#i had a split second reaction time how the FUCK did that fish get away.

[forkpigeon3146]

i just fumbled 3 sharks in animal crossing nobody talk to me rn

[nochukoo97]

boyfriend drabbles (pt.27)

pairing: jungkook x reader

summary: the one where you and jungkook go on a pottery date, and eat lots of food later

word count: 1.1k+

taglist!: @imlyfie @jksgirlhere

boyfriend drabbles masterlist!

you’ve been waiting for jungkook’s schedule to clear up to finally be able to go on a date with him, more specifically a pottery date that you’ve been telling him about.

“baby, i’m so excited,” you hum, fidgeting in your seat as you look out the window.

jungkook chuckles beside you, his eyes trained on the road as he drives, “what do you want to make?”

“should we make mugs?” you scroll through your pinterest board, humming as you click on a few designs you had saved.

“do they only allow us to make one thing?” he ponders, turning to face you for a split second.

“i’m pretty sure we can make as many as we want, just gotta pay more i guess,” you spot another cute pottery bowl on your feed, clicking on it and saving it into your camera roll.

“then we should make a bowl, a plate and a mug each,” he decides, chest puffing out slightly as he laughs at your amused reaction.

“we’ll be spending all day there then,” you tell him,

“i don’t mind,”

“jungkook!”

-

jungkook seems more excited than you now as you both walk into the class, the lady sitting you both down and giving you instructions.

you tell her that the both of you would be only making a mug each, much to jungkook’s dismay. but you promised him you’ll bring him back if it goes well.

“baby, how the hell did you get this shit on?” you turn to your boyfriend, a puzzled expression on his face as he twists and turns the apron around, trying to find out how to put it on.

“this is too hard,” he’s groans, hands plopping on his lap as he let’s you take the apron from him.

“you’re meant to twist it like this,” you turn the strings to make a loop, getting up from your seat to reach over his head and put the apron on him.

“thanks,” he pecks you on your lips, “what colour are you making your mug?”

you ponder for a second before answering him, “pink, i have my inspo pic,”

you fish out your phone to show him the picture you had saved earlier in the car.

“your favourite colour,” he whispers under his breath while looking at your photo, “should i make mine black then?”

you nod your head, opening pinterest again to search up pictures for him.

jungkook’s amazed by the many results the app has given you, he takes his time to scroll through and carefully scrutinise each picture while you organise the table.

“i’ll do this one,” he tells you, showing the picture he has found as you nod enthusiastically, jungkook seems pleased with your reaction.

-

“this is so fucking hard,” the clay in jungkook’s hand spins out of control for the third time as he sighs, you laugh to yourself softly as you turn to look at him.

“try one more time baby, then i’ll help you,” you use the back of your hand to nudge his hair away from his eyes, leaning over to peck his cheek.

“how are you doing that, i swear sometimes you’re too good at these type of stuff,” he groans, picking up the clay to throw it back on the pottery wheel.

“you need to be patient,” you start your wheel again, showing him, “like this, look,”

jungkook watches in awe as you shape the clay into a mug shape, the clay smoothly following your hands as you smile proudly.

“now you try,” you stop the wheel again, turning to face your boyfriend.

jungkook starts his wheel, hands hesitantly hovering over the blob of clay, he deems it as his current biggest enemy.

“push your fingers in the middle of the clay when the wheel goes to make a hole, then from there you have to shape it,” you instruct him, watching as he does exactly what you say.

“babe, this feels extremely intimate and uncomfortable,” he grimaces, poking his finger into the clay

you laugh, slapping his arm with your hands, a tiny bit of clay getting onto it, “don’t say it like that!”

jungkook laughs, his eyes still focused on shaping the clay, it’s been the most progress he’s made so far ever since the both of you got here.

“you’re doing it kook! just keep going and be careful with it,” you lean forward to peck his cheek, he nods, a proud smile growing on his face.

-

“that was tiring,” he huffs, reaching out to hold your hand as you both walk out of the shop.

“it’ll be worth it when they deliver the finished products, i think it’ll be so cute,” you giggle, squeezing his hand.

“let’s go and eat some food now, what’cha wanna eat?” he hums, pulling you closer as he fondly swings your linked arms while walking.

“there’s a nearby samgyeosal place-“

“let’s go,”

you giggle as jungkook quickens up the pace, walking the both of you to the car.

-

“shit, should we order the 600g one?” jungkook groans, fingers reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose as he imagines the good food the two of you are about to eat.

“babe, we are two people, please order a smaller amount,” you giggle, watching as your boyfriend flips through the menu to scan through more ingredients.

the two of you settle on some meat, some vegetables and a beer and soju.

“jagi try this,” he offers you the first sip of his beer as you grimace, eyebrows scrunched up as you take the mug of beer from him.

“don’t know how you like this,” you take a sip of the drink, forcing yourself to swallow the small but bitter sip.

“it’s so good, could drink this like water if it didn’t matter,” he reaches to take the drink back and takes a sip.

-

when the meat and vegetables come, jungkook decides that his duty has arrived. he reaches for the tongs and starts to grill the meat on the grill as you watch him.

“smile,” you point your camera to him, capturing a picture of him smiling at your camera and grilling the meat.

“this is so good,” you groan as he feeds you the meat wrapped in lettuce, jungkook smiles proudly at you as he watches your content expression.

“it’s made with love, that’s why,”

“you’re so cheesy, eww,” you giggle, nudging his shoulder as he fondly smiles at you.

“eat well,” he taps the bottom of your chin, turning back to the grill to cook more meat.

-

“that was a good meal,” you link arms with his as the both of you head out of the restaurant, the sky turning dark quickly as time passes.

“mm,” he hums, shivering as he pulls you closer.

“jagi, there’s a night market here,” your boyfriend lights up, beginning to drag you over.

“jungkook,” you whine, “we just ate dinner,”

“a little more food won’t hurt,”

he ends up getting more than just a ‘little’ but you can’t stay mad anyways.

[maliby]

Dare | Johnny Suh (+18)

↬ Pairing: Johnny x F. Reader

↬ Story Genre: smut, fluff

↬ Warnings: mature language, explicit sex scene

↬ Word count: 5.6K

↬ Summary:  You and your friend Johnny have this ongoing string of wild dares. There’s just one thing: you’re never allowed to say no.

“Good morning class, today we’re going to start learning all about the matrix!” Your Algebra professor happily announced, completely unaware of the horror that swept over his students.

“Wait, is he talking about the movies?” Your friend Taeyong leaned in as soon as Professor Weaver turned his back to write on the board. The rest of the class groaned, having heard tales of horror from their seniors about the subject.

“No, you dufus! Remember last year when Taeil was having a mental breakdown?”

“Oh,” realization dawned over his beautiful face, his big eyes widening even more.

You had had a crush on Taeyong from the first moment you had seen him (just like everybody in your year), but that soon went away as you got to know him and found that you connected better as friends.

“Yup. Matrices…” You sighed in terror while you rested your chin on the palm of your hand. “Maybe Taeil has some notes he can give us-” At that moment, the phone in the back pocket of your jeans buzzed, breaking you out of your conversation. You fished the device from your pocket and looked at the shiny notification bar - it was a message from your roommate, Johnny Suh. 

You looked to your left where said roommate was, sat just a few tables from you, and felt a feeling of dread creep up on you at the sight of his stupid grin. You didn’t have to read the message, you already knew what he wanted.

“Is it Johnny?” Taeyong asked as his eyes followed yours straight to the roommate you both had in common.

“Yes…” you mumbled through gritted teeth, quickly placing your finger on your phone’s Touch ID to unlock it and read the message.

Heeere’s Johnny 🔪 (10:35 AM): dare u to scream “fuck” as loud as you can

“Motherfucker…” you muttered with your eyes closed.

“What did he dare you to do this time?” You turned your phone to him as you noticed him trying to take a peek at it. “Oh no…”

It all started this one night at a frat house party. Back then, you were still crushing over Taeyong and, in a game of truth or dare, Johnny dared you to pick your nose and eat your own booger. Of course, any sane person would have said ���no’ but, the tequila shots you had downed half an hour earlier made you anything but that. After that, not only did you not look at Taeyong for 2 weeks straight, but also dared Johnny to pick his crush’s nose. You thought he would never agree to it, but as soon as you saw the deed being performed right in the middle of the cafeteria, you knew you had just entered a game with no end.

“Y/N, you can’t do this! You’ll be in trouble!” Taeyong tried to reason with you, already knowing his words would fall on deaf ears.

“More trouble than I was in when I had to write a love poem to Professor Stevens on one of the questions of the Calculus exam?” You flinched as you remembered the talk down you got when Professor Stevens thought you were trying to have sex with him to get a better grade.

“Yeah...that was bad. But still-”

The buzzing of your phone interrupted Taeyong. You looked down at it and read Johnny’s second message out loud to your friend.

Heeere’s Johnny 🔪 (10:38 AM): are u scared? 🐔

You looked back at the sender of the message and felt annoyance grow as you saw him flap his arms around like a chicken and laugh straight in your face.

5 seconds. That was how long it took for you to completely lose your cool, flip Johnny off and yell from the back of the class: “Fuck!” 

You were expecting a couple of things to happen, but nothing could prepare you for the general reaction you got: laughter. Everyone was laughing, from your classmates to your professor. Everyone except Johnny, that is.

“Don’t worry Miss Y/L/N,” Mr Weaver said from the front of the class, breaking your stare down with Johnny. “Matrices aren’t as scary as they seem,” Mr Weaver fondly smiled at you before turning back to the board to write something down, leaving you completely perplexed.

You looked back at Johnny who had his face in a frown and stuck your tongue out to him - it felt good to see his evil plans backfire.

“That was lucky,” Taeyong commented with a little chuckle.

“Tell me about it, feels like the Universe has finally compensated me for all the stupid shit Johnny has made me do.”

“You’ve made Johnny do some pretty stupid shit too.”

“Shhh,” you turned to your friend with your finger in front of your lips, making the universal gesture for silence. “Let’s not talk about that,” you patted him in the back and picked up your pen to start taking notes.

“I’m back!” You announced as put your keys on the glass bowl right by the entrance of your shared apartment. 

“Taeyong, they were all out of your favourite yoghurt.” You heard noise coming from the kitchen so you moved your way there, but as you went inside you crossed paths with Johnny who was just leaving the kitchen. He was on the phone, and by the expression on his face, you figured that something bad must have happened. 

“What happened?” You asked Taeyong who was leaning on the balcony eating the last of his yoghurt.

“I don’t know, it’s his mother.” 

“Oh no, are his parents fighting again?” 

Taeyong nodded as he licked his spoon and threw the yoghurt cup in the trash.

It was then that you both jumped up at the noise of the door slamming shut - Johnny had stormed out of the house.

Both you and Taeyong had called him loads of times but Johnny never answered, worry consuming you and your best friend. Eventually, you both decided to split up and go looking for him - Taeyong on his scooter and you on your bicycle. 

After half an hour of looking for Johnny in the most obvious places, you started to get desperate. You were starting to run low on ideas of where he could be, but as you passed by a bus stop and saw an ad for a sunscreen with a girl on the beach you suddenly remembered something: Johnny once had told you that when he was feeling down he liked to go to the beach and listen to the waves because it really calmed him down. 

“Why didn’t I think of that earlier?” You questioned yourself (earning a few weird looks from the people at the bus stop) before you changed directions and started to peddle your way to the beach.

The beach was mostly deserted (being that it was December and it was cold), but a brown-haired guy could be seen sitting alone in the sand. 

You parked your bike in the empty bicycle spot, locked it and walked straight to the lonely boy. As you got closer to him and confirmed his identity you couldn’t help but sigh in relief - he sure as hell didn’t look good mentally, but at least he was physically okay. You fished your phone from the pocket of your jacket and sent a quick text to Taeyong before sitting right down beside one of your best friends.

“It’s a little cold for a swim, don’t you think?”

He smiled at you, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes. 

“My parents are getting a divorce,” he deadpanned before looking back at the sea, your instant reaction being to hug him.

“I’m so sorry Johnny.”

“I begged them to just talk it over. I begged them to try but...they won’t.”

“Johnny…” you started in a warning tone. You wanted to tell him that his parents have the right to be happy, but you completely understood where he was coming from - nobody wants their parents to split up. You just wish you could take away this bad feeling from him.

“I know, I know…” he answered, picking up what you were about to tell him. “It’s just...hard.”

You studied his face for a while and noticed his eyes were puffy from crying and your heart completely broke. You and Johnny liked to tease each other a lot, but the truth was that you really cared about each other, more than you’d probably like to admit.

You placed your hand on his back and started rubbing soothing circles. He probably could barely feel them over his bulky black leather jacket, but you couldn’t help but do it. “We’re here for you. Me and Taeyong. You know that, don’t you?”

Johnny turned to look at you and for a brief moment, his eyes held an emotion you had never seen on him. Something you were sure you had misunderstood. Something that, weirdly, made your heart pound.

“I know.” 

Johnny kissed the top of your head and wrapped his long arm around you, snuggling you closer to him and his body heat. You placed your head on his shoulder and just sat there, hearing a mix of his breathing and the waves.

Suddenly your heart started pounding again - something about this felt way too intimate. Replaying the last few minutes in your head made you realize that all of this, somehow, felt like more than a friendship, and that, scared the crap out of you. 

Your own body acted on its own, and when you came to it, you were already backing away from him and saying something to deflect the situation.

“You know there’s a frat party tonight don’t you?”

“Y/N... I’m not in the mood.”

“Johnny Suh, you are going to that damn party, and you are going to have a good time!” You knew he was stubborn and that you probably had no chance of convincing him but then, something crossed your mind; something that would dead sure make him go. “...I dare you!”

He chuckled. “That’s a low blow, using the dares against me.”

“Isn’t that the purpose of a dare though?” You smiled mischievously, making him smile in return.

“Touché.”

“Woo-hoo! Look at you!” Taeyong whistled as soon as you left your room, all dolled up and ready to go party. “Who are you trying to bang?”

You sneakily took a peek at Johnny who was sitting on the couch and felt a shiver run up your spine as you saw his eyes completely locked on your form. “Mmm, no one,” you lied in a playful tone. 

The truth was you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about that little moment with Johnny on the beach and, as you looked through all your clothes when deciding on what to wear, you couldn’t help but pick your most revealing dress with his reaction in mind.

“Yeah, I don’t believe you,” Taeyong said.

“Well tough luck! Now come on guys, the cab is waiting downstairs.”

When you were grabbing your bag to make your way out the door you felt a tall presence right behind you. He placed his big hand on the small of your back and whispered to your hair: “damn Y/N, didn’t know you cleaned up like that.”

You smiled to yourself and then turned to look at him. “Well, obviously you haven’t been paying attention.” You winked at him and turned back around, leaving to follow Taeyong to the cab while being fully aware of Johnny’s eyes on your back.

When both you and Johnny arrived downstairs, Taeyong had already sat in the front, making you both sit in the back.

The ride was a short one - only 10 to 15 minutes - but, nonetheless, it was full of tension. Taeyong was on his phone the whole time, and the driver kept quiet so, if it wasn’t for the radio the silence would be a deafening one. 

Both you and Johnny didn’t take out your phones, as it would be usual. He just leaned his head on the window and watched the city lights pass by, probably still thinking about his parents. You felt bad. You didn’t want him to feel this way. You wanted him to be his usual funny self and dare you to do stupid shit, but seeing him like this just broke your heart. 

You couldn’t help but stare at his side profile - he was handsome. Of course, you knew he was handsome, you were not blind, but this was the first time his handsomeness was affecting you. You couldn’t help but stare: stare at the way his styled hair brushed upon his eyes, stare at his straight nose and stare at his perky lips. 

Suddenly, an undeniable urge to lean in and kiss him emerged within you. An urge so immense that you caught yourself actually moving towards him, only to be stopped by him turning to look back at you with a charged expression. 

You shared a look for a few seconds. A look that made your insides tingle and your legs press harder against each other. What was happening to you?

Johnny’s hand was reaching over to yours, which was pressed on the seat between the both of you, and you could feel your heart start to beat faster. Suddenly, it felt like time had slowed down and all your focus was on that one hand. That hand that looked strong and delicate at the same time. That hand that looked like it had the power to not only be rough but also gentle. That hand that could grope you, touch you and fuck you so good until you cried for more. That hand that was so close that made you gasp in anticipation.

“We’re here,” the cab driver announced, breaking you from whatever spell Johnny had you on.

“Thanks. Keep the change.” Taeyong paid the driver and left the cab, immediately moving to open up your door.

“Milady,” he bowed, acting as your personal chauffeur.

“Why thank you,” you awkwardly bowed back, still feeling shaken up by the events of the car.

“Okay, let’s move!” Your group started walking towards the house as soon as Johnny joined both of you from the other side of the cab, Taeyong still completely unaware of what had just happened. “I promised Yuta we’d play beer pong with him.” 

“But Taeyong, you know I suck at beer pong!” You protested.

“I do. And that’s why you’re not on my team.”

“What?! That means I’m stuck with her!” Johnny whined from right next to you, making you turn and hit him in his chest, his hard pecks not going unnoticed by you.

“Hey!”

“Shut up Suh, you know as well as I do that you could use a drink,” Taeyong said before he spotted his friend near the entrance. “Yuta ma’ man! What’s up?”

“TY! I was beginning to wonder if you’ve gotten lost!”

“Sorry, Miss Y/N here took 3 hours to get ready,” he pointed back at you, making you hit him in his shoulder.

“Shut up Taeyong!”

“Come on man, did you get a good look at her? I’d wait an eternity if it meant I could look at an angel like her,” he winked at you before getting a sip out of his red plastic cup.

It was public knowledge that you and Yuta had fucked a couple of times. He was pretty hot, and the things he could make you feel with that tongue piercing of his were out of this fucking world. But tonight, you weren’t feeling him all that much - the tiny voice in your head telling you that that’s because you wanted to be railed by Johnny instead.

“Do you really think those cheesy lines are going to work?” Johnny asked out of nowhere with a hint of annoyance to his voice.

Johnny and Yuta were friends and him, more than anyone, knew that Yuta was a nice guy. Sure, he really liked to flirt, but he was also very respectful. So, his reaction made you wonder if he perhaps was feeling jealous. Secretly, you hoped he was. 

“It already did man,” Yuta winked at you once again, catching you a little off-guard. 

“Now, TY told me we’re not going to be on the same team for the beer pong. I’m usually a perfect gentleman, but I’m sorry angel, I can’t let you win.” Yuta came one step closer and picked up your hand and you swore you felt Johnny tense up beside you. “Maybe afterwards you could save me a dance?” He kissed the back of your hand and gave you a look that left little to no imagination of his true intentions - he wanted sex.

“Dream on, Nakamoto,” Johnny interrupted, coming right between you two and breaking your contact. “Stop stalling and let’s go.”

Johnny grabbed your arm and pulled you inside and away from Yuta and his advances. The look of bewilderment on your other roommate’s face didn’t go by unnoticed by you, but you forcibly chose to act like you hadn’t seen it. You didn’t know what it was, but you were liking this jealous side of Johnny and you were certainly curious for more.

“Alright, game on,” you heard Yuta comment before the loud music from inside overwhelmed you and your ears.

The game went on for a while. You lost, just as Taeyong had predicted. You didn’t mind, really. You just wanted to have a good time and the alcohol from the game was helping you do just that: you were currently in the middle of the dance floor dancing by yourself without a care in the world. You had lost your friends when you went to the bathroom and decided to go to the dancefloor when WAP started playing.

You were enjoying yourself. You were at that fine line where you were feeling the effects of the alcohol but you could still make your own decisions and you loved it.

Suddenly, as you were shaking your ass, you felt a pair of hands on your hips and a crotch on your ass. You wished it was Johnny, but as you opened your eyes and saw him sitting on a couch not far from you, you felt your fantasy crumbling. You turned around to see who you had just ground on and weren’t surprised when your eyes landed on Yuta.

“Hello angel, I’ve been looking for you.”

“Really?” You tried to put a little distance between you, but Yuta just pulled you right back in, your bodies now in full contact with each other.

“The way you look tonight...you’re driving me fucking crazy. I can’t stop thinking about you,” he confessed in your ear, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on the small of your back. “All I wanted to do, was ditch Taeyong and the game and do that thing with my tongue that you like so much.”

Usually, that would be enough to make you lose your shit and pull him to the closest available bedroom, but tonight your mind was elsewhere. “Yuta...I’m sorry but tonight I’m not feeling it.”

His face fell in disappointment and he looked like a lost puppy, which partially made you feel bad for rejecting him, but you had to be honest. 

“You sure?” He asked you.

“Yes.”

“Alright, I’m sorry then...”

He was about to let you go; you could feel his grip loosening when someone yanked him back and away from you, leaving you confused.

“Leave her alone Nakamoto,” Johnny’s voice sounded right from beside you, making your heart jump.

“What the-? What is wrong with you Johnny? Why are you acting so- Oh…” Yuta looked back at you and you could literally see him putting all the puzzle pieces together in his mind. “I get it now.”

“Get what?” Johnny asked.

“Nothing,” you intercepted Yuta before he could say anything. “Yuta, don’t you have to go meet up with that girl?” 

You made some weird faces at Yuta so he could understand what you were doing and, thankfully, he did. 

“Oh yeah, I almost forgot. Have fun!” He winked at you and turned to leave, making you sigh in relief that that whole situation was over.

“That was weird,” your roommate commented. “Was he bothering you? I know he sometimes can be a little...persistent.”

You felt a warmth spread throughout your chest. You knew Yuta could never harm you, but the fact that Johnny was so worried about you made you swoon. Then a thought popped in your head that made the warm fuzzy feeling turn sour: was he worried because he liked you or just as a friend?

“No, it’s okay. He did nothing wrong. Thank you…”

“You’re welcome…”

The mood got awkward for a minute, with none of you saying a word until Johnny broke your shared silence. “I’m gonna go.”

“What?”

“Yeah...I’m sorry, I’m just not really feeling it.”

He looked mentally down and you felt bad for him. Johnny was always the one cracking up a joke - wherever there was laughter, he was always present. He loved to dance and to have a good time, and it broke you to see him like this.

“Hey, come on, dance with me.”

“I’m sorry Y/N, I’m really not feeling it…”

“Come oooon…” You didn’t know how you could convince him, but then an idea popped in your head. “I dare you.”

He chuckled and you couldn’t help but smile at the thought of at least making him laugh. “Playing dirty again Y/N?”

“Well, you aren’t giving me much of a choice now are you Johnny?”

“I don’t know…”

Before he could continue you started imitating a chicken, just like he had done to you in the Algebra class and you couldn’t help but smile at his laughter once again.

“Alright, alright!”

“Yes!” You chanted in victory, promptly grabbing his hands and making him dance with you.

The dance started out friendly, with a few spins here and there, but it wasn’t long before tension started rising up and his hands were on your hips, just where Yuta’s had been. In your head, you couldn’t help but compare the feeling of the 2. Yuta had nice hands, that had certainly made you feel good before, but Johnny’s somehow felt better. His hands felt like he cared for you on a much deeper level. Like they could hold you and never let go. Like they could protect you from anything and completely destroy you at the same time.

As your inner voice went on an entire monologue about the wonder of Johnny’s hands, you found yourself looking him dead in the eyes. The way he was looking at you was making you think wild things, and with the buzz from the alcohol, you couldn’t help but want to act on those thoughts.

Without an ounce of self-control, you let your head move forward and your mouth whisper in his ear: “I dare you to grab my ass.”

Without a second of hesitation, his hands were on your ass and you were exhaling on his ear. The way his big hands were fully grabbing you and massaging you was turning you on so much that you could feel yourself get wet. You wanted nothing more than to have him lift up your dress and finger you in the middle of everyone.

Johnny moved his head near your neck and you thought for a second he was about to kiss you there, but you were surprised when he spoke in your ear. “I dare you to grind that sexy ass of yours on my cock.”

“Fuck.”

Just as he had done with your dare, you promptly complied, turning around and rubbing yourself on his semi. You both were walking on some dangerous paths, but you didn’t think any one of you could go back now.

As you moved your ass to the music and felt him grow harder and harder you couldn’t help but think about what it would be like to fuck him. You wanted him to end you. You wanted him to fill you up so good that he’d ruin any other man for you. You wanted his hands all over your body. You wanted him to grab your tits and play with your nipples. Fuck.

You reached your head back and whispered your next dare to him: “I dare you to play with my boobs.”

“Gladly.”

And then those big hands that were previously on your ass were now caressing your breasts and you felt like you were completely done. 

“Mmmh…” you moaned, not sure if he could hear you over the loud music.

The way he was pinching your nipples over your dress made you feel glad you decided on  not wearing a bra tonight. He was making you feel so good just with his fingers on your nipples and his clothed cock on your ass that your mind once again thought about what it would feel like to have the real deal.

“I dare you to kiss me.”

The dare had caught you off guard. You had been so in a trance by the grinding that your mind went straight to the fucking and skipped the kissing, but now that he had requested it you couldn’t stop thinking about it. So, consumed by desire, you turned around and glued your lips to his. 

You wrapped your right leg around his hip (his hand once again coming to the rescue and grabbing your thigh) and felt his cock rubbing you straight on your clit. The feeling was so pleasurable that you felt like you couldn’t take it anymore, you had to have him now. So you pulled back from the kiss and plead for the last dare: “I dare you to fuck me.”

Johnny didn’t waste any more seconds, he grabbed you by your hand and lead you up the stairs to the first spare bedroom he could find. He then pushed you to the bed, making you fall right on the mattress.

“When I saw you with Yuta I went fucking crazy.”

The way he was towering over you and looking down on you as he confessed his feelings to you was slowly driving you mad. You never imagined you would be where you were right now, but now that you were you could confidently say that you wanted nothing more than this.

“I turned him down because of you,” you also confessed, now suddenly feeling shy and not being able to look him in the eye.

He chuckled.

Suddenly the mattress dipped between your legs as he joined you on the bed, right on top of you. 

“How the fuck did we end up here Y/N?” His fingers gently placed a misplaced lock of your hair behind your ear, catching your breath at his tenderness.

“I don’t know...but I think I don’t want to go back.”

“Good. ‘Cause me neither.”

His lips were back on yours and although the kiss felt different this time, it quickly evolved to something more. His hands ran down your body and went between your legs, his fingers rubbing you over your drenched panties.

“You’re so wet baby. Is this all from grinding against my cock?” His fingers slid under your underwear and easily entered you, making you moan.

“Fuck, yes. I can’t stop thinking about your cock, it’s driving me crazy. I want to fuck you so badly.”

“I want that too.” Something dark took over his eyes. Something that, in combination with his low and breathy voice was making your desire for him grow to even bigger levels. 

“Lately I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.” His free hand pulled down the upper part of your dress, exposing your breaths to his hungry mouth, as his other hand picked up its pace. “I lay awake at night just thinking about you: your smell, your hair, your smile, your eyes, your lips, your body…”

“Johnny…” you moaned his name as you felt that sweet pleasure building up from within you.

“Fuck, that sounded better than I imagined. Do that again, baby.”

Johnny’s other hand joined the one between your legs and began its assault on your little bundle of nerves, intensifying the amount of pleasure you were feeling. “Fuck Johnny, I can’t take it much longer…”

“Cum for me baby,” he instructed as he tried to alleviate himself by rubbing his cock against your leg.

“Ohshit-” you incoherently mumbled at the arrival of your orgasm, your walls spasming around his long fingers.

“You’re so beautiful,” Johnny mumbled against the skin of your belly as he pressed soothing kisses on it.

You smiled and took in a few more breaths so you could talk. 

“Since when are you this romantic Suh?” You asked as you finger-combed his now messy hair.

“Since always. I just only show it to special girls.”

You looked away, suddenly feeling the blood rushing to your cheeks. Damn Johnny Suh and his smooth ass talking.

He chuckled before moving closer to your face and kissing you across your jaw. “Since when are you this shy Y/L/N?”

“Since-” You opened your mouth to answer him but came up short, ending up getting frustrated instead. “Shut up and take your clothes off!”

Your roommate laughed at your annoyance and immediately complied, removing his shirt and working on his pants. You couldn’t help but stare at his buff body: his bulging biceps, his washboard abs and his juicy pecks. You were so lost in desire that you didn’t even notice that Johnny was eyeing you up.

“Enjoying the view?” He teased, the stupid grin on his face driving you mad.

“Shut up,” you said once more, not enjoying the power he had over you.

“Take off your dress baby, I wanna see you too,” he requested as his hand caressed your naked thigh, sending shivers up your spine.

You obliged, quickly removing all your clothes and exposing your naked body to his hungry eyes.

Johnny didn’t say anything, but you could tell by the way his cock twitched that he was affected. So affected, in fact, that within seconds he was on top of you devouring your lips.

Both your hands wandered on each other’s body as he dry humped you between your legs.

“Do you have a condom?” You asked between ragged breaths.

“Fuck, no. But wait a minute,” Johnny reached for the bedside table and opened the first drawer, finding exactly what he was looking for. “Jackpot.”

“Did you know that was there?” 

“No, but I figured. After all, this is a frat house,” he explained as he opened up the package and rolled down the latex condom on his cock.

“Are you ready, baby?”

“Fuck, yes. Just put it in.”

Johnny didn’t wait a second longer. He grabbed his cock, ran it up and down your slit a couple of times and slowly entered you, the feeling of fullness being completely indescribable.

“Oh Johnny, you feel so good.”

“Fuck, tell me when I can move.” Johnny was nuzzled up in your neck, leaving tiny love bites as you adjusted to his cock.

“You can go.”

He started moving slowly at first, a string of moans spilling out from both your mouths, but, soon after, his hips started thrusting faster and harder and you found yourself clawing at his back. 

“Shit,” he hissed before glueing his lips back on yours.

For a moment you both lay there on your own little pleasure bubble, just fucking and swirling your tongues together, with moans and cusses being spilt left and right as you enjoyed each others’ bodies. For a moment, nothing else mattered - just you and Johnny.

“Baby, you’re taking me so well. You are so perfect,” he confessed as he kissed you all over, his words almost making your heart jump out of your chest.

“Johnny, baby, I’m so close.”

“Me too, fuck.”

Johnny was drilling into you so hard that the sound of skin slapping on skin was drowning out the music coming from outside. You were almost there, and as you felt that sweet feeling building up in your core you took a chance to really look at Johnny: the way he bit his lip, the way his brows frowned in pleasure, his dishevelled locks and the way his veins popped on his arms as he held himself up so as not to crush you. He was so fucking hot you couldn’t believe you hadn’t noticed it sooner.

“Johnny, I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum for me, beautiful. I’m right there.”

That was all you needed. Just like that, you were crashing and burning around the man you had considered as ‘just a friend’ for years, your walls milking him dry and making him spill everything inside the borrowed condom.

You didn’t move for several minutes. Johnny fell right to your side and just lay there right beside you, your chests rising and falling in tandem.

What do you say in these situations? What were you supposed to say right after one of your best friends, and roommate, fucked the shit out of you? You had no idea, but thankfully, he took the lead.

“I dare you to fuck me again.”

The dare caught you completely off-guard, just like yours had caught him and you couldn’t help but laugh. For a good minute, that’s all you both did: laugh.

“Alright,” you reached for the drawer and grabbed another condom from the owner of the room. “But this time, I’m on top.”

© maliby, 2020. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[bakubub]

In which Racer!Kuroo is your roommate and you finally learn more about him...

Warnings: Mentions of loss of loved one, disregard for own life, swearing, innuendos and implied nsfw (but sfw overall), fem!reader with she/her pronouns.

A/N: Idek what this is. Its literally a 4.6 k mixture of fluff, angst and comfort... I rewrote this like 4 times :,) being a perfectionist is so,,, tiring.

This takes part shortly after this, you can definitely read this without reading the 'part 1' if you will, since they don't depend on one another.

Art belongs to @aikk00 ,, and yes I am still in love with it :D

I stumble out of the lecture hall, my eyes so heavy I bump into about 3 other students and mumble my apologies until I fully wake up and snap out of my daze.

Walking down the stairs and making my way to the bus stop, I watch in horror as the bus I was supposed to be in drives off, going fast for once in its damn life as if mocking me.

Inhaling sharply through my nose, I manage to keep my composure and sit down at the bus stop, telling myself the next bus will be here in a bit.

It's fine. It's fine. I slept through the lecture, and I still have to catch up on 4 subjects and make dinner, but at least the house is clean and I'm caught up in that one subject I picked up for this exact reason.

It's fine. It's going to be just fi-

The rumble of a loud engine breaks my shitty but somewhat effective self-reassurance motto and I open my eyes to see a black and red sports car going 60 km/h in a 30 zone, effectively getting mine and everyone else's attention.

I watched in horror for the second time today as this time it stopped right in front of the bus stop. No, no, no, no.

No.

Please no.

He rolls down the passenger window with that ridiculous hair and a shit-eating grin, as he nods towards the seat, revving his engine.

I look away, pretending he's not looking directly at me and that I don't live with the guy, which I immediately regretted when he beeped the fucking horn.

What did I do to deserve this humiliation?

I hastily put my head down as he beeped it again, giving up and rushing towards his insufferable car, getting into the passenger seat and slumping in my seat to keep my head down low.

"What is wrong with you? What are you even doing here?" I hiss, my glaring up at him from my awkward, folded position.

He laughs, and when I hear the sound of a photo being taken in the split second I looked away to readjust my bag, I sit up straight, watching him continue speeding as he stuffs his phone into his pocket.

"Are. You. Trying. To. Kill. Me?!" I ask, my voice little less than a screech as I slap his arm with each word.

"Ow, ow, I just came to pick my roomie up! I sensed you needed a ride, and this is the thanks I get?" he asks, that smirk I have come to hate returning to grace his features.

I glare at him, but a small, sleep-deprived part of my brain is distracted by his appearance. A tight black tee adorning his built figure, his biceps are on display as he drives with one hand, the other resting on the gear shift. The air from his rolled down window is ruffling his hair this way and that, and I find myself wanting to run my hands through the raven strands, just as I had when I washed his hair that one time...

"Wait- how the fuck did you know I didn't have a ride?" I ask incredulously, my reaction time clearly delayed but here nonetheless.

I narrow my eyes as he hesitates before he answers, "I just knew, ok? It's not like it’s astrodynamics, not that I can't figure that out too."

"Kuroo, what the hell is astrodynamics? Are you like, spying on me or something?" I ask, pretending to look out the window so as to not get distracted by his appearance once more.

"What do you common folk call it? Rocket science?" He says, once again exceeding the speed limit.

"If I'm a commoner, does that make you a peasant? Also, stop going so fast, I feel sick and I do not feel like dying today."

He rolls his eyes in response as he slows down by a smidgen, the speed meter barely even moving. "Seriously, you may have no consideration for yourself, but I still have a lot of things to achieve with my damn life so slow the fuck down." My words finally reach the rational part in him and he slows down considerably, now going within the speed limit.

Taking a deep breath, I rest my elbow on my door and look out the window, my mind flooding with thoughts about Kuroo's reckless driving and how it can all go sour with one delayed reaction.

Before I know it, we're rolling up to our apartment building, driving into his private garage only the penthouse owners get to use.

"I'm sorry," he mutters, filling the silence in the car.

"It's ok. I just... I want you to be safe. I know its hard, but... just try," I say quietly, unable to look at him.

"That's what he said," he says hastily before rushing out of the car before I can hit him.

Getting out of the vehicle myself, I send a murderous look his way and run after his retreating form.

A small part of me is grateful that he's acting like his usual unbearable self again, but the rest of me is just mad at his relentless sex jokes.

He hits the elevator button before I can get there and I watch the doors close, his smirk practically shining through the crack of the closing doors. I jam my foot in the middle at the last possible second, and smile victoriously as I get into the metal box and slap his arm once again.

"Ooh, do it harder," he practically moans, and my eyes just about pop out of their sockets in embarrassment as my face flushes a deep red.

"Oh shut up," I mutter, turning around and waiting patiently for the doors to open on the top floor. I hear him snicker and then the sound of a photo being taken, turning around sharply. I yell in defiance and throw my bag on the floor as I jump onto him in an attempt to grab his phone out of his hand and delete the probably unflattering photo.

I straddle his back and reach for the phone he easily holds out of my reach. Leaning across his shoulder in a feeble attempt to reach it, my feet are hooked around his chest and my other hand is using his shoulder as a brace. He's laughing hard at this point, and I'm screaming at him to give me the damn phone. Neither of us notice the elevator doors opening nor the small woman standing at the threshold staring at us in shock and amusement.

"Kuroo Tetsuro! You let that poor girl down this instant, young man!"

We both froze at the authoritative voice, slowly turning to look at a small dark haired woman with a straight shoulder length cut and narrow gold eyes that were glaring at the man under me.

"MUM!" He exclaims, setting me down and running to hug and kiss the woman, his mum apparently. "What are you doing here?" I hear him ask as I straighten myself out, fixing my jumper and tucking my hair behind my ears, picking up my bag off the floor and quickly following them out of the elevator.

"What, a mother needs an excuse to come visit her boys? Where's Kenma?" She asks, looking in the elevator again as if to check if she missed him.

"Oh, he's at his own place. Apparently he has a booked in session with this famous gamer today. Did he say he'd be here?" Kuroo asks, letting go of the woman and leaning on the wall.

"No, I didn't tell anyone I was coming to visit. Never mind that, who's this pretty young lady here, hmm?" She asks, raising a perfectly shaped brow as she walks towards me, the click of her heels echoing in the lobby of the penthouse.

I smiled down at her, since she was considerably shorter than even me, and introduced myself. "It's very nice to meet you, Mrs. Kuroo." I say, bowing.

"Oh no, no, none of that. You can call me mum too, hmm?" She says, gesturing me up from my bow and pulling me down for a tight hug.

"Oh, um, actually, me and Kuroo aren't-"

"We’ll talk more comfortably inside, no? Tetsuro, is your plan to let me stand here all day?” She asks, letting me go and turning around to look at Kuroo.

Kuroo leaps into action, taking his mum's bag and unlocking the door, helping her out of her heels and leading her into the spotless penthouse.

It was all I could do to nod in response, closing the door behind us and walking down into the kitchen to prepare a meal.

It’s crazy how much I don’t know about this guy. He’d never mentioned his mother before, and briefly mentioned that he has a sister, whether older or younger I have no idea. Kenma, however, I know well. The guy was here all the time when I first started living here, but recently I've seen him less and less. Which is a shame, considering we actually got along quite well, with sharing eye rolls and bonding over our mutual love of Minecraft.

I don't notice silent footsteps following me until Kuroo's Mother says "now, why's a beautiful girl like yourself slaving away in the kitchen? Does that boy make u do all the cooking and cleaning like some mid-century housewife?"

I poke my head out of the fridge, smiling at her fair assumptions, "no, no, it's not like that at all. I actually-"

"Uh, mum! You know I'm incompetent with this stuff. This place would be a mess if she wasn't here to run things! Plus, she loves to cook and finds cleaning therapeutic. Hey, her words not mine," Kuroo quickly jumps in, putting his hands up defensively when she looks at him with a raised brow.

Looks like he doesn't want his mother to know of our little arrangement.

"Right. He's just so hopeless, I can't trust him to do anything," I add on, sending her a smile as I prepare the fish he likes.

"You're making grilled mackerel for dinner?! Oh that's gonna hit the fu- the fun spot," he says, saving himself at the last second.

I hold back a snort as I take out a pan, "open the window, fish boy. It's about to stink here and I can't be bothered with Mrs. Suzuki coming all the way upstairs just to complain about the fish smell, and then complaining that she had to come up here in the first place. God, I hope she isn't sitting on the balcony today," I ramble, trying to see her balcony from outside the window, but fail because of the private location.

Damn these amazing architects.

I hear his mum chuckle at my rambling as she begins to take out ingredients for a salad. "Oh, you don't have to help, please sit and make yourself comfortable," I say, moving towards her to take the lettuce out of her hands.

"No, no, I'd like to pitch in. Now what kind of mother-in-law would I be to let you do everything yourself?" She asks, holding the lettuce away from me and walking over to the sink.

I stare at the back of her head, a flush creeping up my neck, "m-mother-in-law?!" I ask incredulously, glancing over at Kuroo who looked suspiciously... Smug. I look away quickly when he meets my eyes, and I hastily hyper-focus on the fish in front of me, placing it on the heated pan, causing sizzling and popping to fill the awkward silence.

"I'm sorry darling, I don't mean to be overbearing. Tetsuro introduced you as his girlfriend, so I thought things were getting serious since he actually allowed us to meet one another. You see, he’s never introduced me to a girl before, so you can imagine my excitement. I can stop if you're uncomfortable-"

I cut her off, feeling even more embarrassed as I realise the role I am to play in Kuroo's life when his mother is around. I mean, it makes sense, he can't exactly just admit he took a random girl into his house.

"I, um, no really it's fine, I understand" I say, my voice small as I flip the fish.

She lets out a delighted laugh and pulls me down into a hug once more. The smile on my face is genuine as my embarrassment melts away, the bright smile of this woman comforting me.

"So, how did you guys meet?" She asks, chopping up the ingredients for her salad on the bench while I'm at the stove, Kuroo leaning on his elbows on the bench.

"At uni," I answer at the same time as Kuroo states, "at a party."

We both look at each other with wide eyes, and I clear my throat to clarify, "at a uni party. A classmate of ours hosted one and we met each other there."

"I see, so the old boozed up one night stand turned into quite a domestic relationship hmm?" she suggests, wiggling her eyebrows at Kuroo.

"What? No, no, I would never! A one night stand? Booze? Please, what kind of man do you take me for?" Kuroo complains, looking offended.

I turn around towards the stove and roll my eyes. I've heard the rumours around campus, practically every girl in my lecture hall can testify to at least making out with the man. He really puts up a façade for his mum.

I hear the doorbell ring, and quickly take the fish off the stove to go answer it as Kuroo bickers with his mother about how innocent he really is.

"Hello? Who is it?" I ask, pressing the buzzer.

"Uh, hello? Is this Tetsu's place?" A deep voice answers. I look at the camera, seeing Kenma and a bunch of men about Kuroo's age looking confused. The one who answered is a guy with a blond mohawk and piercings adorning both ears.

"Yes, just give me a second," I reply. "Kuroo, I think Kenma and the rest of your friends are here? Should I let 'em up?" I shout out.

"Yeah let 'em in," he calls back. I press another button, letting them into the lobby.

I need to make more food.

Quickly taking out my frozen dumplings I stocked up for emergency dinners for days I couldn't be bothered to make anything better, I whip up a quick sauce, thinking I could split the fish and put it in the middle of the table so everyone can take their share.

"I do apologise darling, I let my Kenma know that I came to visit and he must have told the boys. I think they've all come to see me," Kuroo's mum confesses.

"You must be a very loved woman if they came all this way to see you. And it's no worries really, I'm always prepared for guests," I say, putting her at ease.

She beams at me as the door is banged loudly.

Kuroo mutters something about “rude assholes'' as he goes to open the door, a group of tall men making their way through the threshold.

"Hiya cap'ain," the mohawk guy says, patting Kuroo on the back. A tall, light brown haired man was next to greet him, then proceeded to exclaim "MUMMA KOZUME!!" and practically jumped onto the poor woman.

Wait, did he just say Kozume? Isn't Kenma's surname Kozume?

"Hey mum," Kenma greets, kneeling down to hug Kuroo's mum.

Who's mum is this lady?! I swear to god I'm going to go crazy.

"Hello hello everyone," A massive grey haired guy says, kissing Kuroo's mum on the cheek and hugging Kuroo.

The last guy to greet them is a tan guy with a buzz cut, and he does the same as his friend before.

"So Kuroo, when di'ja get yourself a girl, huh?" The grey haired guy asks, looking offended that he didn't know before now.

I raise my eyebrows as Kuroo just smiles guiltily. He introduces me to his friends and I wave hello, as they all begin to introduce themselves.

The grey haired guy says his name is Lev and that he's half Russian. A weird detail to include but interesting I guess.

The light brown haired man introduces himself as Yaku, and says that he was Kuroo's senpai back in high school.

"Yeah a demon senpai," Kuroo mutters in reply. My smile quickly turns into a grimace as Yaku jumps on him and they both start brawling on the floor, making a loud ruckus. A loud thumping can be heard from downstairs as Mrs. Suzuki starts to lose her mind and continues to bang the handle of her broom to her ceiling.

"Ugh, you morons upset Mrs. Suzuki! She's going to talk my ear off next time I see her..." I complain, grabbing a cushion and throwing it at the boys.

They flinch at my anger and quickly get up, muttering a quick apology. My glare softens as mohawk introduces himself as Yamamoto, and the tan guy says his name is Kai whilst vigorously shaking my hand.

"It's very nice meeting all of you. Dinner will be ready in a bit so please just make yourselves comfortable," I announce, making my way back into the kitchen.

The boys, all sporting grins, make their way to the living room and sit on the couches, man-spreading and slouching all over the place, one person taking up the usual spot for two.

I sigh, focusing on the dumplings in front of me.

I stiffen as I feel large hands on my waist, and a presence behind me. Visibly relaxing once I realise it's Kuroo, I turn around, his hands still resting on my hips, and his face nestled in the crook of my neck.

"Please just go along with it. We have to act like a couple if they're going to believe us," he mutters, his hot breath causing shivers to run up my spine.

I simply nod, instinctively placing my arms around his neck and running my fingers through his hair, something I've wanted to do since that day.

He groans into my neck, and I find myself holding my breath as I continue my hand movements.

"OI LOVEBIRDS! MUM SAYS THE DUMPLINGS ARE GONNA FUCKIN' STICK! Ow! Oh, sorry," I snatched my hands back from Kuroo, pushing his chest, my cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

What the fuck am I doing?!

I turn around back to the stove, mixing the dumplings in the boiling water as my thoughts race.

That felt too real, too much like a real relationship.

And way too addicting, apparently, since I already miss his close proximity.

The warmth on my waist disappears as I hear Kuroo running back into the living room.

"SHUT UP YOU MORON, THE DUMPLINGS ARE FINE!" I hear him scream, and then a loud thud as he presumably tackles whoever yelled at us to the ground.

I sigh as I hear Mrs. Suzuki's muffled thuds from downstairs in record time.

"You know I'm going to have to make Mrs. Suzuki some kind of apology cake because you boys can't sit down and act like adults," I complained, my arms crossed and an unimpressed expression on my face.

Lev and Yamamoto are on the floor playing some kind of Connect 4 game I've never seen before, while Kai looks to be having a deep conversation with Kuroo's mum, who is perched on the single arm chair like the queen she is.

Kenma is hogging the tv playing some kind of video game on Kuroo's ps5 (which I've hogged on more than one occasion), and Kuroo on the other hand has Yaku in a headlock.

He immediately lets go and apologises, and so does Yaku, who even bows in his regret.

I roll my eyes and shake my head at his mum, who just laughs, and I make my way back into the kitchen, setting food on the table and calling them in to eat.

After dinner, I find myself showered in compliments and not a bite of dinner leftover for tomorrow's lunch. Damn I'm good.

I served up cake I had already prepared from earlier along with fruits I washed and set on plates, and watched as that was eaten and finished before I even sat down. Kuroo's mum scolded the boys for poor manners, and they all apologised. Well, all except Kuroo, who just wiggled his pierced brows and winked at me.

I sit down on the floor next to the couch, since it was all occupied, and hear a dissatisfied sound coming from Kuroo's mum.

"Now, now, sweetheart. You don't have to be shy around me, just go on and take your usual seat next to Tetsuro," she says, nudging her head in Kuroo's direction, where the only vacant spot was literally his lap.

I look at her with wide eyes, even Kuroo seems taken aback by her suggestion, and all the boys are immaturely ‘oohing’ loudly as they laugh and make fun of us.

Kuroo makes a gesture for me to come next to him, so I hold back my heavy sigh, try my best to hide the flush on my face, and walk towards him, awkwardly perching on his knee.

He chuckles as he grabs my waist and pulls me flush towards his chest, my butt in the corner of the couch and my legs resting diagonally over his, so that my head is directly in the crook of his neck.

I hate to say it, but this is actually really damn comfortable.

Conversation has started up again, but it becomes secondary to the beat of his heart right under my ear, and my eyes start to get heavy as his scent and warmth lull me to a comfort that is beyond being awake and alert.

---

Kuroo's POV

"What a cute girl she is, Tetsu. I'm so glad you've found her. And now that you've got her, you better. Not. Let. Go." She says, slapping me on the arm with each word of her last sentence.

What is it with women and slapping me?

"Ok, ok, I know mum, I won't stuff this up. I promise," I respond, smiling at her.

"Ok, well, I'm staying over at Kenma's house. Ah, no objections. You've already got your hands full, and I don't want to be in the way of young love. Plus, I'd rather listen to Kenma's midnight streams than you two in the middle of the night," she says, not accepting my objections and giving me a knowing look. My face warms to what she's insinuating, and I mutter a quick, "it's not like that," as I duck my head into Y/n's shoulder.

By this time the boys have all left, Kenma's downstairs waiting in his car for his mum to come, but she insisted on staying back for a few minutes to talk to me.

Y/n fell asleep a while ago now, still nestled on my lap, her head on my shoulder and her figure keeping me warm.

"I know exactly how it is, my darling. I've seen how you two act, pretending to be in a relationship just so we don't ask any uncomfortable questions. I won't meddle in your life, I never did, Tetsuro. But I will give you advice I expect you to consider. Don't let her go. Neither of you were pretending about your feelings towards each other, let me tell you that much." She says, knowingly looking at me.

I look up in alarm, which quickly morphs into a nervous laugh. She's good, I'll give her that much.

But, can Y/n really mirror my feelings?

"Ok darling, better not leave Kenma waiting any longer. I'll visit again tomorrow, or you can come over to Kenma's, whichever you prefer as long as she comes along too. I want to get to know my future daughter-in-law better!!"

With that, the woman who took me in and treated me like her own left my home.

I look down at my roommate, taking in the way her lashes are long enough to brush against her face, the way her brows are just a tad bit asymmetrical, the stroke of her nose and the bend of her cupid's bow.

I can't help but bring my hand up to caress the side of her face, content to stay here forever.

Mum would've loved her.

This thought broke the dam that held back my tears since middle school, and as they fell down my face I couldn't help but think of my own mother, coming in and hugging her, making her famous pie that I can't remember the taste of anymore. A sob racks my figure and I all of a sudden find a pair of e/c eyes staring up at me, my tears having dampened some parts of her face.

Wordlessly, she straightens herself and wraps her arms around my neck, running her fingers through the back of my head, stroking down towards my nape and up again. I cry into her shoulder, tears that I've bottled up, emotions I've ignored because I've had my dad, my grandparents and the Kozume's. Later, I even had the team, and they all followed me to the racing gig, a place where I can express my emotions through the reckless driving that could claim my life any second. I should have been grateful. Instead, the pain of her absence never ceased.

I clutch the back of her sweatshirt as I cry and cry and cry, eventually tiring myself out and running out of tears.

With dry sobs still racking my body every few minutes, she finally leans back, cupping my face in her gentle hands.

"What's the matter, Kuroo?" She whispers, looking up at me with tears shining in her own eyes. "You can tell me anything, or you can say nothing at all. Either way, I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you," she says, touching her forehead to mine and closing her eyes. She stays here for a moment before moving to get up and drag me up too.

"Come on, let's get you into your pjs and into bed. It's getting late."

---

Your POV

Now in his usual shorts and singlet, I drag him to his massive bed, opening the neatly made bed and gently sit him down.

His hazel eyes follow me as I go to close the curtains, his lashes still wet from the countless tears he shed, his body still hiccupping with dry sobs.

Once I've put his blankets around him, I go to leave, muttering a goodnight as I leave.

"Y/n," I hear before I close the door. I peek my head in, "please stay."

Without a pause to think about his request, and already in my own pyjamas, I go next to him and crawl into his open arm as if I've been doing it every night, snuggling into his shoulder once more and wrapping my arm around his chest.

After a few moments of silence, he begins to speak in a raspy tone, "she's not my real mum. She's Kenma's mum, and I've... I've called her mum since I was around 7," he takes a deep breath before continuing. "I moved in with my dad and grandparents next door to the Kozumes when I was 6. I was nervous and shy back then. You wouldn't even recognise me because of the 180 turn my personality's taken. Kenma was even more social than I was. He was my first friend, and when I got him into volleyball and we met Coach Nekomata. That man inspired me to be the man I am today, and was the main reason why I joined the volleyball team in high school, and made friends with the guys. He did what my mum should've, supported me and gave me the confidence to live my life," he says, his voice cracking with the last word. I hug him tighter, knowing not to say anything as of yet.

"I just wish... I wish she didn't go. I wish she could've met you, Y/n. She would've loved you even more than Kenma's mum does," he confesses with a chuckle, sniffling and turning towards me to look me in the eyes.

"She would've seen the way I was around you. The different man I become. You make me a better person, Y/n. I find myself wanting to be better for you. I could never thank you enough for that. Please, never leave. Just stay with me, and I'll always be here for you," he says, repeating the same words I said to him earlier.

I can't help the smile from taking over my features and I lean in to kiss his nose, his eyes, his cheeks and finally I press my lips against his, something I have been wanting to do for a very long time.

"I will, Kuroo Tetsuro. I'll always stay with you."

A/n: So, I don't actually know if his mum passed away or if she left them, so I kind of just,, did both ?

Taglist: @3daa & @itsgiorgiaz

Notes, interactions and reblogs are highly appreciated <3

[kyberphilosopher]

Cerise

Those are people who died, died Those are people who died, died They were all my friends and just died.

Word Count: 5736 Warnings: Crime, Weapons, Mentioned Murder of a R/pist, Crude humor.

Jason’s friend and roommate, another Gotham villain, is ordered to return to Task Force X.

ce·rise/səˈrēs,səˈrēz/ [noun] a bright or deep red color.

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Let’s open up our story on a colorful note: Fuck Amanda Waller. 

Nobody likes her. You don’t like her. Jason doesn’t like her. None of the characters in this story like her. Arguably, none of the characters in your present universe like her, either. There’s a reason why people call her “The Wall”. It’s because that’s what it’s like talking to her. And that’s what it would be like trying to deny the request she’d passed on to you in her letter. 

It weighed on your mind briefly as you walk up the stairs of your apartment building. By the third flight, the weight’s pretty much disappeared. Sure, there’s anger at Waller for violating your agreement, but it’s so useless being annoyed with her that it washes away fast. So by the fourth flight, the whole thing is settled in your head to completion. You’ll go back to your Suicide Squad- or a Suicide Squad, considering most people Waller selects are idiots. Then you’ll do the job, and walk away bing, bang, boom. 

You tip your head politely as if in salute to the older woman, Mallorca, who occupies the apartment across from you. She returns a warm smile that raises her prominent and wrinkled jowls, igniting the fire in her warm brown eyes. “You need me to do your laundry again?” 

Of course an angel such as Mallorca would make such an offer. It’s not a bad offer, either. Your dark, silver lined chest plate is splattered with blood all over the front. It’s nobodies blood that doesn’t deserve it, as per your agreement with Waller. Just some perverted little prick who thought with his dick instead of his brain with the wrong girl. She looked frightened, and you saved her, and since the prick had just hit 18 (a fact you learned after rummaging around his wallet after), you had permission to bash his brain in. Hence the blood splattered vigilante armor. 

The first time Mallorca had seen such a sight, she had no reaction whatsoever. You weren’t sure what else you were expecting from an old woman living in a back alley apartment building, but it certainly wasn’t that. She offered no shock to your red masked, blood stained roommate either. Mallorca is simply an otherworldly being. And is that cocaine you see on the collar of her shirt?

“I got it,” you throw in return, rounding the corner so she’s at your back, and nearing the climb up the next and last flight of stairs. “Hey, is Jason home?” But when you turn around fully, Mallorca shows no intention of responding and has disappeared down your previous staircase. You clasp your hands against the sides of your thighs, “Oh, okay.”

You make your way up the final steps and stick a hand in a secret back pocket to fish around for your keys. You wince when you begin the rigorous task of tugging the lanyard free from the depths, which unfortunately fell near to your back hole. Then you slip the key into the lock and twist. 

Inside your apartment is near emptiness. There’s a couch, a rug, some windows, a TV, and to your immediate right is a small kitchen beside a hallway that leads to a bathroom and two bedrooms. You see the large plant you’d stuck in the corner is wilted and tinged brown, and the TV is playing some movie with the sound muted. No sign of your roommate, however. 

You toss your helmet and keys onto the couch. Then you make your way to the kitchen to search the fridge for a snack (that you know is not there) or perhaps some water. You bend down to peek an eye in, only to stand back up and close the thing. Then you pass over to the counter, and reach up to now peek an eye in the overhead cabinet. 

“You’re home early.”

You let out a short-but cathartic- scream, jumping as you turn around. You relax quickly. It’s only Jason, and your face changes from shocked and panicked to simply annoyed. 

The man at the other side of the room pulls his infamous red helmet from atop his face. Underneath is a classically masculine, handsome face with eyes that blend between green and blue. Black hair falls free in messy strands, accented by the one white tuft that you’ve claimed reminds you of a skunk. You tilt your head lazily in defeat. “How many times have I told you not to do that?”

Jason shrugs in his red hoodie and jeans, walking across the room to set the helmet on the coffee table. “Four. Any particular reason you’re home so early?” he flops himself onto the couch and kicks his feet up, crossing them tastefully next to the Red Hood helmet. 

You turn back around to continue the task of grabbing a cup from the top cabinet. “It’s been five, and I apologize for assuming I could do what I wanted in my own home.”

“If you have to ask me to stop sneaking up on you five times, you’re probably a really bad vigilante.”

“Fuck,” you mutter as you fill the cup with tap water. “That’s true.”

You turn around to face Jason. His eyes are already on you, illuminated by the blue glow from the television. They linger purely on your form for a moment, then they dip down to narrow at your armor. “Were you the one who killed that guy on the back of main?”

You furrow your brows and look up with pursed lips in thought. “Are you talking about the main diner or the main records shop?”

“Main diner on main street.”

“No, that was Azrael. This was by the records shop.” You raise the glass to your lips.

Jason snaps his fingers. “Oh, that guy. The kid?”

You nod and take another sip of the water. “He just turned eighteen, so you know. Free game. So, what do you want for dinner? Pick something good. I’m going back to the squad so I won’t be here for a few weeks.”

Jason’s brows furrow for a split second, then he perks up attentively. “You’re going back to the task force?” he repeats, though it sounds defeated and disbelieving. Distraught- is that the word you’re looking for?

“Yeah,” you shrug. “I got the letter-” you set the cup of water down and reach a hand into your pocket. Then you pull the crumpled envelope free of its confines and toss it onto the counter, “-today.”

Jason’s eyebrows furrow again. This time the movement is quick and curved and almost offended. “So, that’s it then?”

“What’s wrong, Jason?” you smirk. “Did you finally fall in love with your roommate turned friend? I always knew this day would come.”

“Uh, no?”

“Suit yourself.”

You turn back around and begin rinsing the cup out. Jason watches your back, something in his chest sinking. You weren’t his best friend. Besides living together, you weren’t really all that close. You were living a life a lot like his, running around at night as some antihero vigilante. The only difference was that you’d crossed paths with Waller and had managed to make it out of her system alive. Most antihero vigilante’s weren’t so lucky. Most of them died. But now you’re telling Jason right to his face that you’re going back. That you think you’ll only be gone a few weeks when it could just be forever. Sprayed with dark blood all over... what if it was yours?

“Actually,” Jason leans forward. His legs drop from the table and spread open, elbows resting against his knees with a hunched back. “Why don’t you pick dinner tonight?”

The glass clinks against the metal of the sink as you set it inside. Jason almost always picks dinner. Most of the time he chooses burgers or Chinese. Your apartments stove isn’t working, so eating from home really just means a BLT sandwich for the both of you. 

“Are you offering because you’re hoping I’ll choose that new steakhouse?” you smile.

“I’ll get you anything you want,” the man replies. “It’s on me.”

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Jason meets you on the roof of the building about an hour and a half later. You wanted to go with him, since you’d say his behavior is different from usual, but he was very adamant about you staying in. Jason even encouraged you to go ahead and pick your favorite movie to watch while he’s gone. 

When you told him you’d decided on the steakhouse option, you meant it ironically. Between the two of you, money could be described as ‘tight’. Going to a new place like that would mean saving for a while. Furthermore, you hadn’t even given him your order before Red Hood was gone. 

To his credit, looking at him now, you wouldn’t change a thing. The first bite of the food is phenomenal. The second bite is just perfect. Jason must have mind reading powers to be so aware of your taste in food- you’d thought he never noticed. 

He gets a steak, as predicted. Jason loves steak. 

Gotham looks most like itself at night, a view shared between the two of you. Two sets of legs dangle over the side of your building, both of which are clad in heavy boots and armored knees. Jason had decided to go out as his alter ego- a fact he thought he could keep from you by putting his hoodie under his leather jacket. 

“I saw you put your helmet by the door,” you tell him. “I know what’s under that sweatshirt.”

“No you didn’t,” is all he says back. 

The wind tickles the back of your neck. It ripples through the air in lazy waves, making Jason’s hair ruffle. The white skunk streak disappears and reappears between the darker-than-midnight-sky strands. Behind Jason, the moon is full and lonely. Its only company is the two of you. 

“Oh my god,” you stuff your mouth. “This is so good.”

“Hm,” Jason hums in agreement, stabbing his steak once again with a fork in his black to-go box. It’s the next movement of his shoulder that catches your eye. 

“Jason, is that cocaine, or powder donut dust?” 

Jason glances over at you. 

Your eyes linger on the white splotch of something in the wrinkles of red fabric. “Because I asked you not to eat them since there’s only two left.”

Your face slowly falls to one of horror as Jason stays still. With a face of steel, he finally says, “It’s cocaine then.”

“Then?”

“Look what I got you.”

Jason sets his box to the ledge beside him and leans down. 

“Worst subject change ever.” You take an angry bite of your meal in an attempt to both silence yourself and to make you feel better. Unfortunately as you pull away from the bite, crumbs attach themselves to your chest plate and stick to your fingers. “Crap. Jason, your dumb food is getting shit all over my stuff!”

When you look over, Jason’s orbs are already on you. His eyes pierce yours, almost unintentionally daring them to look away. The skunk strands glow this close. He holds two things in his hands. The first is a small, brown pot you could balance in the palm of your hand, filled with miniature yellow and red flowers. Scarlet tulips, golden sunflowers, and blonde alstroemerias. In the other hand is a Blu-ray copy of your favorite film. 

“Oh,” is all you can muster out. 

When was the last time the two of you had actually exchanged gifts? You weren’t lovers, or best friends. You were just friends. It had to have been last Christmas, when you had gotten him a TV subscription for South Park and a pair of socks. Jason had gifted you a new bedframe that he later helped you put together. 

A big smile reaches your eyes and makes your cheeks sore. “I haven’t been able to find this anywhere,” you say, taking the movie from his fingers. Your voice comes out pure and genuine. “Thank you.” Your smile grows even larger when you cup the pot of flowers with both hands. 

“All of the flower shops were closed,” Jason explains. “Those are plastic. They won’t die anytime soon.”

At that moment, you swear you could’ve kissed him. He’s looking at you like this is all nothing, like he didn’t just drop big money on dinner and flowers for you. Jason knew what food you wanted before you did. He knew your favorite movie when you can’t even remember saying a thing about it. When had any other man or woman been so thoughtful? So romantic? So caring?

You glance down to the film in your lap. “I didn’t think you payed attention this well.”

Jason’s brow quirks upwards. Something flashes in his eyes as he adjusts his position, seven stories up from the ground. “What kind of roomie would I be if I didn’t?” he asks. Something tells you there’s a shyness blooming in that broad chest of his. Jason’s eyes flit downward to the blood on you, before his head dips back upwards to lock a stare with you once more. “You smell nice,” he states.

You look up at him simply. You know your eyes are filled with pure adoration, and that it’s showing all over your face, but you don’t care. Your red hooded, drug pedaling, bat wrangling, gun toting equal roommate is your favorite person in all of Gotham at this exact moment. 

Behind Jason, a small bird flits overhead with a flash of crimson. “Hey, look,” you pat Jason’s shoulder. His eyes follow yours until they land on the floor of the roof behind you. “I think it’s a robin.”

“I know that bird,” Jason scowls. “That’s the son of the bitch that keeps waking me up in the morning.”

“Hm?”

You watch as Jason swings his legs over the side and pushes himself from the ledge. One hand reaches into the back of his pants while the other searches his leather jacket pocket for something. After a few seconds, he produces both a clip of ammo and a gun, which connect with a click. 

“Ah!” you yelp, placing both the flowers and movie on the brick before copying your friends actions and standing on the roof. Jason hasn’t shot yet, but the gun in his hand is aimed right at the little birdie. He’s got a clean shot. His face remains neutral and unmoving as you take your place beside him. 

It’s a full minute, and the robin is still alive and intact. He nibbles on a little crumb of bread. “He looks happy,” you think out loud. The air of Gotham goes quiet up on that roof, despite the distant sirens, music, and people throughout the city. “Are you gonna shoot?”

Jason’s finger lingers over the trigger. Even the slightest of a squeeze would set the weapon off at this point. The balls of your feet move to and froe, anticipating the bang you’re so familiar with. But then Jason lowers the gun completely, and the robin flies away at the movement. “Nah. He’ll feel the pain I dish out in the morning.”

“Don’t be sad,” you nudge Jason. “He’ll be back at six AM tomorrow to wake you up.” You turn to return to your beckoning food on the ledge. “Thanks for all this, anyway.”

“You’re welcome,” you hear Jason respond. “Hey Y/N?”

Jason watches you spin until you’re completely facing him. He can see the blood again. How it’s completely standing out against the darkness of your outfit. You look powerful, yeah. And you look like the antihero you’re labeled as. But all Jason sees is a corpse of a... of a friend. “Yeah?”

“You’re sure about this Waller thing?”

“Yeah?” you reply, as if it were obvious. The stain on you is so haunting it’s easy to think otherwise. “It’s not like I have much of a choice. It’ll only be a few weeks. I’ll be back before you know it. Then I can show you this sick ass movie.”

Then you go back to walking towards the ledge to retake your seat. But Jason remains standing. He watches as you, the person he thinks of naked so often, get comfortable, your back facing him. And, despite your word, Jason has the sinking feeling that some Suicide Squad mission isn’t the only place Amanda Waller will send you to. 

This time, Amanda Waller will send you to your grave.

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

This was supposed to be out on August 16th, for Jason’s birthday. But the concept came to me too late and I spent too long on it. Anyway, here’s some symbolism for ya.

Tulips symbolize unconditional love. Sunflowers symbolize adoration. Alstroemeria’s symbolize devotion. The reader describes the plant in their apartment as turning brown, suggesting it may share a similar fate as the reader as plants go brown when about to die. Robin’s symbolize optimism, a trait the reader displays towards the idea of returning to the Suicide Squad. Robin was also a former identity of Red Hood. Both of which could be why Jason decides to spare the bird. 

I’ll go back and proof read this in the morning.

[ghostly-cabbage]

Party In The Graveyard (Shiptember 2021 : Drunk)

It’s a day late but heres the Danny x Wes fic I wrote for @ghostgothgeek ‘s Ship Event!! Rating: Teen and Up Warnings: Language, Underage Drinking, Mild Suggestive Themes Additional Tags: Post-Reveal, Aged Up Characters, Mutual Pining, Flirting, Getting Together

Summary: So, here’s the thing; Wes never wanted to have a fucking house party, okay? This was all stupid Kyle’s stupid idea. Kyle isn’t even in highschool anymore. He graduated last year. But he invited his whole college freshmen class, and just about everyone from the senior Casper class. And it's just getting better and better. Why? Because about half an hour ago, Danny Fucking Fenton walked in.

--

Or a fic in which Wes sees Danny getting shitfaced and says, "Is anyone else gonna take care of him, or?" and then doesn't wait for an answer.

Words: 6,233

Ao3

“I take back all my poor words. Talk is cheap, but my mind is rich When I close my eyes You grab my wrist, And pull me in to your cold dead lips”

So, here’s the thing; Wes never wanted to have a fucking house party, okay? 

This was all stupid Kyle’s stupid idea. 

Kyle isn’t even in highschool anymore. He graduated last year. But he invited his whole college freshmen class, and just about everyone from the senior Casper class. 

And it's just getting better and better. 

Why?

Because about half an hour ago, Danny Fucking Fenton walked in. 

He walked in like he owned the goddamn place and the reaction went through everyone like a Whoop—like some kind of synchronized celebration of a miracle. 

What, just ‘cause everyone knows he’s Phantom now? 

Give him a fuckin’ break. 

Currently, Wes is standing adjacent to the fridge, nursing a god-awful drink Kyle shoved into his hands before disappearing back into the throng. 

Lighten up, bro, he’d said. 

Yeah. 

Sure. 

The music pounds through the house—a heart beat—a fucking jack-hammer. 

People talk and yell and spill their drinks on just about every surface that can stain. 

A cheer goes up from the dining room and he rolls his eyes. 

He slams his drink and focuses on the outdated calendar on the side of the fridge to keep from shuddering. It makes his mouth water, burns the whole way down and Jesus, seriously, what the fuck did Kyle put in this? 

He throws his cup at the overflowing trash can. 

His cheeks feel warm, but not even a buzz touches the wound up feeling in his chest. 

He passes through the dining room, stops to watch Danny and Dash shotgunning sixteen ounce Mike’s Harder cans. From the looks of the table, they've already gone a few rounds.

Danny finishes five whole seconds before Dash. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and crushes his can. 

“Slowing down already, Baxter?” he says, a smug grin plastered across his face. His shoulders are slumped and he talks just a bit too loud.

Dash finishes his and tosses it over his shoulder, which—cool. Fucking nice, what, does he think they have a fucking maid? 

“In your dreams, Fenton. We're just getting warmed up. No way I'm getting out-drank by a twig like you, half-ghost or not.” 

“Guess we’ll see.” Danny shrugs. He talks like he’s one of those people, has always been one of those people. 

Wes rolls his eyes and is just about to slip out of the room when— 

“Ohhh shit! If it isn’t the one and only Wesley Weston!” 

Fucking hell. 

He turns and levels as unimpressed of a look as he can manage at Danny. 

“Imagine that. It’s almost like I fucking live here.” 

Danny swipes up a plastic cup and then proceeds to walk through the table towards him. People act like they’re finding out all over again. 

“Oh come on, Wes. You’re not still mad are you?” He comes up to him and slouches against the archway’s frame. 

Wes scrapes his tongue along his teeth. “Mad? What could I possibly be mad about?”

Danny looks at him like a puzzle. 

When he talks his voice is quiet, hard to hear over the music. “I dunno, the fact that you knew all along but no one ever listened? They thought you were crazy and you weren’t but no one's even said sorry?” His lips quirk up at the corner and Wes can smell the artificial black cherry dancing on the top of the alcohol in his breath. 

He wrinkles his nose and it has nothing to do with the smell. 

“I was being facetious, prick.” 

Danny smiles bigger, and his eyes glitter, something doe-eyed.  

“Right. So you are still mad?” 

He pushes air through his teeth. 

“Not like it matters,” he says, looking away from Danny, drifting over the room. “Where’s your chaperones? Weird to see you anywhere alone.” 

Danny just stares at him for a few seconds before understanding sparks. 

“Ah. Sam’s got a family thing. Tuck took a closing shift.” He waves a hand and his head lolls against the wall with a thunk. He lifts the cup to his lips and takes a swig. 

Everything about him looks heavy. It’s weird for Danny.  

“Have you tried the jungle juice your brother made?” he says. “It sucks. You’ve gotta try it.” 

Wes lifts a brow and crosses his arms over his chest. 

“How many’ve you had?” 

Danny looks down into his cup, swirls its contents. It’s silent for several seconds too long. 

“I’m not really sure, honestly. Didn’t know I was supposed to keep count.” 

Wes slides a hand down his face. 

Jesus Christ. 

“Listen, maybe you should slow down—”

“Yo! Fenton! Stop flirting with Wes and fucking get over here, we’re not done.” Dash calls across the room and— 

Flirting?! 

They weren’t fucking flirting. 

What the fuck.

Wes’s face heats up far beyond the liquor in his veins. 

Danny looks up and flashes Dash a thumbs up. And then Danny is even closer—grabbing his arm. The chill of his hand goes right through to his stomach. 

“Hey,” he breathes, “come watch me outdrink Dash.”

“Why would I wanna do that?” He ignores the way his breath flutters in his lungs, the way he feels light all the way to his toes.

Danny smiles like what he’s about to say is a secret—like it’s just for him, and all of a sudden Wes wants to be as far from Danny as humanly possible.

“Isn’t watching Dash lose at something for once reason enough?” 

Wes forces himself to keep breathing and he swallows. 

“Fine,” is all he can force out and then Danny is dragging him towards the table. He ignores all the people looking at them. 

The fragmented group of A-listers cheer again and Dash slams a bottle of Fireball onto the table, making people's drinks jump and slosh. 

“Let’s kick it up a notch, shall we?” he says, grin just shy of evil. 

“Where’d you get that?” Wes asks. 

Dash cocks a brow. “Paulina found it? Duh.” 

God, Kyle really wasn’t joking about getting people fucked up. 

Wes is not going to clean up anyone’s puke this time. This shit is all on Kyle. 

“Dude, is it even cold?” Danny asks. 

“No, it wasn’t in the freezer long enough,” Paulina says. She’s drinking from a champagne flute for some fucking reason. He didn’t even know they had those. 

“Gimme that,” Danny says, swiping it from Dash. “No way in hell I’m drinking warm whiskey.” 

His eyes glow blue, and when he breathes out its a thin vapor. Frost creeps over the glass and Wes can’t help but shiver.

“Dude, fucking wicked. I’m still not over this,” Dash breathes, clapping his hands together. 

How could Wes forget that Dash is Phantom’s number one fanboy after all?

But Danny isn’t looking at Dash—he’s looking at him. 

Only it’s different this time. Because before it was always a taunt, blatantly rubbing it in Wes’ face when he used his powers and no one else noticed.

But the way Danny is looking at him now… like he’s waiting for something, thinking about something.

Danny hands back the Fireball and his eyes slip away from Wes and he feels like a fish wrenched from water. 

What the hell was that? 

“Fuck yeah, Fenton.” Dash unscrews the whiskey, flicks the cap off the mouth with a finger, sending it flying. He pours directly into their cups, the liquid glugging through the frosted neck of the bottle.

“Two shots of vodka,” someone says and everyone laughs.

“No chasers?” Danny asks, eyeing his cup. 

Dash puts down the Fireball. “What’s the matter, you scared of the burn?” 

“Not a chance,” he says, and holds out his cup to Dash. They cheers each other and then they’re throwing it back. 

It sinks in his stomach like a rock. There’s no way this ends well. 

.

It’s on the sixth round of Fireball that Dash starts to look green. He sets down his cup and leans on the table. He stares at the clear storage container of jungle juice and Kwan comes up beside him, pats his arm. 

“Dude, maybe you should call it.” 

“I’m fine, ‘s fine…” His words slur together. He tries to stand up straight and Kwan and Paulina both have to keep him up right. 

Danny laughs. “Not lookin’ great, Baxter,” he says, his own words falling sluggishly from his mouth. Danny goes to lift his cup to his lips again and Wes puts his hand over it. 

“Nope. You two are done.” 

“Come on, Wes. Don’t be a buzzkill. I’m good!” Danny says. “Dash is the one that lost!” He flings his hand towards Dash and knocks the Fireball over, spilling it all over the table.

The group all crows at once, a choir of “oh shit” “nice one” and “duuuude noooo”’s. A few people rush to grab their phones from harm's way.

Danny blinks at the table. “Oops,” he says. 

A smile splits his face and he starts chuckling. It builds from him, a laugh, something outside of him—beyond him. 

He laughs until he’s doubled over, holding onto Wes to keep himself stable. 

“Yeah, that’s it. You’ve had more than enough.” He grabs Danny’s cup from him before he can spill that too and drinks it himself. The cinnamon burns through his sinuses and he shudders. Ugh. 

Danny straightens and sways just a bit, stumbling into him—their faces inches apart.

“Hey, that was mine,” he says, voice twisted in a pout. “Not cool.” His breath is cold, thick with the smell of whiskey. 

Wes feels frozen, feels like he can’t breathe. 

His heart pounds in his chest and he prays Danny isn’t so close he can feel it. 

Around them the choir starts again, a chorus of suggestive “ooo”’s. He can feel their eyes on him and it makes his skin crawl. 

Fucking dammit, this is all Fenton’s fault. 

He pushes Danny away from him. Not fast or rough, just to arms length. He coughs. 

“Star, you should go to the kitchen and get them both some water,” he says. 

She gives him an annoyed look. 

“I don’t see you doing anything else,” he snaps. 

“I’m drunk too, you know,” she says, but gets up and leaves towards the kitchen. 

Paulina and Kwan coax Dash into a chair, and he puts his head down on the table, groaning. A few others are sopping up the Fireball with paper towels. 

Danny sags in his grip, goofy smile still plastered all over his face. 

“I’ve never been drunk before, this is awesome,” he says. 

Wes rolls his eyes, and maneuvers Danny into a chair. His head lolls back and he stares at the ceiling for a second before perking back up and trying to go for someone else's cup. 

“Dude, I’m serious.” Wes moves the cup out of his reach. “Quit while you’re ahead.” 

Danny groans, sinking down in his chair like he’s boneless. 

“Come on, Wes,” he says. “You think I don’t know my own limits?” 

“You just said this is your first time being drunk.” 

Danny blows a raspberry. 

Star walks back into the room and hands Wes a glass of water and then slides one across the table at Dash. 

“Here. Wanna drink? Drink this.” 

“Ugh, fine,” he says. 

He’s a few swigs into it when he stops. 

“God, it’s hot in here. Is anyone else hot?” And before anyone can answer his eyes glow that bright blue and a chill works through the air, plummets the temperature. 

“Danny—” Goosebumps rise over Wes’ skin and his breath fogs from his mouth. 

At varying levels of exasperation, the people around cry out. 

“Dude, cut that out,” he says, smacking Danny’s arm. 

“Ow, why are you hitting me?” 

“Because you’re being a pain in the ass.” 

Danny looks at him, blinks heavy eyelids. He smiles. 

“What.” 

“Nothing, you just… You’re cute when you’re all annoyed sometimes.” 

The ground feels like it opens up underneath him. 

His thoughts screech to a stop. It smells like burnt rubber, like cinnamon and black cherry. 

It’s just the alcohol. No fucking way Danny of all people would say that to him. 

“You really are drunk,” he says, but his voice sounds off kilter. 

Across the house the last song fades out and Usher’s Yeah comes on. People scream and cheer. 

“Holy shit, I love this song,” Danny says and stands up. He sways and catches himself on the edge of the table, starts laughing again. “Whew, that was close. The spinning is normal, right?” 

Fucking Christ, how did he end up on babysitting duty again? He rubs his temples. 

Is he really about to do this? 

“You should lay down.” He heaves a sigh. “Come on.” 

“Jeez, Wes, that's pretty forward,” Danny says, wiggling his eyebrows. 

Heat flashes through him. 

“Would you just shut up,” he hisses. “And stop making it cold. Jesus.” 

Danny snorts and when he moves from the table he wobbles. Wes grabs him before he topples and slings Danny’s arm over his shoulder to keep him up. 

Danny leans into him, almost unbalances them.

“You got a problem with the cold, Wes?” he says, this time his cold breath is against the side of his neck. It sends chills down his spine. 

“I don’t have to help you, you know,” he says, voice thick. “You can get alcohol poisoning for all I care.” 

“You’re a bad liar, Wes.” 

Wes yanks Danny along beside him and out of the dining room. 

“Shut up, Danny. You’re drunk.” 

He hauls Danny past the living room and the knot of people dancing and singing. A few call out to them, ask them to come have fun. He steers them away before Danny can pull away and join them. 

“But I wanna have fun, Wes,” he whines. 

“Dude, you can’t even stand without my help right now, you really wanna try dancing?” 

“Dance with me, then.” 

Wes stops. He looks over at Danny and… 

He— 

He blinks, shakes his head.

“No, not—not right now,” he mumbles. 

“There’s a whole reason I came alone, you know,” Danny says. 

“What, so you could get fucked up and no one would stop you?” 

“Yeah! I mean… well, that’s part of it.” 

Wes guides them towards the stairs, ignoring the looks. 

“Your house is bigger than it looks from the outside,” Danny says. 

“Thanks?” 

“Mmhm.”

God. This is so not what he thought tonight was going to be like. 

“Where are we going?” Danny asks. 

“Somewhere you can lay down and sober up.” 

“Tha’s not vague.” 

Wes starts pulling Danny up the staircase. The second floor is dark, and he gropes around to hit the light. 

The first few steps are fine, which is to say the next steps aren’t fine. 

What he’s saying is that Danny says, “oh shit.” 

And then he’s falling—pulling Wes down with him. 

More accurately, Danny trips and pulls Wes down on top of him. 

They end up in a heap and Danny groans like someone does when they fall on the fucking stairs.

“Ow.” He reaches for the back of his head. Then he’s laughing, like it's the funniest goddamn thing in the world, what just happened. His face screws up, the face of someone who doesn’t know he’s in pain, just pretending.

“Seriously?” Wes snaps. His shin smarts—must have hit it on the stairs. 

“Sorry, sorry.” He laughs each syllable. “You good?” 

“No, I’m not—” And he looks down and he realizes how close they are. Realizes the way Danny’s hair falls into his face, the light catching the slope of his jaw. 

Danny quiets at the same time and it’s like they get stuck there. Like nothing else exists other than this staircase and this moment and the way Danny feels cool and solid like a summer night underneath him. 

“Hey,” Danny says—sounds almost breathless. “Come here often?” 

Wes rolls his eyes and just like that the moment is over. 

“Ugh.” He pushes himself up, detangles himself from Danny. 

Danny reaches for him, that stupid smile back on his face.

“Oh come on, Wes,” he says. 

“Quit messing around, dude.” 

Danny pushes himself up, runs a hand through his hair and Wes tracks the motion with his eyes against his best wishes. 

“You’re so mean. I could have a concussion and this is how you treat me?” 

Wes stands up and straightens his clothes. “You’re fine.” 

Danny gives him a look and then something sparks in his eyes. “I’m going to text Sam and Tucker and tell them how mean you are to me.” 

Psh. He says that like they don’t already hate him. 

“Would you just get up?” 

“These stairs are actually kinda comfy,” he says, head rolling back, sinking back down and closing his eyes. “I think I’ll just stay here.” 

Wes kicks his leg. 

“You can lay down in the room. Get up.” 

Danny heaves a sigh, throws an arm over his eyes. 

“Fiiinnneee.” He pulls himself up by the handrail, stops in a sitting position. “Jesus,” he says, voice just above a whisper. His breathing gets weird. It makes Wes pause. 

“You okay?” 

“...Spinning,” Danny breathes. He’s quiet for a bit, and Wes just lets him sit there. Danny holds his head in his hands for a while.  

Worry creeps into the back of his mind. Maybe Danny wasn’t kidding about the concussion thing. Maybe he should get someone— 

Then Danny is standing up and Wes steadys his other arm. 

“I got you,” he says. “Feeling okay?” 

Danny sends him a weak smile. “Yeah. Laying down does sound good though," he mumbles.  

They make it up the rest of the stairs, and Danny leans against the wall as Wes opens the door to his room. 

It’s dark and quiet inside and he flips on the light. 

He helps Danny in, and he flops face first onto his bed. He groans and rolls over. 

“I’m thinking those last few shots of Fireball were a bad idea…” 

Wes snorts and closes the door softly behind him. 

“Oh, just the last few, huh?” 

“I was havin’ fun, smartass,” Danny grumbles. 

Wes leans back against his dresser and crosses his arms. “I said you should have stopped but noooo, no one listens to Wes.” 

It gets quiet and he can feel the heaviness in the air. He clears his throat. “If you throw up in my bed, I’m kicking you out the window.” 

“I’m not going to throw up.” 

“Famous last words, Fenton.” 

“Shaddup,” Danny says, and it gets quiet. 

Wes can feel the bass from the music through the floor, the muffled sound of singing, laughing, talking. He’s used to ducking out at parties early. He’s used to laying in bed and listening to the songs through the walls until the voices slowly fade and the house is empty again. He listens to Kyle stumble up to bed and knock into the walls and yell “I’m okay” when he does.

He’s not used to having… company. 

Danny sits up like a puppet on too few strings. He makes a frustrated noise.

“It’s still hot,” he sighs. 

“It’s the alcohol, dude.” 

Danny runs his hands over his face, and then reaches back and starts pulling his hoodie off. It drags his shirt up with it and Wes can’t help but look. He looks at the multitude of scars staining Danny’s skin and the way his muscles move over his ribs and—he pulls his gaze away and studies the floor instead. 

“This is your bedroom, huh?” 

“Yep.” 

“Doesn’t look how I thought it would.” 

Wes wrinkles his nose. “How'd you think it would look?”

Danny takes his time looking around the room, hoodie pooled in his lap, before he looks at Wes and gives a boneless shrug. 

“I dunno. More,” he holds his hands up, splays his fingers, “raah!” 

“I… don’t know what that means.” 

“You know! Like… newspaper-clipping red-web on all the walls,” Danny says, smile creeping back. 

Wes squints at Danny. He pushes off his dresser. 

“That’s still all you think of me?” He picks a pillow from his bed and throws it at Danny’s face. Danny lets out a yelp. 

“Besides, I took all that shit down when the truth came out anyway,” he says, trying and failing to keep the inkling of a smile from his voice. 

Danny looks at him blankly for a second before he starts to smile again. 

“Wait, was that… Did you just make a joke?” 

Wes snorts. 

“You did! Holy shit, Wes has a sense of humor, this is bigger news than my shit. I gotta tell everyone.” 

Danny looks soft, sitting like this in the middle of his bed, eyes warm in a way Wes didn’t realize they could be. 

Something in him loosens. 

“Good luck getting people to believe you…” he says. 

“Oh, how the turn tables,” Danny says, and for a bit all they do is smile at each other. 

Danny looks away first, he glances up at the light and squints. 

“You got a light that isn’t so fuckin’ bright?” 

“I thought the light sensitivity was supposed to happen the morning after drinking.” 

“You’re full of jokes tonight.” 

Wes rolls his eyes and flips on the bedside lamp and then shuts off the overhead light. 

Danny hums and flops back down. “Better,” he says.

It’s silent for a few beats and Danny lifts his head to look at him. He smacks the comforter a few times with a flat hand. 

Wes blanches; he’s all too aware of himself, of Danny and the dim light and the closed door. 

“Dude, chill,” Danny says, like he can read his mind—wait, he can’t actually do that, right? Ghosts can’t do that? 

“Sit down or something. You just standing there watching me is creepy,” Danny says. 

Wes swallows his own heartbeat, shakes his head. “Seriously, between the two of us, I’m not the creepy one.” 

“Says the stalker.” 

“I didn’t stalk you.” 

Danny gives him a look, with raised eyebrows and everything. 

Wes sits on the side of the bed, scoots back so he’s leaned against the headboard. 

“I was… investigating.” 

Danny laughs. “Sure, dude. Whatever you say,” and his voice is like smoke—hickory and rough but winding through the air like silk.  

They fall into an amiable silence, cotton soft, but cold. Danny has an arm over his eyes again, and his breathing is so slow it’s hard to pick out from the music downstairs. 

He rakes a hand through his hair and takes out his phone. He unlocks it and scrolls mindlessly for a while. 

He can’t focus. 

Not with Danny so close like this. Not when everything is different now. His mind drifts off and he tries to keep track of every breath, wonders if he’s fallen asleep— 

“Hey, Wes.” 

He jumps. Just a little bit. 

“Y-yeah?” 

“I’m sorry.” 

He puts his phone down. 

“...For what?”

“For making everyone think you were crazy.” 

Wes twists his hand in his comforter. Why the hell is Danny apologizing to him? After everything he’s done to him… tried to do to him. It gets stuck in his throat. 

“It’s… You don’t have to—” he wishes he’d had a few more drinks. 

“Nah. I do. Looking back, I didn’t handle you knowing very well.” 

He chews on his lip. He’s never felt so out of place. 

“Danny…” 

Danny moves his arm and looks up at him and his courage almost shrivels. 

“I’m the one who should apologize. Not you. I—” He balls his hands into fists. “What I did, trying to basically out you, that wasn’t… that wasn’t okay.” 

“You didn’t know the whole situation.” 

“Did I need to? It was still fucked up and. I’m sorry. I was so wrapped up in wanting to be right that I didn’t care what it could have done to you.” 

It feels like glass coming up from his throat. 

He’s lost sleep, engraved in the ceiling all the ways he fucked up, all the times he's glad now that no one listened to him. His eyes feel hot and there’s no way in hell he’s going to fucking get emotional in front of Danny. 

“It all worked out in the end,” Danny says. He says it easy, gentle. “You were still technically right, though, so… There’s that.” 

Wes huffs. “Yeah. I guess.” He fights through all the mess. “I don’t know how this didn’t happen sooner though. You were terrible at hiding it.” 

Danny props himself up on his elbows. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, dude, I'm a great liar.” 

Wes leans his head back on the headboard. “Sure, but you’re reckless as hell. How many times did you stick your arm through your locker in front of God and everyone?” 

Danny smiles wide and bright. 

“Honestly, after a while, it was just fun to see how far I could go before anyone noticed.” 

Wes can’t help but chuckle. “Pretty far, obviously.”  

“No kidding.” 

Wes runs his palms over his jeans. 

“You’re good though, right?” Wes looks anywhere but Danny. “At home and all that.” 

“Oh. Yeah. It was, uhm, a lot for my parents. But we’re getting there.” 

“Good… That’s good.” The words feel sharp and blocky, and he doesn’t know what else to say. What else can he say? 

His buzz pulls away from him, pulls him down, makes his lids heavy. 

“How do you think Dash is doing?” Danny says. 

“Pf. If he isn’t hugging a trashcan right now, I’ll be shocked.” 

Danny laughs. 

Wes leans over onto some of his pillows. 

“How are you this okay after drinking all that?” 

Danny shrugs. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m feeling it. My guess is something to do with the healing factor ghost shit.” 

“Right, makes sense.” 

He feels tired and heavy and the darkness at the corners of the room get fuzzier. 

“Paulina brought her own champagne glass,” Danny tells him. And he laughs because, who does that? 

He rolls onto his back and they stare at the ceiling.

“Are you kidding? Paulina does that, it’s Paulina,” Danny says. 

They stare at the ceiling like it’s not a ceiling, like it might become more than just ceiling. Wes imagines it disappearing completely.

Danny likes stars, doesn’t he? 

When Danny talks again it’s like he’s far away. An arms length, an atmosphere’s length… he doesn’t know. 

Danny says, “sucks that I’m missing the Super Smash Tournament.” 

Wes tries to keep his eyes from slipping shut. The bed pulls him like quicksand, the smell of sleep. “Trust me, dude, Kyle always wins anyway.” 

Danny says something, something about who he mains or doesn’t main. It becomes all the same, the sluggish rise and fall. 

At some point between light and dark Wes decides that he likes the sound of Danny’s voice. He somehow likes that the room is colder than it usually is. 

And maybe somewhere between all that he decides some other stuff too. 

— 

Wes wakes up before Danny. The sun streams in through a gap in his curtains, pooling on the wall and floor.

He doesn’t have a headache, but his neck hurts like hell. 

Danny is lying on his side faced away from him and, fuck, thank God. He thinks about last night, about Danny in his arms and he— 

He sits up and rubs his hands over his warm cheeks. 

Water. He should get some water. 

He slips out of his room and goes downstairs to the kitchen. The house is quiet. 

Well. 

Mostly. 

He can hear the sink running and the clink of glass. When he comes around the corner he sees Kyle washing dishes. The house is only half as trashed as he thought it’d be. 

Kyle looks up at him as he walks in. 

“Morning.” 

He grunts, going to pluck a clean glass from the drying rack. 

“Hangover?” 

“Nah. Slept wrong.” He fills his glass at the fridge and downs it all at once. The water helps wash the sour taste from his mouth. Ugh, he should still brush his teeth. 

He fills the glass again and heads back upstairs. He pushes back into his room and when the door creaks he sees Danny jump. 

He walks around the bed and offers the glass to a squinting Danny. 

“Awake?” he asks. 

Danny groans and pushes himself up. His hair is messy, hanging in his eyes. It's infuriating. 

He rubs the side of his face and when he takes the cup their fingers brush. 

“Thanks,” he murmurs. 

“We have pop-tarts and cereal and shit downstairs.” 

Danny gives him a thumbs up while he drinks. 

He wants to ask if he’s okay... He decides to leave it for later. 

Wes leaves his room and goes back to the kitchen. When he gets there, he pulls the pop-tarts down from the cabinet. 

“So, here’s what I’m thinking,” Kyle says, “if you wanna clean the dining room, I’ll clean the living room.” 

“Nope, no. This was your thing, dude. You threw the party.” 

“But Wes,” he whines, “Dad’s gonna be home tonight.” 

“Then you should probably get started,” he says and claps him on the shoulder on his way to the toaster.

“Dude, cold blooded. You’re just gonna watch me slave away for hours and not even help your own brother?” 

“Uh... yeah.” He slots the pop-tarts into the toaster. He turns towards Kyle and leans against the counter, grinning at him. 

Kyle gives him a look. 

“How much.” 

“No. No, I’m not gonna be bought this time.” 

“Twenty bucks.” 

“Kyle.”

“Fine, you drive a hard bargain. Forty.” 

“Jesus Christ.” 

“‘This time?’ What happened last time?” 

They jump and look at Danny as he comes down the stairs. He has his hoodie slung over a shoulder and the half empty water glass in his hand. 

“Holy shit,” Kyle says. 

“It’s not important,” he says, sending a glare at the back of Kyle’s head. 

Danny walks up to the counter and sets the glass down to pull his hoodie on. 

“No fucking way,” Kyle says, voice pitched up. “I didn’t believe it when everyone was talking about it last night, holy shit.” 

Danny tugs the hem of his hoodie down and gives Kyle a confused look that he moves over to Wes.

He returns the look, just as lost.

“Dude, what the hell are you talking about?” 

“You two hooking up last night,” Kyle says, like it’s obvious.

It feels like for a second time stops—  

Hooking up?

Hooking up?! 

His heart skips in his chest and heat rushes to his face and the tips of his ears. He feels like he’s been slapped across the face.

Danny looks like a deer in the headlights. 

“Uh—” 

The toaster pops. 

“Which, can I just say, I totally called it. I knew there had to be another reason Wes was so obsessed with yo—” 

“Kyle!” he snaps, his voice higher than he anticipated. “Kyle, oh my fucking god, shut up. We didn’t— Nothing happened last night, we just—”  

His breath feels tight in his throat and he wants to lock himself in his room forever. He can’t make himself look at Danny. 

“Who the hell told you that-that we—” 

“Uh, dude, a bunch of people saw you guys go into your room together. You know Pualina was telling me that Danny was all over yo—”

“Okay! Thank you, Kyle!” he cuts in. “Jesus fucking—” He buries his face in his hands. 

This is it, this is how he’s going to die. 

“I’m just glad for you two! I mean, like, jeez, finally!” 

“Kyle, I’ll help you clean if you shut up right now and never bring this up ever again.” 

Kyle stops, face lighting up. “Dude, deal.” 

“Cool. Now please leave.” 

“What?” 

Wes grabs him by the arm and starts dragging him out of the kitchen. “Leave. Go get the cleaning shit from the garage or some shit, I don’t know.” 

“Oh. Ohhhh, I see. I get you. I’ll leave you two kids alone to enjoy your breakfast together,” he says with a wink and holy fuck, he’s going to kill his fucking brother.

Kyle heads for the stairs and calls down, “Lemme know when it’s safe to come back down!” 

Wes drags his hands down his face. He lets out a slow breath and he tries to ignore his pounding heart. 

Wes goes to the nearest counter and puts his head down. The surface is cold against his burning skin. He groans like an injured animal and at this point he really wishes someone would put him out of his misery. 

“Well…” Danny says from behind him.

 He hears Danny moving and the sound of the fridge being opened. He looks up, watches as Danny takes orange juice from the fridge. When he turns around he sees his face is red too. 

“I mean… hardly the worst rumor to get spread around about us,” he says. That stupid smile makes its way onto Danny’s face. 

“I once had this dude tell everyone at school that I was a ghost. It was super weird.” 

Wes shakes his head. “Dude, shut up.” But he can’t help the grin that pulls at his lips. 

Danny laughs, a quieter thing today than it was last night. 

“I can have some, right?” he asks, lifting the OJ. 

“Yeah, it’s fine.” 

They fall into silence while Danny pours a glass and Wes goes to numbly retrieve his pop-tarts. 

“It’s probably spread through all of Casper now, huh.” 

Danny glances at him. Something dances through his expression. He hums as he takes a drink of his juice. 

“Uh. Probably further than that, now that everyone knows I'm… you know.” Danny shoots him an uneasy look.

Right. Right. 

This was just getting better and better. 

He takes a bite of his pop-tart. It crumbles in his mouth like sand. 

“Are you… okay?” Danny asks. He reaches back and rubs his neck, and dammit, now he’s just adding insult to injury. 

He looks at him, and he sees the nerves in the way he holds himself, stitched into the way the light hits him. He’s not asking just one question.

Wes swallows. 

“Yeah… Yeah, I mean, like you said. There could be way worse rumors,” he says. He looks at Danny like he’s too far away, like he enjoyed last night way more than he should have. And he sees it in Danny too, some sort of mirror. 

“I think so too,” Danny says, heavy the way he exhales it. 

They break eye contact and Wes doesn’t really know what to do, what to say. 

“Well, uh. You have cleaning to do, I guess. I should probably get home before my parents get too freaked out.” 

Wes nods. “Yeah, probably.” He wonders if Danny knows what’s in his voice. The dark from last night is clouding his mind, pulling him, begging him to just say it.   

“Yeah… I’ll, uh, see you at school?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Cool.” 

But Danny doesn't move. 

He lingers like a shadow. He looks like he wants to go. He looks like he wants to stay. 

“Wes,” he says. 

Wes looks at him.  

He worries at his bottom lip and moves along the counter towards him. 

“Thanks. For last night.” 

He lets out a puff. “Well, someone had to make sure you didn’t die the rest of the way from alcohol poisoning.” 

Danny rolls his eyes. 

“I wasn’t that bad.” 

“You were pretty bad.” 

“Not even.” Danny smiles.

And they’re close again, sharing each other's space. 

“It wasn’t… awful, I guess,” he says before he can stop himself. “Even with you being a pain in the ass the entire time.” 

“Maybe we could do it again sometime,” Danny murmurs.

“What, me looking after your drunk ass the whole night?” 

Danny snorts. “No, I was thinking more like I match you drink for drink instead,” he says. 

“At least then you’d last till the Smash tournament.” 

Danny glances away. 

“I didn’t mind missing it too much, actually.” 

Wes’s breath gets stuck and his heart beats like a drum in his ribcage. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah…” 

In some ways it’s just like last night; Danny’s close enough he can feel the movement of his breath between them. 

“It’s way more fun, bothering you.” 

It’s a slow motion sort of thing, a hair raising thing. 

“Well you’re an expert at it by now.” 

Wes thinks about theme parks. Sitting at the top of the sky and just before his stomach drops—

“Always room for improvement. I could get better at it if you want me to.” 

And what if he does? What if he wants to see Danny in all the ways he can? What if he wants to know Danny for real this time?  

Maybe he wants pictures, proof that it’s real. 

Maybe it’s always been leading to this. 

Maybe it’s fucked up. 

Wes having the power to hurt him all over again. 

“Drink for drink?” he says, barely a whisper. 

“Drink for drink,” Danny says—closer, closer, breath against his lips. 

Danny gives him time to pull away. But Wes doesn’t. Something to do with what he decided last night.  

“Prove it.”

[shoutogepi]

A Million Times Over, part 1

┌────── ⋆⋅✧⋅⋆ ──────┐

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Todoroki Shouto x American!Reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 11.3k holy shit this is so long guys. fuck.

[ ☀︎, ☁︎, ✘ (nsfw!) ] (series warnings)

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : some NSFW themes but no actual smut. a lot of pining and angst. some cute moments too tho!

𝐛𝐢𝐨 : You lose all memories from the past five years of your life due to an accident-induced coma, including any recollection of your beloved boyfriend and fellow pro-hero, Shouto. He’s devastated that you don’t remember him, but the both of you are determined to get your memories back, no matter how long it takes. In the meantime, you attempt to rebuild your relationship with him… while also nurturing the spark that’s still very much lit between you two.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : Originally I intended for this to just be a long fic… but even for my standards, this would be wayyy too long to be just in one post. I decided to split the fic into three instead, so this will be the first part of my very first multi-chap series, A Million Times Over, for my beloved Sho <3

𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : big thank you to my sweet friend @todoscript​ for beta-reading this for me and hyping me up!! love you, can’t wait to read what you have in the works soon <3

└────── ⋆⋅✧⋅⋆ ──────┘

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

“.../n”

…

“.. y/n…”

…

🅃he buzzing noise in your ears sharpened. White light snuck between your eyelids and you groaned, fingers reaching toward your temple. Confusion burst forth as you recognized foreign, plastic tubing connected to your skin, your eyes opening wider as you began to register your surroundings.

You were in a hospital room. To be more exact, you were in the bed in the middle of the hospital room— meaning, you were the patient. The realization shocked you, and you jolted upright abruptly, suddenly all too aware of the tubes stuck up your nose. At your sudden movement, large, warm hands landed on your arms and rubbed at your skin gently, making your attention turn to the person sitting at your bedside.

“Y/n? Hey, you’re okay, love, it's alright. You’re safe, I’ve got you.” His voice was smooth and deep, an anchor for you to grab onto in the midst of your confusion.

You were gawking, staring straight at him— you couldn't help it. Your jaw was probably hanging open, gaping like a fish at the man before you. What were you in the hospital for exactly— had you gone insane and dreamed this situation up?

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

“Sh-Shouto Todoroki,” you mumbled, gaze connected with his tired but bright, heterochromatic orbs. His brow furrowed and his head tilted slightly at your courteous acknowledgement, but he brushed it aside and smiled at you instead.

Your heart was pounding in your chest as you took in his form beside you. He was tall— you could tell even though he was seated— and he was more handsome than you’d ever imagined, somewhere in his mid-to-late twenties judging by the sharp, masculine features of his face.

“Y/n…,” he breathed out, a large, calloused hand coming up to cup your jaw. Then he pulled you into a hug, his strong, muscular arms wrapping around your torso and cradling the back of your head to press you into his chest. He smelled of clean laundry and winter, a crisp, fresh scent that made an unknown comfort blossom in your chest.

Slowly you placed an arm around his neck, your other hand laying limp on the sheets as it was still connected to the IV. You rubbed his back slightly, still dazed by your apparent situation. Looking outside the open window in the corner of the room, you realized it was daytime; yellow sunlight beaming into the room and pouring onto the tiled floor. There were vases of flowers all around the room, as well as stuffed animals, cards, and balloons that all wished for your health and speedy recovery.

“I’m so glad you’re awake,” Shouto whispered into your shoulder, still holding you tight in his embrace. His voice was still low, but this time it shook with profound emotion. “I missed you… so much.”

Your body felt relaxed in his arms, even though your brain was whirring a thousand miles a minute. You had no clue how you’d ended up in the hospital, who sent you all these gifts, where you even were geographically, and most importantly, why Shouto Todoroki was holding onto you like you meant the world to him. You patted his back stiffly and he let go of you just enough to move his face in front of yours. His eyes held such love and relief, the emotions as clear as day that butterflies ruptured from your stomach. As if his expression wasn’t enough to get your heart racing, he leaned forward and captured your lips, pressing his mouth to yours in a firm but sweet kiss.

It only lasted for a minute, but it was enough to have your heart rate monitor start beeping rapidly, noisily chiming at the other side of your bed. His face was so perfect and smooth up close— you couldn’t close your eyes as you took in his astonishing beauty. Sure, you’d imagined he would be perfect… but in person, here before you, he was indescribable. The man of your dreams. And a good kisser, too.

A nurse rushed into the room, seemingly out of breath. When she caught sight of the two of you, your lips locked, and Shouto holding you so tenderly, she let out an awkward cough and pawed at her scrubs, averting her eyes as she approached your bedside. Shouto pulled away, only to plant a soft kiss on the very tip of your nose before leaning back into his seat. He had a wide smile on his lips, content-crinkled eyes settled on you as his hand enveloped yours.

“So you’re awake!” the nurse stated excitedly, busying around with the beeping machine, managing to shut the blasted thing off. “How are you feeling? Any pain, discomfort?”

You glanced at Shouto, who smiled at you warmly and squeezed your hand. If that heart rate machine was still on, surely it would be going haywire again. “Uhh, I think I’m okay… just kinda groggy,” you replied truthfully, your voice coming out hoarse. You cleared your throat and she handed you a small cup of water, which you took gratefully. You continued on after taking a few sips, the liquid cooling your irritated throat. “No pain, but I’m a little… confused, to be honest.”

“I’m sure you are, hon,” the nurse said, giving you a smile full of understanding. It made you feel a little less on edge, and you gave her a half-hearted smile back. “You were in a bad accident almost a month ago. You suffered some head trauma, and you’ve been in a coma ever since. You also had two bruised ribs, and some minor surface wounds. The cuts are all gone now, and your ribs should be almost all healed by now as well, but if you have any discomfort on your left side here,” she gestured to your ribs and continued, “just let me know. I’ll page your doctor and we’ll do a quick check-up on you in just a minute!”

You nodded slowly, the gears turning in your head. You were in an accident, and then a coma for a whole month? It all seemed so crazy to you— you can’t remember a single thing leading up to your supposed accident. Head trauma… you weren’t usually the type to get hurt, and you’d never been in a coma before. “Umm… what kind of accident was it?” you asked, looking between Shouto and the nurse, not really directing the question to either of them specifically.

“You were flung into a cement pillar during a fight, love. The blow was mostly on your side, hence your bruised ribs… but your head smacked into the pillar secondarily,” Shouto replied, his smile disappearing as an unfamiliar bitterness washed over his handsome face. “We were battling together and you were knocked unconscious instantly… you’ve been asleep ever since.”

“A fight..?” you frowned, tilting your head in confusion. “We were fighting, and you threw me against a… cement pillar?”

Shouto looked horrified at your misunderstanding, adamantly shaking his head and making his soft, two-toned hair shine in the sunlight. “No, I would never hurt you— the villain did, baby. I incapacitated them right after,” he paused, eyes casting downwards and his free hand forming into a fist at the memory, “but the damage had already been done...”

That sounded right… your job was herowork, you could at least recall that. But you didn’t think you’d ever fought beside a hero as great and renowned as Japan’s famed dual-tempered Shouto. Sure, you’d been doing your best to climb the American hero leaderboard, but you weren’t by any means at the top yet. “Umm… can you tell me.. why we were fighting a villain together, exactly?”

Shouto looked directly at you, his brow furrowing before he looked to the nurse on the other side of your bed. They shared a look, and you shuffled uncomfortably in the cotton sheets pulled up to your waist, unease sitting like a rock in your stomach.

“Y/N, can you tell me what you remember before the accident?” Shouto asked slowly, his grip on your hand tightening just a fraction. There was a sliver of something else in his voice now, a hint of urgency in his request.

You looked between him and the nurse hesitantly, racking your brain for anything you could think of. “Uhh… I don’t… I don’t remember, I— I’m sorry.”

“That’s alright hon, don’t worry. It’s common to have some confusion after just waking up from a coma. We can try an easier question. Let’s see… do you know your birthday?”

You responded instantly, and there was the tiniest amount of relief on Shouto’s face at your correct response.

“Your mother’s maiden name?”

You got that one right too, Shouto’s thumb rubbing over your knuckles soothingly in silent praise.

“How about your phone number?”

You took a second to think of it, but you answered that one too. The nurse looked over at Shouto to see his reaction, and so did you. But Shouto was frowning at you, making dread drip into your veins. “That’s your US number, love… what’s your Japanese number?”

You looked at him incredulously. “My Japanese number? Why would I need a Japanese number?” you inquired, thinking this must have been some kind of trick question.

The nurse and Shouto shared a more serious look, and Shouto swallowed as he looked away from you, turning toward the window instead. You squeezed at his hand but he didn’t respond, so you turned to the nurse instead, confused now more than ever.

“I don’t understand…,” you mumbled, hoping for some clarification from her. She smiled at you, but this time it did not reach her eyes.

“You’re in Japan, hon. You’re speaking Japanese right now… and you’re also one of the top heroes in Japan, just like your boyfriend here.”

⋆⋅✧⋅⋆⋅✧⋅⋆⋅✧⋅⋆

The next few days passed by in a blur. The hospital staff was all very kind and hospitable, but it still felt like you had woken up in the middle of someone else’s life. Even though your body was yours, and you looked just the same, you couldn’t help the unease that lingered from your imposter syndrome.

You had gone through so many tests and check-ups that they all blended together at this point. You had been poked, prodded, and quizzed the entire time since you’d woken up from your coma. There were so many different tests regarding your memory that your brain felt like melted jelly by now, and your frustration was at an all-time high.

Shouto had gotten up and left the room shortly after the nurse informed you of your situation. Your heart felt heavy for him— he seemed so excited, so relieved that you were finally awake— and this was the devastating reality that he was left to face. After patiently waiting at your bedside for weeks, this was the bitter pill he had to swallow when you had finally come-to… you imagined that he was not eager to confront such a terrible twist of fate. Yet he had come back into your room half an hour later, eyes suspiciously puffy and pink, and his nose a little stuffy, but nonetheless, he grabbed your hand and kissed your knuckles, squeezing even tighter than before. Even though you barely knew him, his presence made you feel safe, and you were glad to have him by your side.

Between your numerous mental tests and check-ins, the conversation between the two of you was surprisingly easy. He was patient with you, and kind. Apparently, you’d first met him in America at a hero convention about five years ago, and you started dating after a year and a half of being friends. Your memory had been completely wiped of the past five years, leaving your Japanese friends, coworkers, and dedicated boyfriend all in the dark. According to Shouto, you had befriended many of the top heroes in Japan, seeing as they were also your colleagues. It turned out that the numerous flower arrangements scattered about your room were from these heroes, as well as fans… though a good amount were from the heterochromatic man himself.

Shouto took care of you during your days at the hospital. He talked to the doctor after your check-ins, pulling them aside and conversing in hushed voices in the hallway just outside your door. He called your family for you and flew them out, only adding to the chaos in your hospital room. He told all of your Japanese friends and acquaintances to stay away for now, knowing that meeting them would probably just overwhelm and guilt you. And each day he would bring you a treat that you would inevitably love, proving to you that he really did know you, and that he knew your preferences and even your favorite boba order. He probably would have stayed by your bedside even through each night, but you insisted he go home and sleep in a proper bed. You already felt bad enough that he was taking a hiatus from hero work until you recovered… you didn’t need to add his future back issues to your already guilty conscience.

You found yourself enjoying your time with him. You knew who he was— you had certainly heard of him during your previous hero work that you actually remembered. You kept it to yourself that you had harbored an embarrassingly large crush on him, though. You figured he probably knew that, seeing as he was your boyfriend of three and a half years… no need to bring it up! But now that your memory had reverted back to your mental state five years ago… you inevitably had feelings for the pro hero, and you weren’t sure if he either couldn’t tell how he affected you, or if he was just being polite. Whatever the case, there was still a spark between the two of you. Even though all the progress of your relationship had been erased on your side, each day your feelings only grew for the selfless, charming, and witty half-and-half man. So much so, that you would now reach out for his hand when he would enter your room each morning, and he would smile at you and slip his fingers between yours, no matter how much it hurt to restrain himself from showing you more affection.

After about a week, you were cleared to go home. Your nurse, who you had come to know as Akari, told you that the doctor had originally wanted to keep you for longer… but that Shouto was such a doting beau that they had given you the express go-ahead, knowing you would be in the highest of care.

Your memory was still not restored, though you had started to remember odd things here and there. Like how to use your phone— it was the newest model and far from the technology you were familiar with five years ago, but you opened the device and navigated it expertly on your first go. The doctor said that that was a good sign, though it could just be muscle memory... but Shouto still gave you a small smile of encouragement. Next was when you had asked Shouto to bring you your favorite moisturizer, a Japanese brand, and you just mentioned it so casually in conversation that you would have blown right over it had Shouto not pointed it out to you. You were recalling little, mundane things here and there, but never anything big— no people, no places. No distinct memories.

Akari assured you many times that as long as you kept working at it, your memories would return. She always said it when you were frustrated— she could tell your moods and she could see how hard you were trying. But she also said it when you were doing fine, and that was when you knew she was saying it more to Shouto than anything. You were glad to have her there, because even though Shouto was there for you physically, he kept most of his emotions sealed off from you… and it was hard for you to read him. Akari was an excellent nurse, and you felt blessed to have been taken care of by her. But a tiny, minuscule part of you was jealous that she could tell how he was feeling, while you were left in the dark.

⋆⋅✧⋅⋆⋅✧⋅⋆⋅✧⋅⋆

You sighed as the car door clicked shut, feeling apprehensive. The vehicle that Shouto had driven to the hospital today is sleek, shiny, and foreign. You had no clue what model it was, but you knew it must have been expensive— the interior was framed with a polished wood that complimented the peanut-butter color of the leather seats and steering wheel. Shouto slipped into the drivers’ side next to you, offering you a small smile as he clicked his seatbelt into place.

“Are you nervous?” he asked, pausing before he turned the ignition. The car purred to life, a welcome screen popping up in the middle of the console.

You thought it over for a moment before answering, watching as he slid the parking ticket out from under the overhead visor. “A little… I think excited is a better word for it, though.”

Shouto’s smile broadened just a tad, his hand reaching over the center console and squeezing yours briefly. “Me too,” he murmured, eyes locked with yours for just a moment too long before his arm propped back against the corner of your seat, and he reversed out of the parking spot. You couldn’t help but admire his chiseled jawline as he did so, eyes flitting away quickly when he caught your lingering gaze.

The drive from the hospital to your home wasn’t long, and you were thankful that was the case— you’d have definitely felt even guiltier if he’d been driving for a long time all these days to come and see you. The city distracted you along the way, bustling and bright as ever, and your eyes were wide with wonder as you took in the colorful displays littering the streets and storefronts. Everything— everyone just seemed so alive; it was impossible to keep the smile from your face.

At one red light in particular, you saw a cat cafe, zoning in on a particularly pudgy cat snoozing at the top of the cat tree in the window. You giggled and pointed it out to Shouto, glancing over at him to see if he was looking, and the softest smile was on his lips as his eyes gazed deeply into yours. You held his stare for a moment and then looked away again, flustered and your cheeks feeling warm as you cleared your throat.

It was then that you noticed his hand lying atop the center of the console, tempting you to reach out and lace your fingers with his, like you had done so many times at the hospital. But it felt different without the safety of the white walls and medical equipment you had grown to know, somehow scarier— like he might reject you for whatever reason. You chose to keep your hands to yourself for now.

“It seems like you’re curious about the city,” he said as silence settled between the pair of you, the only noise in the cabin of the vehicle being the low melody from the radio.

You shrugged and hummed in agreement, eyes now glued to the other side of the window as countless people and businesses whizz by. “I like to know the city I’m protecting,” you answered, leaning back against the headrest. “It makes me feel more connected to the people that live here… the people we’re helping when we do our jobs. Y’know?”

Shouto nodded, humming his own agreement. “Yeah… I know what you mean,” he replied. After a short pause, he turned to you, waiting for another red light to turn green. “Maybe we can come out in disguise sometime… if that would interest you. I can show you around, we can have a little adventure.”

You visibly perked up at his suggestion, your grin making his heart flutter suddenly in his chest. “Yes! I would love that!” you beamed at him and he smiled back at you, the faintest hint of a blush dusting his cheeks.

You bit your lip as he turned back toward the road, the car shifting forward as he pressed the gas at the green signal. He was trying… so you had to, too.

“But only if we go together, okay?” You reached over and took his hand before you could chicken out. His fingers fit perfectly in between yours, and your cheeks felt hot again as you gazed intently at your intertwined hands.

Shouto let out a little breath of surprise at your action, but his fingers curled tightly around yours in under a second. “Of course… love.”

⋆⋅✧⋅⋆⋅✧⋅⋆⋅✧⋅⋆

Shouto had sent your family home, despite their protests. The doctor’s orders were for you to resume life as you normally would— apparently, that would be the quickest way for you to regain your memories. The verdict was much to your parents’ dismay, but they understood that it was the fastest means for you to return to, well, you. So they left Shouto to take care of you, and he insisted that once your memories came back, he would fly them back out to see you again, or the two of you would come to them.

Though technically he was a stranger to you, he was the closest thing to home in the strange storm of your memory loss. He had been there for you every step of the way, every day. He tended to your every need, and he even anticipated your needs before you were aware of them. That didn’t change once you arrived at your shared apartment.

If you could even call it that.

“Holy shit,” you mumbled when Shouto unlocked the door for you, gesturing for you to enter first. Your jaw was on the herringbone-patterned, hardwood floor as your eyes wandered around the entryway, taking in every design detail you came across. You barely managed to take off your shoes before you were peeking your head into the bathroom next to the entry hallway, inspecting the clean and gorgeously-furnished half-bath.

Shouto chuckled and closed the door behind him, making sure to turn the lock as he set his keys into a porcelain bowl beside the door. “Go explore, I think you’ll like what you see,” he said amusedly, a half-smirk on his pink lips as he eyed you. Your starstruck expression only grew as you padded into the open space of the living room.

A long, cushy sofa and chaise stood before the huge flat-screen that was nestled into an elegant built-in, shelves filled with books you knew and loved and ones you didn’t recognize, too. Game consoles lined the shelf below the plasma screen, and your toes curled into the fuzzy rug underfoot as you gaped at the room. Everything— even the curtains and the coasters on the coffee table— was exactly in your taste. You felt like you were in wonderland. Had you fallen down a rabbit hole and this was the magical, heavenly place you had landed in? Clearly this had to be a dream, right? You woke up as Todoroki Shouto’s long-time girlfriend, and apparently you lived here, with him?

Goddamn.

The kitchen, laundry room, main bath, office, bedroom, and master bath all fit your taste exactly the same. Only the second office and spare bedroom seemed a little out of place— they were more of a traditional Japanese design, but even though it was different, you did not mind. Even the runner on the staircase— who had a staircase in their apartment, by the way?!— was in a pleasing color and pattern. There was even a decently sized home gym, with various equipment and machines and a mirror running the length of the entire wall. By the end of your expedition, you were simply at a loss for words. You found Shouto sitting on one of the stools at the marble island that separated the kitchen and the living room, busy combing through some manila files.

“Umm,” you started, catching his attention.

He looked up at you, propping his chin onto his hand as his elbow rested on the counter. One brow quirked up, he grinned slyly at your outright astonishment. “Well?” he prompted, sitting up and rolling his neck, then stretching his broad shoulders. “What do you think?”

You try not to linger on the way the muscles rippled underneath his tight, crisp shirt, playing off your silence as shock. “It’s uh… perfect? I live here? I actually live here, right? You’re not pulling my leg?”

Shouto chuckled and shook his head. “I would never, love. Well, I have before, but no— I’m not right now. You live here. We live here. It’s all ours.”

You laughed giddily, unable to contain your excitement. Shouto smiled fondly at you, your grin infectious as your eyes wandered around the kitchen once more.

“Snack pantry is behind that door,” he nodded his head to the side and your eyes grew even starrier. He couldn’t help the laugh that trickled out of him at your instant footsteps— you were still you, after all. He knew all the ways to your heart very well, and one of them was most definitely through food.

“Woah.” Your mouth hung open once again at the rows of snacks and foods that greeted your gaze when you opened the door, the light flicking on automatically. Your eyes danced over the labels, recognizing many of your favorite flavors throughout the variety. “We could survive a whole year off of this stuff, Shouto.”

You stiffened when an arm wrapped around your middle, his front pressing up against your back as his chin fell onto your shoulder. That same comforting scent encircled you, but this time it was mixed with a subtle, woodsy aroma that made your mouth water.

Shouto breathed softly into your hair, the tip of his nose brushing the side of your neck. “I stocked up for your return, love.” He took another leisurely deep breath before he pulled back, his arm falling from your body and leaving you surprisingly cold without his touch. “Wanted you to have everything you could possibly desire.”

Your eyes inspected the pattern on the hardwood floor as he stepped away from you, your arm crossing over your front to grab onto your bicep nervously. Letting out a small laugh, you replied, “Yeah, I think you covered all the bases…”

He only hummed as he returned to his seat, sliding on a pair of thin metal glasses you hadn’t seen him take off before. You couldn’t help but think he looked incredibly handsome like this— a rare, domestic sight for only your eyes to enjoy. “Sorry I can’t entertain you at the moment,” he said, that analytical gaze locking onto you once more. “My agency asked me to look over these cases and I just have to finish them up— I’m technically on leave, but I still want to help out when I can. I only need another half hour or so. Feel free to help yourself to anything you like. This is your home, after all.”

You smiled and nodded, rolling back and forth on the balls of your feet. “Alright, I’ll try not to bother you.” Shouto frowned at your wording, but you carried on anyway. “I think I’ll poke around our room and see if I can find something that triggers a memory.” Your acknowledgement of your shared bedroom seemed to put him at ease, and with that, you grabbed a strawberry-flavored snack from the pantry before making your way past him, roaming over to the bedroom.

“You can go through my things if you want, too!” He called from behind you, having already made your way to the stairs. Choosing not to reply to his invitation, you hopped up the steps and quietly closed the door to your bedroom, hands landing on your hips. Inspecting the room from left to right, you decided to go through the toiletries in the master bath before anything else.

Before you could move even a foot in the direction of the en-suite, a furry creature darted out from underneath the bed skirt and dashed toward you. You gasped in delight at the gorgeous visage of the long-haired cat— she had bright blue eyes and fine white fur, her coat streaked with gray here and there. The cat meowed cutely and curled around your ankle, rubbing her head against your leg affectionately.

You immediately crouched down and lowered yourself to her level, fingers eagerly diving into her soft fur and offering a good scratch behind the ears. “Hi gorgeous,” you cooed, the animal mewling back at you in response. Your fingers found her collar and you flipped over the tag, reading her name with a smile. “Nice to meet you, Yuki.” 

Heart softened at the thought of Shouto owning such a pretty creature, you gave her a good long rub before you decided to move on to your quest at hand. The creature followed closely behind, twisting in between your legs as you entered the en-suite.

The bathroom was large and luxurious, just what you would expect from a pro-hero of Shouto’s standing. It occurred to you that you too, were a hero of such regard, which must explain why you could afford all the lavish things you came across while combing through the closets and cabinetry.

You went through countless skincare products, face masks, makeup items, and bathing goods on what you presumed was your side of the double sink before you peeked into Shouto’s drawers. You fingered through his hygienic products, mumbling to yourself in surprise when you came across skincare items whose existence most men would not even be aware of. You shrugged and figured that you just must be an excellent girlfriend and teacher, assuming he used them correctly.

Eventually you found his shaving items, eyes scanning the labels until you find his aftershave. Shrugging, you took the cap off, giving a tentative sniff before you realized that must be what you smelled on him earlier, when he’d pressed up against you from behind and nuzzled into your neck. You bit your lip as you recalled how his arm felt around your waist, his nose on your throat. It had felt so intimate, and oddly… natural.

It was the most contact you’d had with him so far. While you were at the hospital, he would hold your hand. Besides that first moment when you had just woken up— when he hugged and kissed you, and the fireworks that had gone off had been then overshadowed by the horrific realization that your memory had been wiped— the half-hug just twenty minutes ago was the only time he had initiated further physical contact with you.

You frowned. It wasn’t like you’d been super affectionate toward him, either. Sure, you had reached out for his hand at the hospital, and you took it again during the car ride home… but now that it was just the two of you, alone in your home… it felt different. Maybe that was why Shouto had asked if you felt nervous when you were in the car, following your discharge from the hospital only an hour ago. Had he seen it coming— this potential pitfall in the reconstruction of your relationship? You wondered how he felt about all of this, but you were too shy to ask him so directly. Not when you barely knew him.

“Missed me so much you’re sniffing my cologne?”

You froze and glanced up at the mirror, Shouto’s reflection smirking at you from his leaned position against the doorway. Your cheeks immediately went warm and fuzzy again as you capped the glass bottle, carefully placing it back into its drawer before looking over your shoulder to him. A glance at the clock on the wall revealed it had been forty minutes; you must have gotten swept up in examining your beauty products.

He didn't have his glasses on anymore, and he had changed into a solid-colored t-shirt, the crisp button-down he’d donned earlier nowhere to be seen. Damn it… you had missed your chance to ogle at him with his shirt off. At your silence, his smirk melted into a small smile, stepping forward and joining your sitting form on the heated-tile floor. “Don’t worry, I’ve done the same to your perfume before as well,” he murmured as he reached toward the drawer on your far side, his arm brushing against your back as he searched for the glass vial. “You can try it, too. It’s the most recent addition to your collection, and I personally am very partial to its scent.”

The contact made you swallow, your gaze flicking over to his. He was looking at the various perfume bottles in the drawer, though, giving you the chance to inspect his face as his hair fell forward, soft locks of red and white splaying across his forehead. He was so breathtaking up close like this… your gaze dropped to his lips. God, you wanted to kiss him. You wanted to feel those lips on yours again, to be in his arms and to be held as tenderly as you were that first day you awoke.

“Oh right,” he chuckled, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck awkwardly. “I brought it into the spare room the other day… Must’ve forgot to put it back.” He leaned back, ending the accidental physical contact with you.

You looked at him quizzically. “The spare room? Can I ask why?”

Shouto blushed and your heart thudded in your chest. Oh crap, he was so cute with his cheeks tinged pink. “Yeah… I’ve been sleeping in there since the accident. It just feels…,” he paused as he searched for the right word, eyes avoiding yours, “wrong… to be in our bed without you.”

Your own cheeks warmed at that, his confession pulling at your heartstrings. “So the perfume..?”

His cheeks darkened a few shades, the hand on his neck rubbing harder at his skin. “Ah, that’s… honestly kind of… embarrassing to explain.”

You reached out so your hand covered his, and Shouto sighed as he allowed your fingers to slide in between his. “Can I guess? Will you tell me if I’m right?” He nodded at that, deciding it was better if he didn't have to say it. “You spray my perfume onto a pillow at night and snuggle up with it?”

Shouto’s eyes widened at your immediate response, swallowing before he let out a stiff laugh and a nod. “Yeah, that’s exactly right… kind of lame, isn’t it?”

Shaking your head, you smiled gently at him. “No, I think it’s sweet. It’s just what I would do if you were away, too.”

There’s a shocked silence that filled the bathroom then, Shouto’s wide eyes fixed on you for a long, intense moment. Eventually you broke eye contact, looking to the floor with an awkward smile.

“And you don’t have to do that tonight…” you offered quietly. “If you want, I mean… you can sleep in here.”

“Is that where you’ll be sleeping?”

You looked back at him, surprised by his instant reply. “Y-Yeah, I think so…”

“Alright,” he conceded, his blank face melting into a warm smile. “Then that’s where I’ll sleep, too.”

You returned the gesture, pleased to have made him happy. “Will you be spraying me with perfume before we tuck in?” you joked, trying to lighten the mood.

“No,” Shouto answered seriously, the smile dropping from his face, “your natural scent is a thousand times better than any perfume, love. I’ve missed it lingering on our sheets.”

Cheeks warmed for what seemed like the thousandth time today, you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and smiled, unsure of what to say. “Aha okay… well, I think you smell pretty good, too.”

⋆⋅✧⋅⋆⋅✧⋅⋆⋅✧⋅⋆

Shouto originally wanted to order in from your favorite restaurant for dinner, but you managed to sweet talk him into allowing you to cook instead. After about a week of feeling completely worthless, it was nice to have something you could finally, actually do.

The refrigerator was just as stocked as the pantry, so after analyzing the plethora of ingredients at your disposal, you decided on a meal and set off, gathering all the things you’d need in an excited hurry. Just as you were about to start washing vegetables, Shouto slipped an apron over your head, steady hands drawing the ties together at the bottom of your spine. The garment fit you perfectly, intricate design in your favorite color. You thanked him as you glanced over your shoulder, grinning up at him.

There was a somewhat somber look in his eyes, a halfhearted smile just barely curving his lips before he nodded and moved away, retreating back to the other side of the counter where he’s staked out to watch you work. He’d offered to help— numerous times, actually— but you told him to just sit back and relax. You wanted to do something for the tired man, even if it was as small as putting together a meal.

It didn't take long for you to get into a rhythm. Chopping the vegetables and preparing the other ingredients came naturally to you, and you found yourself enjoying the process. It was something familiar, which was very much welcome.

“Do we cook a lot?” you inquired, raising your voice a bit so Shouto could hear you over the sizzling pan in front of you.

He was leaning on the countertop again— he must’ve known he looked delicious like that or something— and he glanced over at you from the open book he was reading. “Mm, when we have time. It’s not that we don’t enjoy it, but usually we’re both very busy. It’s normal for us to leave early, and return home late.”

You nodded in understanding, grinding fresh peppercorns above the skillet and giving the contents a stir.

“I like everything you cook for me, though.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, stealing a look over at him. While your cooking had improved since your teenage years, it wasn’t like you were a chef by any means. “Everything? You’re just trying to be sweet on me.”

The corner of his mouth curled up. “Maybe… is it working?”

The sound of the food crackling from a drizzle of oil filled the kitchen for a beat, and you stared at the wilting greens before you, unable to bring yourself to look at him. “Yeah, I think it’s working…”

There was another pause in conversation, this one less stifling than before. This time, Shouto broke the ice. “Even though we’re busy people, we always have a date every Friday… It’s the highlight of my week.” His voice sounded gloomier than just a moment ago, but when you chanced a look over at him, he was smiling slightly, staring at a cabinet and seemingly off in his own memories.

You wondered which memory he was going over particularly, but didn’t want to intrude his recollection, so you focused on stirring the pan instead. Tapping your phone on the counter next to you just to make sure, your eyes flitted over today’s date. 

Thursday. 

“Tomorrow’s a Friday,” you mentioned, trying to be casual, despite your heartbeat ringing in your ears. It was stupid for you to get anxious that he’d reject you— he was your boyfriend after all. But to you, this was all  uncharted territory; foreign waters.

“Tomorrow is a Friday, yeah,” he confirmed, looking down at his book again. “It’ll be a week since you woke up.”

The realization that you’d woken up exactly one week ago—the day that caused the man so much joy and then so much pain— that that day had been on a Friday, your sacred day that was devoted to being spent with each other… it made your heart throb uncomfortably in your chest. You nibbled on the inside of your cheek, shutting off the burner and transferring the food into a serving dish. Bringing it over to the counter and setting it in front of him, you untied the apron and folded it neatly, placing that on the counter too.

“Would you… want to go out with me tomorrow, then?” you proposed smally, opening the drawers before you in search of eating utensils. You frowned when all you were met with was measuring cups and spatulas. “For our Friday date ritual, I mean.”

Shouto stood and crossed the island, opening the drawer behind you and revealing all the silverware and chopsticks. You moved to grab two pairs of chopsticks and he took your wrist gently, large thumb stroking across your skin. His other hand came to brush against the small of your back, but he chose not to grab onto you. “I would love that.”

You shared a smile and a meaningful look.

“Then it’s a date.”

⋆⋅✧⋅⋆⋅✧⋅⋆⋅✧⋅⋆

After the dishes were all washed, you agreed to watch a movie. You had initially wanted to pour over your things again, to see if anything could help your memories come back. But Shouto had suggested the two of you relax on the couch instead, explaining that  he was not surprised that you were overworking yourself, but that it was his job to make sure you took care of yourself. He further threatened that if you wouldn’t take care of yourself, then he would have to “take care of you himself”, and that left you flustered more than anything. So you dropped whatever excuse you had prepared to argue back at him and followed him to the living room.

Walking in, you blinked in awe at the spread that Shouto had set up. Numerous candies and snacks are laid out for your convenience across the coffee table. The lights were dimmed and curtains drawn, even a few candles flickering in the shadows and scenting the room with a cool, refreshing aroma. There was a pile of blankets stacked in the center of the sofa, all the decorative pillows pushed into the corners to leave one large space for the two of you to share. It was a little… dare you say it… romantic. You looked over your shoulder at him, shooting him a suspicious glance. He had led you to believe he was “taking care of you”, but it seemed he had ulterior motives, too. Not that you were complaining.

Seating yourself next to the blanket tower, you peeled one off the top before unfolding it, letting the soft fleece tickle your ankles and lay across your lap. Shouto crossed in front of the TV, grabbing two remotes from the basket and coming to sit next to you. There was a respectful amount of space between your legs, and you couldn’t help but frown at the gap. You thought that he would sit right next to you…

It took a little while for you to settle on a movie, all the films from the past five years unknown and novel to you… even if Shouto informed you you had already seen them. He went along with your selection without resistance, opting to grab one of the biscuit snacks on the table before you.

As the movie began, you leaned back against the soft cushions of the couch, not really focusing on the actors on the screen. Your eyes were trained on the television, but your mind was elsewhere, unable to distract yourself with the story. You also noticed that Shouto was sitting stiff as a board next to you, focused on nibbling at his snack. He didn’t attempt any moves at you throughout the first thirty minutes, even after he’d finished with his confection. Slowly you allowed yourself to relax, succumbing to the film and settling into the pillowy sofa.

Shouto detected your newfound relaxation, a gentle smile tugging at his lips as he watched your eyes fix on the main character and her love interest. “I’m going to make some tea. Would you like a cup, love?”

“I’m okay, thanks…” you replied softly, not really hearing him as the love interest was in the middle of their heartfelt confession.

He took a moment alone in the kitchen to calm himself. Even though you had been very receptive to him, he couldn’t help but feel hesitant whenever he touched you. He wanted you to want him; for you to want him to touch you. But he didn’t want to force anything with you, in fear that he’d scare you off or make a bad impression. He didn’t want to be pushy. Even before the accident, his heart still pounded whenever you would smile at him. When you would grab his hand, bring him something because it reminded you of him… when you would moan into his ear at ungodly hours in the night… Now it felt like his heart was in his throat every time you spoke to him, like if he said one word wrong, you’d fly away from him and never look back. It was terrifying.

Shouto shook his head. Sighing to himself, he filled his mug with water and held the ceramic in his hands, steam rising off the surface of the liquid almost instantly as he activated his quirk. He allowed the tea leaves to steep for a moment before he fished them out, steeling his nerves and returning to his spot on the couch. He couldn’t be sure, but it looked like you’d scooted over just the tiniest bit, shortening the distance between you two as he took his seat.

Your eyes flicked over to him and caught his gaze on you, inspecting the mug in his hands before giving a curious sniff. “Chamomile?”

He nodded and offered the cup to you, which you took in both hands. “Technically, it’s called Sleepytime Mix. But yes, it has chamomile. Have some, if you want.”

“Ah,” you gave a long inhale and smiled drowsily at the familiar scent. “I don’t wanna drink all your tea. And besides, it’s a little hot for me.”

“Oh,” Shouto said, taking the cup back into his hands. He focused for a second, and then the liquid no longer emitted steam, now a pleasant, warm temperature. “Try it now. Help yourself, please.” He handed the mug back to you, the light from the television flickering across his handsome face.

You blinked at him cutely, taking the mug in your hands again. Your fingers brushed against his in the transfer, and he cleared his throat slightly, skin warmed from your touch. “Wow!” you chimed after a sip, going back for another few gulps before you handed it back to him. “It’s really good. Perfect temp, Sho, thank you.”

Shouto felt his heart skip a beat in his chest, his eyes widening at the name he hadn’t heard in weeks. It sounded so good rolling off your tongue, so right. At his flustered expression, you laughed awkwardly, fingers delving into the blanket and looking away meekly.

“Sorry… I thought that that was probably what you’re used to me calling you, but I can use something else if you like.”

“No,” he said instantly, his hand automatically reaching for yours. He pried it out of the fleecy material, folding his fingers around yours. “I like it. Please call me that, I… I’ve missed hearing it.”

“Alright,” you mumbled, fingers squeezing his for a moment. You kept his gaze for a long pause, and then you duck down, scooching flush against his side and laying your head onto his broad shoulder. It caught him off guard, but after a moment of buffering, he moved, his arm tentatively wrapping around your shoulders and pulling you against his side. The action made your cheeks perhaps as hot as the tea in his mug, but you only settled deeper into his embrace, happy to be in his arms. You fixed the blanket so it covered his long legs, too, settling over the both of you snuggly.

You two stayed like that for the rest of the movie, another forty five minutes or so. Your hand gradually moved to rest on his stomach, his long fingers stroking your spine through your shirt. It was new to you, but it was comfortable— your body recognized his touch and welcomed it, even— years of unknowingly conditioning yourself to receive his affection allowing you to accept his embrace. By the end of the film, you were dozing off, warm and relaxed now more than ever, curled up into Shouto’s side.

Shouto, however, was wide awake, his pulse rushing in his ears at your proximity. It had been a very long month without you, and now here you were, cuddled up with him just like how you used to be every night. He knew you were somewhere in between consciousness and sleep, so he let the entire movie credits roll by before he decided to move you. Still holding his mug, which had been empty for the past half hour— but he didn’t want to risk moving and causing you to pull away— he set it on the side table, carefully maneuvering his wide frame so as to not disturb you.

You whined in protest but did not stir when he curled his arms around you, picking your form up and off the couch. After making sure all the candles were blown out and the lights were turned off, he quietly carried you to your shared room, not bothering to turn on the lights. It was then that he hesitated to make the next move— you were still in your clothes from the day, and he wasn’t sure if you would want him to see your bare body if he took the liberty to rid you of them.

His tongue wandered over the bottom of his teeth as he gazed at you, strewn across the soft blankets that covered your bed. The few beams of moonlight that slithered through the bottom of the blinds fell perfectly onto your face, your lashes casting long shadows onto the duvet and giving you an ethereal glow. He could imagine how your naked skin looked underneath that cute little sweater you donned, your bra strap poking out as if to tease him even more. His eyes slammed shut as he sucked in a sharp breath between his teeth, recognizing the color, and the image of you clad in the matching panties that completed the set suddenly sprung forth in his mind.

Acquainted was an understatement as to how well he knew your body, but the problem was not as simple as physicality— the problem was mental, and it could not be vanquished by anything except time, it seemed. The beautiful brain he loved so dearly was now wiped, void of all the memories the two of you had made and cherished together. Shouto clutched his stomach as he took a seat on the ottoman at the foot of the bed, feeling sick from the forceful whirlwind of emotion that came along with the thoughts that crept up on him in the night. The knowledge that you did not remember him, not even one measly memory of him, upset him more than anything.

He had not realized how much his world had shifted now that he had you. Of course, he loved you and he made great effort to ensure that you knew the extent of his devotion to you. But it wasn’t until you had woken up like this, confused and distraught, mind reverted to just months before he had even met you, that he had come to terms with just how much you meant to him. He knew that he loved you before. But now he knew the pain of being unable to hold you, and be with you— really, even talk to you like he had grown so accustomed to.

It was eating him alive, and tearing him apart.

When you had awoken after such an excruciating, lonely month, he had been overjoyed. Finally, he could be with you again— he could touch you and kiss you, hear your sweet voice, hold your body close to his as you fell asleep, and wake up with you still in his arms, groggy and adorable… except, he couldn’t. Because while you knew who he was… you didn’t, really. You didn’t know him at all. And what hurt the most was that he could see that you were trying… but at the end of the day, he was only a stranger to you. He was not your boyfriend, not anything more, other than a hero that you idolized and had a silly crush on.

At the very least, he found comfort in the knowledge that you found him attractive. Of course, you had revealed to him, albeit once you were deep into your relationship, that you had fantasized about him and fostered a schoolgirlish crush on him when you hadn’t yet been introduced. He remembered laughing at your embarrassed confession, pinching your cheeks and then kissing you through his smile… then, taking you from behind as you bent over the bathroom counter, pressing you against the mirror as he donned his hero suit, savoring your pleading moans for him to fuck you deeper, harder.

His cock twitched in his slacks, blood beginning to travel south as his interest grew for the first time in weeks. He groaned and he grit his teeth, frustrated at himself for even daring to feel desire while you laid asleep next to him, plagued by your wiped memory but sitting there looking like that. Gorgeous and untouchable.

As if his heated gaze had summoned you from your slumber, your eyes opened and you blinked at him, squinting at his silhouette in the dark of the room. Shouto recoiled even though he hadn’t been caught doing anything too suspicious; he was a good distance away from you, but still, you had caught him staring at you like a creep in the shadows.

“Sho?” you mumbled drowsily, a hand coming up to rub at your eyes. You propped your body up on your elbows, your shift stretching flush over your chest.

Shouto nearly moaned at the sight combined with the sound of your sleepy voice uttering his name. It didn't help the situation that was stirring in his pants one bit, only adding water to an oil fire. “Hey,” he replied, clearing his throat. “You fell asleep, so I brought you to bed.. Did you want to clean up before we go to sleep?”

You sighed, rolling over as you roused yourself from sleep. “Not really…,” you chuckled, and Shouto felt his chest tighten at the premise of having to get into bed with you with his problem at hand. “But I’ll be a responsible adult,” you finished, rolling out of bed and padding over to the bathroom.

He glanced over at you in the mirror as you brushed your teeth, the cat curling around his ankle and taking his attention away from you. Giving the animal a scratch underneath her chin, he tried to focus on calming himself, closing his eyes and controlling his breathing. Even though this wasn’t at all like how it had been before, it was still better than being alone. Your presence, the sound of you tidying yourself up in the nearby vicinity, took the month-long weight of loneliness off of his chest. It still stung, it still hurt— but at the very least, you were here. You were alive, and you were here with him.

It was you calling out for him that interrupted his train of thought, and when he looked toward your voice, he found you peeking around the doorframe, your hair pushed back and your face glistening with moisture from your nightly routine. “Aren’t you going to wash up, too? There’s two sinks in here, y’know,” you stated matter-of-factly, as if he didn’t know the layout of his own home.

But Shouto only smiled at you and nodded, leaving the cat and accepting your invitation for him to join you in your bedtime ritual. The situation in his pants had since relaxed, thankfully, so he didn’t have to worry as he took his place adjacent to you at the sink counter. Squeezing toothpaste onto the bristles of his toothbrush, and watching you put on your moisturizer in his peripheral, it felt almost as if nothing had changed. For the first time in a long time, he let himself forget about the horrible curveball that life had thrown at him, instead choosing to stare at you as you picked up the cat at your feet, and placed a sweet kiss on the top of its head as you cradled it in your arms.

You padded out of the bathroom first, opting to close the door behind you. After Shouto had finished his routine, he slinked out into the bedroom quietly, surprise flickering in his gaze at the pyjamas you were now dressed in— a pair of soft sleep shorts and an old t-shirt you had stolen from him years ago. He tried not to stare as you crawled into the sheets, the cat taking her perch at the foot of the bed.

The clearing of his throat caught your attention, and he licked his lip as your eyes settled on his. “Is it okay if I sleep without a shirt?” he asked, having to keep himself from smirking as your eyes widened and a flustered expression blossomed on your face. Cute.

“Y-Yeah,” you stuttered after a second of recalibrating, your eyes still trained on his. “The doctors said we should just live out our normal routine, so… whatever we normally do, we should do.” Sliding deeper underneath the comforter, you pretended to look busy as you fiddled with your phone.

Shouto bit his lip and wondered if telling you that your nightly routine of getting naked and passionate between the sheets would do you any good, but he decided against it, not willing to push his luck. Instead, he tore his shirt over his head and pulled down his pants, turning toward the wall so you wouldn’t have to look him in the eye. He could still feel your gaze on his flesh— he always could, for his skin prickled and the hairs on his body stood up as your eyes roved over every inch of him in appreciation. He didn’t need to see you to know that you were staring.

After he stepped into a long pair of sleep pants, he turned and pretended not to notice your obvious shuffling in a foiled attempt to not be caught looking at him. Carefully he slipped into the sheets on his side of the bed, ensuring not to wander too close to you in order to keep a respectful distance between your bodies… even though he wanted nothing more than to launch himself at you, and wrap his body around yours until neither of you could tell where one of you stopped, and the other started.

There was a long, stuffy silence as the two of you laid there, both of you unsure as to the level of affection you should be displaying at the moment. Shouto was doubtful that you’d want him to hold you like he so desperately desired, and you were hesitant to initiate anything with him laying frozen and a good distance away from you.

“Is this… how we normally sleep?” you wondered aloud, and though you were surprised that the words actually fell from your lips, you were grateful to have broken the rising tension.

Shouto left out a breath he had been holding at that, turning so that he was facing you on his side. “No,” he answered truthfully, his fingers sliding over the cool cotton that separated your bodies, wandering toward you at a snail's pace. “Usually… we like to,” he cleared his throat, trying to get rid of the lump that was situated there, “snuggle.”

In the quiet of the room, he could hear your lips part, a soft breath falling from between them as you processed his response. Your heart was beating faster now, body crying out for his touch, his embrace. “Can we?” you asked so softly that you hadn’t thought he’d heard you, but slowly, surely, he shuffled toward you.

You inhaled as he placed a gentle hand on your waist, pulling your body to slide across the sheets and meet him in the middle of the bed. Lifting your head so he could slip his arm beneath your neck, he brought your face into his neck, arms wrapping tight around your torso. His fingers dug into your side and the hair at the crown of your neck, curling around the tendrils as if he was scared that you would slip out of his grasp at any moment. Pressed up against his bare chest, you could hear the steady, fast thumping of his heart, and the shakiness in each breath he drew in and let out.

It sounded like he was trying not to cry.

Your hand wandered up and under his neck, your elbow angling around the back of his neck so that your fingers could trace the sinews that lined his shoulder blades. Your other arm slung around his back, and although it was just a bit of a reach, you managed to find his silky locks, combing through the ends with your fingers. Daring to push the fragile boundaries that kept you two separate, you threw your leg across his hips, trapping his legs between yours and pressing your body completely flush against his.

Shouto stopped breathing, tears threatening to spill over as he held you so delicately for the first time in what seemed like forever. Similar emotions were flowing through you as well, your body singing at the feeling of being with him, in his embrace. Your heart throbbed at the thought of leaving this man alone for an entire month, with no one to comfort him and calm his worries. No one to hold him and tell him that it was going to be okay, no one to plant kisses across his tear-streaked cheeks and help him forget his pain.

It wasn’t your fault you had been in this accident, that you had forgotten your memories from the past five years. But it wasn’t his, either. The two of you were forced to suffer in different ways, separated by your condition and worlds apart. You wished so desperately that you would just remember already— if not for your sake, then for his. Anything that would make him feel better, anything to ease the ache in his heart.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out quietly, overcome with emotion as you laid in the arms of the man you had once loved. The man you’d been learning to love again. “I’m so sorry I don’t remember you. I want to, I’m trying.” A tear dripped down your face and landed on his chest, sliding down to stain the sheets.

Shouto sucked in a shaky breath at your meager apology, rough fingers running over the back of your neck. “I know you are,” he murmured, and you could feel him swallow thickly as he tried to find the right words. “It’s not your fault, love… You can’t— you can’t blame yourself.” His voice broke at the last syllable, his arms squeezing tighter as he held onto you.

You pressed your face into the junction between his shoulder and his neck, uncaring of your tears that smeared across his skin. “Neither can you,” you sniffled, body clinging to him as best you could. “Please, Shouto, promise me you won’t.”

It was then that he let the tears he had been holding back fall, racing down his cheeks to plop onto the dampening pillow. You held him as he cried, unphased by the sudden outburst of emotion from the man who had shown you so little of himself in the past week.

“I’ll try,” he mumbled into your hair once he had calmed down a bit, lungs still rattling as he tried to suppress his emotions. “For you, I’ll try.”

You leaned back from his chest, his heart seizing up at the tear tracks on your cheeks that were illuminated by the soft moon’s glow. And then, you kissed him. It was simple and sweet, just your lips pressed to his as your thumb swiped across his cheek. But it felt like you were breathing life into him, like he had been starved of oxygen until this very moment.

Both of you gasped when you pulled away, the kiss having lasted as long as you could stand without breaking for breath. Your eyes wandered from his shining ones to his lips, shocked that you had planted such a passionate kiss there just seconds ago. It had worked, though— Shouto was breathing normally and his tears had stopped, dual-colored eyes now staring at you as if you had just given him a purpose to live. You licked your lips, not missing the way his gaze flicked down to watch the action with longing, but he did not act on it.

“We’ll get through this together,” you whispered, hand resting on his sharp jawline. There was not a hint of doubt in your voice, no hesitance nor fear. It was just a fact, simple as that. You let yourself look at his handsome face for a moment longer before you ducked and nuzzled into his chest again, taking your spot as if you had never left.

Shouto exhaled, his fingers trailing down your spine as he closed his eyes, syncing his breathing to yours. The feeling of your body wrapped around his made his bones glow with a missed sense of comfort, his heart fuller than it had been for quite some time. He welcomed sleep to take him, the exhaustion of many long and insomnia-plagued nights from the past month all piling on. Pressing his lips to your forehead as softly as he could, he closed his eyes and murmured one word, wishing with every fiber of his being for you to wake up the next morning and have just one memory of him.

“Together.”

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

.

.

...soooooooo idk how this is only part 1, shit’s 11k already 💀 ahh for those of you who made it through, thank you so much for reading and i hope you enjoyed!! there was no smut in this chapter which is so foreign to me, but i’m hoping to improve my story creation skills as part of my 2021 author resolutions... so, let me know what you think! hopefully part 2 will come to fruition soon, but it would probably come faster if i knew people were waiting for it ;) 

➥ masterlist

𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐩𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟏. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

[rheawritessometimes]

Not Part of the Deal

{ Childe x GN!Reader }

{ Summary } Living with Childe is starting to feel a little too comfortable. Series Masterlist

{ Warnings } Swearing, Physical Intimacy, Alcohol, Intoxication, Undefined Relationship.

{ Notes } This took a long time, I'm having a hard time writing. I can't decide what I want to write but I didn't want to leave this unwritten for too long. Hopefully, I'll be able to wrap this series up nicely soon. Masterlist

{ Word Count } 1,846

The bed was empty when you woke up to the sound of laughter, which was reasonable considering it was Childe’s laughter coming from the kitchen. You sat up, noting that this was the second time your sleep was disturbed by the Harbinger being loud in the kitchen. Groggily, you rolled out of his bed to figure out the source of his amusement.

When you entered the kitchen, bright blue eyes shining with laughter met your gaze. They were so beautiful, framed by long lashes and accompanied by a goofy smile that could probably light up all of Teyvat for weeks. Were those dimples?

“I thought you didn’t want me ‘cooking enough to feed a small army’, why so much food?” Childe asked through his laughter, seeming much more amused by this than he reasonably should be. Not that this stopped you from laughing along with him.

“Well, I didn’t know what you might like to make, so I decided to err on the side of caution,” you replied somewhat bashfully. It was the truth, minus the fact that most of it was fueled by panic.

“I guess that means I should make a lot of dishes for dinner!”

This turned into quite the ordeal, with several different things being prepared simultaneously, Childe needed to split his focus and time things correctly. You couldn’t even help with much of the preparation, too focused on clearing counter space of his used cookware and cleaning dishes so you wouldn’t be left with a mountain of them afterward, it was especially useful that you cleaned dishes he would later need to reuse for a different component of the meal he had planned.

“Childe, this all looks really good but I think this is enough food to feed all of Liyue.”

“I don’t mind sharing.”

Scoffing at his reply, you could only shake your head. You assumed Childe would pass the leftovers off to his subordinates in Liyue so you didn’t mind too much, so long as the food didn’t go to waste and you didn’t have to do the distribution. Not many of the Fatui in Liyue were very fond of you, considering your history of fights with them. Maybe that’s why the guard didn’t like you.

Redirecting your attention to the food laid out on the table, you were impressed by the array of dishes. There was a cold, primarily vegetable soup that had caught your interest when Childe began preparing it. There was also some sort of potato salad with plenty of mayo, something similar to dumplings with meat filling, and fruit cooked in a syrup. Several other dishes filled the table and you felt bad not sampling at least a little bit of everything, so you kept your portions small.

Throughout dinner, you listened to the Harbinger tell you about the times he made these dishes with his family or sometimes a little bit about the history of a dish. While you didn’t say much, it was pleasant to have his chatter fill the air. He continued to talk about his family back in Snezhnaya and the long days spent fishing even after the both of you had finished eating and were clearing the table.

“I need to start exercising again, I don’t want to get out of shape,” Childe lamented once you had finished with the cleaning. You had both settled on the couch, sitting on opposite ends facing each other.

“Have you forgotten about your broken ribs already?” you ask, a bit of incredulity dripping into your tone.

“No, but it won’t hurt that bad. I can handle it.”

You really couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not with that statement, his tone was serious but he couldn’t be that careless. Surely he understood the strain would impede recovery, perhaps even make things worse.

“No, you can’t. You’d just mess up your recovery trying. Not to mention we have a deal,” you try to reason, wondering briefly if that kind of thing even worked on him. You knew Childe wasn’t one to break his promises but he also cared greatly about his strength.

“I will exercise restfully,” he said decisively, though his playful undertone made it apparent he was joking.

“You’re impossible.”

“And yet you adore me.”

Scoffing at his response, you meet his gaze. He wore a cheeky grin, eagerly awaiting your response in hopes of being able to further tease you. You know if you hesitate for too long he will also tease you about that, so your options were limited.

“You sound awfully confident in that,” you reply coolly. It was not an ideal response, but it was the best you could think of in the moment.

“Because it’s true, you didn’t even deny it,” the Harbinger gloats, seeming very satisfied with himself.

“Maybe,” you reply vaguely, rolling the thought around in your head. What were your feelings for him, exactly? It was clear you weren’t just friends, but it seemed like a lot to say you were in love with him and it didn’t seem to be enough to say you just liked him. You felt confused about him.

For the rest of the night, you thought about the same question, but even by the time you were falling asleep, you couldn’t bring yourself to give a solid answer. It left you feeling restless for the next few days, though things remained the same with Childe. To pass the time you took the dog Harbinger on regular walks through Liyue. Sometimes the two of you would stop at the various vendor’s stalls in the markets and others you would walk closer to the harbor.

Even with your uncertainty about him, Childe was as easy to get along with as ever. He joked and made you laugh, cooked most of your shared meals thankfully not making quite as much food, and explored Liyue with you. Sometimes you visited the restaurants and Zhongli would join the two of you, making a habit of keeping the two of you for hours with his stories before dumping the bill on the Snezhnayan.

Though fewer than normal, you still took up commissions around Liyue, leaving Childe unattended for some time. You couldn’t be certain, but you were pretty sure he still behaved in the time you were gone. It seemed he most often did some work for the Fatui in the time you were gone, you often came back to him reading over a report or writing something he would later handoff to the guard outside his door.

All in all, living with him was becoming fairly comfortable.

“Oh fuck we’ve been eating all this Snezhnayan food and stuff and I forgot to show you our most famous commodity,” Childe exclaimed one night as he was cleaning up in the kitchen after dinner. You looked over from drying a plate to see him pull two small glasses and a bottle of clear liquid from the cupboards. You knew enough to recognize it.

“Fire-Water?”

“Yeah, have you had it before? This is a bottle of the fancy stuff,” he hummed, already pouring some into the glasses, one with a noticeably smaller amount.

“I haven’t, I don’t drink much,” you admitted, taking the glass from him when he offered it to you.

“Oh, perfect,” he said with a grin that made you think it would not be perfect for you. That didn’t stop you from drinking the small amount in your glass after watching him knock back his.

The taste was awful, but the burn down your throat and how warm it made you feel was rather pleasant. Childe had been watching you, eager to gauge your reaction. He would be disappointed by the fact you didn’t cringe at the taste but also pleased you didn’t seem to dislike it.

“It’s not bad,” you said after a moment, which Childe responded to by pouring a more generous amount into your glass. They were small glasses, so it still didn’t amount to very much.

“I think you’re fully prepared for a visit to Snezhnaya now,” he laughed, also pouring more of the Fire-Water into his glass. Being awfully classy not drinking straight from the bottle.

“Is that your way of telling me you want me to visit you when you’re back in Snezhnaya?” you cooed teasingly, emptying your glass before setting it on the counter. It was already starting to feel a little hazy. That did not stop your companion from continuing to drink.

“Maybe. Maybe I would like to take you back with me,” he returned with a cheeky grin, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you into his side, not letting you go once you were there. Not that you particularly minded being held snugly against his side. “What do you say? You might even like the cold.”

Heart fluttering at his words, you wondered if he meant them. Of course, he had said it in response to your teasing, but maybe he did want you around. Did you want to stay with him, by his side when he returns to Snezhnaya? Perhaps even going with him when the Fatui send him to different nations?

“I don’t know, I think you’d need to convince me it’s worth going with you,” you mused, giving him a playful smirk.

“Is being with me not enough for you?” he pouts, setting his glass down before using his grip on your waist to turn you around so your back bumps against the counter. His hands rested against the surface on either side of you caging you in as he gazed down at you with an expression that made your heart stutter.

The Harbinger observed your expression for a few beats before leaning down to press his lips to yours. He was much rougher than he’d been in the past, more eager, but you mimicked his pace and intensity nonetheless. Perhaps it was the alcohol you could still taste on his tongue that caused the change.

When you wrapped your arms around his neck, he lifted you up and seated you on the counter. He pulled away from the kiss to brush his lips against your cheek before moving to your neck. The kisses he left there started out delicate but when his teeth grazed against your skin you couldn’t help but close your eyes and sigh pleasantly.

When his hands hooked under your thighs to lift you up, your eyes flew open and a surprised squeak left you. On instinct your legs wrapped around him to prevent you from falling.

“Childe?” you asked when he began walking with you in his hold. It became apparent that the Harbinger was carrying you in the direction of his bedroom, causing your heart to speed up. It seemed like things were moving too fast.

“Alcohol makes me sleepy sometimes.” Oh.

You were promptly dropped on the bed, still feeling a little shocked. He leaned down to press another kiss to your lips, smiling at your expression. That night was the second time you found yourself falling asleep in Childe’s arms.

[utakoi]

The Answer

Pairing: Yandere!Pro-hero!Shoto Todoroki x Fem!Reader

Summary: Shoto’s constant affection towards you suddenly stops one day and you’re not sure if you’re entirely happy about it. 

Warnings: smut !!18+ ONLY!!, yandere themes, Stockholm syndrome, dubcon, cursing

Inspo Playlist: I Wanna Be Yours - Arctic Monkeys // Control - Doja Cat // begin again - Purity Ring

A/N: super rusty, but hey, gotta start somewhere, hope y’all enjoy :)

You’ve gotta admit that you’re a little impressed with Shoto Todoroki’s seemingly endless amounts of patience. 

No matter how much you kicked, screamed, or bit, your captor never raised his voice or tried to fight back. Your first thought was that he was a masochist, secretly enjoying how you clawed at his skin whenever he was close and called him every name in the book. 

However, you’d catch a flicker of sadness in his eyes whenever you rejected his affectionate advances, but it would go away so quickly that you questioned if you ever even saw it at all. 

Despite your obvious hostility toward him, Shoto was never deterred from trying to smother you with his love. It was awkward oftentimes to the point you wondered if he’s had any sort of experience in the field of romance, but nonetheless, he tried.

The way he’d clumsily pull you into a hug and try to whisper sweet nothings in your ear could almost be called endearing. When he first called you his “sweet little sugar love,” you couldn’t stifle a giggle. Come on, calling you his “sweet little sugar love” in such a deep and monotone voice? He must have used it as a joke to get any type of positive reaction from you. However, considering how he only looked at you with a confused expression when you laughed, you were sure that he meant it seriously. After that, he seemed to call you overly cheesy pet names more and more just to get you to smile again. (They worked more times than you’d like to admit.)

Still, you just couldn’t forget the fact that he ripped you away from your ordinary life and forced you into a relationship with him. So, over and over again, you’d refuse his loving gestures, and over and over again, Shoto would just keep showing you how much he loves you. 

And then he just stopped.

It wasn’t all that sudden, moreso like a gradual decline over time.

Less touches, less words exchanged, less time spent with you… until he just left you alone a majority of the day. His hero duties would already ensure you having some alone time, but he’d usually try to sneak in a good morning kiss before leaving and immediately smother you with cuddles upon returning home. Now, he just goes off without a word and sleeps on the couch rather than sharing the bed with you. 

You were happy about it, grateful even. Sure, Shoto still left you locked in the house with no means of escape, but you felt like you could actually fully relax without dreading that his presence will soon invade your personal bubble. 

You could roam around the house. You could read a book. You could go down to the kitchen to have a snack.

All without Shoto by your side. 

But… it felt strange somehow. You reasoned with yourself that it may just be because you haven’t felt at ease in so long that it felt foreign to truly feel relaxed. You also considered that you had some slight paranoia, making conspiracy theories that Shoto’s finally done with your behavior and is just giving you a short period of peace before taking you to hell for acting so horribly towards him. 

None of those ideas seemed right, though. 

All you knew for sure was that the feeling didn’t sit well with you.

// // // // // //

The uncomfortable feeling is now at an all time high as you stare at Shoto’s sleeping face. Once again, he chooses to sleep on the couch instead of sharing the bed with you. You wonder why. His legs have to be bent quite a bit in order for his body to fit on the couch and his head is propped up so high on the throw pillow that you’re certain he has neck pain every morning. 

How long has it been since he’s avoided you like the plague? A month or two? You stopped keeping count after the first few weeks. 

For a while, you haven’t seen Shoto at all. Slipping by the door in the morning and only coming back at late hours of the night, it’s almost like you’re living with a ghost. The only pieces of evidence he’d leave that proves he was ever home are chopsticks and an empty bowl waiting in the sink to be washed. 

Looking at his sleeping face has somehow become a nightly routine for you. You’re not sure when or how it started. It just… did. You tried to stop yourself when you realized what you were doing, but you found it impossible to sleep without watching him for just a bit. 

Your little routine concerns you, but not as much as you know it should. That’s what really scares you. 

“What- what are you doing?”

You tense a little upon hearing Shoto’s raspy voice. You haven’t heard it in a while, that is, if you don’t count the times you’d hear his voice during interviews while watching television.

“I was... Just checking on you.”

His heterochromatic eyes widen a little, clearly surprised by your response. His usual stoicness returns, however, and he rises off the couch wordlessly to stand in front of you. He reaches a hand out, but he hesitates and eventually retracts it. 

The uncomfortable feeling in you intensifies slightly.

“It’s late. You should go to be-”

“Are you mad at me?”

Both of you are caught off guard at what tumbles out of your lips. It doesn’t take long before more words escape you.

“You- I haven’t seen you in so long. I thought- I thought that you were finally done with me. God, you w-woudn’t even say bye t-to me before you left for work and- fuck, I- I just…”

You’re sure that you’re rapidly spitting out so many words that Shoto can’t even keep up with what you’re saying. Hell, you don’t even know what you’re saying yourself. It isn’t until you feel Shoto’s hands cup your face gently that you stop. One of his thumbs brush against your cheek, smearing something wet on it. You realize that you were crying while you rambled. 

Shoto’s lips open and close, almost like a fish gasping when dragged onto land. Perhaps it’s because he’s still groggy from having woken up, but your gut tells you that he’s actually just choosing his words carefully.  

“Were… Why are you upset?”

Your mind reels at his question. Is that how you’re feeling? Upset? No, that’s not right, not completely.

But if Shoto is right with his assumption, then why? Why are you upset? Well, wouldn’t anyone be upset because they were suddenly kidnapped? But then, that begs another question that you’re not ready to think about, or, rather, a question that you’ve refused to acknowledge:

Why doesn’t the thought of being freed from Shoto make you happy anymore?

“I…” You mumble. Your mind is screaming at you not to answer him, but… you just can’t endure the emotion bubbling up in your chest anymore. Saying it out loud should make you feel better. Giving in would make you feel so much better. 

Finalizing your decision and shushing the nagging voice in your head, you look straight into Shoto’s eyes.

“I miss you, Shoto.”

With that, you lean forward and press your lips against his. When he gasps in shock, you take advantage of it and dart your tongue inside his mouth. Groaning into the kiss, you can feel his hands move from your face to your waist, gripping your body closely to his. 

“You- Did you miss me?” You ask breathlessly once you pull away. Shoto gives you a rare smile and even a soft chuckle. 

“You have no idea how much I longed for you.”

Soon after his response, his lips attach to your neck, sloppily licking and biting at the sensitive skin. Meanwhile, one of his hands wander downwards to cup your sex, rubbing slowly at your clothed opening. You cry out and buck your hips, prompting another chuckle from him.

“Needy for me already, my baby? I can feel your pussy dripping on me, even through these shorts of yours.”

The new nickname he gives you sends shivers down your spine. Since when did he learn how to talk dirty so well?

“I can’t believe I lasted so long not touching you, and now, you’re the one coming to me, admitting you miss me…” 

His hands tug down your shorts, falling and pooling around your feet. 

“And you’re not wearing panties, either? You must have wanted this so bad, baby. I wonder how many times you’ve gone to bed, hoping that I’d join you and fuck you during your sleep.”

Shoto plunges one of his fingers into your hole, pumping it slowly. Simultaneously, his thumb rises a little to place pressure on your clit. You mewl and grip onto his shoulders, digging your nails into them.

“Wh-why didn’t you?” You manage to ask coherently before he adds a second finger inside you, scissoring them slightly. You almost think that Shoto ignores your question, but eventually, he moves away from suckling at your neck and makes eye contact with you.

“Because I knew that once I put distance between us, you’d realize how much you needed me.”

For a split second, the voice in your head appears again.

He manipulated you.

He conditioned you to yearn for his affection. 

He planned everything out.

Yet, as you can feel the lingering sting of Shoto’s lovebites on your neck and his thick fingers slowly bringing you to the edge, you can’t help but not care. All that matters now is that Shoto was right in front of you and he isn’t going to leave you ever again. 

“Shoto… Please, I need more. I need you.” You whimper. He wastes no time in pushing you to lay on the couch and cage your body in his. Once he tugs down the waistband of his pants, you gulp at his size.

His erection’s red tip beads with precum. 

“Ready, my lovely baby?”

You nod, eagerly spreading your legs as much as you can. Slowly, Shoto’s dick enters you inch by inch, stretching you more and more. Your head tips back, overwhelmed at how absolutely full he makes you feel.

“Ngh, you’re so tight, so wet. I love you, baby, I love you so much…” Shoto leans forward fully, your chests pressing against each other. Rocking against you, he whispers endless amounts of praise about how perfectly you take his cock and how wonderful you make him feel. You just moan, far too lost in pleasure to say anything clearly. 

As the both of you grow closer to the edge, his thrusts inside you become less gentle, turning into a frantic rut. 

“Cum together with me, ok, baby? I need you to be a good girl and cum with me. Can you do that for me?”

“Y-yes, I can, Shoto!” 

Soon after, you feel yourself reach your high, your walls clamping down on him as much as they can. Shoto follows suit, managing one more thrust before cumming.

Once you come down, the realization that he had just cum inside you hits. Both of your hands come to rest on your stomach. 

“Is something wrong, my sweet little sugar love?’

You meet Shoto’s eyes, looking down at you with what you can only describe as pure adoration. You simply smile and raise one of your hands away from your belly to run through his dual colored hair. 

“No, nothing at all.”

[nnightskiess]

‧₊° 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐨𝐞 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

‧₊° 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐲/𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

Toni grabbed another handful of pebbles from the beach and played with them in her hands before throwing one out into the ocean every few steps. The sun was on full blast and started to hurt her forehead and thus she was on her way to the little cave that would shield her from the sun — the one she’d found on another stroll. She hadn’t run off this time, Dot had actually told everyone to wait until the sun was less vicious before continuing their work. Toni hadn’t felt like joining the others and apparently neither had Y/N, who had disappeared the moment Dot told them to take a break. 

God knows what Y/N was up to now that she had some free time. What would anyone even do on an abandoned island? No matter how hard Toni had tried, Y/N was a hard one to read. She wasn’t as open as the others and kept to herself most of the time, but never disrespected anyone, or treated anyone badly, for that matter. She helped out whenever needed and seemed particularly interested in staying close to Toni, no matter the situation. She hadn’t shied away or looked at her differently when Toni had had one of her anger outbursts and that, in combination with her silent glances and soft smiles, had somehow reeled Toni in. The next opportunity that would arise, Toni would for sure try and start a real conversation with the girl. So far, they had only exchanged ‘thank you’s and ‘can you help me with this’s. 

Toni threw the last pebble as far away as she could, watching until the ripple had disappeared. If only their problems on the island, and in the real world, would fade away just as smoothly. She sighed and threw her head back, trying to tame the curly baby hairs on her head and simultaneously hold a hand to her blistering forehead. This heat was no joke. 

She wrinkled her nose and squeezed her eyes shut as she tried to look at where the sun stood right now. Probably three more hours before it would take away some of its heat. 

Toni reached the small beach and sat down on one of the rocks after splashing some seawater in her face and neck. She took off her damp shoes and socks and buried her feet in the sand. Now that she was finally alone, her thoughts caught up with her and she suddenly realised how Marty had slowly started to slip away. Their friendship had never faltered before, so why would a stupid island suddenly be able to break them apart? If she didn’t have Marty, she would have no one. Sure, the others were nice, but if it weren’t for the need to work together to survive, she would be able to do without them. If she had Marty by her side, she’d be fine with whatever challenge the world would throw at her. Then there was Y/N, who seemed to be someone Toni needed around at all times, too. But if it hadn’t been for Y/N sticking around, would Toni have ever found that out? Probably, yes. Because even though Y/N was quiet most of the times, Toni always caught her eyes slipping and landing on the girl. She always looked at Y/N first when she made a joke, a suggestion or when she did something wrong— ready to see the judgement or disappointment, only for it to never show on Y/N’s face. It brought her a certain form of calmness she needed. Y/N’s smile would not only tell Toni that whatever had happened with the situation at hand would work itself out, but it would also soothe the many burns and scars Toni had gathered over the years.

Toni sat down on the damp sand and started to make random shapes in the sand with her hands, feeling more relaxed as she let her mind go blank. Moments like these were a necessity for her, moments where she could just walk away for a while and be by herself to not get riled up by anything or anyone else. But her mind couldn’t completely shut down this time, as it thought of Y/N. Toni was thinking of what to ask her. She’d been so quiet all this time, how was she supposed to know what topic to bring up? Y/N had never mentioned a favourite band or what she liked to do in her free time. Though Toni would never admit it out loud, this made her terrified to talk to the girl. What if she asked exactly that what would upset Y/N? Something that would spark up a bad memory, especially now that they all needed some more positivity and hope? She couldn’t mess up her first shot of a real conversation with the girl, she was too careful to scare away the only other person who seemed unfazed by her anger issues.

She let out a deep sigh, put on her shoes again after dusting off the sand and decided to walk a bit further— she needed a change of scenery to get it out of her head. However, Toni didn’t get far when her breath hitched at seeing the sight in front of her. She saw Y/N, at least she thought it was Y/N, seeing as she was wearing the same clothes, floating in the ocean a few meters off the coast, face down. Toni’s heart sank to her stomach and she was sure her sunburned face was as white as a ghost right now. 

“Y/N!” 

She sprinted into the ocean as fast as she could, though her shoes sunk into the sand with every step. The girl still face down, floating around. Toni swam the last part and closed their distance, immediately grabbing the girl’s upper body to try and turn her around— to let her breathe. She had expected Y/N to stay unconscious, having to carry her out the water, but the girl gasped loudly and moved her arms and legs around frantically, frightened by the surprise. Toni’s eyes widened as she let go immediately, unsure of what the hell was happening. 

Y/N removed the pink goggles on her face and looked at Toni with the same wide eyes,

“Toni?!”

“Are you okay?!”

The two had now drifted more to shore, where they could stand just on their tippy toes.

“What’s wrong?”

Toni furrowed her eyebrows, “What’s wrong? I thought you had fucking died!” Her voice cracked as she raised it.

“O-Oh...” Y/N looked down for a split second, enough to make Toni panic she had scared her off, too. “I was just trying to stay still to look at the fish...”

Toni’s frown disappeared and she smiled softly at the girl, realising there was nothing to be worried about, “You scared the living hell out of me, fuck you.” She let out a breathy chuckle. 

Y/N presented her with an apologetic smile and offered Toni her hand to help her out of the water. 

“Sorry... Thanks for trying to save me...”

“Nah, it’s fine. I’m glad you had fun, though.” She tilted her head to get a better look at the girl.

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully, “Well, up until you scared me, I did. I thought you were some sea creature or something.”

“Yeah, for good reason.” Toni smiled, “I could’ve been. Please be careful next time, yeah?” 

“Okay.”

“So...” Toni chuckled softly, readjusting her wet shirt, partly also because she suddenly became too nervous to say something else and decided to let Y/N take the lead, hoping she could get away with messing with her shirt a tad longer. She crossed her fingers the girl would say something that Toni knew a thing or two about.

Y/N gave Toni a sheepish smile when they locked eyes and looked back at the sea for a split second, “You know, I used to go snorkeling with my parents when we went to Egypt once. In the Red Sea, have you heard of it?” 

Toni hesitantly shook her head, cursing at herself for not paying enough attention in class or she might’ve been able to talk along. 

“Should I tell you a story about it?” 

The girl nodded softly as she followed Y/N’s lead and sat down next to her in the sand. 

“Well, I used to be really scared of the sea— in ways I still am, especially in deep waters, but this depth is just fine— so my mom signed me up for a snorkeling tour with a few other tourists.” Y/N snorted and shook her head at the memory, “It was a nightmare.”

Toni listened closely, surprised by the new, more open Y/N that was unfolding right in front of her eyes. She had already said more than the past few days combined.

“I was too scared to go any further when the water reached my waist and I just waddled around through the water a bit, looking ridiculous with my goggles on. Mind you, I was nine... or something...” 

Toni laughed softly at the visualisation she made in her head of a little Y/N pouting in the water.

“When my mom found out I had spent the hour doing nothing while she’d paid a good amount of money for it, I got scolded so badly.” Y/N let out a soft giggle but Toni furrowed her eyebrows. Why would anyone scold a girl who was just scared? Even worse, why would her mom even sign her up if she knew she was afraid— it seemed like pure torture.

“She made me do it again a few years later and I must say, if it hadn’t been for the gorgeous instructor I was trying to impress, I’m sure I wouldn’t have gone any further than my waist either.” Toni smiled when Y/N tried to see her reaction. “And in the end, it wasn’t that bad at all.”

Toni cleared her throat, wanting to listen to her talk longer, “What did it look like? Underwater, I mean. With the... fish?”

“The water was so clear. There were a ton of different fish, tiny ones and larger ones, though I still tried to stay away from those.” She laughed. “Some had plain colours and others were a bright yellow or red. And so many different type of corals.”

Y/N’s voice died down, and she looked at her lap, thinking of the distant memory that seemed so far away now, and not only because of the years that had passed. Toni noticed the change in character immediately and bumped the girl’s shoulder in a playful manner, “Did you find that here too before I tried to save you?”

“No.” Y/N looked at her, “Not even close.” She suddenly seemed to realise how close the two of them were sitting and refused to look into Toni’s eyes, growing very conscious and nervous. “But I just wanted to clear my head and feel like I was in Egypt for a moment, not in this terrible nightmare.”

“Yeah, I get that...” Toni mumbled in response. “I was actually... trying to do the same thing, you know? Take a walk...” 

“Did it work?”

“Not really.”

Y/N hummed in reply and stared out at the horizon, hoping to see a lifeboat sail their way. But the horizon was empty and dull. The sound of the birds, trees and waves replaced their words as both girls sat in each other’s company. Toni looked at Y/N’s side profile for a few seconds, debating what to do or say next. 

“You know, I like that we talked.” She decided on saying. 

“Really?”

Toni nodded sincerely.

“I talked way too much, you barely said anything.”

“Didn’t even notice.” She shrugged, “I liked listening to you.”

“To my pathetic, poetic story about Egyptian fish?” Y/N rose an eyebrow and challenged the girl. Toni smiled slightly but remained honest, “Yeah. It distracted me from all the other shit for a while. So, thanks.”

Y/N smiled shyly, “Anytime.” 

A few seconds passed before Toni opened her mouth again, “You’re always so quiet. Why’s that?” 

Toni’s blunt question took Y/N off guard, though she did her best to quickly form an honest reply.

“I just... I don’t... I never had a great experience with friends. Better to not have them than get left out or hurt, right? Especially when we’re already in this... weird environment.” She decided to not brush things under the carpet.

“I suppose...” Toni shrugged nonchalantly, she decided against asking further. Besides, she was kind of biased, seeing as she often tended to choose to be alone, too. Then again, why did she stick with Toni when she didn’t want to have any friends? The thoughts made her head hurt and thus she started to absentmindedly play with the sand. 

“I’ve been on my own for years, I reckon I’ll survive another few days. Don’t you think?”

“You don’t have to be, you know.” Toni looked up and squinted her eyes when the sun blinded her. Y/N smiled genuinely, realising what she meant. 

“Thanks, Toni.”

They lingered for a moment in a comfortable silence.

“So, um...” Toni started, bringing her hands up to comb through her hair, “Should we head back?”

Y/N accepted Toni’s help to stand up and smiled softy, nodding in return. The two talked and laughed softly as they walked back to camp, both girls happy that they probably had just gotten a new shoulder to lean on.

[cherrysha]

The Chase

Hey! First post on this blog and its something I’ve never actually written before! Its Yandere Hisoka because I just rlly have a soft spot fr evil bastards. I want to write a lil more on this one buuut ive got sum other baddies i need to write for first. Since its my 1st time writing a yandere fic feedback is rlly appreciated <3

My requests are open atm 

Warnings: Blood, a lil spit, Choking, Yandere themes, violence, slapping, crying, uhh Hisoka being a pervert but thats expected

word count: 1,600

18+ crowd here, minors get blocked.

Part 2 here

It didn’t take you long to understand why you were told to stay away. To be exact, it only took you three seconds.

-

“You know why no one has ever collected Hisoka’s bounty y/n?” your boss asked you after taking this mission.

Judging from his face you could tell the question was rhetorical. You rolled your eyes, waiting for him to finish his little lecture. “No one is stupid enough to walk into their own funeral. If you take his bounty you might as well pick out your own casket first, assuming you even have a body left to bury when he’s done with you. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave this one alone.” And with that, you left slamming the door behind you. No matter how many bounties you collected, it seemed like he just never gave you credit. It was just like him to underestimate your capabilities.

What a fool you were.

-

           That’s all it took. Three seconds and he had already sensed you. Even though you concealed your nen, even though you were a rooftop away, even though you took every single fucking precaution you knew, it did you no good. As you peered through your binoculars at him you were met with Hisoka’s full gaze, a sly smile spreading across his face. You felt it then, your hair standing on end, a sickening feeling in your gut. No, you hadn’t just walked to your funeral, you had sprinted.

You were running before you could even comprehend what happened, feet hitting the pavement as you tried to get as far away as possible. There was no time for you to be shocked, if his bloodlust was any indication of his power, you were as good as dead. There was no use in using any energy to try and conceal yourself now. He knew exactly where you were.

“I’ve got to be honest, you are definitely not what I expected…” Hisoka’s voice whispers into your ear. You faltered, your feet tripping over themselves as you felt the warmth of his breath on your neck. You couldnt hide the shock you felt that he had been able to catch up to you in such a short amount of time. Not many people could, and you had a head start. He lets you run anyway; his urge to murder you overpowered by his sudden desire to see you try to escape. No, he was going to savor this one. Hisoka always loved playing with his food and the way your heart was pounding was just too enticing.

-

You intrigued him, if he was being honest with himself. The chase had lasted longer than he had imagined. Any other bounty hunter would have stopped and tried to fight him by now. No, he could tell you were a smart one, you knew better than that. Hours of running had led to this moment and, oh, was he going to relish in it. 

After what seemed like forever, you finally hit the dirt, spluttering as your body gave out due to exhaustion. Such a weak little thing. And to think you truly believed you could take him on. It was laughable. The chase seemed as if it were over, Hisoka sighed, giving up on his hopes of toying with you even more. At this point he knew he might as well finish you off. He didn’t like playing with broken things, and right now there was no way you would ever be able to take him on. His eyes lingered over you, and something in him hesitated as he glanced at your crumpled form lying in the dirt, chest heaving with exhaustion. Hisoka’s gaze wandered over your body. He couldn’t help the smug smile that crept onto his face with how wrecked you look. Clothes grimy and tattered, bloody arms and legs from branches hitting your delicate skin. The sight alone made his mouth water. As you laid there and finally caught your breath his resolve to kill you started waning. But the thought of watching you try to run again sounded so boring. Both of you knew there was no point. Before he could jump down and finish you off, you spoke for the first time since his little chase started.

“There’s no point in hiding up there. I’m not stupid enough to believe I’ve gotten away.” Once he heard the lilt in your voice, he knew he wanted you. The twinkle that was still held in your dry throat was his undoing. How could someone run from death for hours and still sound as angelic as you did? He needed to know, he needed to hear more.

Your first good look at him was when he finally jumped down. Lithe and nimble, landing on his feet like a cat. He seemed well built, albeit his fashion sense was more than off-putting. “So perceptive…To think someone as smart as you would try to murder me. You should know better.” he chastised, circling you as you shifted into a kneeling position. This was it, twenty plus years on this earth just to go out in a single second. You sighed, it came with the job. You knew the risks. Now was no time to hold a pity party. “Can you make it quick? I promise you I’d rather die than hear you drone on and on about how foolish I am.” You didn’t look at him, instead you held your head down and waited. The chuckle he let out was low in his throat, almost imperceptible if you hadn’t been in the quiet of the forest. Surprisingly, his voice was still calm and collected as he smiled down at you “And what if I don’t want to do that? I don’t think you’re in a position to be making any orders little girl.” you held in the anger you felt bubbling to the surface, knowing that it would only serve to amuse him further. He wanted a reaction out of you, wanted to rile you up so killing you would be even more fun for him. You bit your lip, trying your hardest to resist the urge to punch his stupid face in.

Hisoka drew closer, bending down until you flinched away “Would you like to live?” he whispered, lips ghosting against your ear. His proximity sent a shiver down your spine, as if your body could sense how dangerous he was. “I’m not going to beg for my life Hisoka. You might as well end it now.” He groaned at that. God, did he love the sound of your voice saying his name. it felt as if he could live off of it alone. His fingers slowly traced your jaw until he reached your chin, pushing it up so he could finally get a good look at your face. “You’re a proud little thing aren’t you? No matter, I’m positive your defiant attitude will dwindle with time.” Your breath hitched at his last words. No, He wasn’t going to torture you if you could help it.

The anger was building up in your chest and you couldn’t help yourself when his face was just mere inches from yours. You spit, but that only managed to make his grin grow wider. Even though his demeanor seemed calm, his aura showed the opposite. Long nails dug into your skin as he gripped your jaw tight, blood seeping from the fresh puncture wounds. This time the laugh was audible, amusement in his eyes making your stomach curl. You werent given enough time to react to it for long, however. He lifted you off the ground by your throat, loving the way your hands instinctively curled around his arm. So soft and warm, so easily breakable. He wondered how long it would take to pull you apart piece by piece. Wondered how you’d look at him once he put all your pieces back together.

This was it; this was exactly what you wanted. A swift death. You closed your eyes again and waited as your airway was slowly constricted by Hisoka’s large hand. If you had kept them open, you would have seen the way he swiped your spit off of his cheek, sucking his fingers into his mouth and indulging in his first taste of you. His groan was mixed with a small whine this time. He wanted more; He needed more. His first taste and he already knew he would never get enough of you.

Meanwhile somewhere in the back of your mind you were amazed at how strong he was to only lift you with one hand, but you pushed it away. What a silly thought to have right before you die. of course he was stronger than you. Instead you tried to focus your mind on something better, something sweet. The sky right after a storm, the pond near your house with dozens of colorful fish, the feeling of your warm bed. Everything was going to be okay. You relaxed, letting the last of your breath go.

But within a split second he had dropped you, laughing as your body thudded against the ground. “Such an interesting little creature … A lot smarter than I gave you credit for. You already know just how to push my buttons don’t you sweetheart?” Gasping for air, you lay back in the dirt and allowed the tears to flow freely down your face and into the packed soil beneath you. You had been so close to cutting it short, so close to dying with at least a shred of your dignity left. To cry while on death’s doorstep was shameful, but it didn’t matter. It wan’t  like you could hide them once the torture started. Might as well lose your pride now, there wasn’t anything you could do. You were entirely helpless.

Hisoka saw it, the slump in your shoulders as the tears streaked through the grime covering your face. Those tears, he had to make sure that he was the only one who ever saw them. You were crying for yourself now, but once he got you home the only tears he wanted you to shed would be for him. From the pleasure he gave you. No, no one else could see them. They were his, you were his. He was determined to make you see, no matter how long he had to drill it into your stubborn head. The things he was planning on doing … he needed to ruin you.

Hisoka lifted you up by your neck again, but this time his grip was loose enough to allow you to breath. His hand came to your tangled hair, combing through before harshly yanking backwards only stopping once your face was mere inches from his own. You closed your eyes, not wanting to look at him. Not wanting to see the evil lurking just beneath the surface. Hisoka sighed, “Open your eyes for me darling.” You shook your head as best as you were able to with his grip still firmly in your hair. You couldnt trust yourself to speak, fearing your voice would crack and show just how weak you were.

 An audible crack echoed in your ears as Hisoka slapped you, biting back his moan at the whimper you let out. “Love, it’s impolite to close your eyes when I’m trying to speak to you. I thought my suggestion was enough, but if I have to use force then so be it.”. Fresh tears flowed as you stared at him, biting back your sobs as best as you could. You watched his yellow eyes flick to your cheek, smile widening in satisfaction at what he saw there. He tilted you impossibly close, licking up a trail of tears that marred your swollen and dirty face. “So sweet” he groaned, letting his head rest against yours. “And all mine.”.

[holylulusworld]

Togetherness (2)

Summary: Two years after the people returned from the blip you find yourself searching for your purpose in life.

Pairing: Nomad!Steve x Reader

Warnings: angst, isolation, touch starvation, comforting, fluff, smut, unprotected sex, cuddling & snuggling, lies, ‘only one bed’ trope, bed sharing

A/N: Not endgame compliant. Post End-Game

A/N2: Sequel to Solitude

Solitude masterlist

The first night you spend at Steve’s cabin or rather his house was excruciatingly awkward. There was only one bed - of course, there was only one bed while you had to share a house with Captain America himself.

Gentleman, he is Steve offered to sleep on the couch in his living room, but you refused to let a tall man like Steve sleep on the couch. You offered to sleep on the couch instead which Steve refused to let you do, explaining when the fire dies it might get too cold for you.

In the end, you decided to share the huge bed. 

The first night you woke to his arm draped over your waist, followed by his arms wrapped tightly around your body and his chest pressed to your back. 

Not that you would complain to feel Steve’s body pressed against yours, not at all, but when you wake in the middle of the night, wrapped in a tight embrace your first reaction is to scramble away.

Steve mumbled in his sleep, buried his nose into your hair and you gave up fighting his embrace when you felt his lips press against your neck. 

You never mentioned he kissed your neck or that you could feel his erection. Hell, you were turned on when he mumbled your name.

This is how you ended up in Steve’s arms, pressed to his chest, his chin resting on top of your head. He cuddles you like a koala, not letting go of you until you wiggle to use the bathroom.

Now almost a month later you are used to getting dragged to Steve’s side on the bed to get cuddled as his life depends on it.

Tonight, he rolled you on top of him to hold you in his arms. It feels more intimate and you can’t help it. Your hand reaches out for his face to gently caress his cheek.

“You know, you’re a sexy lumberjack, Captain Rogers.” Giggling you crane your neck to peck his chin. “I wonder how your lips would feel on mine, Steve. Are those lips soft or rough?”

“I don’t know, just try…” Steve whispers and you shriek, startled as said man is wide awake, a boner in his sweatpants. “Take what you want.”

“What I want…” Straddling Steve’s lap you press your hands to his chest. 

For a heartbeat or two, you hesitate. But then you meet Steve’s darkened eyes and the shirt your stole from him drops to the floor. Chilly air hits your breasts and your nipples stiffen, not only from the cool air but Steve’s gaze.

His tongue darts out when he reaches out to cup your tits. “You’re so beautiful, doll.” He is kneading your tender flesh with rough hands, pinching your nipples and you cry out when he sits up to wrap his lips around one tender bud.

“Steve…please…it’s been so long.” His hands find their way to your back, sliding down your body to fists your panties. He is looking up at you, waiting for your consent before the fabric ends up destroyed on the floor.

“Gonna make you feel so good, Y/N.” Cupping the back of your neck Steve brings you to his greedy mouth.

The first kiss is slow, deliberate but it turns into something hungry, more demanding when you slowly grind against his impressive erection.

“Please, Stevie…” Your fingers slide through his hair, fisting hard when Steve starts to guide you up and down his length. “I want you inside…please.”

“I got no condoms…” Purring the words against your lips Steve pants heavily, barely able to hold back the need to just flip you onto your back. “I am on birth control; got a shot before I started the adventure of getting lost…”

“Doll…” Voice lower Steve purrs the pet name before he flips you over.

In a split-second, his sweatpants end up on the floor and he settles between your legs. “Can I fill you up, mark you…?”

Shuddering at the way Steve moans your name and his lips traveling along your neck you nod eagerly. Your hands grasp for his biceps, nails biting deep into his flesh when you watch him hover over you.

“Steve…” Sliding your hands down his chest, looking up at him with wide eyes and parted lips you watch Steve line himself up. He does not hesitate. One forceful snap of his hips fills you completely.

Running your nails down his chest, mewling loudly you watch the usually charming ‘boy next door’ turn into a wild man, gripping your thighs to force your legs around his waist.

You never felt that full before, that stuffed and your toes curl only by feeling Steve slide back out. “Fuck, doll. You’re so tight.”

“It’s been…oh god…Steve!” He’s bracing himself on his forearms, pumping slowly into you. Steve is testing your limit, trying not to go too hard with the first thrusts. “…a while.”

“How long?” Nipping at your lips Steve finds a rhythm taking your voice from you. All he presses out of you are moans, screams, and meaningless words. 

“I…oh—Steve. I lost my husband, so five years or more. When he came back, he was…please lets just…” Your hands paw at Steve’s back when he digs his knees into the mattress, forcing his cock faster into you.

“You’re mine…only mine now.” Possessively Steve grabs your wrists to pin you to the mattress. He’s pushing and pulling, pushing and pulling until your eyes roll back.

You never minded a bit dominance in the bedroom, even liked it and Steve Rogers screams, alpha.

“Steve, you’re so…ah—fuck me.” Toes curling you look up at Steve who watches your tits jerk with every harsh thrust. “I am gonna…”

“Cum for me, doll. I want to feel your pussy choke me.” Unlike the golden boy, Steve takes you apart like the man he became. “I feel it…” Body succumbing to Steve you press the soles of your feet into his lower back.

Pleasure fills your senses, your back arches, and the last thing you feel is Steve’s lips on yours and his cum filling you.

Sighing deeply you fall back onto the pillow, nervously glancing up at Steve who didn’t pull out or move.

He looks you all over. The bliss on your face let him smile and you chuckle when he buries his face into your neck, sighing as you did moments ago.

“It’s been a while for me too, Y/N.”

“If I recall right, it’s been almost six years. When he came back, my husband was different. He didn’t want to touch me and I let him be believing he’ll need more time.”

Running your fingers through Steve’s hair you push the tears away. “One day I came back from work only to find him in our bed with that woman he met at a meeting for ‘returners’.”

“I am sorry, doll.” Humming you close your eyes, just enjoying the afterglow. “You’re too precious for such a fool…”

Month two you spent mostly with christen the bed, or the couch, or any surface in Steve’s house. He’s a passionate lover, a caring man and, you have to admit, the best roommate you ever had.

“So…what did you do before I crashed into your life?” Curling onto Steve’s lap you rest your head onto his chest. “Anything exciting?”

“I liked to watch the sunset, tried to fish and sometimes I just ran through the woods to get as much fresh air as possible. I love the scent of the trees mixed with earth and wilderness.”

Humming you wrap your arms around Steve, wondering what will happen when the snow finally melts.

“Why did you do before you ended up here with me in the middle of nowhere?” Silence fills the room while you recall your life before Steve. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“I liked my job, you know. It was nothing special, but I helped people after the blip to find jobs, a place to be, or just someone to talk to. When everyone came back I believed I can do the same for the returners but oddly, no one wanted our help. 

It was as if we switched places with the returned people. The ones who did not get dusted became unimportant and suddenly, I found myself without my husband, job, and hope. 

I…I just rented a storage room, quit my apartment, and was ready to go on this trip through wilderness only to end up in Steve Roger's arms.” Giggling you look up at Steve.

“Good thing I have two strong arms to keep you safe and pinned to the bed.” Smirking Steve dips his head to capture your lips in a soft kiss. “How about I get us more firewood before more snow comes? I heard there will be a blizzard.”

“Do we have enough food and water? What about electricity, Steve? I don’t want to sound like a scared kid, but I don’t like darkness and cold that much.” Steve wraps his arms around you, cradling you for a while.

“I got canned food for like a year, dried meat, enough water, and firewood. If electricity will fail, I got an emergency generator. I am prepared for anything, even an attack.” Nodding you snuggle into Steve’s chest, trusting the man you know for only two months with your life.

“I know, Captain.”

“Hmmm…now let me get firewood and look at the snow. Maybe there is any sign of your friend the wolf too.” Cockily grinning at you Steve huffs when you slap his chest. “Just saying, he seemed to be into you.”

“I already got a wolf in my bed. Last night he almost ate me alive.” Steve smirks at the memory of you completely worn out underneath him. “You even purred.”

“You turn me into a wild wolf, doll. Now stop distracting your Captain and let him take care of you, baby. I want to keep you save and happy.”

Steve is still splitting wood when you hear someone call his name. Steve seems to be surprised to see the man. Flatten against the wall you peak out of the window on the first floor.

Greeting the man, shaking his hand Steve smiles wildly. “How’s life out here? Do you need anything, Steven? I heard a blizzard is on its way.” The man says and you huff, Steve was right about the weather.

“Yeah, I got all I need. Food, water, enough gasoline, and firewood.” Steve answers. The man nods, smiling again. “I know you are always prepared. Anything else I can do for you than bringing the things from your list?”

List? When did Steve hand that man a list? “I bought everything from the list you hand me three weeks ago. Including ladies’ toiletries.” Now the man smirks, looking up at Steve. “Not that solitary anymore?”

“I got a friend here, I mean…she’s…you know.” Steve stammers and you would find his behavior adorable if not for the lies he told you. “I want her to stay here until the weather is better. The snow and ice are dangerous and…she’s special.”

“Got it, Steven. When you found someone special you want to keep her safe. Best circumstances to win a girl’s heart. Snow, a fireplace, smooth music.” The man laughs, walking with Steve toward his car.

Did Steve know the snow will not stop you from leaving his house? Did he lie to keep you at his house? Why should he do so? Your heart aches remembering the longing in his eyes and the way he touched you anytime he got the chance to.

Steve…he was lonely, touch-starved just like you the whole time. He saw you are the same and believed you could give each other shelter…

“That’s a lot firewood.” Looking at the wood you get up to help Steve to batch it. “Do we need that much?”

“The blizzard is coming, and I don’t know if I’ll make it outside if it’s as bad as I fear. I wanted to be sure we have got enough for two weeks. Maybe I should get more?” Glancing at you wearing only one of his shirts Steve turns to leave the house again.

“Steve, can I ask you something? You know…” Shuffling from one foot to the other your bite your lower lip. “What happens after the snow melted? Do you want me to leave?”

“Doll…I…” Steve drops the firewood to cup your face, shaking his head furiously. 

“I thought about getting my things, you know clothes, memorabilia, and so on when the snow is gone. I just…can I…I mean…” The kiss silences your question and you melt against Steve’s lips.

“I want you to stay with me…here…forever, Y/N.” A bright smile plastered on his face he watches you nod silently. “You’ll stay?”

“I think I like togetherness with you, Captain.” 

“I like it too, doll. Now, more firewood or not?” Shrugging you look at the firewood, not knowing if you’ll need more.

“Did he bring condoms too?” Steve turns pale, his lips quiver when you place your hand onto his heart. “I mean, my shot will not protect me for much longer, Captain. I hope you know we need condoms.”

“I-uh…kinda…have some.” Scratching his beard Steve looks down at you, smiling shyly. “I just like coming inside of you.”

“Well, if you get me pregnant, Captain, it’s your fault, and by the way…” Waltzing toward the wardrobe to get your boots and coat to help Steve to get more wood.

“I grew up where snow and ice ruled the winters. I know when you are snowed in or not…”

>> Part 3

All works Tags

@yolobloggers

@shikshinkwon

@miraclesoflove

@mogaruke

@shatteredabby

@soryuwifeyxx

@letsdisneythings

@i-love-superhero

@psychicforest

@thevelvetseries

@deanmonandnegansbitch

@sabascio

@goodgodimaweirdperson

@that-place-called-middle-earth

@the-broken-angel-13

@trumpettay

@zxph-yr

@belovedcherry

@matsumama

@rynabarnesrogers-reading

@emoryhemsworth

@buckybarnesplumwhore

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

Marvel Tags

@stuckys-whore

@notyourtypicalrose

@voltage-my2dlove

@officialmarvelwhore

@randomgirlkensy

@juniorhuntersam

@lumar014

@doctorswife221b

@sister-winchesters99

@sweetkingdomstarlight-blog

@the-soulofdevil

@chonisberonica

@redroomproperty

@natura1phenomenon

@chaoticfiretaconerd

@heartislubbingdubbing

@hhiggs

@sea040561

@midnightsilver16830

@rvgrsbrns

@fandom-princess-forevermore

@amandamdiehl

@grincheveryday

@thelostallycat

@lunaticgurly

@xxlikeheavenxx

@supernaturalwintersoldier

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

Steve Rogers/Chris Evans Tags

@roonyxx

@stylesismyhubs

@multisuperfandom

@mrspeacem1nusone

@fallenoutofrose

@rynabarnesrogers

@denisemarieangelina

@gabifernandessn

@heyiamthatbitch

@rosalynshields

@void-hoechlin

@patzammit

@donutloverxo​

[onlyhereforangst]

WWR

this may be my latest one (aside from those that never saw the light of day), but sorry life calls sometimes. enjoy the rollercoaster of emotions at the end 😘

Oh Carl, poor Carl. How on earth is he going to survive with Nick? 🤣 Honestly though, Jack so sneaky with her therapy despite being halfway across the globe. I love McGee��s “obviously she thinks you need it Nick” because HAHA nail on the head right there Timmy, he definitely needs it. Needs it to prove to himself a living thing can depend on him and he won’t let it down. 

They clearly still don’t believe in personal space, Nick does NOT need to get that close to look at a simple picture of a body on the camera 👀 broooo you so hooked on her she’s like a magnet pulling you in. Alsooooo them both officially switching to first names even in the field is so key. They might not even realize they’re doing it but at the same time they’re so (relatively) comfortable in their feelings of each other that they’ll say it in front of everyone, no qualms about it. I will also never get tired of hearing Nick call her Ellie. For someone so closed off initially, to now have slowly grown to call her on a first name basis when not a single other soul (sans Toby apparently) gets that sort of treatment 🥺😍 Plus he’s teasing her about food just slightly and it’s like old times again. Ellie getting back into her foodie status is perfect, thank you NCIS for finally giving us that. 

Were back to Carl and I’m chuckling at Nick’s worry for killing it. That is all, it’s hilarious like Gibb’s creepy laugh. 

Ok and now it’s Nick almost making fun of Ellie again, just barely and then he just…listens to her 😩 he just says, oh shit she’s really into this and borderline obsessed and I think that’s actually really f-ing adorable so let me just quietly take this all in because I can’t get enough of this woman and when she’s excitedly rambling about something I’m just going to soak it in because she doesn’t do this often so instead of teasing let me just look, listen and smile like the idiot in love that I am. He’s even kind of holding back a smile when she corrects herself about Kosmic vs Killer Korn. Like goddamn this woman does things to my insides even when she’s just talking about corn and poking me with her finger. Also we’re back to Nick taking a step back and letting Ellie take lead with questioning the food truck people- I love that he respects her so hard that he’ll follow her lead and knows she is a BA with this stuff. 

Some more cute partner stuff as per usual, and I’m sorry Nick do you not have your own computer and desk??? I mean, I don’t mind and I know Ellie doesn’t either but Gould you BE more obvious??? Plus he just nods along when she’s talking because his woman knows what is up y’all and you should listen and bow down. 

Nick calling Fornell, Toby is hilarious to me- such growth. “Emily is finally squared away” FUCK YOU NCIS. FUCK YOU. THE MOST POINTLESS LAZY STORYLINE EVER OKAY. AND I REFUSE TO DIVULGE THIS SHIT MORE BECAUSE IT PISSES ME OFF TOO MUCH. IF THEY DON’T HAVE THIS AS A LARGER PLOTLINE I WILL BE RIOTING. And yes I knew something major was going to happen but good lord that was so unnecessary. I digress. Ellie pondering out loud about Gibbs’ sad personal life and Nick and McGee’s reactions had be ugly cackling. Like dyyyyyyyying. I can’t with her 🤣🤣🤣 she saying what’s everyone is thinking. Nick giving her a little grief is also so perfect for them “yeah you DID say that out loud.”

Ok now to my favorite part, Nick once again following Ellie’s lead and being initially like oh you writing an article ok we’re going with that ok cool. And then Ellie says hold my earrings we getting crazy but at the same time this is rolling off my tongue like I’ve said it a million times and doodled it in cursive in my diary, my HUSBAND and I can help so like you know let us on your truck mister we’re vaccinated anyways. AND NICK I MEAN HIS FACE. The initial surprise of oh no did she *actually* just say that??? Did she??? why yes she did and I’m sorry why do I like the sound of it so much??? What is this bubbling feeling inside my chest of oh damn I would very much like to be her husband and have her babies and have her announce to random strangers on the street that I am hers??? Is this normal? Do I need to call a medic?? Can she say that again is there a reason she would need to? Prove our cover one more time baby, give me a quick kiss, serious it’s for the good of the case. But ok fine no kiss but yeah I’ll roll with this and call you smoothly with your first name and just play into it. I love them both so much in this whole moment. I love them undercover together and just being all cutesy and Ellie’s deepest desires coming out while she’s just you know, investigating the case. 

Ok I am going to completely ignore the reason we are somber in this bullpen in fear of losing my shit again (see above) but we’ll break down the ellick part of it. Nick near her desk because he needs to be by her side even if it’s just her proximity 🥺 And then he takes a long look at Carl before looking at Ellie and man that is poignant even if it seems like just a fish. This living being that he’s been so stressed about keeping alive, realizing he HAS kept it alive. Realizing that he CAN be a person that someone (or a fish) depends on. Realizing he is built for long-term, he is built for the interdependency of a serious relationship. And looking up to Ellie and seeing that need for comfort, for strength, for a person to depend on. He knows her own strength and independence, knows yeah- she could do it on her own if she had to. But he also acknowledges he can be there to help her, he won’t break and he won’t let her down- just like he hasn’t let Carl down. So what does he do? He takes the corn he’d most definitely picked up *before* the news of Emily’s death (and oh good lord is that not the cutest fucking thing? He’d listened to her gush and obsess over Kosmic Korn (and yes if you freeze frame, he got her favorite because he’s observant) and he said, let me take notes, let me get my wife I mean girlfriend I mean partner some corn because it makes her happy, and if I can do even the smallest thing to make her smile goddamnit imma do it. I’m going to show her that any little teasing I give her is for show and I listen and I love this woman enough to go back to Kosmic Korn BY MYSELF—willingly Nick Torres will go back to a food truck—and get this lady some damn corn). But yes he got this before Emily’s death and now not only is it just to make her smile, but it’s a shred of “I hope I can bring you some comfort because otherwise I’m not sure how even though I desperately want to give you comfort.” And Ellie, the small smile of recognition at what Nick did is so sweet. And it morphs into a hesitant, yes corn is great but I really need to feel you, I need to touch you and know you’re still here. Feel you in my arms, feel your chest rise and fall as you breathe me in and I breathe you in. Feel you being alive after all we and this team have been through. McGee might go hug his kids but god I need to hug you Nick. I need to nestle my head even closer to get as physically close to you as possible, feel every inch of your warmth while I wrap my head around how short life truly is. And Nick looking down and stutter slightly at the overwhelming emotion he feels having her in his arms. The peace it brings him and the peace it brings her all-consuming. The realization this is where he was always meant to be and the same to her. How even in a somber moment he’s grateful to be her strength and yet he knows she’s also his strength. That hand that didn’t need to but came up all the same to cradle her head and stroke her hair- holding her head right at his heart. His heart that’s inevitably thumping in his chest for all the right reasons. Pressing her into him, doing everything he can to keep her from shying away and retreating behind those walls they both have. Wrapping his other hand around her upper back, shielding her from the hurt that is the world the best he can. If she never leaves his heart, she can’t be hurt. And he can’t lose her. He’d do anything to never leave that spot, that embrace he so desperately craves and needs. The grounding embrace of finally being in one another’s arms for more than a brief adrenaline-induced second. Neither wanting it to end, and yet knowing it will have to. And honestly I can only picture Nick’s hand still gently brushing her hair as Ellie leans back ever so slightly to look up at him, his warmth still radiating over her as he looks down. Wordlessly they both collect their things to go, never wanting a sound to break that moment. Hands maybe even brushing as they enter the elevator- the unspoken shift between them refusing to be broken if words aren’t muttered. They’re still locked in that embrace if the world stays silent. And that last look of longing at car doors, knowing the moment they step in and drive away it does have to sever- the shift is there but the embrace is split. Both swirling with thoughts as they drive their separate ways home as to where to go next…

Aaaaand then cue a Gibbs-centric episode with trash references to how vets do their job, I’m not bitter. She says as she ruins a sweet emo moment at the end of the wwr with her bitterness 🙄 ANYWAYS I’m gonna leave it with no side notes because honestly I don’t remember any and also it is literally the day of the next episode I’m so terrible at getting this done how do y’all keep waiting for me & reading this trash 😅❤️ 

[agathaharknes]

yennaia + gamer au

This was supposed to be three sentences and definitely not crack but I just had to... sksjsjssksjjs.

Yennaia prompt: Gamer AU.

LINK TO ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN IN THE REPLIES.

Word count: 1.8k+ Pairing: Yennaia. Rating: T.

Tissaia really had no idea why she was doing this. Perhaps to appease Rita. Perhaps because her addiction to nicotine had worsened over the course of one year of a bloody Continent-wide pandemic and she was loath to use her credit card every time she needed a new pack of cigarettes. Perhaps she was going through a midlife crisis to cope with the fact that being the Chancellor of Aretuza College was already stressful enough without half the generations there trying to fool her subordinates into thinking cardboard replicas or even mannequins counted as attendance or simply because the rest of the Board of Governors (Stregobor) couldn't differentiate between what could be said through an email and what required her to clean her entire house so the background of her call was pristine.

Her controller vibrated in her hands, (Why, for the love of the Gods, couldn't that setting be turned off?) her knuckles turning white from gripping it so strongly. "Oh, for fu- heaven's sake." There, she had been ambushed. Again. A funny and wholly unexpected thing happened, though, one of the users turned on her companions, offing the lot of them with clean headshots the brunette definitely couldn't pull off in the span of twenty seconds.

"Uhh..." What does one say when your virtual saviour just betrayed her entire party on a whim and was being cursed at obnoxiously loudly and vulgarly for it?

Yennefer ignored Sabrina calling her names that absolutely applied to her and her hormonal reaction to a lovely blue-eyed MILF the likes of which she had only seen in her dreams. "No thanks needed, love. I was getting tired of seeing you frown like someone had keyed your car every time you got killed. A pretty thing like you should only have cause to smile." Oh, Gods, now she sounded like a creepy old man that lived in his mum's basement. Great. Good job. Her Social Studies major was an absolute hit. Fuck her life. Fuck Oxenfurt College. And fuck Sabrina's witch-like cackling while she was at it. "Name’s Yennefer." She choked out miserably.

Tissaia scowled at her laptop. Hackers. Amazing. This was the best day of her new normal life. "Mind telling me how you broke through the most expensive antivirus in the Continent, dear? Because now I really need a refund." Now she also needed to contact Aretuza’s IT team on a Saturday night, because she was not about to mess any further with these blasphemous machines, thank you very much.

Wait, what? "That wasn't me... You left your camera on." The woman legitimately squealed at that, her oversized jumper sliding down her left shoulder and exposing just a glimpse of her collarbone as she pinned up her hair into a bun with... were those pens fashioned as swords? Oh, bugger, this was so not the time to get turned on! "Are you alright?" Mercifully Sabrina, Renfri and Phillipa were already accosting someone else, else she was sure the brunette would've completely lost it, more than she already was doing, anyways. "Hello?" No answer.

Tissaia was fishing for her boots when she started ranting, “Oh, don’t you worry! I’m fine! Just dandy! This is exactly how I wanted my life to go.” She motioned with her hand to the space around her. “I wished for nothing more than dealing with complete morons from nine to six, five days a week, whilst trying to make sure my sanity doesn't desert me.” Biting her lower lip for a moment she began checking that the ends of the laces were the same length when she pulled them up. “Running right after to my local grocery store to buy more instant meals that are probably going to give me cancer in five years if the bullshit articles my mother keeps sending me-”

Yennefer had told herself she wasn’t going to allow this wasn’t going to get any creepier than her misguided comment but she still had a gift code for that nice liquor store which conveniently had retailers popping up every six blocks everywhere for the last few months, especially in Thanned isle, only Gods knew why. “This bloody succubus of a twat that is my best friend has been forcing me to constantly use this cursed game by changing the password for my email and then Aretuza’s server and then-” Bingo. One text to Philippa and they had her IP address, with a mortified Triss already calling Jaskier since she was the only one that had managed to get a decent scholarship at that posh college.

This was her future wife who was about to jump from a bridge from the looks of her and they just had to do humanity a great service by saving her from herself and from sobriety.

“Can you believe that tosser? I am a lesbian! I spent my teenage years clad in flannel until my girlfriends staged an intervention kind of lesbian! Yes, Vilgefortz, I will sue you for harassment in the workplace and I will blacklist you. No, Vilgefortz, I don’t want to break quarantine to go on a date with you and I definitely do not want your disgusting cologne anywhere near my-” Tissaia’s head shot up, her doorbell was ringing and she pinched the bridge of her nose, reaching for a new, disposable, mask.

“You stay right there.” She threatened the girl, who had the most beautiful violet… Perhaps she really ought to let Coral get her a therapist. It rang again. “Gods-damn-it.” She thought.

Her plan was going marvellously. She would only have to sleep with a knife under her pillow for a few weeks for blackmailing Sabrina (Who honestly hadn’t the slightest talent to pass off plagiarism as a sudden stroke of genius in her final project without her aid.) into going along with this. The blonde was lighting the candles around the monitor without trying to burn her hair off and had given away her best bottle of cheap but still good wine for the cause. Thanks to Renfri and her frankly psychotic, owl obsessed, girlfriend she already knew what she would be replacing her trauma-ridden last name with! Splendid!

The brunette shut the door on Jaskier’s face after taking the brown paper bag from his hands, spraying the bottle of vodka inside it with so much disinfectant that it dripped down onto her carpet. Taking off her gloves and disposing of them, she grabbed a knife from the counter and ignoring the annoying blue light that came from the kitchen table, “Oh, shit. You’re soulmates. I’ll tell the rest of the girls we’re all fucked.” Tissaia cut off the upper part of the glass in one smooth hit, like Calanthe had taught her when the then teacher could still be considered fun by her groups of friends.

“Shut up, tiddybug!” She heard Yennefer sing-song.

Feeling like being crass the blue-eyed woman took a rather large swing directly from the bottle. Sitting back down, she sighed. Yennefer took a dignified sip from her wine; she could do balanced when her significant other to-be needed to let loose. “Did you like the bottle? It has good reviews from… wait a minute… apparently several alcoholics who don’t know what a budget is.”

Tissaia’s face paled. “I thought you weren’t a hacker.” The woman muttered. She didn’t fancy getting kidnapped and… No, no, no. Fucking Rita. What was the cost of moving, again? If she slept four hours less a day and split her cleaning time in two she could probably trade this house for Stregobor's in-

“I am not!” Yennefer cried. Bloody hell. “You just mentioned that you worked at Aretuza and-” Sabrina had probably started a group call and Phillipa was indeed hacking into her computer to save her arse. The Redanian was currently writing a script for her to follow. “Your username in the game is your surname. My friends and I tried to get into that school a few years back and I do remember that the Chancellor is a woman and that her last name is de Vries.” Her username wasn’t her last name, it was actually something that suggested she was an Ice Queen of the highest order. Queen Elsa from the movie Frozen would be intimidated kind of Ice Queen.

“Everyone is aware the highest-ranking members of the faculty live in chalets near the castle, pardon, the building.” True. According to Triss, that was a part of their contract that if unfulfilled prohibited them from working there ever again. To Yennefer that seemed borderline cruel, forcing them to be available at all hours like circus animals for juniors that didn’t deserve their spots.

“My best friend is a student there and she knows which one is your home because she wants to eventually be a teacher.” Partially true. Until that day came, Triss, like any rational individual, avoided the Chapter’s Village like the plague lingered inside, and wouldn’t be caught dead there unless she had to stop Sabrina from doing something stupid because of the anarchist phase she was going through. Jaskier was an acquaintance of hers of sorts because Triss had tutored his boyfriend Geralt in Biology and being daddy’s boy, he knew which one was Tissaia’s house because he had almost gotten expelled like fifteen times.

“I honestly just wanted to do something nice for you, you sounded like you needed it and… I know quarantine hasn’t been lifted once in Temeria since it all started.” Philippa wrote then that she would probably make for a decent actor without flashing her breasts to the audience every five minutes. She pursed her lips and replied in the mock post-it note to fuck off.

“I… I… Thank you. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed- I’m sorry, darling.” Her pale cheeks flushed at the term of endearment that slipped her tongue and Tissaia bowed down her head, red-painted nails caressing the glass bottle almost reverently. “Say, why don’t you tell me what your email address is and I send you my mobile via chat? The explosions in the background aren’t that, uhm, comforting to listen to when I’d much rather be hearing your voice.” Should she have looked up she would have seen the smile that threatened to split Yennefer’s face. “Only if you want to, of course! I- what am I even saying? Never mi-”

“No! Wait!” She placated. Sabrina squeezed her shoulder as she went to retrieve her phone charger, offering her a genuine smile. “I’d love to.”

“Okay.” Said Tissaia, an awed sound leaving her throat when blue finally meet with lilac. Gods, she was drop-dead gorgeous. Rita could have whichever bottle, all the liquor she wanted from the school’s cellar for indirectly enabling this.

Was one week a proper enough courting period to then buy the engagement ring? Or should she just have Philippa get her the best, costliest one from that jewellery eshop they all liked through some minor fraud that would take her like half an hour at most, today? “Good.” Yennefer de Vries had such a nice ring to it.

[stayndays]

𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟏𝟒: Kudos, Golden Trio

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆! This chapter includes:

Injury/Blood

Foul Language (This most out of all the chapters)

Most Likely Incorrect Terms for Driving (I can’t drive yet)

𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 : “You came here to assist your boss at a party he’s invited to, not to solve a murder with a group of strangers you’ve just met. Yet here you are, staring at the dead mansion owner who hosted the party in the first place, surrounded by eight men with high statuses in society: and one of them is a murderer. The question is who? And can you solve the mystery without being killed yourself?”

Visit the masterlist first before proceeding. It has all the info you need to read this series.

“Fuck you!” You shout at the killer before hurling one of your shoes right at the car’s window. To your utter disbelief, it somehow works, and the shattered glass falls all over the driver’s seat. You and Jeongin rush to enter the car through the window, Hyunjin trailing behind a split second later after figuring out what you two were attempting to do.

Hyunjin lets out a yelp once he realizes his jacket has been slashed by a throwing knife, but he’s quick to pick up the knife from the dirt and continue running. By the time he’s dived through the small hole, you and Jeongin are in the back seat, your exposed legs getting scratched with tiny shards of glass as you attempt to wipe them away from your seat. Your side of the car, however, is the one closest to the killer, which worries you greatly.

“FUCK! We need the key to start this thing!” Hyunjin exclaims in fury, clearing panicking as much as you two are. “WATCH OUT-”

Crash. The front window falls apart right in front of your eyes, and you could barely cover them in time for the glass to explode all around you. The three of you duck away from the windows from that point on, you in particular trying to stay in the middle of the seats. You whine with desperation. If the three of you bail on this plan, you lose your head start and will likely all get hit by Minho. It’s practically a lose-lose situation, and there’s nothing you can do about it.

“Not a very smart plan, huh?” Minho grins as he prances over to the car, his eyes targeting Hyunjin. Jeongin starts to hyperventilate, realizing how terrible of a mistake this was. He hides his face with his hands and stays in the corner, mumbling jumbles of words.

“I’m sorry, I’m so, so, sorry-”

“THE KEY!” You scream out, your eyes lighting up when you remember one crucial part of your search. “The one that we deemed useless, try that one!”

Hyunjin’s mouth forms an “o” shape as he scrambles to fish out the key from his pocket. He grips the key and inserts it into the hole, twisting his wrist.

The engine revs up, and you almost let yourself relax and let out a sigh of relief.

And then you remembered: Oh, the killer’s still there.

“DRIVE!” You yell at Hyunjin’s ear, and he hits the pedal immediately, turning the car around so it’s now facing the opened gate. The car lets out a screeching noise as Hyunjin accelerates the car’s speed, speeding his way out of the mansion’s fenced off area.

Minho’s tricks don’t stop there, however, as he manages to break the other side of the car’s windows. The side Jeongin happens to be on. More glass comes tumbling into the vehicle, pouring onto Jeongin’s head.

“I-” Jeongin cups his right eye with his hands. “I can’t see! Fuck, the glass!”

You turn to look at the window behind you, which is somehow still intact. Locking eyes with Minho, who continues to run faster and faster, you gulp nervously. “Drive, Hyunjin! Faster!”

Hyunjin grinds his teeth at your demand. “I’m trying, Y/N!” He grips the steering wheel tighter, determination filling him. “We’re almost there, we’ll be okay!” The car makes its way to the turn Minho was referring to earlier, and your hands start trembling with anticipation. You turn to look at Jeongin, but the sight makes you wince with pity. Blood is dripping down the hand holding his injured eye, his other eye letting out tears instead of blood, and you rub his shoulder to comfort him. Hopefully, at the end of all of this, Hyunjin can treat both your hand and Jeongin’s eye.

“YES!” Hyujin shouts, pumping a fist in the air, as the car zooms past the goal Minho set for the three of you. He continues to drive while you look back to find Minho, only to see him walking back to the mansion without a final, single glance at you. The car eventually stops to your dismay with Hyunjin needing to hit the brakes, and his eyes furrow together, opening the car door to inspect the vehicle.

When he returns, he lets out a sigh. “Looks like he damaged a tire, must’ve been his last attempt to stop us.”

You nod in agreement while Jeongin catches his breath, processing what just happened. “The worst night of my life,” Jeongin lets out, his head falling back onto the seat.

“I second that, but unfortunately, we’re a bit screwed.” Hyunjin’s comment gives you an unsettling feeling in your stomach.

“And.. Why is that?” you muster the courage to ask him.

“Look at the mansion,” he nods his head in the direction of the house. You and Jeongin turn your heads simultaneously to get a look at it.

It’s a raging fire by now, escaping through the windows upstairs. Jeongin gasps, and you let out a curse from under your breath.

“We’ll definitely go to prison for that...” you realize, but you don’t have enough energy to freak out over it right now. “Well, if we go to the police right now, we’ll basically be turning ourselves in.” 

The three of you sit in silence for a while. You didn’t expect this reaction when you fantasized about all three of you managing to escape; instead you expected celebrating and smiles on everybody’s faces.

“Do you two want to…” Hyunjin starts to suggest. “Stay at my place for a while and hide there?”

“Yeah,” Jeongin timidly responds, earning a pleased hum from Hyunjin. “Sounds good. Okay, we can do that.” The tiniest smile forms on all three of your faces, nodding at each other in content.

“We escaped… we did what we wanted to do all along…” You start quietly speaking.

The images of the five other innocent members coughing in the flames and their bodies burning, along with Minho staring at the mansion proudly sets you ablaze. You finally let your tears fall, letting out a sad grin and looking down at the hand with the knife right through it.

“But at what cost?”

~

ENDING ACHIEVED: “At What Cost?” (SUCCESS?)

This ending is achieved by escaping the mansion with all your alliance members, but leaving the rest of the group behind with an unknown fate, along with letting the Killer King run free.

~

Congratulations. Technically, you didn’t die, so you were able to escape the mansion. With that being said, however, I’ll have to let the author out of her room, and let her get back to her blog. She’ll be answering asks sent after this chapter is posted.

Thank you for the fun October! Maybe next year I’ll return?

Kudos, players. The Killer King spared you today.

~

[ PLEASE TAKE ONE FINAL SURVEY TO WRAP UP THIS SERIES. ]

(best name of last chapter: “Fuck u Minho I knew u werent cool enough to dab (uwu)”)

~

WHAT’S NEXT?

Sometime these next few days, I’ll release a post explaining as many clues and red herrings in this series as possible, so be on the lookout for that!

Other than that though, the blog will actually be completely revamped (new theme!), and from November 1st to November 14th, I will be taking a break from posting my writing! (I need it very badly, I’ve been driving myself insane by writing 1k+ words every other night in 2-3 hours)

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading this series! I hope you all had a good October <3

taglist:  @desertofdessert @crscendoforsung @cotccotc @leggomylino @skzctnightnight @freckledberries @nizhonimoon @hanniiesuckle17 @binniesbabybear @tsuki-moons @lbxgsunshine @csbverse @mangoisawesome @peachyhan @worldtriiiip @golden--rain @bubblyjisunq @kimpchi @loey-letters @pokyloky @wherevermyway @avrea-tt @bossuns @sunoo-luvs @katherineee19 @ph0ebevix @qt-k1mb @444scb @grandmasterslickfox @k-pop-valda @skzwriternet

... --- / -.-- --- ..- / .- .-. . / .- / .-- .. - -. . ... ... / --- ..-. / - .... . / -- ..- .-. -.. . .-. ..--.. / .. / ... .- .-- / - .... . / -.. . .- -.. / -... --- -.. -.-- / ..-. .. .-. ... - --..-- / -.-- . ... .-.-.- / .- -. -.. / -.-- --- ..- / -.. . -.-. .. -.. . -.. / - --- / ..-. .-.. . . / - .... . / -- .- -. ... .. --- -. / .-- .. - .... / -.-- .- -. --. / .--- . --- -. --. .. -. / .- -. -.. / .... .-- .- -. --. / .... -.-- ..- -. .--- .. -. --..-- / -.-- . ... ..--.. / -.-- . ... .-.-.- / -... ..- - / .- .-.. --- -. --. / .-- .. - .... / - .... .- - --..-- / -.-- --- ..- / -.. . -.-. .. -.. . / - --- / -.. . ... - .-. --- -.-- / .--. .-. --- .--. . .-. - -.-- / - --- / . ... -.-. .- .--. . --..-- / .-- .... .. -.-. .... / .-. . ... ..- .-.. - . -.. / .. -. / - .... . / -.. . .- - .... ... / --- ..-. / ..-. .. ...- . / .--. . --- .--. .-.. . --..-- / -.-. --- .-. .-. . -.-. - ..--.. / .-.-.- .-.-.- .-.-.- -.-- . ... .-.-.- / .-- .... .. -.-. .... / -... .-. .. -. --. ... / -.-- --- ..- / .... . .-. . --..-- / .- / .--. .-. .. ... --- -. . .-. / .- - / - .... .. ... / .--- .- .. .-.. --..-- / .- -. -.. / .-- . / .... .- ...- . / .- / -.-. --- ..- .--. .-.. . / --.- ..- . ... - .. --- -. ... / ..-. --- .-. / -.-- --- ..- .-.-.- / -.. --- / -.-- --- ..- / ..- -. -.. . .-. ... - .- -. -.. ..--.. / .-- . / -. . . -.. / ...- . .-. -... .- .-.. / .- --. .-. . . -- . -. - --..-- / -.-- -..-. .-.. -..-. -. / -.-- -..-. -. .-.-.- / -.-- -....- -.-- . ... .-.-.- / .. / .- .-.. ... --- / -.- -. --- .-- / .-- .... --- / - .... . / -.- .. .-.. .-.. . .-. / .. ... .-.-.-

-.- .. .-.. .-.. . .-. / -.- .. -. --. .----. ... / ... . --.- ..- . .-.. ---... / -.-. --- -- .. -. --. / .- ... / ... --- --- -. / .- ... / - .... . / ..-. .. -. .- .-.. . / .... .. - ... / ..... ----- / -. --- - . ... .-.-.-

[farouchelyoptimistic]

HyunJi: Let Me

“Is it good, hmm?” Soo Hyun smiles as he watches Yea Ji eat in front of him, across the coffee table in her living room. He marveled at the sight of her as she eagerly enjoyed her meal, stuffing her cheeks with meaty mandus and the samgyupsal he brought over. He grabs a tissue and reaches for her face, wiping the side of her lips. She smiles, taking it from him, wiping her lips on her own. He only smiles, retracting his hand. 

“Komawo.” She says, which he only nods at, forcing out a small smile as he returns to his own food. She was always so independent, she had shown him that even before they officially got in a relationship. She would order her own drinks and pay for them before he could even fish for his wallet. She carried her own bags, took off and wore her own coats, sometimes she didn’t even give him the chance to pull her seat for her. 

He understood that it was who she was. Her independence was a part of her. But sometimes he wished she wasn’t too capable of taking care of herself. He was her boyfriend, but sometimes he felt like he wasn’t. He wanted to do things for her, but most of the time she beats him to it. It was already a bummer that he couldn’t take her to the streets, to hold her hand and enjoy the first snow together without being bombarded by all the press and the speculations. All he could do was the little things, simple and small, and yet sometimes he felt like he’s also not allowed to. 

At the sound of her coughing, he immediately pushes himself up to get her some water, but she was already on her feet, telling him she’s got it. He watches her run to the kitchen, grabbing a glass and filling it water. He could only release a silent sigh, sitting back down. 

This was the first time in weeks that they actually got to spend more than a few minutes together. They had been booked and busy, filming and shooting individual jobs. It was fun, they couldn’t deny it, but it was exhausting. Long hours of nonstop outfit changes, posing and smiling could suck the life from about anyone. Today’s shoot was especially tiring, also given that he hadn’t had enough sleep from a previous ad shoot. He was a bit stuffy today, even his manager noticed his off mood, but the only thing keeping him light was the fact that he would get to spend dinner with Yea Ji tonight. 

When something falls and breaks on the floor followed by Yea Ji’s loud cry of pain, it doesn’t take him a second to jump on his feet and run towards her. The blood on her foot from the broken glass was the first thing he saw. He drops to the floor, examining her foot, worry immediately washing over him. It wasn’t a huge cut, but it was bleeding profusely. “Kinchana?”

Her face twists in slight pain, nodding her head as she forcefully pries his hand off of her foot. She straightens up and limps away from him, making her way to the bedroom. “I’ll clean that, just let it be.” She says, dragging her injured foot across the floor. 

It was probably the fatigue combined with the lack of sleep that had tipped off his glass. He bites the inside of the cheek and huff out a breath. He stands up, hands on either side of his hips as he turns around to her. “Jebal!” His voice thunders, filling the space. Yea Ji jumps in surprise and fright, unconsciously turning on her injured foot, making her wince in pain but she looks at him in utter shock. Her heart started to thud a tad bit faster. 

“Jebal.” This time his voice was softer, but still laced with intensity. “Why can’t you just let me? Let me do things for you. Let me wipe your damn lips, let me get you a glass of water. Let me help you. You’re independent, I know that. But please. Please let me feel like I’m actually your boyfriend. I want to take care of you, Yea Ji, but I feel like you’re not allowing me to. Please don’t make me feel like I’m useless. I want to take care of you, but I need you to let me. Is it that fucking hard to try?!” 

A huge breath escapes his lips as he stops talking. He looks away, biting his bottom lip. His chest heaves up and down as he tries to stabilize his breathing from the effects of his impulsive outburst. Realizing the extent of his explosion, he runs his hand over his hair, massaging his nape as he lets out a sigh. “Yea Ji-ah.” He gently calls out, guilty of the way he unleashed his words. He knew he could have said it any kinder. He was just tired, and that was his only lousy reason. When he looks up, she was already running inside her room, slamming the door behind her. 

He lets out a sigh, contemplating whether to run to her right here and then. He huffs out another breath, slamming his hand against the kitchen counter, “Damn it.” He mutters under his breath. For the first time, he had done something he never even imagined ever doing. He hurt her feelings. 

He runs his palms over his face, squatting down on the floor to clean the broken glass. “Kim Soo Hyun, you idiot.” He says to himself as he carefully picked the broken shards of glass. 

Yea Ji harshly wipes her tears with her palms, rubbing her cheeks roughly as he dries the tears that continue too flow out of her eyes nonstop. Her heart ached and hammered against her chest, not because she was hurt but because she was guilty. The truth in his words were made her angry at herself. 

It wasn’t like she was refusing to let him do the things he wants to do, it’s just that she was so used to fend for herself on her own that being overly independent comes natural to her. She lived in a foreign country on her own for a few years, and even before that, she always enjoyed her solidarity even when she was just a young kid. She’s used to doing things alone that she comes to a point where she’s not even aware that she’s doing it. In fact, she finds herself on a certain level of happiness in the comfort if the loneliness in her solitary. 

Being taken care of was something so unnatural, something she has to force herself to get used to. She now had someone who was willing to care for her well being even more than his own, and she was sure he wasn’t going away anytime soon. The relationship was fresh, but they had known each other for long, and she’d want him to stay longer. She was happy spending time with herself, but the extent of happiness that floods her being in his presence is incomparable. He made her feel happiness she never imagined was possible for an individual to attain. 

A relationship is like a chemical equation. To gain stability, both ends must meet an equilibrium. One must receive what the other has to offer and provide for which one lacks. Love is nothing but a balancing act. It comes with all the elements to make a reaction, trust, loyalty, faith, compromise. 

Soo Hyun lets out a soft sigh as he stands behind the door. He’d been stuck on the same spot for who knows how long, listening to her silent sobs from the other side. It broke his heart to pieces knowing he had caused her that level of internal suffering. Biting the inside of cheek, he twists the knob, pushing the door open. He immediately sees her on the bed, back towards him, crouched down as she tends her wounded foot. 

A surge of guilt waves over him, a frown making its way on his face as he slowly glides his way around the bed, sitting on the edge, just an arm’s length away from her. She doesn’t look at him, her eyes fixed on her foot as she carefully dabs antiseptic on the small cut. The shift on the bed because of his weight doesn’t come unnoticed, she only glances at him for a split second from the corner of her eye. She didn’t know what to say, so tries to keep silent until she figures out what kind of words to release. 

“Mianhae.” His voice was soft and gentle, contrast to his unintentional impulsive outburst a while ago. He inches closer, but gives respect to the distance between them. He’s careful not to startle her too much. He knew he did wrong, he had never raised his voice at her until a while ago and he promised that it was also going to be the last. He never meant it to happen, he himself was shocked. 

“I didn’t mean to raise my voice. Mianhae, Yea Ji-ah.” He scoots a little closer, finding courage to hold her hand. She could’ve easily snatched her hand away, but she doesn’t. She allows him. He takes her other hand, putting the gauze on the table so he was holding both. Her head was hung low, making him unable to see the face he so loved to gaze at. He crouches down, leaning forward trying to seek her. “Look at me, baby.” He almost pleads. 

When she lifts her head, her eyes meeting his, he almost wanted to jump up in glee. He only releases a small smile, reaching for her face to wipe the faint tear stains on her cheek. He pins a few strands of her hair behind her ears. 

“I know you are perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, but I hope you let me take care of you too. Because I want to, and I love you and I want to show you that I really do. I just want to take care of you.” He says, rubbing the back of her palms with his thumbs. She bites her lips, cutting eye contact as she lets out a breath. She takes her hand away, reaching for something beside her and hands it to him. A band aid. 

A small chuckle erupts from him as he takes it from her. It was her small act of compromise, a confirmation. He unwraps it, gently putting it over her wound. 

“I can take care of myself.” She says, making him look up at her. “I can take care of myself, but I’ll let you take care of me too. Not because I can’t, but because you want to. And I love you. And I want you to have what you want.” She tries to look away, but she couldn’t take her eyes away from him. She lets out a small smile, making him grin. 

He runs his fingers through her hair, leaning over to press a kiss on her lips. She smiles in the between the kiss, her heart exploding with new levels of happiness. What meant to be just a quick kiss of reconciliation quickly turned warm and passionate. He continues to advance forward, making her lean back, inching further back on the bed. He slowly crawls over her as she surrenders herself against the soft mattress. 

Their tongues duel in a fight for dominance, tasting every corner of each other’s mouths. Her arms cling around his neck, her hands buried in his hair, tugging and pulling. He cups her face, deepening the kiss, his other hand gripping her hip. A low moan escapes from the back of her throat, triggering more of his primal instincts, mounting her on the bed as he ravaged her. 

With a newfound surge of masculinity, he lets his hands travel down her body, grazing the side of her breasts making her arch her back, on her waist, down her hips until he reaches her thighs, trailing up and down. Gripping the back of her knees, he tugs her closer, pulling her body towards him, legs on either side of him. She lets out a whimper as he does that, immediately muffled by his assaulting kisses. 

She always had inhibitions and reservations when it comes to being intimate. She had restrictions, yes, but at this very moment they were basically all thrown out the door. It was remotely impossible to even remember whatever boundaries she had tried to force upon herself when his touches ignited multiple flames that spread like wildfire all over her entire body. His kisses were hypnotizing, making her lose all the hold on whatever wits she had left. 

Her breath falters when his hands sensually glides over the exposed skin of her thigh, a slight whimper escaping when he bites her lip, his predatory instincts kicking in. At one last deep thrust of a tongue that sent both of them to the edge, he forces himself to pull out of the kiss. Their chests heave up and down as they try to catch their breaths, staring at each other, eyes locked and sealed. 

His eyes traveled down to her fairly exposed skin. Her top falling down her shoulder, exposing her neck, revealing the cleavage between her mounds. He swallows an invisible lump at the sight of the inviting temptation she embodied. They had gotten carried away way beyond their boundaries, and he knew if they continue to lose control at this very moment there was no more stopping. They were trying to take things slow, and taking this further did not define slow. 

The sight of her smooth milky skin, soft like silk and fragrant like flowers clouds all rationality. Entranced and bewitched, he leans in again, trailing heated kisses on her jaw, down her neck. She involuntarily arches her back at the foreign sensation, a long breathy moan escaping her lips. It was music to his ears, only aggravating the growing tightness in his pants. With a pained grunt and one last deep kiss on the space between her collarbones, he forces himself to push himself up. 

He pants, chest rising and falling. He grabs her top, pulling it over to cover her exposed skin. They looked at each other, eyes filled with blinded lust and passion. Their breaths warmed each other’s faces, their faces hot and flushed. “Let’s stop.” He says, fixing her top as he slowly gets off of her. He lies beside her, gathering her in his arms, she was pressed against his chest. “For now.” He whispers, pulling her closer, pressing his cheek on the top of her head. 

“Araso.” She whispers, feeling the warmth of the blood run to her cheeks. What just happened was beyond her wild imagination, and though she had shoved all thoughts of it to the back of her head, she was also pooling with curiosity. And tonight marks the beginning of feeding that.