#i can just imagine the relief and joy they felt to finally bring home their baby girl

[sophistired18]

Wanted to make an adoption kryk au,

BUT GODDAMN IT ADOPTION LAWS IN JAPAN ARE STRICT ASF 😭😭

They wouldn't be allowed to adopt unless theyre married... which is a problem since same sex marriages aren't recognized or acceptable..

So im thinking they'd have to adopt internationally like from the US and it'd probably just be under a single parent (most likely kuroo) and the other would be involved but unfortunately just not legally have any connection to their baby.

Or i say fuck it and just make the fictional au pure fiction and screw complicated laws and regulations bc I want my ship to get to experience parenthood BC GODDAMMIT THEY WERE MADE TO BE PARENTS

[munariplans]

is there someone else? pt.2 | n. romanoff

part 2 of is there someone else? | read part 3

synopsis: wherein reader navigates her feelings for both natasha and wanda, and ultimately makes a choice.

natasha romanoff x reader | slight wanda maximoff x reader

word count: 9.6k words

masterlist

“are you happy?” lately, those words came out a lot from the people around you. steve asking you about your relationship with natasha the night she had not only disobeyed your orders on a mission, but also berated you in front of the others. wanda asking if you were really going to stay with natasha long-term in the quinjet home from the night she almost kissed you. and now, natasha asking if you were happy about her pregnancy. 

you had shrugged to steve then, clutching your bleeding side and letting the medical bay doctors examine your wound, using the excuse of the injury to shrug him off. as happy as i can be, you said. 

for wanda, you had only shook your head, honestly replying that you weren’t, and you knew natasha wasn’t either, but you were too scared to ask for a divorce and she was still willing to try for something you wanted to give up at. and then, you had to reinforce that you still couldn’t start anything new with wanda, bitterly.

Now, with Natasha in your lap and her hands cradling your jaw, years of vulnerability, insecurity, and anxiousness built up into the reflection behind her eyes, you found it hard to say anything at all. Pregnancy was supposed to be something the both of you had wanted; for nearly a year now, and you couldn’t believe that your relationship had soured to a point where the woman you loved was afraid of your reaction to finally getting what you wanted. You felt terrible.

You evaded Natasha’s question entirely. All you could reply with was, “How many weeks?”

She noticed, but as you readjusted her on your lap, relieving the weight off of your injured ribs; she could only smile sadly. “I just found out on our anniversary, while you were away. Probably two, three weeks?”

“Okay.” Natasha watched you nod. This was the first time in weeks she had had her body pressed up against yours, holding onto your embrace and having your arms around her, and she was so afraid the moment was going to be gone so soon. 

“So does that mean…” she searched your eyes, “...We’re okay? We’re back together…?”

You broke eye contact, staring off into space for a while. The almost-kiss, the relief you felt when you thought Natasha was going to end things, the life you imagined with someone else. It was almost as if you could physically feel all of it; love and control, slipping away from you. 

You contemplated telling Natasha of Wanda’s feelings. But then everything else, the repercussions, the anguish, the what-ifs, would just be too much; and you know the woman was hoping for a positive reaction from you. You would keep Wanda’s secret, and safety, from your wife, for as long as you could in exchange for the possibility of happiness you could still share with Natasha. 

In response, you brought her in for a kiss, smiling as best as you could to alleviate her worries. “Of course. For the baby, and for the woman I love, of course.”

Natasha giggled in happiness, bringing your hand to rest along her tummy, and your heart squeezed with guilt at the joy written all over her face.

–

“Is this your first time?” Natasha’s gynaecologist asked, staring you up and down while your wife changed back from her hospital gown. You felt the scrutiny under her stare, and subconsciously straightened your posture. 

Nodding, you were aware your arms were crossed in defence of yourself. She turned around as Natasha reappeared to ask you for help with her zipper, and when you came back out, she nonchalantly passed the comment of, “You don’t look too happy about it.”

Your heart sank, trying to laugh off the hurt with, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She shrugged, pointing her clipboard to the direction of Natasha’s changing room. “That woman in there is a medical miracle. To be able to get pregnant under her circumstances, and considering she isn’t so young, I just thought…you would be more ecstatic.”

“You a shrink before becoming a gynaecologist, doctor?”

“Please,” she laughed, “Psychology is the furthest thing I wanted to touch in medical school. I just deduced from the happiness on her face, and the lack thereof, on yours. But what do I know, right? I’m just your doctor.”

“Right.”

The both of you watched as Natasha came out, and while she thanked the nurses and prepared to leave, the doctor leaned in to you again. “Is there anything I should know, ma’am? I’m only looking out for the mother and baby, and I’m working for their best interests, not mine or yours.”

You gave her a weird look, and a non-commital grunt as you signed the papers, but she was strangely perceptive. “If there’s someone else out there, someone waiting for you that is not her, as I have seen with many other partners before, I always suggest for you to end it. For the sake of both of them now, not just her.”

You found yourself hovering over Wanda’s contact on the drive home, the urge to call her almost instinctual. 

– 

After the doctor’s appointment, you had cooked Natasha lunch; with her choosing to pack and eat it out in the field, where the others were having a Sports Day. She was content enough just watching them, but out of the corner of her eye, she could spot you hunched over, elbows on your knees, a slight resigned look of misery on your face. To any other person, it could have just looked like you were bored, or tired, but Natasha had been seeing those expressions so frequently lately; she had deduced what they meant herself. Those expressions only came up when you were longing to spend time with anyone but her. 

“You can still join them, you know?” Natasha chimed in, “I’m sure Peter wouldn’t mind you subbing in for him. Kid looks exhausted.”

She remembered all the times she held you back; the life you had chosen to stay with her, instead of the life you could have had if you hadn’t married her. Even before the strain in your marriage, before her insecurities with Wanda entered the picture, Natasha often struggled to accept the fact that you chose her, out of everyone and everything. 

giving up a promotion as head of the new STRIKE team because it would relocate you to somewhere in the mountains of switzerland, being the one to hold clint’s arrow back from that one faithful mission, even standing up to fury and the rest of the executive directors who held a shadow of a doubt towards her loyalty when she had run off after the events of what tony called civil war; she found it hard to imagine anyone else willing to do a shred of those things for her. 

“I hardly know the game standings by now.” You said, rubbing your eyes from exhaustion. “There’s no point.” 

Natasha wanted to protest, but your hand reached out to hers, albeit in an attempt to comfort her and to ask her to not fight you on it, but your touch felt cold and foreign. Then, it was when she noticed who your eyes had been on for the whole game. 

She wondered if you would have been happier if you hadn’t been with her at all. If you had been there, playing the game against Wanda, celebrating your team’s win with and for her. Instead, here you were, right beside her, eyes tired from staying up all night to help her through her bouts of nausea, making warm drinks and small snacks for her to still nourish herself, staying back from the Sports Day you were so looking forward to for the past few weeks just to accompany her to the doctor’s. She wondered if the small scan she was planning to put up by her bedside, and you planned to keep in your wallet, even gave you the same amount of joy it gave her. 

When she had finished her meal, she noticed you hadn't even touched yours. 

– 

“Just go for it.”

“No. I’m staying.”

“Please go,” Natasha begged, already having her hands around your shoulders, trying to get you to get up from the bed. “I already have your dress picked out for you, you just have to get dressed and head down.”

You groaned, playfully digging your head deeper into the pillow as Natasha tried to lift you up. For a pregnant woman, albeit still in her early days of her first trimester, she was much stronger than you thought she was. As she pulled you into a sitting position, you laid your head against her midriff, arms around her waist. 

“I’ll be fine here alone, you know,” she assured, but you shook your head against her body. 

“No. What if another Ultron-esque invasion happens again? And I won’t be here to protect you?” 

Natasha chuckled, threading her fingers through your hair. “I can protect myself. Have you forgotten I was an assassin and double agent? Besides, we have Vision now, too. All thanks to Ultron.”

You looked up to her, doubt still clouding your features, but Natasha was adamant. “Go. How many parties have you missed because of me? Just because I’ve been advised not to have too much fun doesn’t mean you have to as well. Do it for me, please?”

She smiled when you finally stood up, giving the black halter gown a second look. 

–

“Have fun,” she said, giving you a peck on the cheek. The sentence had only been half-truthful. 

I love you too much to keep you shackled here with me; but I sincerely hope that you don’t find someone else who will make you realise you deserve better tonight. 

She watched you go, Clint sticking by your side and turning around as you both entered the lift, giving her a sympathetic look. He knew all too well of her feelings tonight; and had promised to look out for you too Natasha knew it was the hormones; but it hurt her so much to watch you leave that it brought a fresh wave of tears to her eyes she had tried to keep down for the night. 

–

You should have guessed that a party organised for Pepper’s birthday would involve Tony pulling all of the stops; falling short of nothing but Great Gatsby-esque glamour and celebrations. Twice a dancer had tried their hardest to pull you to the dance floor with them, sparkling champagne towers in hand and live jazz ensembles all around the venue. 

“Come on, you haven’t drank in months, you’re holding back now?!” An agent from your academy days, his name now fuzzy with the alcohol in your system, roared as he tipped back yet another shot of liquor into your mouth, the taste burning your throat. 

You pushed back his bottle, giving yourself time to regain your composure. “My wife’s not feeling so good, I can’t–go home drunk–”

“Nat’ll understand, don’t worry so much,” he raised to tip the bottle again, your world spinning now, but was abruptly pulled back. He yelped, falling back on the sofa. 

Suddenly, lithe arms were around your waist, pulling you away from the agent. In your drunken haze, you reached out to touch the face of who it was, but the person was already pulling you away, further and further from the loud lights and music. 

Fresh air hit your cheeks as the balcony door opened, and you finally recognised the shoes that had been dragging you throughout the party. 

“Wanda.”

“I’ve got you,” she helped you sit against the wall of the tiny space protruding from her own room, and closed the doors right after, “You’re safe with me.”

You grinned, remembering Natasha’s words earlier. “Have you forgotten I was an assassin and double agent?”

“You’re neither of those things when you’re wasted.” Wanda took the seat beside you, pressing her body against yours to ensure you didn’t fall over. You laughed against her shoulder, letting the stars in your vision fizzle out before you could see her again. 

Wanda smelled like cinnamon and flowers, the smell slowly becoming more and more familiar to you. She let you get your bearings together for a few minutes, before readjusting yourself to lean your head against the wall instead. Choosing not to speak, Wanda wanted to enjoy the first time in weeks the two of you had been alone. Ever since that mission; ever since that night. 

Finally, you sighed, breaking the silence and turning to her, your eyes glassy and red. “I had–have–feelings for you.”

She was about to reply, to say something along the lines of expressing her relief, or adoration, for you, when you put a hand up, continuing with, “But I cannot act on them, you and I know why. I’m not sure if what I feel for you is love, probably something close to it, but I know what I feel for Natasha. And I cannot have that with you.  Wanda, you have been here for me through one of the toughest few months of my life, and for it I am eternally grateful. But I also have a duty and responsibility as a wife for Natasha. Of course, you have shown me acceptance and love, butterflies and excitement for the future, I cannot deny that, but I cannot be what you want, what you need. And I refuse to string you along for the possibility of me leaving my wife, Wanda, you deserve so much better.”

Lowering your gaze to your lap, Wanda watched as you professed, “I’m sure you know Natasha and I have been trying for a baby for a while now.”

“Clint told me it’s been more than a year.” 

Nodding, you looked back up, steeling yourself. “Well, we’re finally successful. Natasha’s pregnant.” 

Wanda’s mouth fell into an O shape, half in realisation, half in surprise. The arm around your shoulders faltered, and you carefully let it drop back to her side. “Oh.” 

“I know you don’t know how to feel,” you spoke up, “And I don’t expect you to be happy for me, for us. But I am telling you this, now, because I am choosing…to be responsible. For the child, more than anything else. I love Natasha, and perhaps you too, but the child takes priority over my own feelings, my own heart. Natasha needs me now more than ever, and while it will take time, I’m sure, to repair or even go back to how we once were, I can’t abandon her, Wanda. I need to stay with Natasha.” 

Your hands were cold as you explained, desperately, to the woman before you. Never one to cry, you hated that there were tears in the back of your eyes this time, watching Wanda’s expression turn from shock, to disappointment, and finally, a brave front, smiling and nodding sadly at you. 

“I really am sorry; for perhaps leading you on, for making you feel things I shouldn’t have expressed. And I do treasure you, so very much, Wanda, but I cannot leave my wife, my marriage, and now my child too, for you.” 

But Wanda only reached out for your hand then, the warmth in her touch your final leap towards sobriety for the night. “I understand.” 

She saw your eyebrows furrow for a minute, before asking, “You do?”

Swallowing the lump in her throat, and the sinking of her heart, Wanda nodded. “I knew it was stupid anyway, my feelings for you. You were married, and while I have only admired you from afar all these years, wishing I could be her, having your kindness and bravery to come home to every night, I thought…I thought I had a chance. And when I saw just how badly Natasha was treating you, it sparked something in me too; I was angry and bitter, I knew you deserved better, but I realise that better is not me. It’s still her, and will always be her. You could have been my Romeo for all I cared, but at the end of the day, I always knew Natasha was your Juliet, no matter what.” 

Your hand squeezed over Wanda’s one, her confession of your unrequited love tugging at the guilt in your heartstrings. “To be fair, in another life, we could’ve really given this a shot. I think your love would’ve come back; in a different form, or different circumstances, and I would’ve been there to love you back. I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” Wanda laughed, a wet chortle that seemed much too joyful for her current state; red faced and tears streaming down her face, “Just that is enough, I think. Knowing you felt a fraction of what I did for you for years, the hope, the longing, of it all. I need to let you go, give up your ghost beside me, and while it isn’t going to be easy, I hope at least the process is kind.” 

“In another life.” She confirmed, letting you rub away the tear tracks on her cheeks, leaning in to press a kiss on them as the alcohol and your lips both burned the skin they landed on. “And I’m happy for you, truly. Congratulations to you and Natasha on the baby.” 

-

Hungover and the remnants of the previous night’s bash still pounding loudly in his head, Tony Stark was not looking forward to the meeting he had forgotten was organised the morning after Pepper’s party. He had wanted to only sit in, listen, glower at righteous Steve Rogers with no alcohol in his system explain the weekly objectives for the team, and head back. No holdups, no interferences. His head was killing him.

But as he entered through the double glass doors of the meeting room, the scene that greeted him only made his headache worse. 

Natasha was absolutely fuming; stood in front of the team presenting her findings for the week, arms crossed. Her vision was glaring directly at you, and so was everyone else’s. 

You, on the other hand, were sprawled out at the furthest chair in the back, staring back at her and not backing down. 

“Whoa,” Tony broke the silence in the room, “What is this really weird energy that I just walked into?”

It was meant to be a joke, cutting through the tension and to get someone to hopefully fill him up to speed on yet another argument between the two of you, but Natasha then diverted her anger towards him, and Tony knew the moment he screwed up. Tears welled behind the Black Widow’s eyes, and she swiped at them furiously as a choked sob left her, bumping into his shoulder as she immediately rushed out of the room. 

“I went through with the report for her insubordination,” you explained, when everyone suddenly turned their attention back to you, “Fury suspended her for two weeks.”

“Really?” Steve cut in, but you held your hand up before he could continue.

“It wasn’t because I purposely wanted to be a dick, or to report my own wife for betraying my orders, but the fact that she directly put herself in a line of fire when we had obviously discussed and agreed upon not doing it, in front of newer agents on the team, what kind of example would we be setting for the new guys?”

“Don’t you think it’s too much?” Clint chided, “I mean, I’m pretty sure Nat knows what she’s doing. And your own wife, for Christ sake…”

“No, but come on,” you straightened, outstretching your hands in explanation, “This was a matter of team safety! If we had let it slide–”

“–You let it slide when you and Barton were supposed to take her out on that one mission on the KGB. And look where we are now.” Steve said, and he hit a sore spot.

You bit your tongue, a comment that would have not been the nicest begging to slip out of your lips, when Tony finally sighed. He turned to you, and in a tone more serious than he had ever been, asked, “Is there something else that you are unhappy with? About Romanoff?” 

He continued. “I don’t want to point fingers or say that we’re all against you here. I mean, you’re one of us, you always have been, but I’m sure you’ve noticed that things… haven't been the same recently. Is everything okay between you and Natasha?” 

You knew what he was implying. “You’re saying I’m ruining the dynamic of the team.”

“Not all the blame is on you, but…” Tony gulped, nodding to replace his answer. 

–

“How about a honeymoon?” Fury asked, watching you pace about his office. You had taken particular interest in the minimal decorations on his shelf, refusing to make direct eye contact with him for the past hour. 

“I doubt she’d want to go anywhere remotely far with me. Should see the mountain of pillows she builds between us each night; it seems like pregnancy’s only made her hate me even more.” Finding comfort on the sofa right  across from him, you leaned your head back in the presence of your closest friend in the compound. Only Fury knew of her pregnancy, with you and Natasha agreeing to keep it private from the others until the time was right. 

He shrugged. “You guys never had a honeymoon, and I just felt it was mostly my fault, is all.”

“She needed a green card to escape the KGB, I was single, we got married with you as the only witness out of convenience, not a big deal, really,” you quipped, “In a way, you played matchmaker for us even early on.”

“An arranged marriage works wonders for my two coldest assassins, right?” 

“We’re pregnant now, so there’s your answer. Not the most happy, or successful, of marriages, but I’ll give you that, Nick.”

But the man was still your boss, as he cruelly reminded you, handing you your resignation papers for the next three months. 

“Three months; the first trimester, that’s it. Just you and her, space to sort out your marital problems and get back together with us again. I can’t have you ruining the team more than you have, Agent. It worked for Clint and Laura, and Tony and Pepper, I have to have you and Natasha work too.”

He turned to leave, another meeting calling out for him in the next moment, but not before he stopped at the door, and uttered words you had been dreading to hear the whole week.

“And for God’s sake, it’s your wife, Agent. You have every right to be angry at her for insubordination, or how she’s been treating you these few months, but you forget so conveniently that she’s pregnant; something so foreign to someone like her. You tell me you gave up Wanda for her, but that’s not noble, it was only right. 

Hold her responsible, tell her what’s been bothering you, and work through it. No more running. She needs you as much as you need her. You can’t treat this like any other mission; have some heart and take care of her, will you?”

–

Before leaving, Clint had asked to see you one last time. In the shooting range, where he shot arrows and you watched, he tried to convince you to see things from Natasha’s point of view. 

“I mean, just try to see things from her perspective, you know? When Laura and I were having problems–”

“–Clint, I didn’t really come here for a lecture.”

An arrow whizzed past your head, but Clint’s intimidation did not make you flinch. “That’s the problem. You don’t listen, you never do.”

He sighed, letting another one fly. “You need to listen, to let Natasha speak and give her space to tell you what’s really bothering her. You know how she is, it’s not easy for her to open up about her problems; ever so headstrong.”

“And if you want a shot at getting back to what you two were before this…before all of this…you should treat her like such; do the little things. They matter. Take her out on a date once in a while, give her flowers, treat her like the queen she is to you. I’m not Natasha, and I’m not the most privy to your relationship, but I do know your kindness, and the patience you gave her was ultimately what led her to fall in love with you too. I’m sure she’d still like to see that side of you by her side for the rest of her life.”

Out of the corner of Clint’s eye, he saw you hold your fist to your throat, swallowing the lump that was trying to form. When you got up and left without another word, he knew you were suppressing the tears that threatened to fall in front of him. 

–

Natasha opted to wait by the car while you said temporary goodbyes to the rest of the team, and you didn’t fail to catch the hurt in her eyes, still, when Wanda reached in to pull you for a hug too. She had smiled at you, but you kept the hug brief and uttered a see you right after, rushing to Natasha’s side in a hurry. 

You held her hand as you walked up to the car together, and when the cool breeze of the wind hit her cheeks, Natasha felt you let go for a brief moment, only to feel the warmth of your sweater enveloping her in the next. With the smell of you flooding her senses, Natasha felt her cheeks warm too, as you grinned.

“You still look so tiny in it.”

She rolled her eyes, letting you open the car door for her. “Shut up, it’s oversized on you too.” 

But her annoyance was feigned, appreciation genuine, as she reached out for your hand again in the car, never letting go of it throughout your drive to the remote cabin.

–

The first night of your getaway together, you caught Natasha placing a hand on her lower abdomen as she checked herself out in the mirror of your bedroom. She turned left, then right, and scrutinised her body even further. A frown etched on her face, you could tell something was bothering her.

“Dinner’s ready.” She startled hearing your voice, hurriedly pulling her top back down, but she knew you had already seen enough. 

Leaning against the wall, you offered her a smile, a space to tell you what was wrong. In any other circumstance, Natasha would have tried to avoid the topic altogether, but she knew you would not let it go without her telling you. 

“It just feels unreal,” she managed, “Still. That I’m pregnant. That we’re having a baby. I somehow still think my body is lying to me, the doctors are lying to me. Some sick prank that the universe is playing on me.”

When she looked over at you, your face was hidden by the shadows from the door, and her worry instantly crept back. “I mean, it’s stupid–”

“–It’s not stupid to me.” Suddenly, the embrace of your arms around her body was all her mind registered, as her own arms wrapped around yours back. 

Holding her tight, you pressed a kiss to the crown of her hair, murmuring, “It’s not stupid, and it’s real, Natasha. I know you’re so used to all this self-doubt, and rejection, even from your own body, but it’s real. This is real, and you are amazing. You are going to bring life into this world, and god forbid if I won’t be here with you for it too.”

You coaxed her back to the dining room slowly, wiping the tear tracks on her cheek as she followed after you. At dinner, you caught her eyeing another serving of the pasta, but shamefully looking away as she remembered what it would mean for her weight, which was already steadily rising. 

Natasha watched you scoop a small helping for yourself, and offering her the large portion of the remainder of the pasta. I don’t want it to go to waste, you had said as nonchalantly as you could, accompanying her as she blissfully took another forkful of her replenished plate. 

You played the music on the turntable that night, while Natasha insisted on doing the dishes. Watching her then, the music flowing through her veins and the soft sway of her hips as she moved to the rhythm, an almost foreign, faintly familiar feeling of butterflies began to bloom in your stomach again. 

–

The next morning, when the pasta resurfaced in the form of vomit through Natasha’s morning sickness, you were there to hold her hair back, sleepily rubbing her own back and reassuring her that she was going to be okay. 

Natasha teared up at the discomfort, but you were there to help her wash up, making a hot drink for her before lulling her back to sleep to properly rest. And while she slept, you sneaked off to prepare breakfast for her. 

When you returned, Natasha was clutching the shirt you slept in, nuzzling her nose into it for comfort and whispering your name in her sleep. 

–

a week into the start of your new life together, you were gardening in the small patch overlooking the fields outside, while natasha sat and watched you while she did paperwork for the team. It was the first full week in she had not lashed out, and you had not avoided her in anger and retaliation, and as she felt her hand subconsciously lay on her stomach again, she whispered a thanks to the baby not yet showing for the newfound relationship they had helped establish for the both of you. 

“What are you going to do tomorrow?” She asked, while you laid down fresh soil for the vegetables. 

You shrugged. “The sunflowers may need repotting, we have a problem with one of the hinges from the bathroom door, so I’ll be fixing that, and…” you trailed off, before remembering, “...I can make you that smoothie Clint was telling us about, the one he made for Laura when she wasn’t feeling so good. The kale is almost ripe.”

It was the first infliction that made Natasha second-guess your words for the first time in a while. “That sounds disgusting.”

She had expected you to laugh it off, or even dismiss it altogether as a joke, but you put down your hand shovel then, and paused, staring into the fields beyond. “It’s good for you, and the baby. Extra nutrition on top of your prenatals can’t hurt.”

“I’m not that weak, though, to be needing that,” Natasha rebutted, “Laura only needed it because she had some issues with Nathaniel, I’m perfectly fine with our baby.”

When you failed to answer immediately, Natasha sat straighter, voice louder, “Are you saying I’m not strong enough to carry this baby without a crutch? That I need to drink nutritional smoothies and take extra medication and precautions just so I don’t fuck this all up for you?”

You turned around this time, the same look you always had when she sparked yet another heated debate adorned, the same look Natasha had not missed seeing at all. 

“I never said that. God, Nat, I just wanted to do a nice gesture, to make sure you’re not missing out on any nutrition, that’s all. If you didn’t want it you could’ve just said so.”

With a sigh, you moved to keep your gardening tools, the mood to continue clearly ruined, and a familiar feeling of dread and fear rose within Natasha. Even if you were there with her, even if she knew you were only going inside to clear your head, it looked all too similar to you leaving her all over again. The resigned look on your face, the heaviness in your steps, Natasha had dreamed too many times of this scenario unfolding. 

“Wait!” She stopped you from opening the door and going in, suddenly embracing you from the back and holding tight. You made a move to protest, but her grip was firm, tears already soaking the back of your shirt. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she whispered, hoping you would understand, “I’m so sorry. I was horrible.”

Your heartbeat palpable to her ears, Natasha then felt you slowly let go of the door handle, and brought your arms over hers. “It’s okay, Nat.” 

“You just wanted to take care of me, and I—I–”

“It’s okay,” you reassured, “Happens.” 

You invited her back inside, and let her spend the rest of the day in your arms to reassure her of any insecurities you knew had cropped up during the small altercation the both of you just had. 

–

“I see that relations between the two of you are better.” Once again, Natasha’s gynaecologist pointed out to you, as you nodded, then shrugged. 

“I guess.” 

The woman offered you a sympathetic smile. “It’s a good thing. I’m happy for you. She looks happier, as well.” 

Almost two months into her pregnancy then, you knew the few times you had been leaving the cabin and visiting the hospital had been a little unnerving for Natasha, considering her own past and job history. So for the gynaecologist to be able to see past the brave front she put on, past her own worries and insecurities about her own body carrying the child, you knew something in her had shifted as well. 

With a everything’s healthy and an all-clear to leave, Natasha was more than glad to leave and gawk over the new scan provided from the visit. But even through her smile and supposed excitement of your suggestion to catch a film at the cinema the previous night, you knew she was tired; she had almost fallen asleep in the waiting room while you paid, her footsteps were a little heavier, and she had leaned her head on your shoulder while the both of you were in the lift, in public. Natasha was never one to showcase her weaknesses in public. 

So you made the first move. “Let’s just go home, okay?”

She held your hand over the console in the car, and with eyelids drooping, still shook her head. “No, it’s supposed to be a date…a movie date. I wanna go.”

With the traffic light red, you brought her hand to your lips, pressing a feather kiss before returning it to her side. “You’re exhausted, Nat. We can still go tomorrow, but for today, let’s go home, okay? I’ll put on another film on the TV, make homemade popcorn, and we can make a blanket fort, just like back at the compound.”

Natasha felt that she didn’t deserve you at all, as she nodded gratefully then, and tiredly.

–

The comforting scent of Natasha’s shampoo was all that occupied your senses, as she laid in your arms, softly snoring halfway into the film. With a small grin attached to your face, you whispered a I told you so into her hair and pulled the blanket further to keep her warm.  

When the credits began to roll, she finally stirred again, and mumbled, “That was a good film. I liked it.”

You decided to keep her secrets to yourself, and wiped away the little bit of drool on her chin. “Me too.” 

Natasha took a little longer to regain her surroundings, as you got up to start on lunch. But even as her stomach rumbled, she had to control herself from the nausea that washed through her as she watched you begin chopping the vegetables.

You noticed her watching, and paused for a minute. “Yes, Nat?”

But Natasha didn’t want to pose as a bother. “Nothing. I’m hungry too.”

However, when the final plate was served in front of her and you were busy with the garnishes, the nausea returned, and you saw her physically recoil to prevent herself from retching this time. Slightly offended, you had pulled the plate back, but Natasha refused to let you do so.

“It’s–” You had moved to look for something else for her, but Natasha knew she was wasting your efforts if she let up. 

“No, I’ll eat it, I just…” she took a moment to gather herself, “...I’ll be fine.”

But when even a few bites proved difficult for her, she was grateful that you took the plate away this time, sitting down by her side to rub her back. “Nat, tell me what’s wrong.”

Shamefully, she hid her face in your shoulder, and finally mumbled, “I want mac and cheese. Baby too.”

She had expected you to let out an irritated sigh, or even lecture her on wasting food and opting for something unhealthy that she would never crave for in the compound, but instead, you let out a soft chuckle, and kissed her cheek. 

“You’re not mad?” She asked, a little surprised. 

“No, why would I be?” You replied, getting up to find the car keys. “But you should’ve said it earlier, my love. Now you’re hungry and it’s a little bit of a drive away to the grocery store.”

But Natasha was more than happy to follow, despite your protests for her to rest at home, and with the both of you poring over the mac and cheese box options in the grocery store, the butterflies in her stomach felt like they were going to explode each time your hand brushed over hers in reassurance. 

– 

But life was never so fair, or smooth sailing. Life in the cabin had not been a magic solution to yours and Natasha’s problems, and you were growing weary of said problems being carried over wherever you went, too.

The first strike had been on one of the busiest nights for SHIELD Intelligence. One of the sectors had been compromised, everyone was working overtime to recover any lost intelligence, and of all things you struggled with, the shitty internet connection was your biggest obstacle. 

Your calls with Maria and the team back at the compound were choppy, your emails were not sending through, and the frustration was creeping in. You had been cooped up in the study for the better part of the day, and Natasha had been left out of every single meeting because Maria had simply wanted her to rest. 

So of course you had your wife breathing down your neck as well, asking for updates every hour on the team’s progress. But even as a workaholic as she is, Natasha thought it was more than reasonable to think you were working too much; at breakfast you had received your first call from Fury, then at lunch you skipped eating with her to fix a bug in the team’s code, and even at dinner, when she wanted to finally have a proper conversation with you about her day, you were on a conference call with Maria again. 

By one in the morning, where you were sending emergency emails for backup, Natasha entered your study again, in a nightgown that was just a little too revealing and light makeup to coax you to bed, but you did not spare one look at her as you shrugged her off with, “Not now, Nat.” 

“You’re working too much,” she tried to drape her body over yours, but you only reclined the seat and pushed her off gently. “Feels like you disappeared all day today.”

“Yeah, well, Maria’s gotten me on a tight leash,” you replied, ignoring her sighing and standing back at the door, “I’ll be lucky if we can even get this done by the morning.” 

Natasha called out your name once, then twice, and by the third, you snapped with, “Busy, Nat! Please! Would you go away, or go to sleep first? I can’t concentrate with you hovering over me!”

You only realised the severity of your words a few seconds after it left your mouth, as you then looked up at Natasha, who had tears in her eyes, and a warm cup of tea fixed for you, standing by the doorway again. Guilt needled into your heart, but she was already retreating to the bedroom by the time you tried to stand. 

“Wait, Nat–” 

“–Save it. I’m going to bed.” Her tone cold and unnerving, you would have almost missed the sniffle in her voice. Sighing, you returned to the call with Maria while Natasha beat herself up for letting her usually well-concealed emotions appear in front of you. Her and her stupid hormones.

But the guilt never really went away, and your focus never returned for the night. Whatever the chief of security was rambling about suddenly didn’t make sense, your emails were only piling higher and higher, and Maria knew the moment you started another call with her barely an hour later of what you were going to ask of her. 

“I have to go, Maria, I’m sorry. I’ll finish this tomorrow.”

“No, no,” Maria tried reasoning, but you were already shutting down your computer, “If you leave us now, I am never going to forgive you, Agent!” 

But her threats fell on deaf ears, as you quickly muttered another apology, and ended the call. Leaving your phone in the study to beep the entire night, you knew you were placing more trust in Maria and the team’s abilities than before you left for the cabin, and you knew somewhere along the line, your mind had made up of the shift in priorities, too. 

Natasha felt your arms underneath her sleeping figure soon after, and at the expense of Maria’s wrath in the morning, you slid in bed with her. She tried pushing you away, but her body worked against her as she practically melted into you while you whispered murmurs of apology into her skin. You were upset, and had thought her reaction was a little unwarranted, but chose not to speak of it. 

She won this time. 

– 

The second strike came a week after the first. The compromise had spread to other areas of SHIELD as well, and while you tried as best as you could to help out from the cabin, you knew you had to prioritise Natasha and the baby as well. 

Without much space for creativity or freedom to invent new recipes, you knew you had been preparing the same repetition of healthier, simpler meals for Natasha. And while she had never been a picky eater, pregnancy had drastically shifted her palate and tastes for food. 

So when she found you cooking a variation of whatever vegetable, stock, and rice you had left in the fridge for the third day in a row, she thought it was more than fair to turn up her nose and let out a I’m tired of that to you. 

But the nearest diner and pizza places were over an hour away, and you did not like Natasha eating so many of the mac and cheese boxes she had bought in bulk so often. So you replied with a, “It’s all we have, we’d have to make do for the rest of the week, I think.”

You didn’t miss the groan in her throat as she threw her hands in the air, before throwing herself onto the sofa. “Then I’m not eating. I can’t stomach that.”

“Natasha, don't be childish.” You reasoned, “You can’t not eat.”

You were met with a middle finger in the air then, and while you would have usually let it go, attribute it to pregnancy side effects and whatever that came along with it, you were tired, and hung out dry from work. And a middle finger in the air from the one person you were stuck with, who seemed like they had a problem with almost everything you did, was too much for you then. 

“Fine. Then don’t.” You switched off the stove, and threw the ingredients into the trash before retreating to the study to finish more work. You could tell Natasha was caught off-guard with your reaction, but she didn’t want to back down, and she was already pissed too. 

She left for a nap to quell the growling of her stomach later on, still holding out against you and not giving in. Somewhere along the line, she heard the front door click and you stepping out, but thought nothing of it; you were probably out for a run, or checking on the garden outside, and she was not risking the comfortable position she finally found to question you what you were doing at nearly twelve midnight. 

But when the rumbling of her stomach became too hard to ignore later on, Natasha had no choice but to leave the safety and comfort of the bed to forage for food downstairs. She could already imagine the bare ingredients left in the fridge, nothing salvageable and she had to grovel at you to make her something at least edible for her in the end. 

But you were downstairs this time, watching the television, and when her eyes met yours, you pointed towards the dining table; where the table was set out with an overwhelming number of takeout boxes from her favourite Chinese place at the edge of town. She had mentioned it to you as a craving offhandedly the previous night, but Natasha would never have imagined you would take her seriously, considering how long it would take to get there and back.

Her heart fell to her stomach, and apologies were about to tumble out of her lips when you stood up, and led her to sit at the dining chair. 

“I wanted to wake you from your nap, but I figured waiting for you would be safer,” you gave her a small smile, ladleing hot and sour soup for her, “And I got new groceries and a recipe book. Hopefully tomorrow we’ll have better lunches and dinners. Sorry about today, love.” 

Tears welled in her eyes again, but this time, Natasha swallowed them back down to crash her lips against yours in gratefulness. 

Your guilt always got the best of you. She won again. 

– 

The third strike, however, did not end up with you giving in so easily, and forever shifted the dynamic in your relationship.

It had been the end of the very exhausting episode of finally fixing the compromised SHIELD Intelligence sectors, and Maria and the team had asked you out to celebrate. You were wary of leaving behind Natasha all alone in the cabin, and even more afraid of bringing the invitation up to her, but Maria was persistent about you enjoying yourself for just one night. And in truth, you did want to go. 

Natasha was reluctant to let you go, but even Clint and the rest of the team’s advice about cutting you some slack, not keeping you on such a tight leash rang back through her, and eventually, she agreed. You caught the doubt on her face as you were getting ready, and you knew she wanted to say something, anything, to try to convince you not to go, to just stay home with her and watch another round of Netflix series, but you knew you had to do at least one thing without her in this journey. It was only healthy to let her be alone once in a while. 

With a kiss to her forehead and a promise to be home by midnight, you left Natasha standing on the porch then, the light washing the night and her figure with honey. 

–

Maria did always take her celebrations quite seriously, however. With wine and good conversations flowing into the night, it was easy to forget about the promise you had made to make it back by twelve for Natasha. By the time you even left the restaurant, it was half past midnight, and the team was already making fun of you for leaving earlier than they all were. 

“Romanoff’s never been an easy one to deal with, huh?” One of the agents piped up, meeting with a resounding agreement and laughter from the rest of the team. “Hard-headed on the job, even more hard-headed in bed, Agent.”

You flipped him off then, the hint of a grin on your face now only customary. “You know how she is, Ward. Leave her be.”

“Hey, I’m not the one stupid enough to marry her,” he shot back, “She’s crazy, and not the good kind. If I had your patience, and your looks, Agent, I know Romanoff’s the furthest thing I would touch with a stick; would’ve bagged a dumb supermodel, at least. Though now, you did kind of strike gold in the looks department, huh? That hourglass figure sculpted by nothing the KGB could beat out of her.”

Maria had elbowed him in the ribs, hard, but you could only give back a sad smile and begin to walk away. “That’s…my wife for you.” 

Before another round of jibes and remarks were thrown towards your wife, the cab you had ordered arrived, and as you got in and said your goodbyes to the team you had not seen for months, you couldn’t help but repeat Ward’s insensitivity in your head over and over again, all throughout the drive home. 

–

By the time you walked into the door, it was already nearing two in the morning, and you didn’t need Natasha’s murderous glare to know you had left her worried, and scared, that you were not coming home. 

“I know, I know,” you sighed, struggling to take off your shoes, “I’m a little late. And a little tipsy. Sorry.”

You wanted to get it over and done with quickly, so you could head off to bed and avoid the fight rumbling altogether. But Natasha had other plans. 

“Nearly two hours late,” she corrected, then, “What were you guys doing outside?”

“Dinner, drinks, the usual. I was with Maria, Ward, Coulson, the usual.”

Natasha cringed at the mention of Ward, and you knew you hit a sore point with her. “What did you guys talk about?”

“Nat…” you shook your head, “...Boundaries, remember?” 

“Just…you know how Ward is. Did he say anything about me to you?”

“Nothing I haven’t heard of.” The wine was returning to your bloodstream, as you struggled to make it past the couch in a straight line. 

But Natasha blocked your path altogether. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

You gave her an incredulous look, eyebrows furrowed, before sighing. “It means…Ward is Ward. He is always going to make uncalled for jokes, comments, and this has been him since our Academy days. I’ve learnt to just ignore it, and you should too.”

“But you listen to him, don’t you? And you let his words get to you sometimes.”

“Sometimes,” you agreed, “But I forget it quickly after. Nothing that comes out of his mouth when he’s had alcohol is of value, anyway.” 

“Do you agree with him in those cases, then?” Natasha backed away, her tone accusatory. 

You frowned, shaking your head, until the woman let it slip that Maria had informed her of what Ward said, along with the updates on where you were for the night. You cursed internally, reminding yourself to scold Maria later, when Natasha continued with, “Do you regret marrying me, darling?”

Taken aback as you were, you refused to let Natasha’s insecurities get the best of her tonight. Standing up to walk past her again, you replied with, “What are you talking about, Nat? I’m going to get some work done, you should go to bed. It’s late.” 

“Do you spend time with people like Ward, and all those other assholes you used to buddy up in the Academy, because you can’t stand to be around me? Literally anybody else but me seems to make you happier to be around these days.” 

You didn’t like where the conversation was going, and even more the accusations she was spilling out. It was unfair, and wrong, and all the things you did not want to deal with tonight. “You’re my wife, Natasha. Of course I’m happy to spend time with you. Jesus, I leave for one night and you come and accuse me of things I never am, it’s ridiculous! I’m going to the study, don’t wait up for me in bed. We have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow.”

–

You told yourself to forget about it; to get over yourself and your ego, to forgive Natasha, and talk to her about it in the morning. If it was something she was insecure about, she would raise her concerns then, when the both of you were calmer, and more ready to hear each other out. But perhaps you had had enough, or you were mad at something beyond Natasha's control; either way, the more time you spent stewing, and thinking, in that study, the more you couldn’t concentrate on your work and the more you got angry at your wife’s persistence and jealousy. 

Why couldn’t she be better? Why couldn’t Natasha be easier to love? Why did everyone make her out to be such a good person, such a victim, and paint you as the evil one for wanting better? Mostly, you were upset that nobody even bothered to consider things from your point of view. It was always take care of her, don’t hurt her even further, or even you should know better than to treat her like this, as if five years of marriage would magically fix every problem the two of you would encounter, as if you could just give in to everything because she was Natasha and she was always right. 

Your eyes drifted to the framed photo of the full team after one particularly difficult mission, where everyone was nearly knocked out and all ready to go home to rest for the next week or so. Yet, there were triumphant smiles, fists pumped into the air in excitement to go home. Natasha was beside a still-optimistic Steve, while you were a few people down beside Tony with…Wanda draped over you. 

you remembered it was the mission where she had the bullet graze on her hip. it had become difficult for her to stand by then, but she was still insisting to be in the picture before you could rush her for medical attention. so the best she could do was lean on you for support, her body draped over yours as she gave you a dopey grin, while you smiled at the camera. the end result was her eyes focused on your face, instead of the camera in front, but it was still one of your favourite photographs. 

a deep, ugly feeling rose in you then. why was Wanda the only one able to see you for who you were? why was she the only one willing to listen to you, to hear you out on things, and let you come home even after all that you’ve done? Why couldn’t you love her instead? it was so late, almost four in the morning, but you managed to bang your head against the wall behind with minimal noise, and stood up to do what you were sure you were going to regret in the morning. 

your phone was still by the kitchen counter, and wanda’s number was memorised by heart. but right as you punched in her number, pressed the call button, the anger, the vengeance, dissipated. this was low, even for you, you recognised. 

your heart began to thump slowly at what you’ve done. the phone rang once, twice, and by the third, you tried to look away from it, turning around to the living room to distract yourself, when the sight that greeted you made you feel only a million times worse. 

natasha was asleep on the sofa, feet propped up on the armrests, head lolling to the side as she snored softly. one of her hands was dangling in the air, while the other…the other rested over her stomach, where even under the lowlights of the small lamp by the reading corner, you saw it for the first time. her stomach had rounded out ever so slightly, and a bump had finally formed. 

you were sure the tears that sprang to your eyes were the most confusing mix of angry, disappointed, yet happy tears ever, and in the silence of the cabin, far away from anyone else, you had wanted to scream. why you were put in one of the worst dilemmas of your life, why you, of all people, had to be the one to go through this, you were more angry at yourself than anyone else by then. natasha was carrying your child, a blessing you had been hoping for for ages, and you were considering leaving her right then. 

“hello?” it was wanda’s voice through your phone that broke you out of your trance. she sounded sleepy, and tired, but you caught the twinge of optimism that she greeted you with as well. 

your throat was too choked up to answer her. you were sure that if you had opened your mouth, everything would change. nothing would be the same ever again, and you were going to lose everything you ever loved for the past five years. 

you couldn’t do it. so when wanda called out your name, prompted a second hello, you ignored how good it felt to hear her voice, and hung up the call immediately. 

a/n: PART 3! PART 3! SOON!

[ghcstao3]

reunion drabble based on this

-

Johnny shouldn’t be awake at this hour, but he is anyway, and that’s about the only reason he ever hears the knocking at his flat’s door.

He decides to ignore it initially, playing it up to his imagination as he plucks away at his thesis, just as he has been for the past several months, but then it happens again—sharp, abrupt, loud. Without a doubt someone is wanting his attention.

It's irritation that reaches him first, rather than some mild form of fear. Johnny takes his time getting up from his desk, stretching with a low groan and shaking the pins and needles from his foot. He figures whoever it is would be willing to wait—they must be, being that they're so inclined to disturb him at such an ungodly hour.

His slippered footsteps drag as he moves toward the door, his near-chronic exhaustion weighing heavy on his eyelids.

There's a third knock just as he reaches his destination. It sounds more desperate than the last.

Johnny turns the lock and swings open the door.

And suddenly he's more awake than he's ever been.

"Simon?"

Except it isn't him, not really. Sure, his face is the same, give or take a few new scars. And sure, those are the shoulders Johnny had watched him grow into, and sure, that's the ugly tattoo that they both hate on his forearm—but it's not Simon.

His eyes were never that hollow.

For a moment, as Simon remains stock-still in his doorway, Johnny starts to think everything currently is just a figment of his imagination. That he's worked another too-late night and has just fallen into a grief-induced dream in the hopes of having Simon back any way that he can.

But then Simon speaks, and he sounds like his vocal cords have been torn to shreds, and Johnny doesn't think he'd ever imagine something quite so awful.

"I'm sorry," Simon rasps. "I didn't—I—"

Johnny wants to push this imposter away. He wants to pull him into the flat and never let go.

Instead all he does is stand there just as uselessly, shoulders slumped as a pooling sadness bubbles up into nothing more than a second, pitiable, "Simon."

And like that, the dam breaks. Something snaps, and with the silent tears that trail down Simon's sunken cheeks, there's a glimpse of him that returns. There's a glance of something Johnny recognizes just in time for Simon to come crashing forward into him, quietly crying into his shoulder and clinging onto his shirt like a lifeline.

It's second nature, to hold Simon in his arms. Even as conflicted as Johnny feels.

He coaxes Simon inside, gently kicking the door shut as he leads the man to the living space, their contact kept unbroken. It's become much less a home in Simon's absence, nothing more than a place to house Johnny in a city that felt so lonely without Simon.

And even then. Some nights had been too difficult to even manage that.

Johnny brings them to the couch, where Simon easily curls into him like he has so many times before, both in sorrow and otherwise. His head ends up in Johnny's lap, Johnny merely able to pet hair that's been shorn too short to card fingers through as he normally had. He lets Simon sob into his stomach, unable to offer anything more than soft hushes and words of reassurance.

The crying gradually slows as Simon eventually falls asleep, fists balled around the hem of Johnny's shirt.

He doesn't mind. He sort of just feels... numb.

Johnny thinks he should be feeling something—maybe relief, or hell, even joy—but he really doesn't feel much of anything at the moment. He's not sure what he could feel.

But as he continues to absentmindedly scratch his nails against Simon's scalp, he supposes it doesn't really matter here and now. He supposes it won't matter for another few hours, not until Simon has woken up to a better state of mind.

They'll have plenty to talk about—if this really is his Simon. Is still his Simon. And Johnny doesn't know if he looks forward to that.

He just hopes that for once, after this past miserable year, something could finally turn out okay.

[extralively]

Sooooo, I just caught up to your latest chapter upload 😭 And umm.... I think my heart just grew 10 sizes 🥹.

Dear heavens above, please keep the Gojo-Wakatsuki-Fushiguro family safe. 🙏 I mean, they've been giving family vibes since Book 1, but this latest chapter is a whole other level.

Yura being fiercely protective of Tsumiki (like a real mom), Megumi being supportive and watching over Tsumiki, Tsumiki being concerned for everybody in spite of her condition and her need for recovery, and Satoru being such a provider and an absolute pillar of resilience, doing his best to hold it all together and even bring the four of them back to his own apartment. Like, okay Dad.

And Tsumiki is a sorcerer now! UAHDKGHASDGK

How do I properly compute this information..? Canon-divergence go BRRRRR~ Let's gooooo 🔥🔥🔥.

Also Yura the Curse Breaker is one hell of a title. 🔥🔥🔥

(I am wondering if Tsumiki turning into a sorcerer is because of Yura, or if it's just an aftereffect of Yura dismantling Tsumiki's curse. ��� Strongly speculating that Tsumiki has Yorozu's curse technique, but I'll be here waiting patiently for whatever you have planned for 'Miki as the story progresses.. I'm so happy she's alive and well istg 🥹😭)

Side note: There's the rare and occasional story where Tsumiki is present alongside Gojo's love interest and Megumi, and I feel so bad for Tsumiki most of the time, because imagine being a normal human in a "family" full of sorcerers. I don't care how loving that family is portrayed to be, it still has to be an isolating experience. Being the odd one out always sucks, but I guess that depends on the person anyways. Some actually revel in being the odd one out... (👀 looking at you, Suguru, and your biological family of non-sorcerers).

And and and... the way Satoru and Yura both notice that there's something different about the way they look at each other throughout this chapter and just can't find the name for it actually kills me (in the best way). 🥹😭

Also her stuff in his closet? HADJSGKG Might as well live together at this point. 😭

These two have been falling deeper and deeper in love as this story progresses and they're hopelessly oblivious, and I know they're getting it together (in baby steps). 💘 It sends an arrow straight through my heart every time. The payoff when they realize it and acknowledge it themselves is going to be sooooo....

...She’d missed this. She’d missed him. Yura didn’t think twice before turning around in his arms, her whole body then sagging into him as pure relief washed over her .....she did push herself closer... and finally, she actually felt at home.

Home is where they're all together as a family... 🏡

Also, home = Satoru... Yura, you're so in love with him, how can you willfully brush it under the rug every time?

he held her close—unwilling to let go. (He’d stayed up a while after she had gone to sleep, just enjoying the way she felt back in his arms, before his own exhaustion took over and he too passed out.) --- Satoru turned his head, his gaze meeting hers. He hated seeing her eyes filled with worry again, and this time it was worry over him. He wanted to make it go away, he wanted to see her eyes lighting up with joy instead of this; he wished one of his abilities were snapping his fingers and making everything right again, but there was only so much that even the strongest could accomplish. So he only turned his body to her, pressing his face against her shoulder. Yura seemed surprised for a moment, but one of her hands eventually slid up his neck, slipping into his hair. Don’t worry about me, he wanted to say. His hands came up to her waist, lightly gripping at her shirt. Don’t worry about me or I’ll worry about you. —he’d lost Suguru, but he hadn’t lost her

"I hope I never lose you, hope it never ends~" 🎶🎧

There's something so sweet and tender and wonderful about being emotionally vulnerable and intimate with someone on this level in spite of the shit storm surrounding you.

Someone play this song on repeat for them until they realize it all, please. I'm begging~ 😭🙏 YOU'RE IN LOVE... They're so in love. 😩😭

One night he wakes Strange look on his face Pauses, then says You're my best friend And you knew what it was He is in love

Satoruuuuu, the signs~ the signs, I'm telling youuuu~ 😭😩

Your fic's an emotional rollercoaster, and I don't ever want to leave. 😁 I can't thank you enough for writing it and sharing it... always~

This message was an emotional rollercoaster, and I appreciated every bit of it ༼ಢ_ಢ༽

Satoru and Yura are so in love that their subconscious have already 100% accepted it, even if they won't actually put it into words. Like they've already accepted that they're a little family, and Yura's brain has already cemented that THESE ARE MY KIDS ILL KILL WHOEVER TRIES TO HURT THEM

(that's also me looking @ canon)

And yes, Yura has a whole section of her stuff in Satoru's closet now, just like Satoru has a drawer full of his stuff at her place too ehehe. Actually, they've got a bunch of each other's stuff scattered around their apartments, they're like halfway living together now--clothes, shoes, toothbrushes, other bathroom products... I mean, if someone were to just walk into Yura's place it would be painfully obvious that she has a boyfriend lol (Satoru's place is big so you'd have to go to his bedroom, but then yep, there's a woman living there too)

Tsumiki is one of them now! I wasn't actually planning for it initially lol but then it just made sense. Now I'm having to plan for more of her presence in later events, but that should be fun hehe. I'll just say that I'm planning stuff, but anything else would spoilers (◡‿◡✿)

But yeah, she was the odd one out in their little family (and any fics that actually bother to include her lmao). I think she might not have felt it so strongly growing up since Megumi wasn't a full-blow sorcerer at that point, but I think she'd eventually feel a little left out whenever she couldn't be included in jujutsu business. But not anymore tho!! ಠ⌣ಠ

Anyway, things are going to get a little bit better for them now (before it gets worse oop), so get ready for some fluffy but emotional moments in the next couple of chapters or so! And as always, thank you so much for reading and commenting like this <333 It truly is what keeps me writing, being able to share it with you guys <333 Thank you so much!

(...also there's a new School Stories oneshot incoming, beware ಠ‿ಠ)

EDIT: also lemme jam to that song while writing the next fluffy moment between them ᕕ(⌐■_■)ᕗ ♪♬

[jerzwriter]

What's Forever For? Universe Miranda - Part 1

This fic is part of the What's Forever For? universe. For those who follow my T/C HC, their background is a little different here. A headcanon will be posted soon. 😊

Book:              Open Heart (Post Series-Alternate Universe)

Pairing:           Tobias Carrick x Casey (past)

Rating:            Teen

Warnings: Divorce, heartbreak, child coping with divorce

Category:       Angst/Short-Series/AU

Words: 3,050

Series Summary: Tobias & Casey signed the divorce papers. Feelings of guilt and fear of rejection kept both from admitting their true feelings... they didn't want their marriage to end. This short series will focus on how they move forward in the immediate aftermath of their divorce. We'll learn a little more about how they got here and watch as they try to move forward. It will take us from the night of their divorce to approximately 2-3 years in the future.

Chapter Summary: Tobias falls apart after his divorce is finalized. Casey does her best to hold herself together for the sake of her son. Two different women are there to help each of them through in different ways. It's night one of the beginning of the rest of their lives.

@choiceschallenge-may2023 | Breakup

This was not what she had planned this evening.

It was a cold and rainy night, even by New England standards. When the weatherman warned that it would feel more like winter was being ushered in than spring, he didn’t lie. After an especially tiring day at Edenbrook, a treacherous commute home was the last thing Miranda needed, but it made it even sweeter now that she was finally where she longed to be.

Her couch never looked so inviting, and she was sure her oversized grey sweatshirt and fuzzy socks never felt warmer. There was just one thing that could perfect this picture, she thought, as she pulled her long, chestnut brown locks into a messy bun atop her head… and that’s when her tea kettle whistled.

Her eyes shut as a content smile spread across her face, then she made her way to her tiny kitchen. She never stirring a dash of milk and sugar into her hot tea could bring her this much joy, but she wasn’t questioning it. Pulling her legs up under her, she nuzzled into her fluffy couch. The remnants of the cold that settled in her bones began to thaw at long last. Home. This is precisely where she wanted to be.

The image of that fleeting moment of bliss was still fresh in her mind as she hurried down a cold, dark Boston street. Her arms wrapped tightly around her body, as her coat seemed to be doing little to keep that cold from settling in her again. She saw the glow emitting from Donahue’s sign in the distance, and a mixture of relief and trepidation filled her.

“I’m almost there…” she muttered, unsure of what she was about to find.   

Her shoulders fell as she sighed with relief when she opened the door and saw him. As pitiful a sight as he was, she had imagined much worse. Reggie shot her a nervous grin in her direction as she quickly moved through the now empty bar.

“Thank you for calling me,” she said as she approached the reason her night was upended. 

She knew the bravado Tobias displayed when she called to check on him earlier was just that. But she never imagined he was sitting alone at Donahue’s, drinking away his pain. Looking at him, she was angry with herself. What kind of a friend wouldn’t realize and leave him to end up this way? But then again… it was complicated.

“I tried a couple of the guys first,” Reggie offered, halting his words when he saw Miranda had taken offense.   “But it appears they’re all on duty tonight.”

“Yes, they are. But I can handle this,” she insisted with a plastered smile.

He looked so pitiful and defeated… hunched over the very spot where he usually held court. But there were no stupid jokes to be told tonight and none of his boisterous laughter to follow. The smile that sometimes seemed ever-present in his eyes was hidden behind heavy lids, and his smirk… that smirk that just left her… well, yeah… that was missing, too. The Tobias she knew had been replaced by a man who had spent the better part of the night attempting to numb the pain he chose not to face.

Miranda had her own feelings about his divorce, and like so many other feelings, she kept them largely to herself. No matter how much she believed that the painful present would lead him to a happier future, her friend was hurting, and she needed to get him home right now.

~~~~~ 

Tobias was shifting uncomfortably on the very place Miranda found her refuge just hours before. It was no fault of the couch; comfort wasn’t something Tobias would find any time soon.

“You shouldn’t have to deal with this,” he groaned, his eyes shut tight to filter out even the dim lighting in the apartment.   “I’m not your mess to clean up.”  

“Hey,” she smiled as she assured him. “That’s what friends are for, right? I like to think you’d do the same for me.”

He didn’t have to say a word, for that answer was already known. Tobias had made bailing Dr. Miranda Barret out a side gig ever since he took the young intern under his wing at Mass Kenmore many years ago. She was so timid and unsure of herself back then, and the other interns smelled her blood in the water. Tobias went out of his way to help her see just how capable… how badass she was. And as Miranda continued to thrive, an unbreakable bond was formed.

Their friendship transcended the walls of the hospital. And one couldn’t blame her for hoping that one day they’d be more. He was a well-known physician who commanded respect. Charming, handsome, and oozing confidence… she had watched women far out of her league rendered speechless by him at a mere glance time and time again. Yes, he was a player, and she knew this was his game… but she was different. He showed her kindness, and his interest in her was pure, something she viewed with disdain at the time, but in the end, she was convinced it would be for the best. She wasn’t a nameless, faceless nobody who was here today and gone tomorrow. No, she’d be around for the long haul… and he wouldn’t be her attending forever.

She had to bide her time… enjoy the ride… she wasn’t ready for anything serious yet, anyway. But one day, things would be different. She was sure of it each time she saw him smile in her direction and every time someone mistook them for a couple. Yes, they’d correct them most times, but sometimes… they just let it go. Her residency would be over in six short months, and she was already dreaming up how she’d broach the topic of taking that next step until that night…

“Hey, are you going to the game tonight, Barrett?” his voice boomed from down the hall as he neared.

“Of course!” She gushed. “You know I never pass up a chance to see my favorite pitcher on the mound.”

“That’s my girl! And you’re coming out after, right?”

“You know it!”

“Good!” He smiled in a way she had never seen before, so relaxed, genuine… joyful. For a brief moment, she allowed herself to believe it as for her, until…. “Because there’s someone coming who I really want you to meet.”

“Oh?”

“I’ve kept it on the down low because, well… it’s out of character for me, I’ll admit… and I wanted to make sure it was real but… I’ve been seeing someone.”

“Oh… you have?” she deadpanned.

“Yeah, and I’ve been dying to introduce you. Her name’s Casey, and she’s a doctor at Edenbrook. You know I’ve never been a fan of commitment….”

“To put it mildly,” she smiled, trying to conceal the heartbreak she felt inside.

“Hey, be nice,” he chuckled. “Well, she’s changed all that. Miranda, I’ve never felt like this before. I’ve been dying for the two of you to meet. You’ll get along great; you have so much in common.”

“I’m… sure we do.”

“So, make sure you’re at Donahues,” he beamed. “It’s going to be a great night!”

“Miranda?” his gruff voice ushered her back to the present.

“Oh, yes,” she fumbled. “Sorry.”

He gratefully accepted the tall glass of water she offered, as well as the cool, damp rag she placed on his pounding head.

“This will have to do for now. I know your head hurts, but….”

“But I had a little too much to drink tonight,” he said with a wince.

“Yeah… you did. I thought you had Kyle tonight?”

“I did,” he sighed. “But when we left the courthouse… we were both so down, and Casey asked if she could stop by to see him. I knew she’d feel better if he was with her tonight, so I told her she could take him home.”

Despite his condition, he didn’t miss Miranda’s brow rise at his words. Tobias’s best wishes for the two women getting along never came to be, and arguments could be made on both sides as to why. But right now, he was grateful to Miranda for refraining from sharing her opinions about the woman he still loved desperately, despite divorcing her earlier that day.

“It was very difficult,” he defended without realization. “For both of us, it was really… hard… and I thought she….”

“Tobias,” she interrupted. “You don’t have to explain. Your marriage ended today, and someone who was your everything for over a decade of your life is now… if it had been easy, I’d have to wonder about you… both of you.”

“Thanks,” he half smiled, his eyes wincing with pain.   

“I wish you would have called me,” she whispered. “If I knew you were alone… the night didn’t have to be like this.”

“I’m not your problem,” he reiterated.

“You’re my friend,” she corrected again, mindlessly lacing her fingers with his. “You know I’ll always be here for you… don’t do this again, OK?”

Tobias smiled cautiously, squeezing her hand as his eyes began to shut. “I promise.”

“Now,” she said, adjusting a pillow on the end of her sofa, “why don’t you try to get some rest. You’ll wake up with one hell of a headache, but my hangover cure will be waiting for you.”

“Oh,” he said as he shifted to his side. “And what is that?”

“Well, you’ll just have to wait until the morning,” she teased. “T, before you go to sleep… is there anyone you need to let know … you’re OK?”

“I texted my Mom and told her I’m staying with a friend. And I called Kyle to say goodnight before so…” he began but drifted off to sleep before finishing the sentence.

“So you’re all set,” she smiled gently as she wrapped a soft fleece blanket around him. “Good night, Tobias.”

She turned around to look at him once more before leaving the room, quickly nixing the idea of returning to his side. Then, with a sad smile, she shut off the light and went to her room.

~~~~~ 

Brookline, MA

There was nothing like the scent of her little boy after he just finished his bath. And there was nothing that gave her more faith that she’d be able to move on… somehow… than the feeling of his little body pressed up against hers as he drifted off to sleep. Casey weaved her fingers through Kyle’s wavy brown hair, her soothing touch bringing as much comfort to her as it did to him.

The rollercoaster she was riding had taken her on twists and turns through every possible emotion today. And right now, she felt one she hadn’t expected to feel creeping up on her like a flower defiantly breaking through the pavement, Casey felt gratitude filling her soul. No matter how much her heart was broken or how many dreams she watched die…  this little miracle was in her arms tonight solely because she and Tobias had fallen in love. He was a living, breathing testament to what they had once shared. He was born of a love she thought would never end… and now she knew it never would.

Confident he was asleep, she began to pull away and retreat to her room, but she was only a few steps away when his little voice summonsed her back.  

“Mommy?” He mumbled.

“Yes, baby,” Casey replied, quickly returning to his side.

“How long are we going to stay with Gramma and Grampa?”

“I don’t know, sweetie, for a little while. Then you and I can find a nice new place of our own. We’ll make sure you have a nice big room and a nice yard, and it won’t be far away, so we can see them anytime you want.”

“And it won’t be far from Daddy, too, right, Mommy?”

“Of course, sweetheart. We’ll be sure to be close to Daddy too.”

“I miss Daddy,” he said in a soft voice that shattered the remnants of his mother’s heart. But he needed her to be strong, and she was intent on not letting him down.

“I know, Kyle; he misses you too. It will take us some time to get used to this, but I promise you, we’ll all be OK. You, me, and Daddy, too.”

“Promise?”

“I do,” Casey smiled so purely that the little boy had no option but to believe her.

“Good night, Mommy. I love you.”

Scooping him up in his arms, Casey held her son close, mustering up all her strength to conceal the tears that were aching to be released.

“I love you too, munchkin. Now get some sleep so we can get breakfast together in the morning like we planned.”

“OK, Mommy,” he smiled, and he was out like a light.

Casey’s breath hitched as she closed the bedroom door gently behind her. She had never felt more alone. Her parents were in their room just down the hall, and with a simple knock, she knew they’d be at her side; but she had already felt like she had imposed enough. She was a big girl, she had made her own big girl problems, and they graciously extended a parent's undying love to help her through, but she didn’t want to ask for anymore. So, she quietly tiptoed past their room to take refuge in her childhood bedroom.

She sat in bed for what felt like hours, though it had only been moments. Still silently berating herself for not telling Tobias her true feelings… but the papers were signed now… and they were over.  Fear kept her from confessing her true feelings, and now she’d have a lifetime to wonder, what if…  A big girl decision with big consequences, and now, they had no choice but to find their way to a new normal that neither wanted to embrace.

Her fingers ran along her phone case as she weighed the pros and cons in her mind. She wanted desperately to call him, yet it was also the last thing she wanted to do.

It wouldn’t hurt to let him know Kyle is asleep. To thank him one more time for letting him stay with me tonight, she thought. And as if it were ever a choice, her fingers were dialing the number into her phone.  Her heart longed to hear his voice and feared it at the same time. But that fear was never realized, and that ache never soothed.

“Hello?” A woman’s voice answered.

Taken aback, Casey looked at her phone, relief flowing when she realized she had dialed his house phone. Like her, he was temporarily staying with his mother. While she may not have Tobias’s voice to soothe her, Vivian’s was almost as welcome.

“Vivian! Oh, gosh, I’m so sorry… I meant to dial Tobias and, well… I’m not exactly myself tonight, and… I called you. I hope you don’t….”

“There’s no need to apologize, dear,” Vivian comforted.  “In fact, all things happen for a reason, and I’m so glad you called. I’ve been thinking of you but didn’t want to overstep. Are you… how are you holding up, Casey?”

Casey’s eyes clenched, nodding furiously as she sniffed back tears. Vivian offered her the mercy of pretending she didn’t hear, though deep inside, Casey knew she did.

“I’m doing all right,” Casey lied. “I need to be all right… for my son. Right? We’re all going to be fine.”

“Yes,” Vivian reassured. “It will be, I promise, it will.”

“I know,” Casey gulped. “I… I don’t mean to keep you, but is Tobias around? I just wanted to let him know Kyle is asleep and to thank him, I’m not sure how I would have gotten through tonight without Kyle here.”

“Tobias is already asleep,” Vivian covered, not for her son, but for Casey. They may not be married anymore, and she knew Casey was strong.  But everyone had their limits, and Vivian wanted to do all she could to offer Casey some sense of comfort.  “It was a rough night for all and….”

“I understand,” Casey jumped in. “I’m glad… I’m glad he’s asleep. Well, I should… I….” Casey couldn’t speak as another wave of grief washed over her.  A realization that should have been clear hit her like a ton of bricks.  Hiding her emotions was no longer an option.

“Casey, what is it?” Vivian implored.

“I just realized,” she breathed through sobs. “You’re not my mother-in-law anymore, you’re… you’re not….”

“Casey. Sweetheart, you take a deep breath, and you listen to me, OK? You are the mother of my only grandchild! You’re family, and nothing will ever change that.  Besides, when you were in that courthouse today, you may have signed some papers, but my name was not on them. You are my daughter-in-law, Casey, and that will never change… do you hear?”

“Yes,” she wept freely. “Thank you, Vivian; I couldn’t bear losing you too.”

“That’s not a worry you need to carry. Now, are you OK? Do you want to get one of your parents while I wait?”

“No,” Casey insisted.  “They are asleep.  They’re asleep, just like Kyle and Tobias, and I should be asleep too. Tomorrow is a new day, right?”

“It most certainly is, dear. When you bring Kyle here tomorrow, we can have a cup of tea if you like. But only if you want to.”

“I, I’d love that. I… I need your help, Vivian. I need to learn how to be friends with Tobias… just friends… and I… I need your help.”

“You and Tobias are already friends, my dear. I know that’s true. But yes,” she sighed wearily. “It’s going to be an adjustment for all. But I’m here and will help you both any way I can.”

“I appreciate that. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, my dear.  Now, please try to get some sleep.”

“I will.”

Casey closed her eyes, grateful that exhaustion finally closed the valve on all she was feeling today.  Tomorrow was a new day, and no one knew what it held, but she was confident of one thing… she’d make it through. Survival was guaranteed… but living? That remained to be seen.

Tagging in reblog.

[daydreamingatnight209]

PSA - I am still technically on a break, this is something I have written to try and get back in the groove! ☺️

My requests are still open and when I’m back full time I will continue with them! If you want to request anything, you are welcome to, just check out my rules first 🥰

This one is for for the Mason Mount / England NT Fans, feedback is always welcome: HATE IS NOT ✨💕

“Little Human”

Mason Mount x Female Reader

Warnings - Pregnancy? Fluff 💞

Word Count - 1.6K

—————————————————

I remember when I first found out about the pregnancy, it felt like I stopped breathing for a moment as I stared down at the row of tests. Positive, positive and… positive.

I always imagined starting a family with Mason , after all we have been together since we were 18.

I just did not think that it would be while we were this young. What if he won’t want to be with me? Will I be holding him back from his dreams? Could I manage on my own? A million and one questions swarmed in my head, forcing me to grab the sink in order to steady myself.

I was a mess all day, waiting till he got home from training. He could sense something was up the minute he walked through the door.

He finds his way to me immediately.

“Y/N? what’s wrong love?”

He finds his place on the sofa with me and it is like the words spill out before I can stop them.

“Mase… hypothetically If we were to have a baby, erm, how would you react?”

I watch as confusion clouds his face and I silently tell myself not to throw up.

“Well, you already know that I want kids one day and I would love for you to be that person. I mean just Imagine a mini Mount running around”

A smile grows on this face at that, and I am hit with a small wave of relief; until he looks back at me and says, “but why ask?”

I pray that I don’t look how I feel as I reveal the truth.

“I’m pregnant Mase”

As expected, his face goes from confusion to shock and there is nothing I can do but wait to see how he will take the news.

“I’m, I’m going to be a dad?”

All I can do is nod, not trusting my own voice. The tears that I had been holding in finally spill down my face as he swipes me from my position and swings me around the room in a tight hug, squealing.

“Babe, this Is amazing! He exclaims, whispering how he is getting the chance to be a father.

I can’t help but giggle as I sit back down.

“So, you aren’t mad? I mean we are still only in our early 20’s and you have your career to think ab-“

Mason cuts me words off by suddenly kneeling in front of me and taking my face into his hands.

“Babe I could never be mad at you. So, what if we are still young, we will figure It out; I want this with you”

 ———————————————————

During the pregnancy Mason was an angel, helping me anyway he could and going above and beyond to try and make the process easier on me.

His parents were the first people we told but after that we waited awhile before breaking the news to anyone else, just enjoying being in our magical bubble.

When my bump began to grow, we had realised that we couldn’t hide it any longer.

I remember the morning that final decision was made. I was attempting to put an outfit together but with no success.

“Babeeee” I groaned in front of the bedroom mirror.

“ We have to start telling people”

We started with Declan first as he was Mason’s best friend and then moved on to everyone else, including my family. Foden gave us as many tips as he could, being a young parent himself which I was super grateful for.

With Mason’s strict schedule whenever he had free time you could find him by my side. He would constantly hold me close when we were out and cradle the bump when he could. I will never forget the first time he felt our bundle of joy kick. He wasn’t expecting it so when it happened his hand shot as far away from me as possible.

I couldn’t help but laugh at this reaction.

“What was that?!” he panics, as I try to get my words out.

“Babe, its fine. Here, come on give me your hand”

He seemed hesitant but brings his right hand back to my stomach. I watch as his smile grows like the first time, I broke the news to him. Our baby continues to kick, and I watch as Mason marvels at the motions.

He looks up at me, his eyes shining; “there is a real living being in there. A real living thing!”

My heart felt as if it could burst with the scene in front of me.

One night when we found ourselves in front of the tv I found myself struggling. Mason as per cradled my bump as I did my best to get myself into a comfortable position on the sofa, unfortunately our stubborn little human wasn’t having it.

“Ooh the little one is active today” Mason laughs, flashing me his famous cheeky smile.

I groan feeling slightly overwhelmed as I lean into this chest. “Whenever you stop talking, they start kicking”

I feel the vibrations from the small laugh he lets loose, before he lowers his voice to whisper, “Come on little one, lets try and help mummy, shall we?”

—————————————————

When it came to the birth, I cannot say I was expecting the events to unfold the way that they did. The Euros were among us, and I was determined to see Mason on the field with our England team. I travelled with him and stayed with him for as long as I could, I was surprisingly calm considering I found myself in the unfamiliar situation. His teammates were as welcoming as ever, and I soon settled in.

“Y/N! How are you managing?” Jack asks, coming up to guide me out of any crowds.

“I’m 38 weeks and 3 days Grealish, how do you think I am doing?” I answer with a small laugh.

He flashes me a smile as others players come to say hello. “Well, I am glad you could join us”

Mason reappears by my side, pressing a kiss onto my forehead gently.

“Sorry Love, got caught up in pregame chatter; come on let me to you to your seat”

As we walk down to my seating area, Dec comes up from behind.

“Sitting in the managers chair aye?”

I laugh at comment and give a witty one in response.

“Call it Pregnancy Privilege shall we Dec” I throw in a wink, hiding a wince as I feel a sharp tug in my stomach. I hold my bump, brushing it off as I take my seat. That was my first mistake.

By half time I knew that it wasn’t Brackston Hicks anymore. My water had broken in the middle of a Euro match. I have to applaud the medical team on standby for their quick thinking. Mason was by side in an instant.

“But your… match” I croak out, doing my best to work through the pain. He takes my hand and presses a kiss onto my forehead as I am put onto a stretcher.

“You fool, Henderson is taking over for me. Come on, lets go meet our little human.”

I was half sure that the whole hospital could here the screams falling from my mouth. No amount of pain relief could help me now, no matter what the midwife said.

I lean against my baby daddy as he supports me through the process, halfway through he had climbed behind me onto the bed to hold me up.

“I can’t do this Mase, I really can’t” I cry out, gasping as another wave of pain rushes over me.

He gives me a little squeeze, muttering words of encouragement in my ear.

I look up at him, my eyes pleading. “Don’t let go of my hand, okay?”

A few hours after my protests I give birth to a beautiful baby boy. It was only a couple of days later that we finally agreed on names.

“Welcome, Little Oscar Mount”

A couple of the team visit us in the hospital after the match and we find out that they won and commence to the next stage but the rest we see a couple weeks later after my release.

My body was still recovering so Mason did a lot of the heavy lifting in the beginning and my heart swelled at the site of the pair each time.

On the day of the visit to the team I could here Mason cooing in the nursery.

“One tiny boot, two tiny boots. There we go little lad, all ready” he whispers ticking our son, making him form some sort of a smile.

Mason spots me in the doorway and blushes slightly. “Don’t be embarrassed darlin’. I live for moments like this”

I tell him as I pick up our son and walk towards the exist. Mason grabs the nappy bag and follows suit, wrapping his arm around me, keeping his little family close.

I watch as my baby goes around each lad from Dec to their beloved manager. Mason watches with eagle eyes, already missing the feeling of his son in his arms. He grips onto me until we get him back.

“You are such a baby hog” I whisper in his ear, but loud enough for everyone to hear. The room erupts with laughter, but Mason couldn’t care less, he only had his eyes on the new-born.

After an hour or so we head back home, after promising to see everyone again soon. Seems it wasn’t just mason who had fallen so hard for our boy. At least I know he will be well protected.

That night was a peaceful one. We had finally set into a rhythm. Mase enters the nursery just as I had finished feeding Oscar who is now slowly falling asleep on my lap. He crouches down to be on my level, and I rest my head on his shoulder, breathing him in. My perfect little family.

“Thank you, for giving me everything I ever dreamed of Y/N”

[ellitx]

Frailty | Kazuha x Reader

No matter how many times you've run away from your practices, Kazuha is always able to find you.

art belongs to rivaiiwah

word count: 1.8k

           Here you are with the cherry blossoms sprouting from the branches, looking to the casual eye as flowers until they bloom. Who pays attention to their chaotic stems that twist in the joy of new life until they wear colors that soothe the viewer’s perception.

           Then there they are in the air that becomes more welcoming each day, a community of colors, a feast for butterflies and bees. 

           A new beginning. 

           A little pink petal was plucked off from the group, letting it float alone in the air as it landed on your hand. Your eyes peered over the frond and lifted it up to the sunlight to observe the bright colors of it.

           “[Name]-sama, there you are.”

           You whipped your head and smiled at the caller when he approached you. “Kazuha? What brings you here?” You questioned as you fixed your hold on the parasol. His brows scrunched up and let out a sigh as he fixed the sleeve of his outfit. 

           “Ayaka-sama, was looking for you.”

           “Ane? Why’s that?” You questioned.

           He sighed once again and pinched your cheeks a bit harshly. “You need to practice your purification rituals. Your siblings are looking for you again and now they’re worried about you.”

           “Ah— Kazuha, that hurts…!” You grasped his hand to release his hold on your face, but to no avail, he won’t budge. Seconds later, he finally and slowly let go and spared your cheeks from reddening to which you rubbed it to alleviate the sharp pain.

           His gaze went to the blooming flower of cherry blossoms and watched how the wind fluttered the petals. Ruby gems have softened at the sight of the newly sprung tree before focusing on the young princess of Kamisato.

           Your name uttered from his lips making you arch a brow at him in puzzlement. His lips parted slightly and waited for a moment before asking. “I’m just wondering why are you here. There are sakura trees at your residence, though.” He stated as he scratched his cheek with his index finger.

           Your throat hummed and looked at the sky in wonder. “Ah that… I think you already know the answer to that.” He knew for sure he saw your eyes glinted in mischief when you looked at him. 

           That smirk plastered on your face didn’t go unnoticed by him. He was quiet for a minute making you giggle and stifle it with your hand. Kazuha groaned in flicked your head much to your surprise.

           “Ouch!”

           “I’m taking you back to the Kamisato residence whether you like it or not.” 

           “Kazuha!! No please—“

—

           “Oh my, it seems like he already found her.” The young mistress giggled and watched both of you entered through the main gate with the swordsman pushing you inside. You were writhing and shaking your arm, doing your best to escape from him.

           At the sight of your face, your brother’s smile widened, and quickly wore his geta and engulfed you in a bear hug. “[Name], where have you been?! I was worried sick when I saw you weren’t inside your room!” He screeched and cried hysterically before glaring at Kazuha.

           It sent a shiver down his spine before averting his gaze away from Ayato and squared his shoulders. “Hmph, I could’ve found her on my own, but the archon must have graced you to guide my little sister back home.” Your brother grumbled as he patted your head in an assuring manner. You heaved a sigh and mouthed a sorry to your friend which he just waved it off.

           Ayaka reached to where the three of you are and deeply bowed to Kazuha in thanks. “Thank you and sorry for bothering you to look for [Name]. We’ll be sure to compensate you greatly.” She remarked and motioned for him to come inside.

           “It’s fine, Ayaka-sama. I was just happy and relieved to know she didn’t stray too far from here.” He peeked at you from the corner of his eyes before looking back at your older sister.

           “You can drop the formalities. And also, aniki, you’re suffocating [Name].” She respired and pulled you away from Ayato’s loving hugs making you sigh in relief and thank her.

           He pouted and huffed before crossing his arms and narrowly eyed you. His nature quickly changed in a blink and you know for sure you’re in a trouble just the way he lightly frowned at you.

           “[Name].” Your body shivered and avoided looking at him as you cowered behind Kazuha. “Y-yes…?” You muttered softly and tightly gripped on his clothes. 

           “Why did you skipped practicing?” You gulped down your fear and sheepishly smiled at Ayato, trying to think of an excuse. 

           “Well, it’s spring! You know how much I love sakura flowers and watch them bloom before me, aniki!” A peal of tense laughter slipped from your mouth and nudged Kazuha asking for help. Your [eye color] eyes were pleadingly gazed upon his for help as you shook his arm lightly to get him to understand your gestures.

           Sighing for an umpteenth time on this day. He faced Ayato sternly making him pause when he saw Kazuha’s face got darker. A bead of sweat rolled down his temples yet never faltering his stare onto him.

           “Ayato-sama, just lock the door if she ever escapes again.” Kazuha’s eyes returned back to their usual light and grabbed you by your shoulders, placing you in front. His fingers pointed at you and then grinned slyly at you.

           Your eyes widened but before you could open your mouth to speak out, his words made you stopped in your tracks and your face paled while your lips were parted a bit. “If she does run away again, don’t hesitate to call me. I’ll make sure she does her practices frequently.”

           The cunning smile glued on his pretty face made you scared. From the other’s perspective he seemed like an innocent and nice teen, but for you, oh you know that smile very well. He didn’t want to indulge in your escapades and he’s going to pay you back with his own mischievousness. 

    —

           “Sein!”

           You threw a talisman onto the dummy as your index and middle finger were stick together and the rest were closed. “Sein?” Kazuha’s brow raised in bewilderment at your chant and stared at the dummy. He was expecting something would happen but sadly there was none.

           It only stood still, remaining unchanging. “[Name], it’s read as sho-shi-tsu.” Ayaka said as she removed the piece of paper on the figurine. “And isn’t sein something you would hear in Mondstadt?” 

           Your lips formed a grin as your optics shined brightly in excitement. “Sein sounds way cooler than shoshitsu!” A strong impact was thrown on your head making you cry in pain and place your hand on it protectively.

           “[Name]-sama, please take this seriously.” Kazuha exhaled through his nose and stretched your cheeks making you whine even more at the increasing pain. Ayaka laughed lightly at the sight of you two as she took the brush from your hands.

           “I guess we can practice next time, is that alright with you? I still have to practice my sword fight with Tohama.” Ayaka awaited your response while she kept the materials back to their rightful place.

           You merely giggled and shoved her playfully. “It’s fine~ Have a nice date with him!” Her face flushed and her silver eyes widened in surprise as she continuously stuttered. 

           “I-it’s not a date!”

           “Right, right.” You pushed her out of the room and gave her a hug before closing the door gently. You leaned your body against it and heaved a sigh at the exhausting purification practices.

           It really tired your mind and body so much. Even though you joke around sometimes to loosen up that stiff body of yours, you know you still need to work hard on it because of your duty as a shrine maiden. 

           Purifications are much needed and required in the Kamisato house. Ayaka has already mastered everything from arts to music and even poetry, and yet here you are, not even having the slightest talent like her to accomplish such things.

          Ayaka is the embodiment of perfection and nobleness, there's no doubt about that. Her form is even more elegant than yours and how she handles tea ceremonies more delicately unlike you who somehow still spills the tea from nervousness no matter how much you've practiced mastering it.

           It really tired you out how they expect so many things for you. 

           Being noble is really hard.

           The anemo-user noticed your destitute appearance and slowly approached you. 

           “[Name]-sama?” 

           You snapped out from your deep thoughts and shakily looked at him. “O-oh, Kazuha. I forgot you were still here…” You coughed and fixed your outfit, giving him a curious glance and asked.

           “Is something the matter?” 

           “I should be the one asking you that. It seems like something’s troubling you.”

                      His brows furrowed in worry and took a closer look at your well-being. “It’s nothing. I’m just glad I don’t have to practice anymore, it really tired me out. Ugh…” You grumbled and rested your hand on your stomach when you felt it rumbled.

           “Do you want to eat outside?” Your ears perked up and nodded eagerly like a child. For a second, you thought you saw him smile before it quickly disappeared. He offered his hand to you which you gladly accepted as he lead you to the exit of the room.

           “Kazuha’s treating me~” You sang joyfully, thinking of the foods from the stalls. Or maybe he’ll treat you to eat at a restaurant? Just thinking of it made your stomach growled even more from hungriness and excitement, imagining that freshly cooked takoyakis or even those crispy golden-brown tempuras.

           Even with all the smiles and laugh you give off, he can’t help but be bothered that you’re hiding something. You always shake off whenever he asks if you’re fine or if you needed anything.

           He wished that you could rely on him and trust him, to tell him all the troubles that have been piling up inside you. He has known you for a long time now, and yet why can’t you open up to him some more?

           If maybe, just maybe— one day he’ll be able to finally tell you how he feels. He’ll even go as far as looking for you if you escaped once more. He hopes you’ll notice the signs he’s been giving that he’s there for you and you don’t have to bottle it up.

           He wants to tell you that it’s alright to cry and feel vulnerable. He’ll love everything about you, even your own imperfections.

           Just the way you accepted and love everything about himself.

did i just write for an unreleased genshin chara? yes, yes i did, and im ready to simp for him

[devildomimagines]

Part 2 Remix

Ok, listen. First, I’m going to need you to go read this *chef’s kiss* of a post if you haven’t already. The Brothers and Undateables at one of Diavolo’s balls when a Noble starts talking down on MC by @arcadejohn127-9. There is now a part 2 for the ending (and it has been up for a while haha)!

Somewhere after the first post was published but before we had the ending, I started writing my own twist on the ending because I was so inspired and because I needed the comfort from the hurt/comfort lol. I’ve finally gotten around to finishing it and I wanted to share. You will see why it took me so long as some of these parts really ran away from me. The younger brothers and the Undateables are under the cut to save everyone’s dash. 😂

Lucifer

For a second he was torn, making that Noble pay or chase after you.

The choice was obvious, you came first.

As he made his way through the crowd, Diavolo caught his eye. 

With a few quick gestures, Lucifer had communicated he was going after you. Diavolo nodded, making his way to the Noble to take care of that side of it.

The crowd opened up enough for Lucifer to see the door to the butler’s pantry close.

He had to catch up to you before you met up with Barbatos. 

His worst fear right now is that you would take advantage of Barbatos’ power and have the timeline altered to where you never came to Devildom and never met him.

Once he was close enough he used a blast of magic to open the door and rushed into the room.

You had been wiping your tears but with the door bursting open, you jumped and scowled at who was entering. Realizing it was Lucifer, your face softened but looked away.

“You’re still here,” Lucifer held a hand on his chest, allowing himself a moment of relief.

“Well it’s not like I can teleport or fly. I’m just a human.”

The way you talked down about yourself made Lucifer’s own heart drop, your pact physically affecting him, your pride was at the lowest he had ever felt. 

As the Avatar of Pride, he wouldn’t stand for it. “You’re not just a human, MC. You’re unbelievably important.”

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah, because I’m Lilith’s descendant and a part of the exchange program.”

“No, you’re important because you bring kindness and joy into everything you do. You’re important because you’ve become the anchor I’ve been trying to be for my family for centuries. You’re important because you truly try to make a meaningful difference even when it’s difficult.” Lucifer moved in front of you, gently tilting your chin up to meet his gaze, “You’re important because I love you.”

Mammon

When he recovered from the shock, he looked around.

The first brother he saw was Levi. He marched over and ordered him to deal with the Noble.

Next he moved in the direction you had stormed off in. He finally caught up to you at the coat check.

You noticed him and looked away pretending you didn’t.

“MC! You going home? I’ll go with,” he dug out his own coat ticket and handed it over to the coat checker.

“You really don’t have to.”

“Don’t be stupid, I’m going where you go,” He moved to sling an arm around your shoulder like he normally does but you shrugged out of his reach. That hurt.

“Well maybe I am stupid! Just a big dumb human who doesn’t realize they’re being used.” You hugged yourself to try to self-soothe.

It took a few moments for Mammon to register all of your words, “What? Who’s using you? Was it that Noble??” He scowled back at the ballroom.

“No, forget it.” You started walking to the exit.

He growled as he grabbed his coat and jogged to catch up to you.

You heard the rushed footsteps and paused more out of habit than anything else. “Mammon, stop.”

He had made it right behind you before he was forced to stop, the pact binding him in place. That didn’t stop his mouth though, “MC, whatever that Noble said to you, it’s a lie!”

“You don’t know what he said,” you replied coldly, “He said that I’m being used, by you and your brothers, by Diavolo, he said that none of you ever really cared about me, I was just a replacement for Lilith.” Repeating the words made them worse, it had you shaking as the sobs started to rattle your body.

“MC,” Mammon whined your name, clearly trying to force his body to move, “drop the spell,” you shook your head no so he begged, “Please MC.”

His desperation softened your resolve for a moment long enough to release the hold you had on him.

Mammon immediately turned you to face him, your tears broke him and he started tearing up. He pulled you into his chest and started, “We never thought of it that way. I was so relieved that Lilith got to lead a fulfilling life where she didn’t have to suffer turning into a demon. You were the result of her happy life that it made me so happy, unbelievably happy. But I liked you before we knew all of that, I was the first of my brothers to see how great you are.” He placed a soft kiss on your forehead, “MC, I love you so much. Please don’t doubt that.”

Leviathan

“Ouch,” he thought as he looked around. The first of his brother’s he found was Beel, his height and orange hair made him stick out. He was also in the most likely place to find him, in front of a table of food.

Levi maneuvered around party guests and tapped at Beel’s shoulder. Very quickly he explained the situation, Beel nodded with a piece of meat hanging out of his mouth and started muscling his way through the dance floor.

Next was to face you. He was nervous, had he done something he wasn’t aware of? Did the Noble point out his inferiority and MC was disgusted to have a pact with him?

He got to the bathroom and hesitated. He could hear your soft cries muffled behind the door. All nervousness left him as he knocked and called out to you, “MC?”

The cries stopped and you answered, “Go away.”

“No,” Where was this confidence coming from, he wondered as he added, “I’m here for you, please let me help you.”

“You can’t help me, you’re part of the problem.”

All of the confidence he just had was shattered. “MC… I’m sorry. If it was something I did, or didn’t do, please tell me. You know I don’t know how to handle these situations but I would never try to hurt you.”

The door swung open and Levi jumped. 

“And why is that Levi?” Your tear stained face stared him down.

“Because I c-care about you?” He was confused why you were angry at him now.

“Because I’m a replacement for Lilith?”

“No way!” Now it was his turn to be angry.

A bit of the venom was removed as you asked, “Because I’m a dumb normie human?”

“Well…” He started to joke but when you pouted he took it back, “of course not.”

“Then why?” You sniffled.

Levi looked around, you two were in a pretty secluded area. He took a deep breath and braced himself so he wouldn’t lose his nerve. “I wouldn’t hurt you because we’re a team! My player 2, my Henry, my friend! When I agreed to form a pact with you, it was because you opened my eyes to how valuable it would be to let people into my world. At that time, I had no idea about Lilith, Lucifer kept us in the dark and I chose not to seek out the light. Then you came into my life and you were so bright it hurt my eyes.” He was rambling, “Anyway, you might be a normie human but you’re my normie human! Whatever that Noble said to make you question that, it isn’t true.”

After a beat, you jumped into his arms. His heart was absolutely pounding as he wrapped you in his arms, he knew you’d hear it but he was relieved he somehow said the right thing.

Satan

He knew it was the Noble that caused your mood shift.

You retreated through a door, Satan didn’t have time to make the Noble suffer in the ways he was already imagining. 

As he headed for the door himself, he bumped into Lucifer.

It was grinding on his nerves but for your sake he asked Lucifer to take care of the Noble.

Without question, Lucifer whisked off to take care of it. He probably knew it was important since Satan would never ask anything of Lucifer if it wasn’t necessary.

Satan picked up the pace to get to the door and catch you.

He looked down both sides of the connecting hall and found you leaning against the wall facing away from where you had come from.

As he approached he realized your shoulders were shaking. It broke his heart.

When he placed a hand on your arm, you jumped out of your skin and stepped away. 

You relaxed seeing it was Satan and not someone else but making eye contact with him hurt, “Leave me alone, I just need a moment.”

You had turned to leave but he wasn’t letting you go again. He regripped your arm.

“Don’t go.”

“Satan…” You sighed trying to bring back some of your usual strength.

“Whatever that Noble said…” A thought dawned on him mid-sentence, “Did he do something to you?” The wrath in him bristled anew.

“He didn’t do anything besides point out some things.” You laughed weakly, “Actually he made some good points I should have seen for myself a long time ago.”

“What points did he make?” Satan asked.

You looked down the hall, debating an escape, “That I was just a pawn to Diavolo’s plans and a replacement for Lilith.”

“That’s not true,” Satan defended.

His tone of finality made you look back at him. He took the opportunity to explain.

“You’re no one’s pawn. You always had and will always have your free will to do as you want. Just as you’ve shown me that I’m my own being,” he held a hand to his chest, “You are your own person.”

You scoffed, “and being related to Lilith-”

“Doesn’t matter to me,” Satan interrupted and finished the sentence. “I’ve heard all the stories from my brothers but I never met her. I met you though,” His hand moved down your arm to your hand.

Automatically you gave his hand a squeeze just falling into habit and he smiled.

“It doesn’t matter how you got here,” Satan started, hoping you would complete the quote from a book you both read.

Quietly you added, “All that matters is you’re here now.”

He pulled you into his arms and you let him engulf you in a warm embrace. It was so different from the sharp, cold feeling you got from the Noble that it felt like home to be here with him.

“I’ll always be here for you MC,” he whispered and you believed him.

Asmodeus

Well clearly something was wrong, you never pulled back from him like that.

He first looked around for some assistance. Things had been fine before your dance with the Noble so something happened in relation to that dance.

The first person he spotted was Satan. Asmo waved him over to the table. Satan nodded and departed from the company he had been talking to. Asmo quickly described the situation in a pretty grim light knowing exactly what would flip the wrath switch in Satan.

The blond demon stalked off after his newly provided prey.

Asmo checked his appearance in a pocket mirror before setting after you. It wasn’t like he had something on his face or a hair out of place that drove you off but he had to be sure.

He found you looking out over the Devildom with the most somber look on your face.

“MC~ You look absolutely stunning under the Devildom moon.”

You sighed. 

That wasn’t the reaction Asmo was aiming for. “Won’t you tell me what’s wrong, love?”

“It’s nothing,” you tried to smile but it didn’t light up your face like he knew it could.

“Ok,” Asmo put up his hands. He could take a hint, you didn’t want to talk about it and he wasn’t going to push and make it worse. “Let’s go home then?”

“I know you don’t want to leave. You’ve been looking forward to this all month,” You looked back out at the cityscape.

“Well I don’t want to be here if you’re not having fun,” Asmo snaked an arm around your waist and looked out across the city himself.

He felt you stiffen under his touch and he tried very hard not to pout outwardly but you rejecting him really hurt.

He said he wasn’t going to push but he had to know, “Did the Noble say something unacceptable to you?”

“No, if anything it was too acceptable, factual even.” You leaned away from him and against the railing as your face soured further.

“What did he say?”

“That I’m being used,” you looked at him to see how he reacted to the second part, “by Diavolo and your family.”

His brow furrowed and you knew it was genuine emotion since he would never risk the wrinkles otherwise.

“No, no, no, no, no!” Asmo shook his head, “That’s absolutely not what’s happening.”

“It’s fine,” you shrugged, “we all have our part to play.”

“MC,” Asmo took your shoulders and stared you down, “You are not just some pawn, you’re a very important human to me and my family!”

You looked to the side, “Only because I’m related to Lilith.”

“No? We love you for you!”

You blushed at his blunt honesty, “Oh.”

“Did you think that we didn’t care about you before we learned that you were distantly related?”

“No!” You defended, “But when he was laying out all the info, it did kind of seem like that.”

“Who are you going to trust? Some random or me?” Asmo batted his eyes at you.

After a moment you conceded, “You, of course.”

You both giggled and he whisked you to the dance floor to show you the best night of your life.

Beelzebub

“Wait MC-” Beel jumped up from table, his knees knocked it and it wobbled as he pushed his chair back.

“You couldn’t just leave like that,” he thought, “I can’t lose another…”

He found you on the front balcony. From what he could guess, you paused to take in the fresh air but then watched as you steeled yourself and briskly started your way down the stairs.

“MC,” he caught up easily even in his formalwear, “Let me at least walk you back to the dorm.”

You hesitated, not making eye contact with him, you shrugged, “fine.”

The two of you walked in silence. Beel had no idea what to say to make you stay. He cursed himself that words didn’t come as easily to him like Asmo or Mammon, he couldn’t relate it to something he read or watched like Satan or Levi usually did and he couldn’t think of the perfect solution like he knew Lucifer would.

He was the only thing standing between you and the metaphorical exit and he had to do something. 

So he did the only thing he could think of and apologized. “I’m sorry.”

It made you stop, “What?”

“I’m sorry. If it was something I said or did or ate, I’m sorry. If it was one of my brothers then I’m also sorry. Whatever it was, I’m sorry.” Tears pricked in the corners of his eyes. He wasn’t usually one to cry but he was so frustrated and felt so helpless. If this wasn’t what you wanted then you’d be gone.

“No,” you sighed, “I’m sorry, I took out my frustration on you. I’m not mad at you or your brothers. If anything, I’m mad at myself,” you laughed dryly.

“Yourself?” Beel repeated, trying to figure out how he could help you with that.

“Yeah, I should have seen it for myself but that Noble was right,” you continued onwards to HOL.

“Right about what?”

You finally looked at him and it crushed him to see the saddest smile on your face as you answered, “That I’m just some kind of replacement for Lilith. I thought you all really cared about me but your behavior did change after everyone learned I was related to her.”

Beel was frozen in shock. He watched you pick up walking home again.

“That’s not-” he started but you raised a hand to stop him.

“I get it, you guys were so happy that she lived that you wanted to show it in some way,” this time when you turned toward him you couldn’t keep the tears from falling, “and in a way I’m grateful because if I wasn’t her descendant then I wouldn’t be here, I wouldn’t have met you all, and I wouldn’t have been a part of a family like yours. But I’m selfish and I wanted you to love me for who I am.”

He was finally unfrozen and wrapped you in a near-bone-crushing hug. “We do!” Beel confirmed, “We love you, MC!” He began crying, “I love you, please don’t leave.”

Enclosed in his arms, you felt his earnest emotions flood into you, “I believe you,” you wiped his tears, “Thank you for loving me.”

Belphegor

He knew it, that Noble was bad news.

Belphie looked around and easily found Asmo in the middle. He pushed past his fans and told Asmo what happened. Asmo left to take care of the Noble.

Belphie caught up with you in your room back at the HOL.

He had followed the noise and found you were angrily packing a bag, in between wiping your face.

“What’re you doing?” Belphie asked from the door.

The sudden voice made you jump, “Leaving.”

“Why?”

You paused, wringing the shirt in your hand, “We’d all be better off.”

“Because you’re a replacement?” Belphie threw your words back at you but realized his mistake too late.

When you shuddered and fell to your knees crying he wanted to disappear. How could he be so tactless?

“Yes! I’m not Lilith!” You cry-yelled at him. “I wanted so badly to be a part of your family. I did everything for you and your brothers to make amends, to prove myself and my intentions and it didn’t matter! The second you all learned about my lineage, it all changed.” 

You sniffled and added, “You hated me for being a human, I’d almost prefer that if that is honestly how you feel about me.”

Ouch. But he deserved that, “I don’t hate you,” he knelt in front of you.

“I’m just a stupid human,” he grabbed your arms and pulled you into him as you sobbed, “I don’t want to be used as a pawn, and I’m not a replacement for your sister.”

“I know, MC,” Belphie soothed, “You’re not a pawn and we know you aren’t a replacement for Lilith.”

“B-but,” you blubbered.

“No buts,” there was an edge to his voice, that he wasn’t going to take any rebuttals. “Without you, we wouldn’t have been able to move forward as a family. We’d be worse off without you in our lives.”

You shifted back a bit to look at him, “Really?”

“Really,” Belphie verified. “Don’t go,” his voice caught in his throat, his own emotions finally hitting him. What would he do without you?

You grabbed his face, assessing for yourself. “Ok…ok.” You relaxed in his hold and finally felt secure in how he felt about you.

Diavolo

You ducked into the kitchen.

He tried to follow but got stopped by a high ranking demon that he could not brush off. He was trapped, that is until Barbatos caught his gaze.

The butler swooped in, distracted the demon with appetizers and began leading them away.

Ever grateful, Diavolo smiled and then another thought hit him. He stopped Barbatos and whispered in his ear what happened between you and the Noble. Barbatos nodded and made his way to find and complete his new task.

Diavolo jumped into the kitchen before anyone else could stop him.

“MC?” he looked around and found you sitting on the counter with your head in your hands. His heart dropped.

You sniffled, “Go back to your party.”

“I don’t feel like it.” he mused.

“What a spoiled prince,” you replied.

He felt hopeful, if you were joking then surely you would recover. “Won’t you tell me what happened?”

When you tensed, he stopped inching closer.

“It doesn’t matter. I don’t matter.” 

“That’s not true,” Diavolo tried to take your hands but you fought him slightly, still trying to cover your face. When you finally relented and looked at him with tear stains on your face, he swore he never felt a greater rush of love and the need to protect like he did in that moment, “You’re so important to me.” 

“Because I’m an exchange student?” You searched his face for any reaction.

“What?” He was actually dumbfounded. “You think that’s the only reason I care for you?”

“What other reason could there be? Isn’t that the whole point of why I was here in the first place?”

He paused to gather his thoughts. There were so many reasons to love you and the fact that you could be undone like this from one conversation proves that Diavolo was failing you. Still holding your hands, he raised one to kiss your knuckles. “I’ll admit that at first, my goal to build bridges between the realms was my focus, but as the program went on, I found myself looking forward to our meetings. Much to Barbatos’ chagrin, I would sneak out to steal a few moments with you and they meant everything to me.”

You had begun rubbing his hand with your thumb, tears were gone but you still looked sad.

He rested his forehead against yours, “I can’t imagine what my life would have been like if I didn’t meet you. You’ve brought a joy and sense of adventure into my life that I wouldn’t trade for anything.”

“Thanks Dia,” When you smiled softly, he could swear his heart was melting into a puddle. “I’m sorry if I ruined your night.”

“Nonsense!” Diavolo laughed and backed up to help you off the counter, “The night’s still young and I think I owe you a dance.”

You squeezed his hand, “Wait, I probably look terrible from crying!”

The kitchen door swung open to Barbatos trying to hold back Asmo. Asmo chirped, “We can help with that!”

Diavolo laughed at the sight. Barbatos sighed and released Asmo as he whipped out his travel make-up kit and busied himself with you.

Barbatos stood next to Diavolo and in a hushed tone affirmed, “The target has been captured.”

A dark look passed over Diavolo’s face as he responded, “Good. We’ll deal with him in the morning.”

Barbatos

He wanted to chase after you but his duty was of course to Diavolo and the ball at hand.

Within a few moments, he reasoned that the ball was in danger of being compromised if you weren’t there and the Noble was allowed to roam free of consequence.

Barbatos wasn’t one to ask for help but he knew that if he mentioned the Noble’s actions to Lucifer, the demon would take matters into his own hands to deal with it and Lucifer did so.

That left him to track you down. He had a feeling of where he’d find you.

Out in the garden, seated on the bench, you were fidgeting with his handkerchief.

Careful to make noise as he approached you so as to not spook you with his usually silent steps, Barbatos sat on the other end of the bench.

He caught you peeking at him so he tried not to look directly at you, knowing it would make you feel uncomfortable.

“Thank you for this,” you held out his handkerchief.

“Any time,” he accepted it and even through his gloves, he could feel the dampness. Had he left you alone for too long to have cried this much? Very slowly he folded the cloth and put it in his pocket.

“Also I’m sorry for my behavior before.” You shifted and began to explain, “I was confused and hurt, that Noble… actually nevermind.”

“There’s no need to apologize to me, though I am sorry for the distress you’ve gone through.”

Still bothered, you had to ask, “Why do you tolerate me?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you only nice to me because you’re under orders to be?”

He couldn’t lie, “Lord Diavolo has directed me to be of use to the exchange students, but I’ve come to genuinely appreciate your company, if that isn’t too presumptuous.”

You peeked over again and could see a light blush on the butler’s cheeks, he wasn’t looking at you now out of embarrassment.

That earned a small smile, “It’s not, I’m grateful to hear your true feelings.” You paused thinking on what the Noble said, “Do you think the others feel the same? That they actually like me, not as some replacement for Lilith or as a tool to be used?”

Ah so that’s the idea that the Noble had planted, he rubbed his chin in thought. “While I can’t speak for the brothers, I can conclude that you mean much more to Lord Diavolo than he’d like to admit. He has never spoken ill of you in my presence. Even Lucifer, who has often verbalized his distaste for his brothers’ shenanigans, has never voiced the same of you even if you were involved in said shenanigans.”

“Well that’s something.”

“It certainly is,” He confirmed.

You giggled and it was like Barbatos was hearing his favorite song for the first time. 

After a beat, he stood, brushed himself off more out of habit than any actual dirt accumulation and faced you. You looked slightly surprised. He bowed and offered his arm, “Shall we head back in?”

Hesitantly, you took his hand, “Can I stay with you?”

“If that is what you desire,” Barbatos smiled and led your hand to hold his arm, “How could I deny a direct request like that?”

Solomon

He was stunned for a minute. Had you meant him and you weren’t on the same page or the humans and the demons weren’t on the same page?

Solomon was pretty sure that the pacts were a clear indicator of a human and a demon being on the same page.

This was the perfect opportunity to take advantage of one of his new pacts, he sent the demon to gather as much information, good and bad, that they could dig up about the Noble that had danced with you.

If knowledge was power then he wanted as much knowledge on his side as he could get before making a move.

That left him free to follow you. He caught the sight of you as you left into an adjoining hallway.

Shuffling through the crowd he broke free and got himself through the door. He looked both ways and found you at the end, turning the corner.

Although not one for running, he jogged down the hall to catch up with you.

You had turned to watch for the approaching noise and at the sight of your watery eyes he skidded to a stop.

Solomon couldn’t remember a time when he had seen you cry, not like this, where your whole being seemed depleted.

“MC…”

“I’m fine,” you wiped the tears away quickly, “I was dumb for thinking that any of this meant something to them, that’s on me.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The exchange program, the demons, everything here was just all part of Diavolo’s plan and I played right into it.” Bitterly you added, “I was a pawn and I couldn’t even see it.”

“That’s not true,” Solomon rebuked. “I’m sure they did not count on you making pacts with the 7 demon brothers. They are extremely high ranking, that wasn’t an easy feat.”

“They’re not any better, they probably only did so because I was some sort of replacement for Lilith.”

“Lilith… oh yes the fallen angel that almost did not survive.” He nodded as he remembered, “Is that what they said when they made the pact with you?”

“Well not exactly…” you admitted.

“I see,” he took your hand and pulled you to a nearby bench, “I happen to know a bit about pacts.”

You rolled your eyes but he took it as a good sign, “And when entering the pact, usually one or both parties admit their reason behind entering the contract. Usually it’s the human asking for something only that demon can offer like money, power or influence, but that wasn’t the case for you was it?”

“No.”

“What was it that they were looking for from you?”

You didn’t answer for a while, thinking back on each of the pacts being forged. “If I had to sum it up for all of them, love or acceptance.”

Huh, that was pretty straightforward, Solomon wondered why he hadn’t thought of that. “That seems like something only you could have given them, I doubt they would want the same from me.”

You laughed, “I wouldn’t say that, Asmo really loves you, he always talks about you.”

Solomon groaned for effect but you both knew he cherished the bond with the demon.

“You were never their pawn, they chose to offer the pact and you chose to accept, that was not something orchestrated by someone else.”

Finally, you nodded, seeing his perspective. “You’re right.”

“Of course I’m right,” he joked.

With a light punch of his arm, you both made your way back to the party. Solomon planned on showing you a magical night.

Simeon

The walk back to Purgatory Hall was quick, too quick for Simeon to figure out what happened.

He’d seen you dancing but not who with, also why had you been in such a hurry to get away from the brothers? He thought things were going well with them.

“I’ll put on some tea, ok?” Simeon offered as you two entered the front door.

You nodded and sat at the table.

“Simeon~” Luke called, “You’re back early!” The cherub entered the room and saw you from behind, “And MC!? What a treat!”

Luke came up to your side and caught your sad expression before you could turn away. “What happened?” He shot an accusatory glare at Simeon.

Simeon looked shocked, Luke thought you were upset because of him?

“It’s nothing Luke,” you replied softly, “you were right, I shouldn’t have trusted demons.”

The two angels looked at each other shocked, neither had expected that. “Well of course!” Luke defended, “What did they do?”

You sighed, you didn’t see a way to brush them both off so you recanted the dance with the noble, the things he knew about you and the ideas he had brought to your attention.

Luke chomped down on a cookie, “Well he’s not wrong about Diavolo’s plan.”

“Luke,” Simeon admonished, “I’ve known Diavolo for a long time, he’s not one to use others for personal gain, even if he is a demon. He’s always preferred to do things his own way.”

“And those brothers?” Luke asked. You looked at Simeon expectantly, your face repeating the question, ‘And those brothers?’

“I’ve known them for a long time too. Of course they adored their sister Lilith, we all did. But no one could serve as her replacement because she was irreplaceable.” Simeon allowed that thought a moment to sink in. “I think that you've made your own bonds with them, different and separate from your ancestral lineage.”

“I suppose…” You conceded.

“Why do you even put up with them MC?” Luke offered.

Now you had to laugh, “For a while I thought they were the ones putting up with me.”

“No way!” 

“Yes way,” you smiled at him as you sipped your tea. “I think you forget sometimes that you’re all powerful beings and I am not.”

Luke blushed, “You’re powerful, in your own way!”

“Thank you,” you put your hand on his cheek and he smiled. 

You looked over at Simeon, “Can I spend the night here?” 

Although he still sensed some sadness from you, it certainly was not the same level as he had felt when he bumped into you before.

“Yes!” Luke answered first, “Please Simeon!”

With the two of you giving him pouty looks, “How can I say no?”

“Yay!” Luke cheered and ran from the room, “Sleep over!”

“It’s alright if you’d rather not entertain Luke all night,” You offered, “I can go back to the HOL, I don’t want to impose.”

“You’re not getting out of this that easy,” Simeon teased, “He probably has six movies lined up already and he has been practicing making pillow forts in his room.”

You both laughed, “I appreciate you listening Simeon, I’m glad I have a guardian angel like you,” you winked as you joined Luke on the floor. He did already have a stack of movies to watch.

Simeon blushed and then shook his head to clear his thoughts as he joined the blanket pile.

[ev-pierce-writes]

Quantum Entanglement

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

Words: 6.4k (oops)

Rating: 18+ (get outta here ya children)

Summary: Steve Rogers decides to disappear, take some time for himself in the solitude of a small town where he meets you.

Warnings: p in v. oral fem receiving. size kink (reader is much smaller than Steve in more ways than one). soft (very very soft) fem dom.

AN: This is stupid soft. Just simping all over the gd place. I'm so sorry but my baby Steve deserves nothing but the purest, sweetest form of love and that's what he's getting, though I imagine he likes to be ordered around. Took me way too long to feel good about this.

---

There had been the snap. And then the resurrection. Steve had lost everyone he loved and then had most of them returned, and it felt good to go back to normal, in some ways. In other ways, it was stifling.

As the world reeled and tried to figure out how to "be normal" in a time that was anything but, normalcy felt forced, rushed, exaggerated. He wanted to be in this world, of course. The 1940s were no longer his home, and Steve had everything he wanted here. But he didn't feel complete. A piece was always missing, something from a past life, that he couldn't quite name but knew he had to find.

So he disappeared. Went undercover as some might call it. Bucky knew, of course, and Sam on some level. But to the rest of the world, he had slipped quietly back into the past to live the rest of his life. In reality, he'd slipped into Herrington, Massachusetts, a small coastal town where he was invisible to the world.

He'd found a little house, a cottage on the beach, and settled in completely. He didn't need a job, the government was more than willing to pay him a severance check of some sort, but he took one anyway, stocking the local grocery store and delivering groceries to the elderly when they ordered. It was just antiquated enough to remind him of a faraway time, of the past, but didn't force him to give up his wifi and color television. That was something he'd come to love.

And that was where he met you. You, the petite spitfire with a bone to pick with the entire world. Fierce, loyal, and slightly terrifying when double-crossed. The first time he met you, you had come out of your great-aunt's house shaking a fist over the groceries.

"I told Mr. Pierce," you were yelling, "not to skimp me on the meat." Mr. Pierce was the grocery store owner. And the meat in question was a roast, for what purpose, Steve wasn't sure, but one that apparently did not satisfy your desires.

You hadn't been the one to answer the door, that was your great-aunt Agnes, a kind, leather-faced woman who liked to tip Steve a healthy amount for "carrying all those heavy groceries for a silly old lady like me."

"It's no problem ma'am," he'd replied and stepped back toward his motorcycle, recently decked out with a basket on the back to transport deliveries. Then you'd chased him down the road until he noticed you and stopped, shouting all the way.

"When you see him," you said, your finger wagging in his face, puffing and out of breath from your yelling and running, "tell the bastard that's the last time he gets away with making me pay for his shitty cuts of meat."

Steve didn't really know what to say, but then your face softened, your voice calmed, and you took a deep breath. Maybe the panicked look on his face had made you have a change of heart. "I apologize for yelling at you, I know you're just the messenger. But that slimy son-of-a-bitch is going to get what's coming for him someday."

"I'll let him know," Steve replied with half a smile on his face.

"You aren't from around here are you?" you had asked, a sudden look of curiosity in your bright eyes.

Steve nodded. "Just moved here."

"Look, I'm really sorry." You stuck out your hand and introduced yourself, and Steve had found that hand to be surprisingly supple and calloused for its tiny size. "Let me make it up to you. Aunt Agnes seems to like you. We're having a potluck tonight, her place. Why don't you come by and meet the neighbors? I'm sure they'd love a new face, especially one as handsome and friendly as yours. Maybe make some friends, even."

You were being surprisingly friendly and sincere, and Steve had no choice but to accept the invitation.

So that's how he ended up in an old lady's backyard, handing off a bowl of his mother's jello salad (it was a potluck after all), and accepting a beer from a man who looked similar enough to be your brother (a cousin, it turned out). You didn't even notice his arrival, flying about, getting everything set up, taking part in the appropriate amount of small talk. Earlier, when you'd chased Steve down the road, your hair had been flung all about your head, wisps of it sticking out from all directions and looking positively a mess. You'd been wearing jeans with mud on the knees and a t-shirt that had more holes than necessary for your arms and head. Now, your hair was pinned back and tamed and you floated about in a soft blue sundress, revealing a delicate plane of skin across your shoulders and tan arms and legs.

The calloused hands and muddy jeans made sense now as well. The backyard of Aunt Agnes' house was primarily a garden, not only beautiful rose bushes and creeping wisteria but rows and rows of fruits and vegetables, cucumbers, tomatoes, watermelon, strawberries. The work was obviously the product of a talented gardener.

Aunt Agnes was the one to welcome him in, having noticed Steve before you did and taking his arm. She began to talk, of you and the neighborhood and her many, many family members. She introduced them one by one, though most of the names he immediately forgot. But it was a blessing to not be recognized and he relished the feeling. Sure, he'd grown out his beard and his hair was a bit longer than the standard military high and tight, and he wore a flannel with the sleeves rolled up instead of red, white, and blue spangles, but it still amazed him that he could pass through the world like this.

Eventually, the conversations became too much, and Steve excused himself to the kitchen to find a drink while he waited for the food to be ready. Really he just wanted some silence, a relief from society. But you'd beat him there, and, ever the busy bee, were scrambling to fill a cooler with more ice.

"Steve!" you exclaimed when you saw him, pleasant surprise plastered across your face. "I'm so glad you came."

You reached out and gave him a hug that took Steve so much by surprise he almost forgot to return it. It was shockingly warm, your arms around his neck, and though he had to stoop down to your level, he wrapped his arms around your waist anyways.

"I hope they didn't overwhelm you out there. My family can be a lot."

"No, not at all. Just needed some quiet. I'll let you get back to work."

"I could actually use your help if you don't mind."

You directed him into the front room toward a stack of boxes, cases of drinks he assumed. When Steve returned to the kitchen, all four boxes piled in his arms, you nearly dropped the glasses in your hands in shock. You recovered quickly, trying to remain polite despite your poorly hidden astonishment, but Steve could already tell you were trying to compute how he had managed to carry over a hundred pounds of drinks in one go.

"You can, um, put them on the counter I guess," you managed to stutter out. Your sudden flustered state was amusing, and Steve noticed he liked the way you seemed almost embarrassed, cheeks flushed pink, though he had no idea why you should feel that way.

But then you picked back up with your normal bubbly chatter, and Steve found himself lingering longer and longer in the kitchen with you until he realized neither of you were doing anything but talking, the work abandoned in lieu of discussions about the town, your stall at the farmers market, and eventually, very naturally, the passing of your parents. The slip into deep conversation was easy, surprisingly easy, easier than it had ever been with anyone else, even though Steve felt himself having to lie a bit about his past. Sure, he could admit to being from Brooklyn and having no family and his stint in the military, but that was about the extent of it. He found himself wanting to tell you more but refraining.

When your cousin called that food was ready from the backyard, the jolt back to reality was abrupt and almost unwelcome, until you smiled and allowed him to put a hand on your back, pulling Steve out to enjoy some food.

As night fell, lights twinkled on in the backyard, and the summer heat reduced to a light thrum as the breeze from the ocean swept through the town. Fireflies glowed in the darkness of the low trees behind the house and you seemed to glow as well, good food and friendly conversation lighting your face up with joy. You caught Steve's eye several times during the night, noticing him watching you from across the garden, but he didn't care. He liked that his attention made you smile.

Finally, the party began to dwindle, as parents with young kids trickled out, followed by the older folks, heading off to bed. Soon, even Aunt Agnes turned in and only the cousins close to you in age remained. They pulled out the stronger bottles of alcohol, sitting in plastic chairs and passing shots around the barbeque that still glowed hot with coals. Steve accepted every pass of vodka that came his way, despite knowing it wouldn't get him even remotely drunk. But the camaraderie of the moment helped ease a bit of that gaping hole in his soul so he clung to it as best he could. And you were sitting next to him, insisting he take a sip, and again he couldn't turn you down.

"And then Jack nearly sunk the boat in the bay," you were saying, telling the story of one of your cousin's finer moments. "Your dad almost killed us."

"Oh you want to bring that up?" he teased. "How about the time you snuck out and Aunt Agnes caught you making out with Michael on the beach."

You blushed bright red at the reminder but protested that was years ago. Then another cousin brought up his own late-night escapades and you devolved into a fit of giggles, leaning so far out of your chair that Steve had to catch you before you slipped right to the ground. Your hand gripped his to recover but, to his surprise, you never removed it, even as you righted yourself in your seat. Your hand just remained in his, your small fingers wrapped in his large ones, as you turned to pester him into telling a story.

"What about you Steve? Tell us an embarrassing story."

He looked around at the group and they leaned in expectantly, curious to know more about the stranger who was quickly becoming a friend. Steve didn't know what to say, most of his stories involving things he wasn't yet ready to reveal about himself. So he picked one from long ago.

"I once picked a fight with a guy at a bar. He was a bit of a Nazi. Got my ass kicked. Fortunately, I had a friend to back me up or he definitely would have killed me."

Everyone looked shocked. "But you're so strong," someone spoke up. "Look at you. How could anyone beat you in a fight?"

Steve shrugged, not wanting to admit to it being a pre-serum story. "Guess I'm a bit of a pacifist."

He turned to you to gauge your reaction. Your eyes were wide, sparkling with mischief and curiosity and a hint of disbelief. For a moment Steve thought you had figured it out, figured out who he was, but then you started giggling again and the only thing keeping you in your seat was his hand in yours.

"That's not embarrassing Steve, that's just the most fucking noble thing I've ever heard. Making us all look bad."

Your teasing words made his heart flutter in his chest and he felt like he could get used to this crowd.

Eventually, the coals of the barbeque started to wink out, and the cousins excused themselves for the night, heading home on foot to the various houses they had come from. It seemed no one lived too far apart in this town. Suddenly, the backyard was quiet.

"Can I give you a hand cleaning up?" Steve asked, not wanting to leave you with the job that looked a bit overwhelming to him.

You looked around and shrugged, a little tipsy but fully aware that it was a big mess. "I'll probably just take care of it in the morning. Can you just help me get the dishes inside?"

Steve obediently gathered up plates and cups, filling the dishwasher in several trips. Finally, the last were inside and you stood in the kitchen filling the sink to wash the pots and pans while Steve tried awkwardly to find a way to say goodbye.

"Um, thank you," he said at last, "for welcoming me into your community. It means a lot. I'll, uh, see you later I guess. Have a good night."

You stopped your scrubbing to look up at him, bubbles up to your elbows, your face flushed from the warm night air and the alcohol.

"Steve?"

"Yeah?"

You paused, hesitant, eyes searching his face for confirmation of a mutual feeling. "Do you ever feel like you were meant to meet someone? For a reason?"

The question hit him like a ton of bricks, and he realized that this night had made him feel exactly that way, that somehow he was meant to end up here and meet you, of all people. Why else had there been an instant connection unless this was just the way you were with everyone?

But your question made him think otherwise. You had to be special. Steve, in that moment, could do nothing but nod in affirmation. And then, like you had both had the same thought at the same moment, you were meeting him halfway, rising on your tiptoes, wrapping your arms around his neck, and kissing him. Really, truly, kissing him.

It was like that missing piece had found itself. You slotted your soul into his and Steve was pressing you to his chest, wrapping his arms around you, and lifting you so he didn't have to bend down to reach you. Your wet hands tangled into his slightly too long hair, pulling him impossibly closer, tasting one another's tongues.

And that was the start of it, of late-night motorcycle rides down the causeway, of Saturdays spent on the beach that tapered into drinks with friends, of dinners filled with your chatter and smiles and laughter, and Steve couldn't believe how lucky he was. He was not used to this feeling, of building friendship and companionship and perhaps even love. And he certainly wasn't used to the intense desire to reach out and pinch your ass every time you showed up at his house wearing those gardening jeans, high-waisted and tight and so goddamn cute.

But he never did, was never sure how you'd react. You kissed him, a lot in fact, every morning that he came over and every night that he dropped you off at home. And you never shied away from telling him how handsome he was, how much you liked his hands and his arms and his short beard, how sweet he was and kind and soft and gentle. So many words, words that made his head spin and his world wobble and sway. But it never came to be more than that, never late at night when he was thinking of you most. And oh lord, did he think about you, how your small frame might fit against his in bed while you spooned and slept, or how tight you'd be if he fucked you until the sun rose. He didn't particularly like sleeping in bed, it was too soft for his taste and he tended to take the couch or even the floor most nights, but he would sleep in bed for you if you would just tell him that was what you wanted.

It was like you were waiting for the right moment. And apparently, that moment was July 4th, during the annual celebration. Steve had whispered to you that it was consequently also his birthday, and had begged you to keep that a secret, but it seemed you had simply forgotten the fact entirely. The day passed without mention that Steve was turning 39 (105 if he'd been really counting) and you kissed him as the fireworks exploded over the ocean, sitting in the sand, hands tangled together. He thought the two of you would sit through the show, but then you were standing and pulling him to his feet as well and slipping away as everyone else's faces were turned to the sky.

At your house, you pulled a small cake from the fridge, just big enough to split between two people, and lit a couple of candles as you sat next to him at the kitchen table. Of course, you hadn't forgotten.

"Make a wish," you said with a happy smile. So he did, hoping this summer would never end. "What did you wish for?"

"Can't tell you, otherwise it won't come true," he replied. But then you pouted and he lost all resolve. "How about I show you instead?"

The look on your face said it all, shock mixed with intrigue and the mischief he had noticed that first night almost a week ago. So he reached down and tugged your chair closer, forcing you to face him with your knees between his. And then he leaned over and kissed you, taking your small cheeks in his large palms, putting all the power of his suppressed feelings behind it. He hoped you understood that he wanted more than to just kiss you, he wanted to occupy space inside you, fill you, complete you. Steve could feel your smile against his lips.

You pulled away. "Did you wish that I was dessert instead of the cake?

"I might have. Should we make my wish come true?"

Again you smiled, bright and guiding like a lighthouse torch, and something in your demeanor changed. Instantly, you were relenting to his touch, letting him pull you further into his lap, straddling his waist and settling into him like that was where you were meant to be. The quiet house, probably as old as him in this New England town, creaked in the silence of the night, only occasionally disturbed by the bang of a firework. But it all faded away with you in his arms.

You fit perfectly, just as Steve had hoped.

"You gonna be gentle with me, big man?" you whispered, that same brilliant smile on your face, wiggling as close to him as possible, the fingers of one hand tangled into the hair at the nape of his neck, the others tracing down the point of his sharp nose and pressing against his soft lips. "You gonna fuck me good? Be a good boy?"

Oh, Christ. Steve nearly lost his mind with your hips so tight against his, lost it at your words that made his heart race and color rise to his cheeks. He could be good. Really damn good. You seemed to know something about him that Steve didn't even know about himself, of how much he liked your praise, your commanding tone. If there was anything he was good at, it was taking orders.

"You just keep telling me what to do and I'm all yours," he mumbled against your fingers, the thump of his heart beating in time with yours somewhere deep in your chest, echoes of one another in the silence of the house. Your hand came to grip his chin, pushing another kiss against his mouth, a kiss with lips parted in a sigh, the mingled palate of you and him, like a glass of wine on the beach and chocolate melted on the tongue, sweeping over taste buds and breathed into starved lungs.

"Mm, you taste so good. Like you were created just for me, don't you think?" you asked.

"Built from the best material, just for you." Built to love you, he wanted to say. Steve shut up instead.

You hummed with pleasure and the hand on his chin gripped a little harder, a little more suggestively. He opened his mouth obediently as you slipped your thumb between his lips, and he let you press it against the soft muscle of his tongue. You wanted him to taste you, so he did, his teeth biting gently down on the pad of your finger, another pleasant hum running down your body and straight to his groin.

He waited for your instruction.

"Undress me."

He complied, obediently. Steve's large hands hiked your sundress up around your waist, revealing the softness of your hips. His fingers smoothed up the length of your thighs, kneading at the flesh of your ass that he had so longed to touch. Your reaction was music to his ears, a soft moan leaving your lips and breathed against his, and Steve closed his eyes, arousal spreading through his body at the thought that he was making you react this way. His length hardened, tight in his pants, pressed against the thin layer of fabric that covered the heat of your core. The thought that he might not fit flickered through his mind but it dissipated at the feeling of your fingers pressing into the rough stubble of his jawline.

Steve's hands continued to travel further up your body, taking time to release the zipper of your dress down the length of your spine, and you answered his quiet, "can I?" by pulling slightly away and lifting your arms over your head. The dress landed somewhere in the kitchen and Steve dragged you close again, arms wrapped around your back to encompass you completely, his lips finding purchase against the skin of your neck.

"Look at you, so perfect," Steve mumbled, face pressed into your hair. If he had looked up he would have seen you blush, but he was too preoccupied letting his senses discover every piece of you he could touch, smell, or taste. He wanted to envelop you, inch by inch, roaming and discovering and satiating his curiosity, but you dragged his attention back to your face.

"Hey, eyes up here," you said, pulling his face toward yours and locking gazes. The intensity of your eye contact was stunning, but there was something else behind those eyes, something other than intense attraction and unsatisfied arousal. Was it doubt? Insecurity? The reason why you kissed him for so many nights and never asked for more? You were searching for something, and it came in the form of a question. "You won't leave me after this, right?"

There it was, the bit of insecurity, a fear of loss, of transience, of lacking control. Someone had hurt you before. Maybe that's why you approached everything in life with such ferocity and sincerity. But Steve would never hurt you like that, never let you feel that way again. He hoped you could see it in his eyes the way he felt about you, but words would be more reassurance. "I'm yours tonight. And tomorrow. And the day and week and month and year after that, if you'll have me that long. Whatever it is you need, I'll give it to you."

You blinked and then smiled and pressed another quick kiss to his lips before murmuring, "touch me" against them. So he did, trailing his hands over every sliver of skin before him. He felt the goosebumps rising in their wake, the downy hair on your legs and arms, the heat of your core against him, grinding almost imperceptibly to find some kind of friction, any friction. He wanted to touch you so desperately, but he got the sense that you needed to take the lead, that it would give the control you felt you lacked. So he slid a hand down the plane of your stomach and stopped just shy of dipping into your panties, waiting for your word. But you were no longer interested in playing games. Your hand found his and pulled him lower, using his fingers to press into the seem of your cunt, and he found you slick and warm with desire.

You urged him forward. "Rub my clit, baby. Slowly. Gently."

Slowly and gently. That he could do. His fingers crept absentmindedly closer to the swollen bundle of nerves and when he landed there, touch soft and circling, you jerked against him, your whole body moving with the force of anticipation and a cry leaving your lips. And though it seemed to burn, seemed to be torture for yourself, you demanded he do it again. Your forehead leaned against his, eyes shut tight, and Steve watched as your face contorted in pleasure as he flicked and circled again and again and again.

"Yes, baby. Perfect. So good. So. Fucking. Good."

Every bit of you was soft, from your neck where he placed his kisses to the curled hair hiding the swollen bud of your clit where his fingers played gently and rhythmically. Even the orgasm that gushed from your smooth cunt and stuttered from your lips was soft. You came with a choked cry as your hand pulled him closer by the back of his head, your tits pressed to his chest. Steve looked up to watch you devolve into pleasure, eyes squeezed tightly shut, your hair messy and swirling about your face, the straps of your bra slipping from your shoulder.

"Bed. Now. Right now," you demanded before you even had a chance to come down from your high. He would have been just as happy to have you in the kitchen, just like that, but Steve picked you up, with you latched to his chest like a koala, and carried you upstairs. You felt feather-light in his arms, easily tossed onto the mattress, your hands reaching out to pull his white t-shirt overhead and grab at the plane of his chest. Even as Steve kissed you again you couldn't stop tracing your fingertips over the lines of his torso, the ridges of his abs, the v-line that led tantalizingly toward the waistband of his pants. He felt his cock twitch and strain against the fabric of his boxers, the rough cotton not enough to stimulate him but enough to make him ache for your pussy. Your fluttering hands were not helping and Steve pictured your thin fingers wrapping around his length.

"Look at you," you said. "You're fucking perfect." It was Steve's turn to blush.

Steve wasn't...inexperienced. But it had been a while, to say the least, since he'd had the time or energy or capacity to even feel attracted to anyone. And even longer, perhaps never, since he felt the way he felt about you, like a bee to a flower, drunk on sweet nectar and high on honey. That was you, the delicate flower, so small and tender beneath him, yet as stunning and resonating and thunderous as the fireworks bursting somewhere overhead.

Fighting to survive was all Steve had known for so long, standing up to the bully and helping the fallen to their feet, that it was a relief to not have to be that man for you. You didn't require protection or help or anything from him at all, and yet you welcomed his presence endlessly. Steve realized he was not a need for you, but a want, and for the first time he felt valued for something real, something that wasn't just his brute strength, but something almost bordering on love. This he understood as he stared at your sweet face, caging you beneath him in bed.

"Earth to Steve," you said softly as your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling his pelvis down toward yours and dragging a deep groan from his lungs. He hadn't noticed he'd stopped kissing you and was getting lost in drinking you in amidst his reverie until your small hand pressed to the back of his neck and gently guided him back to your lips. But you stopped just shy, your eyebrows knitted in concern, taking his leisurely manner for uncertainty. "We can stop if you want."

"No, definitely not."

"Good. Then stop staring and kiss me."

"Where?" he teased.

"Everywhere, big man."

Everywhere was doable. So he started at your lips with one so big and breathless it rivaled Mount Everest. For a moment he let himself forget about everything except how long he could go without oxygen against your lips. But there remained more of you to taste.

Steve's lips connected with your chin and slid down your jawline, taking time to kiss the pulse of your neck and the dip of your clavicle. The fan of his breath tickled across your skin and you giggled, the purest sound of joy bubbling from your lips at his touch. More of that he wanted. So he continued down to the valley between your breasts, full and round despite your stature, removing your bra as he did so, nibbling lightly at the peaks of your chest before replacing his teeth with his pinching fingers and moving lower again. Lower toward the edge of your ribs, arched upward to meet the movement of his mouth, toward the slope of your hips, his sharp nose following each kiss as your underwear joined your bra into the abyss.

Your thighs he kissed, top to bottom, left and right, but it was your ass he couldn't get enough of, filling his grip with handfuls of your flesh, using it to pull you toward the edge of the bed where he kneeled, lifting your hips toward his face, your legs slung one over each shoulder. Steve sunk his tongue into your folds without warning and you gasped, your thighs suddenly squeezing tight around his head.

"Yes, right there," you hissed between ragged breaths.

He responded by burying deeper, gripping you harder, and moaning with delight at your overwhelming taste and scent bombarding his senses. You squirmed but didn't pull away as Steve's hands worked their way back up your stomach to cup the tissue of your breasts, the width of his palms capturing the flesh in one big handful. Your hands covered his, holding them there, forcing him to press you into the bed while his mouth left you twitching and bucking beneath his touch.

And in spite of the urgency with which Steve wished to devour you, he continued on leisurely, doing his best to build you up slowly and gently pick you apart bit by bit the way you had asked him to do it before. Your body betrayed its delight, evidenced enough by the way your legs hooked around him and held him down, but you praised him anyways, rapture falling from your lips between sporadic moans of pleasure.

"Fuck, Steve, you're so good, oh God yes, baby, you're doing so good, taste me like that," you cried, and the words spurred him onward, hurried his movements just slightly, his tongue circling your clit, fingers circling your areolas. He would do whatever you asked, jump off a cliff, take a bullet to the chest, drown himself in a river, if only to please you. But you would never ask anything of him that he couldn't give, and Steve knew the moment you asked for his heart it would be his heart you'd receive. And with that intent in his mind, he made you come undone with a silent cry.

Eventually, the trembling ceased, even as he continued to drink your release with the ministrations of his tongue.

"Oh fuck, you like the way I taste baby?" you asked. His affirmation came out muffled and sloppy between your legs. Even you were breathless, barely getting out the words, but you pushed him nonetheless. "I wanna hear you say it, Steve. You like eating me out? Like drinking my juices?"

"Fuck, yes, you taste like goddamn heaven, darling."

"Kiss me, Steve."

"Yes, ma'am."

He complied without a second thought, crawling back up your body to lean over you, giving you a taste of the heaven he had just dipped into. When your fingers found his belt, he helped you remove the rest of his clothes. And then your hands were roving down his chest again, searching blindly until they found what they were looking for. Steve groaned at your touch on his swollen cock.

You gasped. "Oh, God."

Before Steve could respond you pushed him over onto his back and straddled his thighs, eyeing the length on display before you, fingers around it as if testing the girth and finding them unable to wrap all the way around.

"Oh God," you repeated. A short laugh bubbled up from your throat, the controlling front you'd managed to maintain this whole time slipping from your tone.

"Something wrong?" he asked, feeling slightly inadequate under your scrutiny. Steve sat up to meet your eyes, hands finding their place on your hips.

You gazed at him, eyes wide and glassy. "You're gonna split me in half with that thing."

"We don't have to. Not if you aren't comfortable."

"Oh baby, I'm gonna get real comfortable sitting on your cock." Your sultry grin was back and you rose up on your knees to look down at him. Your other hand swiped between your legs, two fingers gathering the warm, wet juices of your orgasm, before joining the first around his cock. You pumped, rolling a drop of precum off the tip with your thumb and rubbing it down his length, mixing the release of your pleasure with his. Steve barely held back from bucking his hips into your hand. He would save that for your pussy.

"I want you to fill me," you whispered. "I wanna be so fucking full. Just go slowly, okay?"

"Slowly. I got you, baby girl. You can take me. Let me fill you."

Steve lifted your hips and guided you forward, aligning your entrance with his length. You moved at a crawling pace, letting gravity sink your pussy around him, pausing every inch to adjust to his intrusion. His biceps stung with the grip of your fingernails in his skin, but it was a welcome distraction from the rush of pleasure threatening to tip him over the edge prematurely. Agonizingly you dipped further, a cry falling from your lips, until you were fully seated, the tip of him pressed into the cavity behind your cervix. You were warm, so, so warm, and soft and tight and you fit perfectly, just like he knew you would.

"Fuck, Steve, you're so big."

"Am I hurting you?" he asked, wiping away a tear from your cheek with his thumb.

"No, fuck, no, you feel so good. I just--I can't move."

"I got you, darling," Steve whispered, his face falling to your chest and burying it in the soft flesh of your tits. And then he wrapped his arms around your waist and did all the moving for you, lifting you up and sinking you down again, just fast enough to make you gasp for air and whine his name. With every thrust, you cried out in pleasure.

"Don't stop, Steve, please, baby, don't stop."

The fingers of one hand tugged at his hair dampened by sweat, nails scratching lightly across his scalp, as the other fell between your legs. You pressed your fingers around your clit and along your entrance, feeling where Steve's thick cock was pushing in and out of your tight pussy, feeling how big he was, how much he filled you. The meandering touch of your fingers almost sent him straight over the edge.

But it was the slick warmth of your cunt that was too much, and Steve found himself resting his forehead more and more heavily against your chest, willing himself to give you everything you wanted before he even thought about himself. The satin scent of your skin, like talcum and rose and his cologne, intoxicated him with every breath, and he sucked and nibbled on one breast and then the other, mindlessly attending to the most sensitive parts of you. A drop of sweat rolled down your sternum and Steve chased it with his tongue, licking a warm stripe up the center of your chest.

"Tell me what you need, darling."

"Fuck, that's perfect," you whined. "You fuck me so good, baby. Don't stop. Gonna make me come--make me come so hard."

Your fingers pressed against your clit once more and then you were clenching around him, your already tight pussy settling into a pulsing vice grip, your body shaking against his while he kissed the sweat from your collar bones. Steve felt you pumping the life out of him, riding out your orgasm and dragging him closer to his. The hand that had been on your clit moved to cup the weight of his balls, pinching and massaging as they pulled in heavy with the need for release.

"Where do you want me, darling, you gotta tell me."

You practically ordered him to come inside you, told him you wanted to feel him sticky between your thighs all night and it was suddenly Steve's turn to come undone, his hot seed pumping deep inside you, his twitching member finally finding release. He moaned your name against your lips, pulling you into a final searing kiss.

When, after a good twenty minutes of not moving from that position, of breathing heavy and kissing softly, you finally pulled away to lean down and lick his cock clean, the sticky mingling of you and him on your tongue, and he had to fight the urge to get hard again. And when you kissed him again, he tasted that mingling, two souls becoming one, as they were meant to be.

He slept next to you for the first time that night, your small frame encased in his, even though there was no need to share body heat in the dead of summer. But he actually slept, no dreams, no nightmares, no waking up in the middle of the night. Just deep, heavy sleep, your head tucked beneath his chin, back to his bare chest, his hands holding your breasts, and your hands holding his. Tangled together. Souls as one.

[chosonore]

part one | calmness

calmness [noun. the state or quality of being free from agitation or strong emotion]

pairing: kamo choso/f!reader

summary: falling in love with choso was a gradual and slow process, creeping up on you so inconspicuously that you don’t realize until the feelings hit full force. he’s become a constant in your life, your sun, your home. but does he return the feelings?

wordcount: 8k

content/warnings: roommates au, friends to lovers, fluff, slice of life, mentions of alcohol, language, some pining but not really, the amount of oblivious reader and choso will kill you, slow burn, characters are aged up if not already obvious, lowercase intended, [UNEDITED]

a/n: [hello this is a re-post because my blog was banned for a few days! so if you’ve seen it before, i’ve had to delete it i am so sorry if you’ve saved it. but it’s here to stay now!] here it is, the long awaited roommate!choso series wehfuhuehw if you’ve lurked around on my blog before, you would’ve seen the little drabbles i’ve sent suki a while back. this idea has been floating around in my head for so long and there isn’t really a lot of plot to it, it’s really just a really long slice of life thing. wanted to explore falling in love with choso, i just... love him a lot ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ i’ve spent a lot of time thinking about how he would be in situations like this and i hope you enjoy!

masterlist - next

you were pretty sure that you’d scared all the costumers away with your constant sighing – even yuuji was looking at you concerned now although you’d told him that you were fine hours prior. the entire apartment hunting issue was now getting to you; a few months prior, your landlord had announced that he would be selling the apartment, leaving you with no other option than to find a new apartment. but rent was astronomically high and you were already struggling as is. even finding roommates was proven to be a difficult feat, you weren’t sure why but you kept attracting weird people and now two weeks before the moving out date, you still didn’t have a place to stay. worst case scenario, you’d have to rent a storage space and crash at your friend’s place.

“y/n, are you okay? you look… very stressed,” yuuji asked gingerly, after he’d closed the store and helped you clean up the cash register area. “uh if it helps, you can vent to me! we’re friends right? so what’s bothering you?”

you were hesitant. sure, despite not knowing him so well since he’s only been working at the store for a month or two now, you would consider the two of you friends. but you felt bad just dumping the entirety of your worries onto him. so you opted to tell him the… short truth.

“ah it’s just- i’ve been looking for a place to stay because, essentially, i’m getting kicked out of my place but it’s been pretty unsuccessful,” you sighed, scrubbing at the counter more vigorously now. “i need to move out in two weeks but i haven’t found a place yet and the people looking for roommates just seem to be people who would drive me insane.”

“oh really?” yuuji sounded hopeful- wait, why did he sound hopeful? “my older brother is looking for a new roommate! his former roommate recently moved in with his boyfriend so the room is vacant right now. if you want, i could arrange a date for you to look at the apartment and meet him? i promise my brother isn’t weird or anything, he’s pretty diligent with chores and is always up to hang out.”

your jaw dropped; yuuji was your lifesaver. he was incredibly friendly and polite, always helping others and looking out for everyone. you were overwhelmed with joy and relief, maybe you were naïve and too hast in trusting his words but his brother had to be similar to him, you couldn’t imagine them being polar opposites. it couldn’t be that bad and at this point, you were desperate. “i would love that! when are you guys free?”

“ah we could actually head over to his place after clocking out,” yuuji put the boxes and pens back into place before ushering you to the staff room and turning the lights off. “he’s been home quite early lately, so i can just let him now right now if you’re free?”

you nodded in agreement, almost too eagerly, as you threw your jacket on and grabbed your bag, waiting for yuuji outside of the store. it was already dark outside and you almost felt bad for taking up his time like this but he had offered after all. yuuji was furiously texting as he stepped out of the building, screen lighting up his face in a comical way. in the dim light of the street lamps, you clumsily fumbled with the keys before finally being able to lock the door.

“you’re in luck, he’s home right now!” yuuji announced, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his red sweater. “said it’s okay if we drop by real quick.”

you hummed in thought, matching yuuji’s pace as you walked across the street. “does he live far away from here?”

“nope, it’s basically around the corner.”

thankfully, the apartment was within walking distance so you had a slow stroll while talking about work, friends and uni. although you shared the same friend circle, it was almost impossible to have both of you in the same room – yuuji was often busy with club activities while you were constantly studying or working. it wasn’t until he started working at the store that you finally got to know each other, immediately getting along much to your friends’ relief. he had never talked about his older brother before so you were surprised that he had siblings at all. but he sounded genuine when he said that his brother was cool so you didn’t think much of it.

“okay so this is the place,” yuuji stopped in front of a building, pressing the doorbell. “please don’t be too intimidated when you meet choso, he looks unfriendly and unamused sometimes but that’s just his face.”

turning around, you took a closer look at your surroundings. it was an apartment building that looked rather cozy, surrounded by tall, expanding trees. to your relief, it wasn’t a sketchy neighbourhood - you’d always felt wary about walking home by yourself after a late shift. in the distance, you could see a playground and screaming, laughing children. it was harmonious and peaceful, easing your soul and initial doubts.

“oh okay,” you bit your lip in nervousness as the buzzer went off, following yuuji into the building. the closer you got to the apartment, the squirmier you got, anxious about meeting his older brother. the door was already left ajar so you could enter, the smell of food wafting out of the apartment to the hallway. you peeked inside before entering, immediately feeling more at ease upon seeing that the apartment was organized and clean. coats and jackets hung up on the coatrack, shoes lined up neatly along the wall. several photos were stuck to the wall - one of a younger chubby-cheeked yuuji, one of what looked like a garden party, another one of a happily smiling group of people. your heart was warming up; yuuji’s brother seemed like a rather attentive person who appreciated his surroundings and close friends and family.

“choso! did you make dinner for me?” yuuji called out as he kicked off his shoes and stormed inside before you could stop him, leaving you to your own devices as you awkwardly stood in the hallway of the apartment after closing the door. you took your shoes off slowly, stalling as much time as possible. should you just wait for yuuji to come back? or should you come in and greet them with the same energy that yuuji just exuded? but then his brother might think that you were weird and reject you straight away. you froze when a deeper voice rang out.

“didn’t you say you’d bring a friend? where are they?”

you hastily took off your shoes and tiptoed deeper into the apartment, hiding behind yuuji as you looked at the taller man in front of him. his brother looked at you curiously, placing the cooking utensils he was holding onto the counter. so yuuji and him did look like polar opposites. yuuji, for the lack of better terms, looked like a soft peach while the man in front of you had tied his dark, long hair in twin tails and was sporting a huge white shirt with sweatpants but perhaps the most striking thing about him was the face tattoo. you hadn’t expected that at all. he spiked your interest, you couldn’t deny that he was attractive. you had to snap out of it, this was your potential future roommate and you did not need to have any further thoughts. not of that kind.

“hi,” you greeted quietly and held your hand out for him to shake. “i’m y/n, nice to meet you.”

“choso.” he shook your hand, giving you an approving nod.

maybe you stared at his hand a little too obviously, admiring his long fingers, his nicely shaped fingernails and the veins on his hand. yuuji cleared his voice, slightly elbowing you in the side. you gasped in embarrassment, jerking your hand from his and hiding it behind your back. choso didn’t seem like he had caught onto your staring. and if he did, he had enough mercy to not bring it up.

“let me show you your room first,” choso explained unfazed, patiently waiting until you followed him. he walked across the living room, pointing to the side. while yes, he was attractive and seemed to be an enjoyable person to be around with, you couldn’t shake the wariness in your bones. choso switched on the lights, letting you step into the room first. it was empty for the most part, aside from a few boxes that were neatly stacked and placed in the corner. the room had a comfortable size, big enough to fit everything that you owned but not too big so that you’d feel uncomfortable with the empty spaces.

“sorry about the boxes,” choso apologized, turning to you. “i’ve been storing some of the stuff from our studio here, since i sometimes work from home and it was more convenient to have it here instead of my room.”

“i see…” you nodded, trying your best not to peek at the contents of the box. “if you don’t mind me asking, what do you work as?”

“some of my friends and me, we’ve opened a tattoo and piercing studio earlier this year. i only do tattoos though, some of the others do piercings additionally,” he explained to you, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. your mouth fell open, making you look like a fish. you couldn’t hide your excitement, eyes gleaming like you’d just discovered the biggest treasure you’ve ever seen.

“really? that’s so cool! yuuji never told me you were a tattooist, i would love to see your works someday,” you grinned from ear to ear while choso looked away from you, not being able to handle the praise. although he appreciated the sentiment, he didn’t know how to respond to compliments - the feeling was foreign to him.

"yeah, sure," choso replied with a strained voice. in the dim light, no one would be able to make out how the tips of his ears reddened and choso was thankful for that. he cleared his voice, slowly trudging outside of the room to show you the rest of his apartment.

when yuuji had mentioned that he’d found a potential roommate for choso, he didn’t tell anything else. choso didn’t expect it to be yuuji’s co-worker, much less someone whose energy was so bright and happy unlike his gloomy self. he briefly wondered whether you were okay with living here - even if you were desperate to find an apartment, surely you'd at least want someone who was… more open and less intimidating than him.

you trailed behind his broad frame, carefully taking in the entirety of the apartment. it seemed like there was nothing to worry about. even though you've only known him for a few minutes, you felt at ease with him and that gave you a better feeling about moving in with him. yuuji was innocently sitting on the couch, spooning the soup choso had prepared earlier while watching tv. his eyes followed the pair, relieved that there was less awkwardness than he anticipated but slightly suspicious because… there was something.

as choso showed you the rest of the apartment - kitchen, living room and bathroom - he comprehensively explained expenses and house rules to you. there weren't many rules to begin with; choso simply disliked clutter and expected everything to be put back to its original place after use, being noisy was a no-go as well. everything in between was negotiable. by the end of the apartment tour, you joined yuuji in the living room. he shot you a questioning look, raising his eyebrow in curiosity. you were certain that you'd take the offer. there was no way this opportunity would go to waste.

"thank you for showing me around, choso," you smiled at him gratefully. "if you're okay with me moving in, i'd love to become your roommate. i think we'll get along well."

the last box was haphazardly tossed in the corner of your room, earning you a disapproving glare from choso. exhausted, you flopped on the bed and spread across it like a starfish. choso placed the remaining boxes on the floor. moving day was, despite choso coming to your rescue, utterly chaotic and tiring. your muscles were aching from overexertion and there was no remaining energy or nerve for you to attend to unpacking. you felt like a jellylike mass.

"i'll cook something for us. do you have any preferences or dislikes?"

you lifted your head slightly to peek at choso who was standing in the doorway, on his way out. “you’ll cook for me? what are you, an angel?”

choso didn’t reply, simply stared at you. he was used to such antics - it reminded him of his childhood when he was still living with yuuji and taking care of him. lethargically, you shook your head and planted your face back in the pillow. "no, i'm okay with anything. will inhale anything as long as it's edible," though your voice was muffled, choso understood you nonetheless. he made a confused, albeit affirmative noise before disappearing. a long exhale left your lips. truthfully, you were lucky to have an amazing roommate like choso. even though you didn't know each other well and he wasn't very talkative, he was very much willing to help. with time, you were sure he would warm up to you and become great friends. your eyes were slowly drooping, the exhaustion settling in your bones. within minutes, you dozed off into a deep, comfortable slumber. you didn't wake until a knock roused you out of your sleep, startling you in the process.

"huh? yeah?" you scrambled hastily, trying to fix the bird's nest that was your hair. choso did not need to see you in this state - delirious from being woken up from your deep slumber, feeling as if you'd woken up in a new century and with imprints of your pillows and blanket on your skin. before you could make yourself presentable, choso had already opened the door and stared at you unabashedly.

you blinked dumbfounded, staring back at him.

“food’s ready. you coming?” choso gave you a questioning look, waiting for a reaction. so apparently, he did not care what you looked like after waking up. he didn’t even bat an eyelid at your messy state, unfazed by it.

“uh yeah, give me a minute,” you replied after a few moments passed, sitting up tiredly. choso nodded before closing the door behind him as he returned to the kitchen. grabbing yourself a fluffy blanket, you wrapped it around yourself and waddled outside. whatever he had prepared, it smelled divine. you hummed in content as you took a seat at the dining table. the table was already set, dishes still steaming and looking so inviting that you had to stop yourself from drooling. choso padded to the table, placing some drinks on the table before taking a seat as well. as he described the dishes he'd cooked for the two of you, you inconspicuously looked him up and down. this time, without yuuji catching wind of it.

you knew choso was tall and very broad but you only realized the full extent of it seeing how the chair seemed tiny in comparison to his frame. his hair was down for a change, falling just above his shoulders. as usual, he was wearing comfortable clothes; a big shirt, big enough that you could admire his arm muscles and hands every time the sleeves moved. not only was he attractive, he was incredibly attentive and helpful as well, not expecting anything in return.

"thank you for cooking, i really appreciate it. looks really good," you complimented choso, taking a bite from the dish. you hummed delighted, wiggling in your seat happily. "oh my god, this is so delicious! where did you learn cooking like this?"

"i used to cook for yuuji and myself a lot."

"i wanna return the favour too but now i kind of feel inadequate," you joked lightly, smiling at him sheepishly. while you weren't the worst cook, you weren't outstandingly great either. choso however, was probably the best cook you knew.

"i don't mind. as long as you do your best, it's the thought that counts."

you nodded in agreement, taking a sip from your drink. silence fell over you; a comfortable silence however, both of you just enjoying the food. you supposed it wasn't too bad if you took your time getting to know each other - after all, choso seemed like someone who would quickly recoil if cornered. it wasn't too much of a concern.

after finishing the meal, you helped him clean up and wash the dishes. nudging him gently, you asked: "do you want to watch some movies after? yuuji recommended me a few that i have yet to check out."

choso took the plates, drying them with the towel before placing them back to their designated spots. "sure, you're responsible for the movie selection then."

spending time with choso was easy, almost too easy. you were glad that the two of you were off to a good start, he didn't seem to mind your company and you enjoyed his. cheerfully, you put the movie on, snuggling the blanket that was wrapped around you. the way you were laying on the couch was reminding choso of a little burrito. unbeknownst to him, the corner of his lips lifted a little at the sight. he waited until you noticed him and shuffled a little so he could sit on the couch as well. the movie you had chosen was a lighthearted comedy, one that yuuji had highly praised and recommended you watch first.

midway through the movies, the exhaustion was creeping up on you, making you feel heavy and sleepy until you slumped against choso's side. he glanced to the side, observing you to see whether you would wake up. soft and steady breaths left your lips, already asleep within seconds. choso pondered whether to wake you now, worrying that you would miss out on the movie that you were so eager to watch. you looked so peaceful that he felt bad, deciding to wake you once the movie was over. but even choso couldn't shake the tiredness, gradually slumping against you until sleep overtook him as well.

as the sun was rising, light was flooding the apartment, filling it with warmth. you scrunched your eyebrows at the brightness, attempting to move so it wouldn't blind you. the first thing you noticed was your strained neck - probably because of the weird position you had slept in - and the second thing was that something heavy was laying on your lap. blinking in confusion, you peeked, groaning inwardly at the blinding light. black hair was splayed across your lap, connecting to… choso? oh no. oh no. you must've fallen asleep while watching the movie and judging how choso was comfortably using your lap as a pillow, he did as well. embarrassment spread throughout your body; this wasn't supposed to happen, much less with someone you didn't know so well.

now that you were unintentionally watching him, you felt creepy. the situation was too perplexing to you - should you wake him now? or just wait… until he woke up? but what if you had to pee. what if choso wasn’t going to wake up until a few hours later? what if he woke up and saw you staring at him like a creep? though you did think he looked vulnerable and peaceful in this state, unusual from his intimidating, unwavering self. it made your heart tingle with an unknown feeling, softly bubbling with curiosity.

beneath you, choso was moving slightly, shuffling around until he felt comfortable. you stayed still, tensely watching his next movements. he remained still for a while, making you exhale in relief. until he didn’t. choso blinked a few times, trying to make sense of his surroundings until his gaze fell onto yours. and you stared back, frozen in fear. even if he was the one laying on your lap, you felt anxious.

“uh i… we must’ve fallen asleep last night, ha ha…”

“you fell asleep early on and i was going to wake you after the movie ended but fell asleep myself, i’m sorry for making you feel uncomfortable,” choso apologized sincerely and sat up right away, rubbing his eyes sleepily. even though he looked rather deadpan, there was a trace of embarrassment on his face.

“oh no, it’s okay! we both fell asleep after all… ah, since we’re roommates, we’re sort of friends now, right? so don’t mind it too much, it happens!” you gave choso a reassuring smile, showing him that there was no bad blood between you.

choso nodded slowly. “i guess so. i’m glad you don’t mind. "

an awkward pause.

"do you have classes anytime soon? i can make breakfast for us.”

and just like that, the tension between you was alleviated. not completely gone, but barely noticeable. choso stretched like a cat, yawning quietly before he got up. you couldn't help but glance at his toned stomach, eyes almost bulging at the sight. turning to the side, you hid your face and cleared your voice. "i don't have classes today but i have to go to work later. so i won't say no to breakfast if you're making it."

"how's living with choso?" yuuji questioned you curiously, leaning against the counter. lowering the pen and writing board you were holding, you hummed in thought. in the past few weeks, the two of you had settled into a comfortable routine. there were minor hiccups here and there but the issues were easily resolved - somehow, you silently understood each other, an important foundation for a good friendship.

"pretty relaxing, to be honest. he's a good roommate and friend," you replied, clicking with the pen which earned you an annoying glance from yuuji. "you should've told me he was a great cook! i don't think i've ever tasted any dishes that were as good as his."

"he cooks for you?" the surprised tone in yuuji's voice startled you. was that out of the ordinary? you just thought he was being a good friend when he prepared dinner for you whenever you had a late shift.

"uh yeah? mostly when i come home late or when we have movie nights together. i always tell him that i can definitely help but he insists that he's fine doing it himself."

"i see. choso just doesn't like people messing with his cooking routine, that's all. i'm not even allowed near the kitchen, even though i'm not that bad of a cook either," yuuji laughed, scratching his head sheepishly. he wasn't going to tell you why he was perplexed by the fact that choso willingly cooked for you. it was too early to make any assumptions; he just couldn't shake the feeling that there was something at play. no one knew his brother better than him - choso would never do any favours for persons he didn't care about, persons that weren't family or extremely close friends. while they had talked about choso's thoughts about you, he never mentioned anything more than getting along well and often spending time together. for choso's standards, you were a quite close friend.

"oh, and here i was, thinking that he must really hate my cooking skills. so it's just that," you concluded, grinning happily. he was weirdly persistent about it but knowing this detail about him, you'd stop pestering him in the future. "hey do you wanna come over tomorrow? it's movie night again, i'm sure you'd enjoy it too."

"hmm, sounds tempting. if you can convince choso to cook, i'm in."

"pff, who would say no to this face," you retorted mischievously, showing yuuji the best puppy face you could muster up. he groaned, pushing you gently.

"show off," he told you jokingly and rolled his eyes. "i don't know how choso tolerates you."

"you're just jealous, huh? didn't think you had that emotion in you. choso and me are the bestest of friends, of course we get along well," you stuck your tongue out at yuuji before leaving him to his own devices as you bolted to the cash register to help a customer. as you animatedly conversed with them, yuuji shook his head. it was obvious that there was some attraction but that was something he'd let you figure out. cupid wasn't a well-fitting job for him. friends, my ass.

"huh, did you say something, yuuji?"

"no, not at all."

soft, melodious music was playing in the background as you silently sat at the counter, watching choso prepare some meals before yuuji was visiting. this time, you heeded his advice, not pestering his brother about needing help and instead just opting to watch him and make light conversation. choso seemed to have noticed as well, mood ever so slightly lifted when he saw you simply taking a seat and asking about his day. he liked this routine, being able to go about his day without someone unwantedly poking their nose into his business until he felt comfortable enough to talk about it. as you absentmindedly doodled on a napkin, choso casually told you about his day at work. about squirmy customers who were getting their first tattoo done, about those that had interesting ideas that he was still trying to find ways to implement, about how noisy his co-workers were and that they wanted to have a night out soon.

“do you wanna join us? you said you wanted to meet my friends,” choso asked, briefly glancing up at you as he was dicing the vegetables. it was true, you did inquire about his friends at some point, more so jokingly and out of curiosity - although he complained about them every now and then, you could tell that he deeply cared about them. choso was the kind of person who acted like a mother hen around friends and sometimes nagged a lot more than you anticipated. but then somehow, miraculously, every minuscule task that would stress you was completed and topped with a freshly made, warm dish by the end of the day. he wasn't good with words but his actions made up for it.

you didn’t expect him to offer you to tag along. he was comfortable enough to introduce you to his friends, even seemed to trust you with them. it felt… strangely heartwarming. "i would love to join you but i have quite a lot of assignments piling up; i'll have to do some night shifts to finish them," you replied and sighed ruefully, putting the pen away. "i'll tag along once i've finished everything, okay?"

choso frowned slightly. "but don't overwork yourself. you'll end up frustrated and burnt out," he told you earnestly, reaching out to pat your head. you gaped at him, the fond gesture making you feel flustered. it was nice knowing that he was looking out for you. choso stared back at you, seemingly startled by his own gesture as well. his hand had moved faster than he could react - he didn't know what to make of it.

the ring of the doorbell interrupted every trail of thought and you jumped up quickly. "i'll get it!" you sprinted towards the entrance, letting yuuji in. perhaps you greeted him too overzealously, yuuji looked at you like he knew something was up. nonetheless, he didn't mention anything, instead presenting you the bottle of wine and some dvds that he brought. choso gave his younger brother an acknowledging grunt, too absorbed in his tasks. taking in his surroundings as he got comfortable on the couch, he noticed some subtle changes in the apartment - the numerous pillows and fleece blankets littered across the couch, the set of matching mugs as well as choso's sketchbooks and, presumably, your textbooks on the coffee table. it was obvious that the two of you spent a lot of time together.

even throughout dinner, yuuji realized that choso had taken a liking to you, more than he probably realized and let on. he almost felt like a third wheel watching how you animatedly talked about trivial things and even more so when it was movie time. like a little burrito, you were wrapped in a blanket, leaning against choso. though it surprised yuuji to see his older brother opening up to you so rapidly, he was happy about it. although chaotic and clumsy, you were a good person and a positive influence. having witnessing how choso had closed up and how hurt he had been after the break up of his previous relationship, yuuji was glad that he wasn't cautious around you and welcomed your presence. even though… both of you were painfully oblivious.

"should we wake her?" yuuji asked as he saw you snuggling into choso's side, peacefully sleeping while the movie was still on.

"no, it's okay. she often falls asleep midway through movies, i just let her sleep. probably exhausted from uni."

yuuji looked at him as if he grew three heads. "so you just let her sleep? and you… sleep on the couch too?"

"hm? yeah, kind of. i feel bad about waking her and we're friends so it's not that big of a deal," choso replied innocently, shifting slightly so he was comfortable while keeping his arm around you. ever so slightly, he leaned onto you.

yuuji buried his face in his hands, silently screaming. don't comment on it, don't say anything, it's none of your business. you might have pink hair but you're no cupid.

utterly exhausted, you made your way into the apartment. you flopped onto the couch, grunting in irritation when you heard choso calling your name. staying put, you just laid there and listened to his footsteps nearing. "you okay? did anything happen?" he questioned, leaning over the couch to look at you. you weren't even sure what to answer, whatever you were feeling at the moment was an accumulation of stress across multiple weeks. you were frustrated with your projects, feeling like you weren't making any progress and not having time for yourself whatsoever. all you needed was a break, a pick me up.

"do you wanna talk about it?" choso repeated again but you shook your head, lifting your head slightly to look at him. he almost felt bad for thinking that you looked adorable, the way you huffed in frustration with a little pout on your lips. you shook your head, hugging one of the pillows.

"not now, later maybe?"

"okay. i'll make you a cup of tea." he disappeared from your field of vision. you listened to the sound of the kettle, closing your eyes as you focused on it. slowly, your erratic thoughts came to a halt. your breath and heartbeat steadied and you gradually felt more calm. clack. choso placed the cup of tea on the coffee table, taking a seat next to you. he was hesitant to touch you just yet, waiting for another reaction from you. sniffling quietly, you sat up and thanked him quietly.

"choso?"

"hm?"

"can i have a hug?" you inquired meekly. he didn't reply, simply pulling you into his arms. without hesitation, you wrapped your arms around him, nuzzling your face in the crook of his neck. he smelled nice, like freshly washed laundry and the shampoo he was using. it reminded you of home, making you feel more at ease. gently, choso rubbed your back; wherever his fingers moved, it left a trail of goosebumps on your skin. not that he noticed anyways, fortunately. for a few minutes, only the sound of breathing resounded. it was calming and warm - choso was warm, so warm - you almost fell asleep. humming quietly, you moved closer to him.

"today was just really… bad. everything went wrong," you confided in him. "it made me feel like shit, like i couldn't do anything right. i guess i just feel really stressed so i can't concentrate on anything."

choso leaned forward, reaching out to grab the cup of tea. you squeaked in surprise, holding onto him so you wouldn't drop backwards. his left arm snaked around your waist, keeping you in place as he leaned back again. you moved back a little, as far as choso's arm allowed you to, and took the cup from him, taking small sips. "i think you're doing okay," he told you, drawing patterns on your back. "it's only natural to feel this way when everything's been piling up. what you need is a good rest and have a reset, you'll feel more refreshed and inspired to work on your projects. and don't hesitate to ask for help, no matter whether it's a professor or classmate."

"i also told you not to overwork yourself, didn't i? and don't think i can't tell that you've been pulling all nighters," he scolded you, pinching your cheek playfully. it made you giggle, tilting your head to get away from his hand.

"yeah i know, i know. just couldn't help it, it's a bad habit. i'll try to get better at it," you promised him, giving him a reassuring smile. "thank you for listening to me."

"it's the least i can do."

a comfortable silence fell over you. choso continued to rub your back in an attempt to soothe your nerves while you sipped your tea. you were grateful for him, he was an amazing friend - you didn’t even know how to show gratitude to him. awkwardly turning to put the mug back on the table, you then leaned against him. “choso?” you hummed against his chest, snaking your arms around his waist. “you know you can talk to me about problems too, right?”

“what do you think we’ve been doing these past few weeks?” he retorted and chuckled in amusement. “you should try to go to bed now. get some rest, you’ll feel better tomorrow.”

you pouted, not wanting to move. fortunately, he couldn’t see the face you were making - you weren’t ready to let him go just yet, wanting to memorize the expanse of his chest, his warmth, the way his arms felt around you. it made you feel safe, like a temporary relief to your anxiety. “can we… can we watch a movie maybe? i’m not sleepy yet.”

of course, choso saw right through you. “you always say that and then you fall asleep midway. you just don’t want to move, huh?”

“okay, you caught me,” you giggled hysterically as he stood up slowly and pretended to let you fall, catching you before you fell. clinging onto his shoulders, you wrapped your legs around his waist. you refused to let go. unbothered, he held you by your thighs as he waddled across the living room towards the console to choose a dvd to watch. while clinging onto choso, you could hear his heart beating rapidly - you chalked it up to how strenuous it must be to carry you around. choso, on other hand, couldn’t put a finger on the warm, tingly feeling inside of him. did he like having you around like this? stupid, of course he did, you were good friends after all. spending time with you was relaxing for him as well. back on the couch, he let you use his lap as a pillow, absentmindedly combing his fingers through your hair. the two of you remained in this position until both inevitably fell asleep, movie still playing in the background.

“y/n. earth to y/n. dude, can you hear me?” nobara was frantically waving papers in front of your face, rolling her eyes as you snapped out of your trance and took them from her. to your delight, the two of you shared quite a few classes this semester which meant that you could usually share the workload as well. you copied some of her notes, hastily scribbling them in your notebook.

"sorry, i was lost in thought. what did you say?"

"i asked you whether you wanna go out later? the whole crew is coming, it's been a while anyways," your friend repeated, placing her little cosmetics bag on the table to check her makeup and apply another layer of lip gloss.

"ah sorry, i already have plans for today, maybe ano-"

"with whom?" she asked pointedly, narrowing her eyes at you. in recent times, you've been rejecting her offers to hang out a lot; whether it be because of studying or hanging out with… "wait, are you having a date with that roommate of yours again?"

"it's not a date!" you briefly paused, giving her a dirty look. nobara was weirdly persistent about this dating thing, claiming that you would never get anywhere if you didn't make a move. "his name is choso, yuuji's older brother. i told you a million times already. he's been a really good friend and taking care of me when i feel stressed, so i thought it would be time for me to do the same for him."

"a really good friend?" a doubtful look was shot your way.

"yeah, i mean yuuji cooks for us all the time, how is it any different? anyways, i'll join you guys another day, okay?"

nobara stayed still for a moment. you truly didn't realize how much you's been mentioning choso. choso this, choso that, choso here, choso there. even yuuji had confided in her that he thought you might have developed a crush on his older brother though he wasn't certain. nobara, however, was sure. but operation make y/n realize things proved to be more difficult, considering you hadn't had a crush before as you were never interested in relationships.

"fine. but in return, you have to tell me about choso. what do you think of him?" nobara stuffed her belongings into the impossibly full handbag. propping her chin on her hands, she leaned closer to you with a shit-eating grin. you sighed, putting the papers away. it was no use trying to focus on your assignments when she was in an investigative mood. she wouldn't let go of the issue until you gave her a satisfactory answer. and for some reason, it irked you that she was inquiring about choso. why was she so curious about him? couldn't she have asked yuuji instead? it was his brother after all. maybe nobara was… interested in choso? you narrowed your eyes at her.

"i think he's great. might be intimidating at first and not very talkative but when he opens up to you, he's actually a softie. very respectful and polite towards people, always thinks of others first. and not to mention, he's really talented too! he often acts like he's annoyed by people or minds his own business but he really does care a lot. you feel comforted by his presence when you're close with him," you rambled, trying to list all the positive points about him that you could think of. nobara nodded slightly as she was listening to you, making it difficult to gauge her stance on him. was she going to confess now? maybe you should confront her about it. yeah, she would never admit it otherwise. "nobara, are you interested in choso? if you wanted me to introduce you to him, you could've just asked."

nobara stared at you with an open mouth. checkmate.

"you know i wouldn't have judged you at all! after all, choso is handsome too. so really, you don't have to sneak around about this," you concluded triumphantly, patting her arm in reassurance. it filled you with pride to be able to catch nobara off guard for once - usually, she was very composed and ready to give you a sassy answer.

"y/n, sweetie. you're so very wrong." nobara sighed, dejectedly pushing your hand away. you were incredibly dense when it came to feelings and relationships. maybe it would be more amusing to just watch everything pan out. “i don’t really care about choso, that’s your man after all.”

“yeah, yeah, i- wait what?”

thankfully, you arrived home earlier than choso did - for once. and for once, this friday was going to be a relaxing one, seeing as you’d finally finished your projects and assignments and could finally engage in a much needed self care day. placing the groceries bags on the counter, you went through the ingredients again just to make sure you didn’t forget anything. yuuji had given you a recipe for his famous meatballs recipe, claiming that it was one of choso’s favourite dishes. in recent times, choso seemed to be exhausted and sometimes even easily irritable after work - considering how much he did for you, it was only fair for you to treat him as well. surprising him seemed to be the best course of action.

making quick work of the ingredients, you took your time to clean the apartment while the soup was still cooking. yuuji was kind enough to lend you a few dvds, not even asking you whether you were going to watch them with choso anymore. while you felt bad about turning your friends down yet again, you promised yourself to make it up to them in the future by inviting them over for a sleepover or movie night. though knowing them, they would not let you stay in the comfort of your home but drag you to a party or club again. especially nobara would always insist on dragging you along, while megumi and yuuji didn’t really care about where they would be going for the night. her excuse was to find you a partner, claiming that it was about time you realized how cute you were, which you vehemently denied. even maki had told her to pipe it down at some point. all the more, it made you suspicious that nobara had not brought the topic up anymore. you couldn’t imagine her giving up so quickly, considering how persistent she had been for almost a year now.

the jingle of the keys and the soft click of the door made you stop whatever you were doing, peeking around the corner to see choso coming in. giggling quietly, you watched as he stopped in his tracks and sniffed the air, seemingly confused about the scent of the soup. he turned around upon hearing you, a small, almost unnoticeable smile on his lips. “up to no good?” he questioned you teasingly, placing his bag and jacket in the wardrobe. huffing, you stuck your tongue out at him and shook your head. you padded over to him, softly tugging at the sleeve of his shirt to make him follow you to the kitchen.

“since you always cook for me, i thought it would be time for me to do the same for you. yuuji showed me your favourite dish but i’m not sure if it turned out as well as he always makes it,” you sheepishly explained, showing him the pot of soup and the bowls and cutlery that you’d already laid out. choso hugged your side, squeezing your waist gently before patting your head and muttering a quiet thank you. your chest filled with pride, finally being helpful to him for once. if you weren’t careful, it would burst - he fuelled your ego even more as he complimented you, telling you how well the soup turned out and that he really appreciated it. you knew he wasn’t lying, for one because he was a sincere person and always offered heartfelt compliments, and because of how eagerly he was eating, practically inhaling the soup in one go. he even looked like he was in a food coma by the time you finished dinner, making you ban him from the kitchen to take a rest on the couch.

after washing the dishes, you came back to the living room to see him lie across the couch, eyes closed and calmly breathing. he looked like he was taking a nap, until he opened his eyes to peek at you as you approached. giddily, you joined him on the couch, showing him the hair products that you’d already placed on the coffee table. “can i give you a massage and do… uh hair stuff? i really like it when people brush my hair and stuff and i thought you might enjoy it too,” you explain to him. choso contemplated for a few seconds before shrugging nonchalantly. yes! you signaled him to sit on the floor in front of you as you pressed play. with the sound of the movie in the background, you focused on choso’s hair and took off the hair ties first. he got comfortable, turning towards the tv and learning his head against the edge of the couch. gently running your fingers through his hair, you made sure to detangle rough knots before massaging his scalp gently. you could tell that choso was beginning to relax by the way his shoulders were slowly sagging. in silence, you worked through the entirety of his scalp before moving on to brush his hair.

if you didn’t already know that choso was a naturally withdrawn person, you would’ve been concerned by how quiet he was and how he didn’t show any reactions to the movie. you were glad that he seemed to like the entire hair spa ordeal; he didn’t even seem to mind that you were using your hair products on him, the soft floral scent now emanating from his hair as you massaged it through the tips and then brushed it in slow strokes. by the time you were done, he looked utterly relaxed, struggling to keep his eyes open as he climbed back on the couch and sat next to you. without having to ask, he wrapped his arms around you. yawning quietly, you moved closer to him, turning your attention to the tv. habitually, his hands moved against your back, drawing shapes and patterns. slowly, choso could feel the heat in his body rising and chalked it up to the close proximity. it did make him feel a little uneasy however; he shifted you around on his lap until he felt comfortable. abruptly halting his movements, he froze as you turned to him, ass grazing his groin. an electric shock ran through him. subconsciously, he jolted at the friction. the tips of his ears turned red in embarrassment but he reassured you he was fine when you looked at him concerned. what the hell was that? was his body now not listening to him after being so relaxed?

“choso, can i ask you something?” you leaned back slightly to look at him.

“you already did. but yeah, go ahead.” choso grinned at the little huff you let out, grasping your hand in time as you tried to hit his chest and intertwined your fingers so you couldn’t move.

“uh this might sound weird but i think a friend of mine is interested in you. nobara, do you know her?” you squeezed his hand, moving it around with yours. “she asked me about you the other day.”

“huh, really? isn’t that one of yuuji’s friends too?”

you nodded in agreement. “yeah, we’re all friends. i only told her good things about you, of course.”

choso hesitated. he wasn’t sure what to tell you, not wanting to say something about your friend that could upset you. but the truth was, he wasn’t really interested in anyone right now. the recent breakup had done a number on him and he felt like he hadn’t properly moved on just yet. not when the thoughts were still obsessively circling in his head. but when choso was with you, they miraculously seemed to disappear, making him feel more at ease. “i’m not really looking for anything right now, sorry. i don’t really want to disappoint her, i’m just not really up for a relationship right now,” he told you truthfully, giving you an apologetic smile.

you stopped in your movements, nodding slightly in understanding. and still, it made your heart seize up for an unknown reason.

ps.: the story of how it takes reader and choso ages until they realize their feelings or alternatively: nobara and yuuji unwillingly turn into cupids

[my2phetaliaheadcanons]

Can I ask the 2p allies and the 2p axis, separately to each of them, reacting to a love confession from a close country with whom they recently developed feelings but did not yet confess because they feared she would reject them as she was too good a girl for them? ❤️

“I love you.” That was all it took to change his world.

France – François stood there. He couldn’t have heard that right, did they really just confess to him?

He is confused. François is a firm believer that you often get someone at a similar level to you in relationships. An example of this is wanting to be with someone active, for the relationship to work you have to either already by at that level or work toward that level of fitness. So, to have perfection not only acknowledge him, but like him back causes a second or two of him blue screening.

After his blue screening, François will tell her how he feels. His words will be kept simple but will feel poetic. He will also not allow her to leave his side until a time and day is set for their first date.

America – Allen smiled, it wasn’t the overconfident smirk or the wide predator’s grin he usually showed. It was a genuine smile big and full of hope.

For Allen, in this moment the world felt bright and colorful. The sounds that were once so loud became quiet and the only beings to exist were the two of them. He was happy and this level of purity was not something he had felt in a long time.

Since this relationship is with someone that Allen feels like would reject him, he would feel his ego grow. Don’t get me wrong, he would be amazing and happy, but it would boost his ego. It was not only a sign your love was meant to be, but that he was also irresistible.

Allen would take her on a date that very hour. It would be something informal like dinner at a diner. They would talk for a while and enjoy each other’s presence.

Canada – Matt’s hand came to cover his face. Looking closely, one could see the blush covering his cheeks as he laughed.

Laughing may seem like a weird reaction, but it is one way Matt shows feelings of relief and joy. He had never expected to end up with this cutie and for her to confess first, that isn’t very manly of him. In his mind, he would have imagined various different scenarios where he finally let this fear go and manned up. Many of them involved him winning her heart in a fight or competition. Though, he was not upset with this.

Matt would take a note out of François’ book and plan a date with her, but he would treat her to something before the date. If they had a meeting before the date, he would bring a small gift for her to the meeting and would work extra hard to be chivalrous.

England – Oliver looked stumped for a moment, before asking if it was heartfelt. Her reply of a confirmation sent Oliver launching into her arms.

Since Oliver works in the realm of emotional manipulation, he would do his best to certain that emotions like love were actually felt by the woman he yearned for. He would accept the words after double checking and be willing to show he love for her openly. After a day or two past connections would resurface, and he would be paranoid about it. Though, if she stays true in both word and deed, Oliver would do all he could to make up for his odd behavior.

Being the nation known for chivalry, he will fall right into the boyfriend role. Opening doors, carrying things for you, and coming up with amazing dates would be his forte.

Russia – Viktor’s body relaxed when he registered the words that came from her mouth. A small smile graced his features as he gently pulled her close.

This man of tradition would feel both relief and agitation. His relief in that she felt the same, while agitation that he failed to notice her pining. Viktor would tell himself that he would have to make up for his lack of attention. This would mean taking extra care to the needs of his snowflake. After all a good man does not leave his woman wanting.

Viktor would surprise her with a date a couple days after the confession. He during the time in between he would talk with her nearest kin and ensure that they know she is in good hands and that he wants the same thing has them, her happiness.

China – Jin could feel his eyes water as he smiled. He was not this blessed often and he would not take this chance for guaranteed.

It had been so long since Jin could say that a person made him happy. The last few decades, joy had come in fleeting bursts from worldly pleasures and had left him searching. Until she walked in, but the difference between them felt like canyons that Jin could never cross. She was too good, pure, and precious. While Jin walked along the deranged and dirt of the earth.

When he realized the her words were true, Jin’s tears flowed. Despite their differences, he always hoped they would be like the love stories that are so common. Lovers from different worlds that end up creating a beauty all their own.

Jin would be determined to make this relationship work. Right from the get-go he would be ready to change habits in his life to ensure that he could stay with his light.

Italy – Luciano had felt the woman of his dreams was above his station. An impossible dream meant to be indulged in the quiet hours of the morning, and yet here it was. His fantasy becoming a reality with the bright rays of the morning light. Luciano was quick to capture her lips within his own, almost as a way for him to confirm that this was not a dream.

Luciano may be smoother than butter, but even he can catch feelings. Wanting for someone that he believes that he could never have is torture. He never meant for his heart to be caught and now that it was, he had been fantasizing about them. Their words caught him off guard, it made him wonder if he was still home, lost in the throws of the land of dreams.

The kiss would not last long, but the break wouldn’t either. With a confirmation of reality, Luciano will turn up the charm and continue the kisses.

Romano – Fabrizio didn’t register that he yelled out a yes until he heard her melodious giggles. He blushed and tried to recover from his outburst, but he failed as he joined her in a chorus of laughter.

This drama king’s scream would cause the birds to panic and the rabbits to run. As much as he loves her and has gotten to know her, he would be shocked by her confession. Her purity would make him doubt that he had any chance with her. So, before the confession, he was content to just be with her.

After confession, Fabrizio would make her his number one model and do all he can to make her even more beautiful. He would love her natural beauty, obviously, but to be given the opportunity to make his angel more lustrous than the moon would be something he could never turn down.

Germany – Without a second thought Luther kissed her. He had been wanting this for so long and why not celebrate.

Luther would have been flirting around to get his mind off his sweetheart. His heart would ache because of the dark thoughts telling him, he had no chance. It would have lead to him feeling empty and tried. He was shocked when she confessed, because he thought he didn’t deserve her. He flirted with others, but he guessed she saw through him.

In the same moment he was shocked, he reacted. He put all his longing and happiness into that kiss. Luther wanted her to know that he was hers and that she would get everything he had to offer.

Luther would not leave her that night. He would spend all the time he had with her, talking about how happy he was they were together. How sorry and stupid he was for flirting with others in front of her. They would share laughs and end the night cuddling.

Prussia – Wilhelm nodded. He wasn’t sure why, but he could not form the words to say, “me too.” Though judging by her smile, Wilhelm guessed that she understood too.

Though quiet, Wilhelm can be further shocked into silence. The phrase “I love you” was one he rarely even heard between him and his family. To hear it from this angel, it caused his vocal cords to seize. He wanted nothing more than to offer prayers of gratitude to his God. Despite his fallen state, and her purity, Wilhelm had been blessed with her love.

Wilhelm would not be able to talk for a bit after. He would be so happy and allow his lover to do all the talking. Once he could control his vocal cords, Wilhelm would ask if it would be okay to take her out for a date. With the start of their courtship assured, Wilhelm would then bask in her presence.

Japan – Kurai may not have smiled, but there was something in his eyes and his posture that showed joy.

Kurai knew that he had blood staining his hands, and he did not want to tarnish his blossom. It would bring him shame to even think about taking her light and turning it dark. Yet, Kurai could not stop his mind from wondering what her lips felt like and what she was like in her most tender moments. Their distance hurt, but he could only hope of one day gaining the confidence to over come it.

With her confession Kurai felt a weight leave his shoulders. Maybe he could find joy in this life. Maybe it came from falling in love with her. Though he doesn’t show much emotion, Kurai shows it in actions. He will hold her hand so tenderly in that moment and look upon her with eyes full of love.

[return-of-a-space-cowboy]

Yandere halloween ask yandere mad scientist! Bruno uses mind control chip to get darling to be the perfect spouse?

This ask right here made my mouth froth, I love Stepford wives so this ask just rolled along perfectly. Anyway enjoy!

This love

(Yandere mad scientist Bruno X female reader)

You had always thought so highly of Dr Buccirati, you were his apprentice after all but there were times that you thought he just went a little too far with his work and this was one of them.

As he explained to you about how he made a chip that could modify an animal's behaviour. How the chip was planted in the rat's brain that you were holding.

"See (Y/n), look at how tame she is now" he said as he petted the poor creature's head.

"What do you intend to do with what you have learnt?" You asked with anger in your words.

"I intend to have the chip used to help with the conservation of the many animals that are close to being extinct. The animals will have the procedure and be put into captivity, they'll have no more issues with stress or aggressive behaviours which allows for them to be safely cared for and less risk during the reproduction cycle" he explained.

"So what you are saying is that you're going to be suppressing their natural survival instincts so they become domesticated?" You asked with a bitter taste on your tongue.

"That's exactly it, they'll have a safe place to repopulate and have nothing to worry about" he answered as he expressed his delight but it only made you grit your teeth in anger.

"I'm disgusted by what you are doing! You're essentially performing a lobotomy on these poor animals! You're playing god and taking away the emotions of a living creature!" You yelled at him.

"I've helped you work on some crazy things before… but I cross the line here!" You continued as you put the rat down in her cage before folding your arms at Bruno.

"Come on (y/n), you're overreacting… what I'm, no what we are working on is going to change history. So many species will be saved from becoming extinct. we will be two of the greatest scientific minds the world has ever know" he held your shoulder and lightly massaged it as he tried to convince you that there was no wrong in it.

"I don't know why you insist that this is a joint effort but I don't want anything to do with it, if people figure out how it works then it won't be long before this is used on humans… how many corrupt governments do you think would love to have this kind of technology used on their own people?" You rebuttal.

you glared at Bruno as you could see his usually calm demeanor wearing thin. He had his hands gripping his short black locks.

"(Y/n) the truth is that I love you, more than I could love anyone else. I want you to be by my side and I want you to be my equal…" he as his grip on you grew tighter.

"You are so intelligent and so beautiful… I just want you to do your best" he continued.

You pulled away the male with a shocked expression plastered on your face.

"Bruno… I didn't know you felt that way about me but I'm afraid I don't share the same feelings, I just don't think the chemistry is there between us" you told him before you headed to your bedroom.

🧪🧪🧪

You had decided you needed to cut ties from Bruno and finally begin your own work. You don't think anything could keep you working with him now. You began to pack your clothes back into your suitcase.

"(Y/n) are you planning on leaving now?" He asked as he rested himself against the door frame, he seemed to have recollected himself but to you something was off about his almost carefree tone.

"I intend to leave tomorrow" you said as you sat on your bed and folded your clothing.

"Don't you think you're blowing this out of proportion, can't we put the breaks on just talk about this over some tea..." he said as he slowly drew closer to you.

"I understand that you're upset and I didn't make things much better" he continued calmly before violently grabbing your hand causing you to fall back onto the bed before you heard a metallic click. You screamed as you tried to pull your hand back to find it was handcuffed to the head of the bed.

"What the hell?!" You screamed at Bruno who was now on top of you.

"I'm sorry that it had to come to this but I can't let you leave" he said.

"I love you too much to let you go… you're too good for this world" he continued.

You felt your stomach twist horribly and your vocal cords seize up. Your eyes were wide with horror.

"I dealt with my unrequited love for so long, I tried to just to put my feelings aside for you but I feel like if I keep it up any longer I'll explode" he rambled you tried to push him with your free hand but he was quick to hold it down.

🧪🧪🧪

It had been a month since he'd locked you up. You were curled up with your knees to your chest, you could see every little mark he'd ever left on your body, you still felt the sting that each love bite left on your skin. Today was cold and the chain and cuff around your ankle made it worse as you shivered in a silk nightgown.

You flinched as you heard the front door open. You had hoped that maybe that was anyone but Bruno, someone that could free you from this place. You heard a pair of footsteps draw closer, your hope dying as the same pattern tore into your brain… you knew he was home.

"(Y/n) I'm home" his voice was cheerful as he opened the door.

"I'm sorry I was later than usual… I found so many things I thought you'd like" he explained as he walked in with a large bag in his hand before placing it on the bed. You were hesitant to look but his sapphire eyes stared at you in anticipation, making your skin crawl.

You grabbed the bag and the first thing you pulled out was a 50s style white and black polka dotted dress. You looked at Bruno with a forced smile on your face.

"Bruno this is really nice but I've never really been a fan of dresses" you told him. He didn't respond. You pulled out another similar dress before picking out various boxes with golden jewelry till there was one more box inside, however it was rectangular in shape unlike the others. You pulled it out only to gasp in horror as you gazed upon the packaging of a pregnancy test. You looked back at him.

At this point you knew something was wrong, your stomach was telling you.

"What's going on?" You asked him with shakey words.

"I just need you to take it" he responded.

"Why?" 

"I need to know whether or not you're pregnant, it's urgent"

"Urgent, what's urgent?!" You yelled at him.

"You're being extremely vague, it's scaring me" you replied, unsure of what was so urgant. You really hoped you weren't, having to live knowing your child was of his blood.

"Just take it please, wouldn't you like to know as well?" He begged.

You had a bad feeling about this but if you knew now then you could try to do something about it if it did come back positive. You let out a defeated sigh as you unboxed the test.

"See you didn't need to make such a big deal about it dear" he said in a light hearted tone as he walked towards the bed and unlocked the shackle on your leg and allowed you to go to the bathroom.

You felt the relief wash over you as you saw the results. It was negative, perhaps you were getting yourself all worked up.

"(Y/n) dearest, what's the results?" Bruno asked from outside the bathroom door. You opened it and showed him, his eyes lit up with joy as he hugged you which was very odd indeed, you assumed he'd had baby fever… if that was the case shouldn't he be disappointed.

You recoiled as you felt a sharp jab on the inner side of your elbow. You saw the now empty syringe in his hand.

"What are you doing?!" You screamed as you stumbled back from his grasp. He looked at the syringe and let out a content hum before his eyes returned to you.

He contemplated on whether he should tell you or not but at this point you couldn't do anything to stop him so there was no point in hiding it.

"I remember back on the night you tried to leave fondly, in hindsight you gave me the most brilliant idea" he explained.

"That whole talk on how my chip could work on humans was really inspiring, so I'm going to do just that… if you won't love me like this, then I can just make you love me" he continued as a smile grew on his lips.

The shock hit you as he explained it all, it horrified you to imagine it. It shook you to the very core. Everything else seemed like a luxury in comparison to losing everything.

"Bruno, please don't do this! I love you so much!" You screamed as you draped your body over him.

"My dear I love you so much… I'll stay with you forever… I'll give you as many children as you want, please oh please don't do this!" You were practically sobbing as you tried to pull on his strings.

"I'll do anything for you, anything at all!" You continued as you felt everything becoming numb, he had you in his hands and he could do anything he wanted to you.

"Please Bruno, we can put this all behind us and start over… you never imprisoned me, you never did those things to me… we can be the happiest couple!" You pleaded to him as your eyelids grow heavy.

"Please… please… I won't be the same person you feel in love with if you do this…" your screams turned into a mutter and as you tried to fight off the deep abyss of unconsciousness you swore you could see a glimpse of your whole life with every slow blink.

🧪🧪🧪

"What you've made is amazing Bruno, you should be proud of your work" the man in front of Bruno complimented his work.

"Thank you sir, to be honest I wouldn't be here showing you this if it wasn't for my wonderful wife" he said as he beamed with joy.

"Oh, your wife must be an amazing woman to help you" the man replied.

"Yes she is. She always gave me the right idea when I was unsure, she'd be here with us right now if it weren't for the upcoming baby. She's just been so ecstatic about it since we found out" he stated as he had his head in his hand. He was over the moon with joy, he couldn't talk to someone without bringing up the fact that he was going to be a father soon.

"Oh congratulations, how long till it's due?" The male congratulated him.

"Oh it's close, we're expecting around October… It's hard to imagine that I'll be a father in two months"

"And how's the lucky lady feeling about this? My wife was pretty worried before our first" he asked.

"Oh she's been great, she's been taking it all in stride. I haven't seen her sick or having any mood swings like what most of us tend to expect" Bruno chuckled as he slumped back into his chair.

"We should probably get back on topic… I should probably explain how these chips work in detail"

[bakatenshii]

Rapture

Oikawa Tooru x Reader (Haikyuu!!)

word count: 2.8k

TW: 18+, smut, incest, dub/noncon, mild somnophilia

A/N: I started writing this in my notes bcos I wanted to get out a cheeky Oikawa drabble for his birthday, didn’t wanna commit to a proper fic bcos fuck knows I’ve been writing my first ever fic for over a month. Technically this is my first official fic I finished! So much love for my wife @blahkugo for listening to me sob and whine about this & beta-ing it, also to @lookslikeleese who created this brainchild of Tooru-nii with me. 

rap·ture

/ˈrapCHər/

a feeling of intense pleasure or joy.

(according to some millerian teaching) the transporting of believers to heaven at the Second Coming of Christ

Blood is thicker than water, in all forms and shapes and sizes. The guilt of blood lays thicker, sweaty and clammy, threatening to matte his perfectly coiffed hair. The guilt lies limp on his childhood bed, delicate legs dangling just a hair away from toeing the carpet.

You couldn’t reach when you were younger, he’d always help you down with all the gentleness of a protective mother and its cub. Long slender fingers tucking under your armpits to lift you from his stiff mattress to stand you on the soft carpeting.

Guilt, in the form of his baby sister laying vulnerability-up, presenting to him in taunt, as if it’s a gift from Satan himself. You won’t know, will never know, It promises. You’re out cold, too many cups of trashy house-party drinks in, your night was bound to end up like this one way or another— exposed and defenseless in a man’s bed. You should be lucky it’s your own big brother’s.

He curses himself for still having been awake when you called him at half four in the morning, curses himself for staying up studying tapes of his opposing team. Bad habits die hard. You were loopy, slurring your words, and all he could hear were the warm familiar sound of ‘niichan, niichan’ tinkling through the static. He had the keys clanking in his hands before he even registered the other voices across the line; deep, low, predatory— of men.

The drive there felt like a blur, tunnel visioning only on the number plate you’d sloppily sent him three times, each varying in one digit. It wasn’t even the right address, it didn’t match your location on his phone.

He saw crowds, loud bass reverberating through to his sleek car that stuck out like a sore thumb amidst the sea of beat-up sedans and trucks. He saw limbs, too many limbs, entangling together in a frenzy of sweat and lust; limbs on curves and humps of silhouettes, limbs on your small frame leaning into the corner of the dimly lit room. Then he saw red.

He couldn’t hear the shouts and hollers of his name, crazed fangirls pawing at him for an autograph, a picture, any type of affection from The Oikawa Tooru himself, international volleyball superstar with too many sponsorships under his belt. He reached out an arm towards you, and you clung to him like a magnetic pull, whole body suctioning onto his and tittering out a string of ‘niichan came to pick me up’ and a fit of giggles.

His first conscious breath was taken once he got you in his car. He didn’t want to look at you, didn’t want to assess the damages lest he drove his car straight into the dastardly party if he saw any hint of protrusion. He didn’t; you were fine. You seemed fine, too. You were all-too happy to see him, bragged to him ‘I bet them that you would come pick me up if I called you.’

You told him you missed him, ‘missed niichan so much, he never even bothered to call when he came back to Japan’. Tooru sighed, half part relief, half part guilt. He told you he couldn’t bring you back to his hotel, had to bring you home, because imagine the scandal if he got papped.

It was a lie, he couldn’t give a damn if he got papped, he could easily have explained that it was his own sister; he couldn’t give himself up to the safety of his own enclosed room. His room with no security net of Mum and Dad threatening to barge in, his room where he was free to do whatever he wanted.

He drove you home.

You begged him to pick you up and carry you upstairs, because your feet hurt, they’re so sore from dancing all night. He complied, using all his decade-molded muscles to pull you into his chest and his heart sank to his gut at the realization that you weighed like nothing to him; just like you had when you were younger.

You were bigger now, grown, an adult, but he had grown all the same. It was like a cruel joke— no matter how much you grew, he’d parallel your growth so he would always be just that much stronger than you, that much bigger. The perfect size to protect you. The perfect size to hurt you.

He was directed to his own room rather than yours, with the excuse that yours was too close to the master bedroom, too risky to wake your parents up. His feet moved before his mind could stop him, muscle memory bringing him to the space he’s barely stepped foot in since he was eighteen.

It was too familiar, whole body transcending back to his childhood, back to the innocence of your relationship before he’s tainted it with his twisted perversions. His arms laid you down on his bed, hands finding the straps of your heels to pick off before you thumped back onto his bed, sprawled out and fast asleep.

He’s been staring at your vulnerable placid silhouette splayed on his bed for what feels like minutes, hours. He can’t bring himself to tuck you in, can’t trust his limbs to function how he instructs them to. His skin crawls at the gust of wind kissing the sweat embalming his body, but he doesn’t let himself strip off the suffocating layers. He wants to bask in the physical manifestation of his disgust, nausea, let it remind him of his twisted perversions he can never, ever indulge in.

You shiver, and he jumps. Your tiny body is quivering in chills, begging him to warm it up. He moves with the grace and caution of a robber on the prowl for an expensive jewel, gently snaking his arms under the crook of your knee and top of your spine, lifting you up and away from him like he’s terrified— disgusted, by you.

He lifts the covers and daintily drapes it over the small rise and fall of your chest, pinching the top with only two fingers. A deep breath, a moan, a soft ‘niichan’, and he thinks his heart has stopped completely.

He’s frozen, the hammering in his chest arguing that no, he’s still very much alive, and spares a glance down at you. Your eyelids are fluttering, lips softly pouting, and unmistakably still asleep. He’s mid sigh of relief when he feels a small hand wrap around his arm, and for the second time that night he thinks he’s died.

All the gravity weighing him down disappears as he lets himself be tugged down onto the bed, the weight of his body crushing your tiny one, but he can’t bring himself to move. He’s too scared, he’s horrified.

He can feel two dainty arms loop around his neck and cage his head into the side of your face. He can feel the palpitations in his chest, heart hammering straight into yours, tangling with your soft cadenced beats, reaching in and provoking it to waltz to the same fatal rhythm. He can feel his trousers strain and his blood run cold.

Deep breaths to the count of the tick and tocking of the clock on the wall. He feels blurry, vision blotchy, skin prickling with every flood of blood traveling south. He wills it to stop, begs for it to spare him, he’ll behave, he’ll never let his mind wonder to you ever again, he promises.

God is all merciful, but God has long given up on him. Satan wants to watch his world burn, collapse, and dance in the ashes of his crumbling dignity. It teases him with the hilt of your soft body moving to press into his, crawling into his arms caging you in, willfully entering the den holding a ravenous lion fighting its own fangs.

Your eyes flutter open, gaze finding his with striking precision, and smile. It’s the same smile you’ve given him his whole life, the trust and love carved into every quirk of the lip. It shatters his dignity, stomps on it with childish fervor, and Tooru chokes on the breath coming out.

He feels you nuzzling closer, can feel your hair tickling his chin, and prays for forgiveness to any God willing to listen. None do— he’s too far gone. His hand’s reaching to cradle the back of your head as he plants the softest kiss on your cheek with all the practiced grace of a man begging for salvation.

Your eyes stare straight into his with undeterred conviction, glazed over with equal parts alcoholic daze and pure, unadulterated adoration. There’s not enough oxygen traveling to his brain to justify his actions, no amount of repentance would excuse his sins. His lips press into yours, so gently it feels like a mere ghost of breath, quivering in prayers for forgiveness.

A shift; small warm body squirming under his arms, shuffling closer. It catches the tent between his legs, and his whole body twitches like it’s been stung. He barely chokes down the whimper that threatens to come out.

He can feel your hands locking behind his hair, pulling your body infinitely closer to his, smushing your soft tits into his hard chest as he feels the breath sucked out of him by the Devil himself. There’s no more feigned chastity, all abstinence launched aside as he feels a little tongue prod at his lips. They open to let yours in, sucking on it as if it’ll bring his very breath back.

He doesn’t let himself wonder if it’s okay, he knows it’s not; it’s wrong, so wrong, on so many levels. He’s given up trying to please a Holy deity, Satan can take him whole if it means he can ravish in his sick twisted fantasies. He slots a leg between yours, letting the two pairs tangle and waltz to the symphony of your matching heartbeats, finally synching in a virulent tempo.

Breaths turn to pants, turn to unmistakable moans, and Tooru has to pull back to clamp a hand over your mouth in warning. The imagery of his long slender fingers covering more than half your face sends jolts down his body at the same time he realizes it’s him whining out so desperately.

He looks back at your face, beady, glassy, needy eyes peering back at him in sheer devotion, and he shuts his eyes in pure agony as his heart clenches in pangs of guilt, while his adulterous cock twitches in revelation. The warm soft breaths fan his palm, lips puckering underneath to peck softly at his fingers in hopes of escape; he thinks he might cum untouched.

His hand yanks back in shock, in horror, in disgust. But your hands clasped firmly behind hair pulls him back in, and he whispers out a prayer before a soft, “We can’t.” His eyes bore into yours, begging for mercy, begging you to let him go so he can suffer for his sins.

You don’t respond, not immediately. He feels his face pulled into yours and a distinct moisture building up on his thigh wedged between your much smaller legs. Wet— the suction on his tongue, the grinding on his leg, everything’s wet, and damp, and he thinks his mind might be drowning.

He can hear whines, pitched in desperation, and he’s certain they’re from you this time. His arm moves to grip at your hips, cupping your supple mound to shift it up the sheets and press your cunny against his straining erection. His hips buck on instinct, grazing the drooling slit covered only by a thin piece of cotton.

His mind goes blank, vision patching, and it’s too fast, too much, “please, Tooru-nii”— he’s crying. There’s tears stinging the corners of his eyes while he chokes out a string of ‘no, no, no’. He can’t slow the erratic humps against his lil sister’s cunt, the fingers digging into your hips marking you with patches of blooming purple and green, ‘I love you, niichan’.

It’s a knee-jerk reaction; he yanks his body back, takes sharp inhales of breath, until he can open his eyes to look at you again. Panic and nausea coat his tongue where it once tasted like you, but he’s met with the same look of pure adoration you gave him before he tainted your body with sin.

He realizes your hands are still straining to reach the back of his neck where they were before he wrenched his body away. They’re laying gently on his shoulders, twirling lazily at the strands of his hair curling around the base. Tears are flowing down his cheeks, or maybe it’s one single continuous tear, and his body is wracked with guilty desperation.

There’s no malice in your expression, no accusatory anger, and most of all, no disgust. Your face is painted with bliss, and joy, and love— Tooru snaps.

He’s pushing your shoulders back until they meet his singular pillow, and crawls down to nest in the space between your thighs. Large palms hook under your knees and push back until they touch your shoulders, and he moans when he sees your arms reach out to hook them in place obediently.

He wants to cherish this moment, burn the image into his brain for years to come, however many he’s spared, but his loins burn with years of yearning. He grants himself one glance at your tiny frame spread open for him, revels in the sheer devotion in your eyes, and plunges his face into the drenched cotton covering your core.

You moan out his name in a wanton reaction as he inhales your sweet toxins like he’s trying to drown— he is, he has no reason to live past this moment he sins, no right to live as he indulges in his sick perversions.

He can feel each shake and tremor of your thighs above his head as he sucks and licks at the soaked cotton, rendered nothing but an useless scrap now. Each suck is paired with a deep whine, echoing through his now-barren room. With one swift move he pulls off your panties and let it dangle between your ankles hanging above your bodies. Slick lines drip from the wet rag, stretching to connect back to your drooling pussy.

Five seconds— that’s how long he allows himself to marvel at your leaking slit, lips pink and puckered around the clenching hole. His cockhead drenches through his pants, so painfully hard a soft breath could send him tumbling over.

But he doesn’t allow himself to touch it, it’s not about him; it’s about you. Your devotion, mercy— your sheer, unadulterated, unwavering love for him. It’s about you; you deserve the best, you deserve it all, you deserve someone that’s not him.

He licks up, tongue flat, and slowly follows the dip between your folds until he suctions onto your swollen bud. His lips give it a soft peck, before wrapping around it and enclosing it in the hot heat of his mouth.

He has half a mind to snake his hand up to clamp over your mouth, stop the loud moans and sobs from coming out, but each wail shoots jolts of arousal straight to his leaking dick; he can’t bring himself to shut it down, despite how good you look with his long fingers wrapped around your face.

With every long lap, he pulls more cries out of you, and by the time he prods his tongue into your needy hole, you’re clenching down on him, sucking back on the muscle. You’re close, he can feel it. His tongue fucks into you without any of the mercy you’ve graced him, hips rutting into the bedsheet in tangent to your growing squeals.

The palpitations hammering in his heart synchronizes with the pulse of your cunt, weaving into a fatal rondo before everything stops; his hips, your cries, the air closes in on your writhing bodies as he paints his pants in shame and sin.

He allows his peripherals to roam your body; thighs indented with tiny crescents by your dainty fingers, mouth agape with your cute pink tongue lolling out— he swallows down his guilt, letting it scorch his insides before coating his cock threatening to twitch back to life.

He watches your hands drop down from their determined grip, thumping lightly as they hit his bed. He gingerly folds your legs back onto the flat surface before dipping down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead. He can feel your arms shake in attempt to reach out and cuddle him in, but give out to fatigue.

Your eyes flutter closed, lips molding back to that soft smile ever-present in his presence, and he thinks he hears a faint whisper of, ‘I love you, Tooru-nii.’

Placid, limp, he watches as your body loses energy and drains into the mattress below. It slaps him in the face, presents him with a trophy, a golden star stamped with a big fat ‘Sin’ calligraphed on. His world collapses around him, buries him in the debris of his crumbled dignity, and the Devil dances.

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Veritaserum Prompt Fic (Part 8)

(Do you ever just stare at something until you hate it? I've definitely done that with the chapter. Oof. You can read the nsfw, extended cut on AO3. Also, this is part 8, so if you haven't read the other parts, you might want to start over on AO3.)

---------

"I don't like this," Harry hissed at Hermione as he watched the aurors at the Ministry putting Draco in handcuffs.

She sighed, "I know you don't."

"They don't have to do that," he said, "He's not going to run." Draco's face twisted in pain as they wrenched his arms, "Careful," he growled, stepping toward them. "You don't have to hurt him-"

"Harry-" Hermione interrupted.

But Draco beat her to the punch, "It's alright," he said, his eyes holding Harry's. "It's alright," he added softly with a nod before the Aurors shoved him toward the doors where the holding cells were.

Instinctively he took a step to follow but Hermione grabbed his elbow, "Harry," she said in exasperation.

"I don't trust them," he said, turning around to glower at her. "I shouldn't have brought him-"

"Harry," she snapped, "Listen to me," she took his elbow and led him over to the side of the room. "You have no idea what I had to do to get us here, to get them to agree to giving him a trial at all, let alone to get them to give him a trial when he was a fugitive."

"But-"

"I have every precaution in place," she continued, "I have a solid case, and I have stellar record in the court."

"It's not you I don't trust," he protested, "it's the Ministry-"

(Read more below the cut)

She shook her head, "I know. But this is the only way and we both know it." He frowned and she continued, "You need to stop being irrational about this. I know that Draco Malfoy has always gotten under your skin and made you ignore your better judgement but you have to stop listening to him-"

"He's the reason we're here," he said bluntly. "I wanted to stay but he insisted I bring him back. If I hadn't listened to him we'd be eating lunch on the beach and I'd be ordering lemon trees,” he told her, heart twisting painfully at the thought.

She blinked at him then whispered, "Oh, Harry," in that soft, pitying way of hers like she'd just realized exactly what this was about. "You're in love with him."

He nodded miserably.

Hermione sighed and took his hand, "We're going to win."

"I hope you're right."

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

They were not going to win.

Harry could feel it in his gut, he could see it on the faces of the members of the Wizengamot as they heard testimonies, as they heard the cases both for and against Draco.

And Draco knew it, too. He sat next to Hermione, back ramrod straight, face carefully blank but Harry could see it in his eyes. The defeat, the acceptance.

When the speaker stood to read the sentencing, Harry's body coiled itself like a spring.

He read the list of charges against Draco and after each he pronounced, "We find the defendant, Draco Lucius Malfoy guilty."

Hermione sat with her jaw dropped in outrage and Harry wished that he could have been even half as surprised as she was at the outcome.

"For these crimes," the speaker continued, "The court sentences Draco Lucius Malfoy to a life sentence in Azkaban prison."

The court room erupted into a flurry of movement, cameras clicking and people talking as they made notes, the aurors started toward Draco and Harry knew he only had a matter of seconds before it was too late.

He stood and vaulted himself over the gate that kept the people watching the trial from those conducting it.

"Oy!" one of the aurors shouted at him but he ignored them and sprinted over to Draco.

"Harry-" Draco started.

"Do you trust me?" Harry asked.

"Of course,” he said without hesitation. “What-" Draco began but that was all he got out before Harry was grasping his elbow and apparating them out of the Ministry. The wards around the court room and ministry itself cracked and shattered like glass as he broke through them, imagining wrapping Draco in extra shields of protection as he did.

When he landed on the beach he was breathless, his body felt battered and sore but they weren't in that court anymore and the relief of being home was sharp and sweet.

"What did you do?" Draco gasped as he dropped to his knees next to him. "Are you alright?" he asked, voice tinged with panic. "Harry."

"Fine," he nodded. "Just winded."

"Then," Draco shoved him, "what. did. you. do?"

"What I had to," he panted, letting his head drop back in the sand as he tried to catch his breath and waited for the pain to subside. "I couldn't let them," he broke off, shaking his head and drawing in another breath, wincing as his rib cage expanded painfully.

"You-" Draco shook his head, "You complete and utter idiot! Take me back! You have to take me back," he said, looking around desperately.

"Never!" Harry protested, standing on wobbly legs. "I told you it wasn't fair. I told you they weren't going to give you a fair trial."

"Harry," the other man repeated, voice shaking as he reached out a trembling hand, "You can't."

"I can," he argued. "I literally just did."

"You have to take me back," Draco begged. "They'll never stop looking for me, they'll burn everything to the ground until they find me."

"They'll never find us here," he replied. "And if they do," he shrugged, "We'll go somewhere else. Hell, I'll start building it now and we'll have a place to take vacations."

"Do you hear yourself?" Draco asked, throwing his hands in the air. "Circe, Harry," he cursed. "What were you thinking?"

He stormed up toward the house knowing that Draco would follow, "What was I thinking? That I couldn't let you spend the rest of your life trapped in a dark, dingy cell with dementors sucking up any shred of joy you might ever think to feel!" Harry slammed the door open, "I was thinking that I couldn't imagine you trapped away from the sunlight, not when I've seen the way you soak up the sun on the beach. I was thinking that I couldn't let all of your gifts go to waste while you rotted away in a cell!" he hollered as he made his way to the bathroom and pulled out a pepper-up potion.

Draco was silent but Harry could feel the weight of Draco's eyes on him as he swallowed the pepper-up potion and ran himself a glass of water. Finally Draco said, "It's not that I'm not grateful, Harry. Salazar knows that I don't want to spend the rest of my life in Azkaban."

"Then why-"

"Think about it!" he exclaimed. "What kind of life are you giving yourself?"

"Don't I get a choice?" Harry asked, taking a step closer to him, "What about what I want?"

Draco shook his head, "You can't possibly want this! You are letting your compulsive need to save people ruin your life. Again."

The words sliced through Harry's core, gutting him. "That's not fair," he whispered.

"Life isn't fair!" he argued. "You know that better than most people. And you can't possibly want to spend the rest of your life away from your family and friends, away from the world you gave up everything to save."

"It's my choice," he replied stubbornly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I don't want you to play the martyr for me." Draco tugged at his hair in frustration, "I'm telling you that I'm not worth it!"

"I'm in love with you!" Harry finally shouted, all of the fear and adrenaline that he'd kept bottled up inside all morning exploded out of him.

The other man stared at him blankly for a long moment. "What?"

"I am in love with you," he said again.

He shook his head, "You stubborn, wonderful, perfect idiot," he whispered before he threw himself at Harry.

Their bodies and mouths crashed against one another, sharp teeth and tongues, and Harry clenched his fingers in Draco's shirt to drag him even closer. "Draco," he groaned into his mouth as his hands sought more of him, grasping desperately, tugging Draco's shirt from where it was tucked in his trousers so his fingers could slide along the smooth skin of Draco's back.

"Harry," he whimpered, like his name was a prayer. He tipped his head back and Harry's fingers dug into the flesh on his back as his lips and teeth covered Draco's jaw and neck. He arched into Harry, his fingers sliding into his hair as he held him close.

"Please," Harry begged into the soft, warm skin of Draco's neck.

Draco nodded, "Yes. Circe, yes. Harry," he breathed again and surely Harry had never heard his name before this moment because it had never sounded like that. It had never sounded like wonder, and desire, and acceptance before.

"There's no going back from this," Harry said, drawing back to search Draco's face. "You're mine from here on out," he said.

"And you're mine," Draco whispered, brushing his hand over Harry's cheek, thumb rubbing his temple.

"Yours," he promised, relief surging through him at the thought of belonging to the other man. "Yours," he whispered again, cupping Draco's face and kissing him softly, tenderly; pouring out all of the fear of loss, all of the longing, all of the things he'd kept trapped inside.

Draco drew back far enough to let them breathe and look at one another, "I hear you," he whispered.

A chill ran through Harry's entire body as he allowed the facade he'd built to protect himself dissolve, slipping off until there wasn't anything left. Willing Draco to see him, to know him.

"Harry," Draco breathed, his eyes searching for a long moment, "Mine," he whispered again, somehow still uncertain.

"Yours," he vowed, "From now until forever."

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

(If you enjoy smut and are 18+, you can read the rest of this chapter on AO3. If not, feel free to stop here! You won't miss any plot.)

[kodzukyan]

the long way home (to you)

notes: happy belated birthday, rissa! cheers to our tokrev momster, the baby of group therapy, and the light of my life!! words can’t describe how much joy you bring to my life, and i’m thankful every day for you. thank you for putting up with all the dumb shit i say on the daily HAHA. i love you so much. 🥺💖 @seishue (also thank you to annette and ilayda for putting up with me as i overthink every thing HAHA 🥺) 

summary: the concept of home redefined through the years. - kokonui

wc: 1.6k

Home is an abstract concept, but it’s something Koko has always been able to define.

At eight, it was sitting in Seishu’s room and the sound of pencils scribbling on summer homework as the air conditioner hummed through the silence. At eight, it was the sound of his laughter as Seishu pouts about summer homework. At eight, it was Akane with her golden hair and sky-blue eyes as she brings in barley tea and snack cakes. At eight, it was the warmth that blooms in his chest as his heart thunders excitedly and recklessly at the sight of Akane’s pretty smiles and playful teasing.

At eight, it was the sound of fire crackling and tearing through the home he knew.

(All he sees is the painted reds and oranges of fire, burning, burning, burning through home as he knows it.

He runs into the fire anyway because he promised. He will save her, save love as he knows it. As if he’s running on autopilot, he just bulldozes through the building of burning wood and flaming memories because he purely has one end goal. He runs, runs, runs, and finally sees her, sees the promise he vowed to protect.

He doesn’t think because all he cares about is Akane, his promise, and he grabs her and runs. He sighs in relief as they make it. As he breathes in the fresh air, he sees light blue eyes staring right back at him, too light to be paired with the soft smile that flutters his heart, and he feels like he can’t breathe. He stares vacantly at Seishu, and as pain reflects back from his blue eyes, Koko hates himself for feeling upset that he saved his best friend instead of his sister.

His eyes drift from downcast eyes to the blazing building, and his heart stops. He’s breathing, but his body is frozen and his mind is dazed. The forbidding feeling in his chest swells into a looming shadow, and he feels crushed as it devours him whole.)

At eight, home burns. All he’s left with is Seishu’s hand clutching his as they stand in a white room. The love of his life laid still, and the steady beep of the heart monitor drowns out their cries.

-----

At fifteen, home was found through crimes and bonds built through money and blood. At fifteen, it was wistful thinking and forcing the image of Akane onto his best friend, hoping, praying that she will still smile at him all the same. But she doesn’t because all he recognizes is Seishu and his steady eyes as he looks forward. In contrast, Koko feels increasingly aware that he was the only one running in circles with no destination.

Seishu has constantly seen him, always looked at him as him. And despite conventional belief, while he still detects traces of Akane, he sees Seishu too. He cherishes him too, in a different way than how he loved Akane, in a way that reminds him that love is steady.

He loves Seishu in a way that he will always, always choose him. Like the consistent beat of his heart, love flows softly, tenderly, subtly. Unlike the blazing flutters of his heart he felt with Akane, it's more like the stars that twinkle night after night. With Seishu, he doesn’t have to be the Koko who exclusively knows how to break things and make money. With Seishu, he can completely just be Koko. A gentle lull, rest stop, a stronghold against the world where he doesn’t have to run, where he can finally sleep.

Seishu deserves better, though. He deserves someone who isn’t chasing after the image of a dead girl while being half in love with him. He deserves someone who isn’t running in circles, both mentally and emotionally. He deserves someone who loves him fully instead of his half-baked feelings that grow and surface with every moment, but he refuses to acknowledge.

(Because if he does, what will he have left? Who is he without money and his feelings for the one who commenced it all?

He’s a little more lost than found, so he just keeps on running, running, running in hopes to discover some answers, to finally reach somewhere he can just be.

(He doesn't know how to stop.)

Somehow, he thinks Seishu knows all along anyway with the way he still squeezes his hand and looks at him like he’s still worth it. He still enables him to lean in and tuck himself in between the crook of his neck and breathe in the scent of home.)

But home, Koko thinks, becomes a little more undefined when they part ways. Because he can no longer protect Seishu, who keeps on going and facing forwards while he’s still stuck on a repeated loop. Because he knows he’s gripping Seishu back from growing and becoming someone who can take on the world.

(Because he loves him.)

So, he lets go of home and wonders since when did it become so cold without Seishu’s hand holding his.

-----

At eighteen, he is completely lost. The sight of Akane’s smiling is long gone and the warmth of Seishu’s hand in his has gone cold. The looming shadow that has been following him is always ready to overtake him, but he fights on anyway because he has to see it through.

(See what through? He doesn’t know exactly.)

Ironically, it has incessantly been the bleakest moments when Seishu appears beside him. He’s still running loops on repeat, but he thinks an alternative path opens up when Seishu extends his hand out. He wants to take it, wants to altogether stop running because he’s so tired.

“Koko.” Seishu prompts as he holds his hand out, “I’ll give you half of my burdens, so give me half of yours too.”

He grasps Seishu’s hand, and Seishu pulls him up. Koko leans into the crook of Seishu’s neck like he did before, and as if all the years of exhaustion finally caught up to him, he cries. He cries for the loss of Akane, cries for the loss of what could have been, cries for the loss of home.

Seishu just stands still and supports him tightly in his arms as he breaks.

“I’m with you.”

He used to think he was the one who supported Seishu, but he thinks he’s been proven time and time again that it’s the opposite way around.

“We don’t talk about this,” Koko sniffles as he leans into Seishu’s hold.

“Okay,” Seishu promises and places a tender kiss on his temple.

Koko has never believed in God. God wasn’t there when he needed him; God still isn’t here when he needs him. But as their bodies press together, limbs tangled and eyes locked, he wonders if this is what heaven feels like.

("Koko," Seishu starts. A conversation that has been lingering in the back of his mind; a conversation that has to be said. He pauses, wandering eyes hesitant to confront black ones before he inhales sharply. "I’m not Akane."

Koko's teasing smile fades, intense eyes meeting crystalline blue ones that are slightly lighter than the girl he loved once. He used to imagine the boy in front of him as his sister, the one he swore he would protect, but he can’t even fathom the thought now. He can see her traces, but he thinks he never desires it to be her anymore. He just wants his best friend, his comfort, his home, him. "I know."

His callous hands reach for Seishu’s burn scar, caressing it gently before he trails down and brushes Seishu’s soft cheek. He cradles it for a moment before he presses his forehead against Seishu’s, softly, fondly. He’s earnest as his eyes staring straight into blue ones, a vulnerability in his gaze. A realization, a truth, something he’s long figured out but didn’t want to admit because he didn’t want to let go of all that he knew.

But he notes the man in front of him now, feels the warmth of his cheek and the softness in his glance, and Koko finally smiles and feels like it’s okay to stop.

“I only see you, Seishu. You, and only you.”)

At eighteen, he comes home after wandering the world, thinking maybe he can ultimately stop his journey to obtain something because he had someone all along.

-----

At twenty-one, home looks a lot like the one from his childhood. A modest one-bedroom apartment with an equally small living room and kitchen, but there’s still the sound of pencils scribbling as Seishu writes down the grocery list and the air conditioner still hums through the summer daze.

Life feels so calm that everything before this moment feels like a fever dream. He wakes up next to Seishu, drinks coffee — black for him, two sugars and heavy on the milk for Seishu — together before they part ways for work or whatever they have for the day. They take turns picking dinner or leave it to the roulette when they can’t decide, and sometimes they go out with their friends for drinks at night.

Within these four walls of the apartment, there are memories immortalized as pictures, and furniture far too expensive for a little place like this. Heels line up in the doorway, name-brand jackets fill the closet, a set of matching silverware picked out together.

A home meant for two, and love blankets every crevice in this small home and his heart.

Home, Koko thinks, perchance is a person all along as he stares at Seishu, who only smiles and holds out his hand as he catches his eyes. Koko reflectively smiles back and laces their fingers together.

“You ready?” Seishu asks, a grocery list in hand and his heart in the other.

“With you? Always,” he responds back with a grin, knowing he equally holds Seishu’s heart too.

Home, Koko thinks, is definitely Seishu all along. 

[ejzah]

A/N: For the Densi car scene sneak peek from the season finale.

***

Finally

Kensi pulled into a random parking lot as soon as she could and turned off the ignition, pressing her cupped hands over her mouth.

“Oh my god…” she murmured, shaking a little bit.

“Baby, are you ok?” Deeks asked. The tears she’d held back while talking to Ms. King came pouring out and she nodded, barely able to speak.

“I’m so happy,” Kensi managed. “I just…” she turned to Deeks, who was equally shiny eyed, and made a useless gesture to encompass the multitude of feelings overwhelming her.

“Oh, Kens, come here.”

Clumsily crawling over the console, Kensi tumbled into his open arms. They were warm, solid, familiar. Exactly what she needed right now. Eeeks stayed silent for a few moments, just letting her be.

“I’m sorry I spoke for both of us,” he said eventually. “I was excited, and panicked, thinking about what would happen if we said no and things got delayed again, but I should have asked you first.” His words came in a rush, voice dropping lower with worry.

“No, Deeks,” Kensi interrupted, laying her hand over his to forestall any further apologies. “I’m not mad or upset. It’s just a lot process.”

“Too much? We can always call Ms. King back and tell her we need more time,” he suggested softly, carefully.

Kensi lifted her head off his shoulder, shifting his jaw enough to cup his jaw. God, she loved him. Even now, when they were so close to what they wanted, he was ready to pull back for her.

“Deeks, I have never been happier and I can’t wait to bring Rosa home. I can’t wait to be a family.”

Deeks let out a soft breath and then he grinned, face filled with relief and joy she hadn’t seen in so long.

“Me either,” he whispered. His fingers slid into her hair and they surged together, kissing one another almost desperately. Kensi pulled back a couple minutes later, breathing fast and hard. She felt almost giddy with happiness.

“We’re bringing a teenager home tonight,” he repeated, expression slightly awed.

“What are we going to do about work?” Kensi asked. “I mean, we kind of planned to take some leave, but not this soon.”

“As soon as we get to the mission, we’ll talk to Kilbride and explain what’s going on.” His hand smoothed down her back in a soothing pattern.

“He’s going to love us so much,” she observed, imagining Kilbride’s unamused expression when they broke the news to him.

“Yeah, he’ll definitely be pissed for a while, but he knew we were pursuing adoption and I think in the long run, he’ll get on board,” Deeks decided. “And either way, we’re going to do whatever’s best for Rosa and us.”

“Definitely,” Kensi agreed. She brushed her thumb across his cheek, leaning in to kiss him more gently. “I love you so much and I love that we’re going to be parents together.”

***

A/N: Kind of floofy.