to think about it,” she teased with a grin he happily kissed away.

“Where should we go then?” A kiss to her forehead. “Naboo?” A nibble to her chin. “Coruscant?” A rub to her nose with his. “Mandalore?”

She laughed. “Yes, reclaim Mandalore for me, and I’ll marry you by the lake outside of Keldabe.”

“De ner haat.”

By my honor.

Still smiling, she kissed him once more and then relaxed against him, head on his shoulder, a hand stroking through the hair by his ear. Her happiness sparkled under his skin everywhere she touched him.

“I don’t care where… but I would like to have my eyes open. When we marry, I want to see you.”

A thin curl of worry smoldered in his throat. “Will the helmet be enough?”

She was quiet for a long moment, considering again. “Yes. I will never ask you to break your Oath for me, de ner haat.”

The worry immediately extinguished. He kissed her forehead. “Vor entye.”

I accept this debt. Or thank you.

“Of course, ner riduur.”

My husband.

He smiled and held her tighter, the edges of his person threatening to burst from their shared joy too large to be contained within just himself.

“Din Djarin of clan Vard’on, chosen of Niæna, has a nice sound to it,” she said, smiling too.

“Yes. It does.”

They arrived in Tatooine the next day, Peli extremely happy to see her money. And also them.

Nia flipped through the recovered data, the proof of Peli’s hard work evident in the relief in her eyes. “It’s here. This can all be traced back to Terreck and Phasia,” she said before tucking the drive away.

“Thank you, Peli,” Din said, offering a hand.

She looked surprised then shook his hand. “Eh, it wasn’t that difficult. And tell you what, next time you come to Tatooine, I’ll get rid of that dent on the back side of the ship for you. Half-price.”

Now with the evidence in hand, it was time to reach back out to Ro.

Nia left another puzzle box on the doorstep of her house, hoping that it hadn’t been abandoned.

But even if Ro was still around, there was no guarantee that she would answer.

However, about a week after they left the message, they got a holo request. Nia looked back at him from where she sat in the captain’s chair, face twisted with worry. He gave her an encouraging nod, and she accepted the call.

Ro appeared, her semi-translucent face completely neutral.

“Ro, I’m glad you called,” Nia said, offering a slight smile.

Ro nodded once. “Your message said you can explain what happened.”

“I can, yes. Phasia… she was working for someone else. Someone bad. And I can prove it. I swear by the Manda’lor. I swear by Anella.”

“Fine, fine. Bring your proof and I’ll listen. But I want to meet with just you. Leave the buckethead behind.”

Nia looked his way. He pulled off a glove, brushing fingers against her hand out of view of the camera. Her worry flowed through the contact, but changed to gratitude as she felt his understanding.

“Alright. Tell me where, and I’ll come alone,” Nia promised.

“I’ll send coordinates.” But instead of hanging up, Ro paused. “If you… after we clear the air… it might be nice to… catch up.”

Nia’s whole face brightened. “Do you want to go camping? Like old times?”

“You remembered,” Ro said with a small smile.

“I did, yeah. Finally.”

“I’d like that.”

“Me too.”

Since Nia was going to be with Ro for a few days, Din decided he’d be better off finding something to do with his time rather than just wait. Luckily, Ranzar Malk had a job that fit very neatly within their schedule.

And it was only slightly illegal.

“Why do you work with Ran?” Nia asked as she adjusted the straps of her bag over her shoulders.

Din picked up a few extra ration bars from their supply in the hull wall and slipped them into her backpack, as well as a flash grenade. Just to be safe. “He pays. And we need the money.”

She turned around. “The Guild also pays.”

“He pays more.”

He was wearing his gloves so he couldn’t feel her thoughts when she threaded her fingers with his. But he could see them plain on her face anyway.

“You’re disappointed,” he said.

She shook her head. “No. I understand survival. But… I don’t know, hopefully someday we can choose between the right thing and the job.” She sighed and squeezed his hands. “Just please be safe. Don’t let Xi’an stab you.”

“Don’t let Ro stab you,” he replied, making her smile.

“I promise.”

This was the first time in nearly nine months of being together they were going to purposefully part for more than a few hours. As she made to step away, he pulled her back in, close enough to rest the brow of his helmet on hers.

“Wherever you go, I go,” he whispered, even as he reminded himself that they weren’t physically joined at the hip.

She smiled softly and touched his helmet as if she was cupping his cheek. “Mhi solus dar’tome.”

We are one apart – the second line of the marriage vows.

Heart surging up into his throat, he reached for his helmet before he could change his mind. Automatically, she closed her eyes. “Wait. Don’t,” he whispered, something deep inside him shaking.

Her eyes opened slowly, surprise drawing them wide as he reached up again. He lost sight of her as he tipped the helmet up just far enough to kiss her good-bye, gently yet meaningfully.

It wasn’t quite an Oath break, right?

Her fingertips brushed over his jaw, his lips. The awe tingling through the connection made him smile, the first one she’d ever seen.

She gasped and pressed a kiss to the bare spot in his facial hair where a beard stubbornly refused to grow. “You have a beautiful smile, Din Djarin,” she whispered, a fingertip brushing his dimple.

He lowered the helmet back into place and she came into view again, her warm smile still on her face. “Thank you. I’ll see you in a few days.”

“Ret'urcye mhi,” he replied, leaning over and opened the hull door.

Sunlight flooded the room as Nia grabbed her staff from its usual resting place. Ro was waiting just outside of the treeline, hands folded behind her back and her own bag at her feet. Her expression softened as Nia came into view.

Nia jogged down the ramp, stopping one last time to wave back at Din, before running to join Ro. They spoke for a few moments before Ro grabbed her bag and they fell into step, heading down the path together.

Din watched them go till Nia disappeared between the trees, already counting the minutes till he could kiss her again as he closed the hull door and flew away.

As Ran’s quick, easy, and not-all-that-illegal job turned out to be none of those things, Din promised himself this was the last time he’d work with this crew. The two of them could make it by with just the Guild from now on. Dodging fang and knife attacks from your supposed partners was not worth the pay bump.

Ignoring offers for drinks with most of the crew (and far more than just drinks with Xi’an), Din immediately grabbed his share and jumped into hyperspace. Ran’s poor planning had made him a few hours later to meet Nia than he’d originally hoped.

Din half-expected her to be waiting by the treeline as he landed in the exact same spot he’d left her in two days ago.

But she wasn’t there.

That was fine. He knew where they were planning to camp, not even half a mile down the path, near the river.

Maybe he could surprise her, he thought as he headed down the trail, fallen leaves squishing underfoot. Huh, they probably got rained on quite a bit.

He heard the babbling of the river first. And soon after the path through the trees widened with the bank, revealing a near panoramic view of the river bend.

It’d be the perfect spot to camp. But he didn’t see any signs of fire pits or sleeping rolls in the softened earth.

No sign of Nia or Ro either.

What he did see, drew him to a full stop.

Nia’s staff laid abandoned in the mud.

He stared at it for a long moment, before looking around. “Nia?” he called, loud enough to be heard in the nearby vicinity. But there was no answer.

He wrenched the staff from the mud, the weapon half-buried as if… as if it’d been left for some time.

“NIA?” he yelled again before searching for the story in the river bank. However, the heavy rain had washed anything useful away, leaving only rivulet trails and puddles behind. Not even his visor could identify footprints.

A black pit opened up in his gut, large enough to swallow him whole.

He ripped off his helmet, breath fogging slightly in the air, and looked around wildly with his own eyes.

“NIA,” he bellowed, voice breaking as it echoed between the spaces in the forest and across the water.

Silence was the only reply.

Nia was gone.

It was several weeks later that Din was back in the Vod’oya headquarters, this time alone. He set up the holo recorder on the table and activated it, stepping back to the foot and trying to pick a place to begin.

“Anella, I have… Something’s happened.”

He looked at the glowing light of the recorder and knew that this wasn’t the right way to do this, for so many reasons. But fear more than Creed kept his helmet on his head.

“Nia’s gone missing,” he said, face screwing up from the stabbing pain of it. “She met with Ro, they were together for two days, and… and she wasn’t there when I returned. I don’t know if Ro did something, or if someone took them both, or…

He shook his head, just barely holding together enough to get out the words. “I have searched everywhere I can think. Ro’s house is abandoned. No one’s been through the school but me. Even Basslan seems to have gone underground, his staff haven’t seen him for months. I’ve thought about putting out a bounty for Nia, but… I don’t want her getting hurt.

“I’m never going to stop looking for her, de ner haat. But I don’t know what to do. And I’m out of credits. When you get this message, if you want to reach me, you can find me on Nevarro. Leave word at the cantina or with Greef Karga.”

He made himself make eye contact with the glowing lens, as if it would make a difference behind his beskar barrier. “I’m sorry, I…” He sucked a shaking breath. “I’m so sorry, Anella.”

And he ended the recording.

There was one last place he hadn’t gone yet for help.

But now with nothing left, and him nearly ready to believe he deserved it, he returned to the Covert.

Visored gazes felt heavy, pressing in on his armor. Did they know? Would they hate him for losing what so few were lucky to find?

He ducked his head and didn’t pause till he reached the armory, sitting down in front of the forge. Hoping – praying – that this would fix… anything. Something.

The Armorer put down her hammer and sat across from him. Even through two barriers of beskar, her gaze was leaden. “What is it you seek?”

Din dropped his view to his lap, shoulders bowing under the weight of Everything. “...My Match. She was taken,” he finally admitted, breath cutting out of him unevenly through his meager remaining control.

“By who?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. I have searched… everywhere.” His control snapped, throat tightened. It was like he suddenly couldn’t breathe for the weight of his cuirass. “She’s… she cannot be found. Even by me.”

“Did she see your face?” she asked calmly.

Her question, in light of everything he’d just told her, everything he’d been living through, everything he’d lost, scalded and immediately scarred.

He stared at her for a moment. “What does it matter?”

“It matters.”

No. No, it didn’t. It DID NOT MATTER.

Outrage making his hands shake, he wrenched off his helmet, throwing it to the ground with such force it bounced and rolled away.

But the Armorer saw his intent and turned before she saw his face.

It just fueled his rage. He wanted her to see, to take this away from him too.

“She was my Match!” he shouted, standing to his feet. “How was she, above every other living thing in the galaxy, still forbidden from knowing my face?”

The Armorer tipped her helmet slightly, but didn��t look away from the opposite wall. “This Is The Way.”

“It was not The Way for other Mandalorians! She was clan Vard’on; her ancestors were there to ride the Mythosaur. I met her clan! I saw their faces!”

“Some Mandalorians have abandoned the true ways. But you have not yet answered my question. Did she see your face?” she asked again, completely unfazed from his outrage.

He sucked in several shuddering breaths as the cruel truth welled up in his throat.

Nia was his Match. She was bonded so closely to him he felt her emotions. She had agreed to marry him. She wanted to be one when they were together, to be one when they were apart, to share everything, to raise their children as warriors, and yet–

“No. She never knew my face.”

The only sound was his low gasps as he wept for all that had been stolen from his care, stolen because he hadn’t been vigilant enough to protect it. Reckless, careless, and now–

Matchless.

He dropped back onto the bench, head in hands as the truth ran its course through him, leaking out drop by drop, till he was Empty.

Only once he’d grown quiet again, did the Armorer stand and walk calmly to where his helmet had landed. Never once looking at him.

“Even in your hardship, you have been given a blessing.”

Din stared down at his hands, empty and disconnected. “What blessing?” he asked, bitterly.

“The galaxy can take your Match. It can take your parents, your planet. And one day, it will take your life,” she said calmly as she circled around to stand behind him. “But it cannot take your belief.”

She set the helmet down on the bench next to him and continued, “Hold fast. And do not surrender what can never be taken from you, Mandalorian.”

He stared at the helmet for a long while.

If he walked away right now, he would truly have No One. Nothing.

And he would deserve it.

He rested a hand on the top, and the emptiness between his lungs cauterized to a permanent hole. Ragged, but not bleeding. Not anymore.

He picked the helmet and slipped it over his head, seeing the world only through his view screen once more.

“This Is The Way,” the Armorer said.

“This Is The Way,” he repeated.

After all,

What’s a lost Match to a man like Din Djarin?

End of Part I

Interlude I ; posting soon!

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