#i hope this makes SOME amount of sense i had to come back to writing this multiple times

[goomyloid]

the chara comic you posted is awesome! i really love the way you color things!

personally, i think chara would not be okay with seeing the monsters be killed, even to "see everything about them because they love them". if i interpreted the comic correctly, and you were suggesting that they would think it's worth it to "see everything", i'd like to ask: why do you think that?

i'm not trying to be confrontational or anything, i'm just curious about your interpretation of their character

hiii firstly thank you for enjoying my comic!! i worked pretty hard on it so im really glad people like it!

i had to think about this question for a while, and i guess this is my answer:

i think that while chara was alive, they weren’t okay with seeing monsters around them die, and wouldnt kill them themself, but that doesn’t mean they were ‘pure’ and against killing altogether; they did want to kill the humans from their village, and getting the chance to do so was presumably one of the reasons they were willing to commit suicide. after all, it seemed to me like their plan was just as much of a revenge plan as it was a plan to save monsterkind, and i think it’s a common interpretation that they were stewing on those negative feelings after death for a loooong time.

though i suppose that’s just my reasoning for their capacity to kill. in terms of them wanting to “see everything,” i intended for there to be a few different meanings/implications for this:

1. the more literal comparison to the player, relating to how we do the no mercy route not because we hate the characters, but because we love them; we want to see everything they have to say, even if it means hurting them, because we’re too attached to the world undertale has to offer (though this feeling depends on your personal experience with the game)

2. the less literal, more diegetic comparison to flowey, who has cycled through numerous timelines, “reading every book” and “burning every book” so to speak, i.e. seeing everything the world has to offer — not out of love, but in a desperate attempt for entertainment, since he couldnt feel love himself. hence the line, “you need more and more and more love, but it’s never enough. so you stretch everything thin until it breaks.”

3. a nod to chara’s tendency to push things to its limit in general. things like them filling water glasses all the way to the top, or 9 being their favorite number. but their desire for extremes (such as their plan, which was pretty extreme if you ask me) doesnt always end in success; sometimes it ends in dire failure.

this, along with the fact that no matter what interpretation of chara you may hold, they generally might not have been the greatest person. which makes sense, right? no one is gonna be entirely good or bad. if anything, people tend to portray more of the ‘bad’ side of chara we see in the no mercy route. and while chara interpretations historically DO tend to be overwhelmingly (and inaccurately) negative (insane killer facemelty evil demon and all that), it still feels wrong to me to do a complete 180 and say chara was completely good and normal and hated dying and death and everything related to it. (not that this was your interpretation ofc, just using hyperbole to describe other interpretations ive seen in passing)

before this gets wildly too long, the point ive been trying to get to is that there’s Nuance. i dont think chara is “okay” with killing monsters so much as them seeing it as a means to an end, in a sense; the person doing it is trying to achieve something outside of just Piles of Asriel's Monster Dust. to “love something so much you want to destroy it” isn’t usually a conclusion most normal people come to, but these three entities in question — the player, flowey, and chara — are definitely Not Normal, each in their own respective ways. all of this is to say that chara doesn't necessarily condone the player annihilating monsterkind or flowey toying with people's lives, they can understand the sentiment behind it and Why we do it.

i could go on but the TLDR is that: while i think chara has the capacity to wish death on others in general, the main idea is less about what they think is morally right or wrong and more about their reaction to OUR (and by extension, flowey's) decisions; it's less so chara "being okay" with monsters dying (in fact, i tried to convey that they're not all that happy about it, with how they look down at flowey rather Menacingly on that one page) and more of them analyzing the situation as a whole and reflecting on their life and sentiments.

DEEPLY SORRY FOR THE WALL OF TEXT but it was fun to get my thoughts out more clearly! usually i like to leave comics like this more up to the reader's interpretation, so if others saw it differently than me, that's totally okay, these are just my personal thoughts ^^

[kalims]

⭒ㅤwhose (not) random kid

premise. crash landing from the future is apparently your kid, not that you know that anyway... in the form of a mixture between you, and your... supposed counterpart, clues are bound to pile up as to whose child this is.

parts. rosehearts, kingscholar, ashengrotto, al asim, schoenheit, shroud, draconia

cont. gender neutral reader, use of 'mada' which is just 'mama' and 'dada' cut in half for our resident shrimp (aka yuu), a yummy 5.8k words that I did not expect to get this long lol

note. I only have a rough outline of what's going to be included with the others parts after the names of the kids lol. I'll probably write leona's as usual after this but I can't promise I'll release one more part after his this month, the rest will probably come next month considering I'm bombarded sadge. paper defense, then final exams next month save me

also hello! my unnofficial: I'll try to post more

late edit: comment if you want to get tagged <3

riddle

when you slid a foot over the portal to heartslabyul there’s some sort of a strange–inexplicable air that surrounds it. usually the dimension is light to be in, unlike the tingling feelings of being in octavinelle or the eeriness of ignihyde. all dormitories had their own particular sensation that weighs on you depending on where you were.

you squinted, deciding to shrug it off. there was no way you had a sixth sense for feeling in the literal air!

barely a foot in though, was something you could only explain as an army of card… soldiers trudging from the other end of the sidewalk to the next. dumbly, you stopped right in front the shimmering portal that settles into a smooth sheen of silver behind you as they just kept coming.

they seemed to be looking for something–or whatever but you don’t really want to know what so you slowly inched to the side, hoping to sneak past them even if you had to go into one of the confusing mazes (which was a struggle considering you’re trying not to laugh as one of them trips).

must be ace’s wretchedness rubbing off of you.

the real question was, where in the seven were your resident idiots? you’d already sent a text over for your impromptu visit to the chat consisting of you three and figured they had seen it like they usually do then waited for you with feigned begrudging-ness that does not fit well with them showing up in the first place. 

you fish for your sad excuse for a phone in your pocket, cater’s words not yours. you’re more busy trying to merge your backside as you shuffle and pull up the chat to notice the ever nearing edge of the hedge wall that makes you stand out in comparison to the lighter shade of green brushing against your uniform.

not deuce: you guys ever notice the card soldiers infestation near ur mirror portal…?

not ace: you nedea to RNR RUN RN!!

not yuu: what???

there’s not much time to ponder about the cryptic, seemingly panicked expression of deuce’s message as you looked up from your phone, feeling a slight chill crawl up to your spine like you attracted some sort of unwarranted trouble that is also unwanted.

disclaimer: you (uu) did

“over here!” an unfamiliar voice yells, freezing you in your tracks just when you were about to make the sneak of the century. without a moment’s hesitation you darted deeper into the maze and shoved your device within the confines of your pockets as you held in a mortified scream at the sudden mob upon your tail as you ran.

WHY WAS THERE SO MANY? you yelled in your mind. number one rule in horror games don’t look back. don’t look back. don’t look back–

oh sevens you’re looking back.

the decision immediately fills you with regret when you spot the diabolical amount of card soldiers trailing after you like you just slaughtered their queen in front of whatever kingdom they came from! was this someone’s unique magic? there was no way riddle would let this sort of thing go rampant on his dorm!

you almost keel over in shock when the pointy end of a heart on the end of a pole sticks right on the patch of grass you just barely managed to trudge across with increasingly heavier steps. maybe you should actually take jack’s offer to join track and field–your stamina is horrible–you’re gonna get stabbed.

goodbye world. you thought warmly with a chorus of pants.

a deeper voice bellowed from the crowd from your behind. “three of hearts! are you thin-headed? do not harm the majesty!” the steps behind you stop almost abruptly, and you don’t stop running even as the voices fade. idiots for choosing to chastise their idiotic comrade but you’re not complaining as long as you get away from this horrid situation.

your majesty what now?

you don’t know how far you ran by sticking to all left turns until you flop down on the entrance of the maze, the archway barely offering you any relief as you took deep breaths and fought the urge to lay down on the grass and hope it camouflages your grey uniform.

that won’t work but you’re coping at this point.

not deuce: HELLO  I ALMOST GOT SKEWERED BY LITERAL CARDS?

not yuu: that’s a humiliating way to go down from

not ace: don’t be insensitive ace! are you ok?!

not deuce: NO? WHAT IS GOING ON

not yuu: riddle got dethroned and i'm not even happy

not yuu: it's the absolute WORST AT THE DORM!

not yuu: you better turn back rn and get away from ‘labyul coz it’s getting run by a kid

not deuce: BACK INTO THAT DEATH MOB? no thanks

not ace: yuu brace up, cater texted that the new boss is on his way to you

not yuu: F for yuu

not ace: F

not deuce: F u

what you expect to be the final boss of your life, you guess from the approaching pairs of footsteps nearing your defeated form sprawled across the flecks of grass and still heaving comes in a surprising form of softness, and youth.

“mada.” 

the blueness of the sky is shadowed by a tiny little head peering over your head. you’re startled by the tuff of red hair, and familiar pair of eyes which was strange, considering you have never seen this kid in your life. this was the new queen of heartlsabyul? you thought incredulously, since when were kids allowed in nrc…?

the thought was a breeding ground to raise the most evil person on the planet, considering the equally as evil people in night raven.

out of habit from the familiar chubby, round face you blurted: “riddle?”

the child blinked before they shook your head. “I am not papa.” their lips twitched into a small smile directed to you. if taken a closure look, this child’s resemblance with riddle really is uncanny. from the hair, even to a small golden crown sitting primly on the middle of their head. “mada, I am glad I found you. I have not seen papa yet.”

was this season 5 of stranger things?

they straightened. attention straying from you as you glanced to the other pairs of legs, whom you put a face to quickly. trey and cater both cast you a look of exasperation and pity.

then done like a true riddle–their face does a complete 360 and curls into anger as they stared off inside the maze. “all of you!” the tiny child rages with a concerning… change of color around their cute face, fingers pointed accusingly. how can a child be so horrifyingly scary?

the two third years do not mirror your confusion as you sat up, following the kid’s gaze to the archway where a myriad of thundering footsteps almost have you scampering away if not for them laying a small hand on your shoulder and somehow managing to ground you to stay still.

whose kid is this? you looked to cater who shakes his head uselessly

then to trey who wore a resigned smile.

the child’s brow twitches when the card soldiers lined up obediently. “I thought I had made it clear you not hurt mada.” they seethed, voice tilting in clear threat and a I demand you! sort of way. the card solider, three of hearts who had scared the living soul out of you trembled less subtle compared to the other guards.

of course this child had to get more terrifying by being observant, they caught the shiver of one soldier and narrowed their eyes. “ah, found the culprit. three of–”

trey shuffles forward with an awkward laugh that belies his usual laid back with–on his face is a twinge of concern as he raises his palms in a placating gesture. he steps forward three more times, sliding between the child and the line of soldiers but keeping the distance warily. “hey, kid. maybe we can discuss this with some tarts, and some tea?” he tries. children love sweets, right?

they keep their head level despite the astounding height difference. “I told you, uncle trey! being called ‘kid’ is disorderly! It's alice!” still, despite the brief protest their eyes sparkled with interest at the notion, even if they seemed a bit embarrassed to admit it. “i’m not supposed to eat sweets on mondays.” 

“huh.” cater mumbled before the thin line of his lips rose into a familiar grin. “as in, rule 102 of the queen?” he queries with a nervous slide of his fingers through his hair. he’s not so obvious to directly state that he’s tiptoeing around… alice but a bit of months knowing him, you can tell.

alice nods along. they no longer look as bothered as before, the card soldiers all slump their tense shoulders a little when alice shifts their piercing gaze from the three of hearts before settling onto cater, who they offer a brief nod of agreement before returning back to trey.

well, a kid is a kid. 

“but i can eat sweets on tuesdays.” they added hastily. like they don’t want the notion of trey’s treats slipping from their fingers but that would be strange, if the look of confusion you three share with each other you would have thought trey had initially baked for alice based off the tone of wistfulness in their tone.

trey smiles at them. “tomorrow it is.” reassured by their sheepish innocence he stops in front of them and grasps their shoulders, turning them away from the stiff soldiers. alice spares a brief glance at them. “what about these rule breakers?”

you stood up fully. “uh, don’t worry, they didn’t do anything wrong. i ran for too long.” you supplied in defense. if anything , a resemblance to riddle of all people meant that they could have the head offing in their blood. you did not want to stick around to find out, neither did cater.

alice considers you for a moment with a small sparkle in their eyes, with a wave of the small wand that maternalized in their hand, the soldiers fade into glittering spots of gold. only then do they let trey lead them back to the main pathway towards the dormitory of heartslabyul.

you fall into step behind cater who probably sees the question in your eyes so he lowers his voice discreetly, glancing at the back of trey who keeps the child’s bay attention so they don’t notice you two slowing down a little. nonetheless, still walking.

“that was little alice’s unique magic.” he says to you with a shrug, sighing after a glance at the former’s small, regal form. “pretty overpowered… kind of like my split card but less cute, and more dangerous.”

he winked, you frowned.

in front of you two, alice seems tame in comparison to the subtle bribing of trey questioning about their favorite sweets as you all finally reached the nearing entrance of the main dormitory

“where’s riddle?” you questioned.

he pursed his lips, navigating though the fountain in front of the dorm. “last i know, he went out early to campus cause of a meeting with his club for the upcoming NRC tour festival…” 

oh, right. I have not found papa. alice’s voice echoes in your mind, so you echo the question that appears in your mind right after the memory. “alice called riddle ‘papa’ which i’m pretty sure is a term for a parent…” you trailed off. riddle seemed to be the least likely person to have a secret love child of some sorts, he seemed like he had most of his life planned out.

if riddle bent over backwards for his rules then he wouldn’t stray from the path he had set.

there’s a flash of interest in cater’s eyes, it was already there before, just dwindled. you watch it spark to life. akin to lighting some sort of fire within the guy, a gossipmonger at heart as he leaned in eagerly just as you both trudged up the stairs to the front doors who opened politely, and closed behind you as you walked in the main hall of heartslabyul.

“they look, and act like riddle!” he chuckles. “imagine our shock when alice popped up straight out of nowhere with an army at their beck and call.” cater clutched onto his arms, and shivered. you leaned away when he reaches his arms out to you in a teasing manner.

he adds. not at all offended by the way you scrunch your face at his ‘affections’. “they seem to listen to you though. like someone.”

you only regard him with an impassive raise of your brows. “i don't think so. riddle doesn’t listen to anyone. much less me.” befuddled by the mere idea, you scoffed. in all your magic-less glory, the best thing you might have achieved here in this other dimension was having the ability to wake leona kingscholar up from one of his power naps.

cater doesn’t seem to agree. only sighing at you from what it seems to be an of course. “only you can be so oblivious to the chaos you leave behind.” he says in response, making an exaggerated show of peering behind your shoulder and widening his eyes in feigned shock.

you humor him as you turned your head. the scene of the main entrance of the dormitory was the only answer to your eyes as you both walked into the living room–where little alice sits alone. you caught a glimpse of trey’s dark hair as he disappeared into the kitchen, most likely going off to make her a treat.

vaguely unsure if the male had heard him, cater calls out a “make us some too!”

“not my fault the students here are so… unstable.” you remarked with a roll of your eyes. remembering the overblots to be the most plausible reference to the chaos cater was talking about as you begrudgingly sat down on the couch and reeled in any other remarks for the child in the room.

who was now shuffling closer to your seated frame even if they thought they were being subtle in the movement.

what was two seats in the space between you and alice eventually became none at all, as they settled beside you and peered up with innocent eyes.

you tilted your head at them, alice copies the movement.

then to the other side.

they mirror the lull of your head.

“besides those.” cater cleared his throat after a bewildered glance at the child. “what’s more impressive is that you’re still here, yuu-yuu. night raven is like… a pack of wolves trying to run you off crying, and you? you’re a very weird sheep.”

still a bit enraptured on this child, you replied without your stare wavering from the roundness of alice’s cheek as you reached up to pinch it. to yours, and cater’s surprise. their previous cute ferociousness is not present at all as they leaned against the warmth as though instinctive. “i didn’t do anything.”

you don’t entertain the accusing look in cater’s eyes.

“if that was you not trying to beast tame the school then i don’t know what’ll happen if you put in the effort.”

you both lapse into silence as cater–who seemed to sense the finality of the conversation lets it slip fully and instead, busies himself with the entertainments his phone provided. you redirect your full attention onto the elusive red-headed alice.

“so,” you started. “how did you end up here? must be a great feat if you were able to go past the barriers.”

alice curls their fingers within the fabric of your blazer, inspecting it as they reply softly. “i’m not sure, mada. i was just sleeping, and woke up in a garden. the hedgehogs showed me the way after i offered them a caterpillar.” they do not mention a bleary moment in their sleep where they curiously wondered how you and riddle came to be as they drifted off. “as pertaining by rule 210… if you are lost in a maze, give the hedgehogs an offering and they shall show you the way.”

you can’t help but let your mind drift over to riddle, who echoes the rules to be followed when mentioned.

your lips twitch into a smile, much to the delight of alice. “strange indeed. must have been scary.”

their eyes squinted. “i’m not scared.”

you chuckled and pinched their cheek. they pout.

“where are you from?” you ask instead, wanting to know more about the.. figurative alice from nowhere. 

alice looks at you strangely.

“from the queendom of roses…” could they simply be a relative of riddle’s? you thought mindlessly. drawing your fingers through the surprising soft red locks who seemingly part eagerly for your touch. “with my mada, and my papa. sometimes my uncles visit.”

unsure of how to reply, you merely nod along. parting their hair by half and twisting it into a braid. “you called me mada.” you hummed.

“because you are my mada.”

she says like it’s the only thing that makes sense in her small world, not relinquishing her grip on your blazer but instead tugging at the wrists to expose the small slither of skin and hold onto it. clingy. you thought, deciding not to question it.

… was this your freaking kid?

the smell of strawberries wafts over the space of the living room alongside the ticking of the oven–momentarily taking both alice, and cater’s attention. the latter stretches before standing to stride over to the source of the smell, no doubt requesting trey to change the taste once more.

alice’s eyes, like yours slid to your own. a bit shy in their demeanor as they clutched onto the skin of your wrist. “can i eat some of uncle’s tarts?” they queried under your breath, only meant for you alone. you felt a bit confused but nodded nonetheless. 

their lips twitched into an eager smile before it settles into a more controlled look of impassiveness.

that was adorable. you thought, unable to resist leaning down to scoop them into your arms as you stood. alice makes a sound of brief surprise before their arms loop around your neck. they sat pliantly still as you walked over to follow cater inside the kitchen, catching a glimpse of your scent that they sought for, so alice nuzzles their face into the warm pulse on your neck.

trey glances up from the animated retelling of cater about the crazy day. “new responsibility?” he wore a humored smile, apron long discarded and folded over the handle of the oven for the meantime.

if riddle saw this, he would not believe it no matter how intelligent he was. trey deduced.

he gestures to the tray set on the counter. “there’s frosted strawberries, blueberry cornmeal, and the good old mont blanc since i got left over ingredients from the last unbirthday party.” 

alice feels the shift of your head as you glanced down at them, they don’t remove their head from the crevice of your neck for a moment and meets your eyes with a raise of their own. “frosted strawberries, please.”

“good choice, little alice.” cater comments.

“careful, it’s hot.” trey chided gently as he watched you pick up one of them, drawing it near alice’s waiting hunger as they tilted their head up from your shoulder. they took a small bite at the corners of the tart, smiling at the taste and only wider when you wiped remnants of crumbs around the edges of their mouth.

alice chews, and swallows before they spoke again. their eyes gleaming with admiration as they stared at trey. “it’s always the yummiest when it’s fresh out the oven.” they recited.

trey blinks.

“you’re a bright one.” he remarked, ruffling their hair when he drew near. “don’t tell anyone about the wicked secret ‘round the kitchen, all right?”

they nodded vigorously. “thank you, uncle..” they spewed politely, but evidently genuine.

cater munches from the other end of the counter. “we gotta protect alice,” he chuckled, eyes crinkling as he pointed his phone to you, tapping to snap a picture of the scene despite your warning stare. “too nice for the vultures we call students here.” 

“you might be right.” trey shook his head, and you nodded mutely. more absorbed into letting them take bite by bite into the tart until it was about finished halfway. only then do you lay it back on the tray. how much sweets was ideal for a child to take anyway? regardless of you deeming it as enough, alice stays quiet and does not complain.

if they wanted more, you wouldn’t know.

“later.” you promised, leaning back when you were satisfied with their prim appearance. a pat of their hair to smooth down trey’s earlier disruption.

“later..” alice echoed. 

a resident third year enters the kitchen. only to pause in their tracks and back away.

“domesticity is really the enemy of the students here.” cater sniffed, earning a chuckle from trey who found the comment funny. “imagine being happy, being broody and emotional are the real requirements to get admitted.”

cater finishes his snack with a pleased hum, and a grateful nod to trey. “by the way i messaged adeuce, sent them to stall dorm leader from going back as long as the dorm was… kind of in a wre–predicament.” he cleared his throat, casting a brief glance at alice to spot if they had taken offence to his almost uttered word.

“so now they’re en-route?” trey guessed, transferring the leftover tarts to a glass bowl. leaving the tray in the sink to wash for later. cater nods in response, typing on his phone with one hand. likely in cahoots with the two right now. “told them the coast was clear! no more trampling soldiers scampering around.”

trey eyed him. “what about the–”

just then, whatever trey was going to comment in rebuttal of cater’s easy reassurance was promptly interrupted by new individuals peeking inside. ace, and deuce poked their heads from the corner. as if trying to ascertain the danger level of whatever may be inside.

ace rougly nudges deuce when he spots you with a child in arms. for two people insisting on their unique, varying selfs. they mirror each other’s look of bewilderment as though their brain cells crackled and connected into a singular one. “what the seven?” ace mouthed.

you all do not notice the look of familiarity on alice’s face.

nor the brightening when riddle strides in with a petulant huff,

if riddle thought strangely, or disapproved of the two’s behavior then he wouldn’t have had the chance to comment on it before he was leveling trey with a sharp, inquisitive stare. “i would like a very good explanation as to why my hedges have been mangled to the ground.” his eye twitches with the effort of containing irritation. “three hours i’ve been gone. three! and when i enter heartslabyul the first thing i see is devastation upon my gardens!”

perhaps emotionally, riddle cried out in the last sentence.

even though such an expression should have frightened a child to some degree, alice relaxes in your arms but their face clouds in shame at his voice.

riddle whirls back to the other two lingering by the doorway who both flinches imperceptibly–cater tries to intercept with a nervous chuckle but is only met with a steely don’t even start! “ace, and deuce have me running around the school. saying something about yuu getting kidnapped by those.. vermin excuses of… students from octavinelle!" riddle seethed, breathing still a bit labored as favor of his statement about running around.

“dorm leader!” ace stood straight stiffly.

oh, did he just come from a frantic search in octavinelle?

“i even had to threaten collaring azul who i thought was lying about yuu.” with a deep intake of air, riddle breathes out and pinches the bridge of his nose, collecting his temper. much to the chagrin of deuce.

“we apologize.” deuce added sadly.

cater feigns ignorance by looking away but it’s trey’s look that has him adding to the defense of the two, rather than using the opportunity to scamper away with his head in tact. “ahem… we had these two keep you busy. so don’t be too harsh on them, riddle. us upperclassmen will take responsibility.”

a nod of agreement from trey gets riddle quiet.

the former tilts his chin to you. “yuu is fine, they’re right here.”

like he hadn’t even noticed before (he really didn’t), riddle’s head snaps to you immediately. his eyes would have been stuck to you, prodding for a valid explanation to your ignorance to his angry calls but instead, settles on the bundle in your arms.

“who…” a blink. “why in the world do you have a child! they are not welcome on school grounds! especially this time in the school year–.” riddle sputtered, instinctively sauntering over to take a closer look at alice who only stared without an inch of fear.

“papa.” they mumbled, voice measured but still echoing in the now quiet kitchen.

ace leapt up to your side. “that’s not right!” he gasped, squinting dangerously at riddle. any traces of earlier mortification gave way to whatever emotion he’s got on his face. “how could you sully yuu! they’re not a babysitter for your kid!” 

“what?” riddle seethed, head flicking from ace, to you, then to alice.

despite a look of great reluctance, deuce nods from the doorway still. mumbling to himself. “dorm… dorm leader has a child…”

you vaguely remember trey offering the dazed guy a glass of water.

“unconfirmed earlier, confirmed now.” cater adds unhelpfully to the blazing fire of riddle’s rising anger.

riddle’s teeth grind together, jaw clenching as his fingers tightened into a fist. it was more of one his attempts at calming down rather than preparation for a physical alteration. “I did no such–!”

“don’t be mad at mada.” alice reaches for him, tugging at his blazer which surprisingly, quells the reddening of his face. now, he just looks a bit confused.

alice turns their head slightly. “mada, you can calm down papa.”

deuce paused before dropping to the ground.

“AH! he’s dead. this is why you don’t betray us by keeping secrets, yuu!” 

“uh oh… trey help me with deuce… wait, should we just leave him? i mean, he’ll be just fine here, right?”

“... just take the other arm, cater.”

all the way back to the living room, riddle’s face remained tinged with warmth. alice, while reluctant to part with your embrace, seemed wholly pleased to stay by the other red-heads' side. insisting you sit next to him when you moved to sit by your two friends.

you obliged them despite riddle’s interest with the carpet.

the couch dipped at the weight of another. even so, the non-verbal conversation between alice, and riddle continued. the former pressed their lips together thinly, seemingly assessing the… youthfulness of the latter. they aren’t so used to this kind of look from him.

cater flinched, and look away from the flash of his phone. he elbows a dazed deuce.

“so,” ace cleared his throat, blinking his still wide eyes. “who the heck is this kid?!”

“language.” riddle chided sharply. though softened from its usual end even he isn’t so sure why it is from the mere presence of alice alone. 

“rule 13, always present yourself with appropriate language.”

“always present yourself with appropriate language.” alice repeated.

riddle squinted at a relaxed alice, who tilts their head as if to ask ‘what?’.

“genetics is crazy. what’s next, the kid beheads us too?” ace points between the two. 

alice shrugged. “only if you break the rules.”

“i do not have a child!” riddle protested.

“i am your child.” replied alice.

“apparently this one’s our kid.” you agreed begrudgingly.

riddle stares at you with a mixture of disbelief, and confusion.

darting between you and the kid like they're gonna start collating him in all his glory! sure, alice had red hair like him but quite a lot of people in the island have it too besides his relatives. the idea of… of him and you is just so out of this world that he can't wrap his head around it.

you? you who he hadn't paid attention to when you arrived at the ceremony? the very first person in that event that broke the rules? you, the very fading into the background student whom he believed to be a bad influence to his students ace, and deuce? 

you he had almost hurt beyond repair at the bursting of his control so tightly held in his hands?

the brief skip of his heart when your eyes meet over the head of alice is enough to send blood rushing to his head, coloring it with his signature red whose warmth doesn't feel like the usual simmering anger he struggles to keep submerged. if anything, this feeling is practically leaping out the water and baring his face to everyone. 

riddle does not look away. managing a look of what he tries to name as conviction but easily crumbles to fluster.

then the idea wasn't so bad considering this young child has proved to be raised dutifully, correctly without any worries of what he used to be burdened with as a child.

it gives way to curiosity. 

despite his incredulously, riddle queries. “the gardens.” he starts with a measured narrow to his eyes, not too intense to possibly upset this.. future child of his whose eyes are strikingly familiar enough to halt the normal circulation of his heart once more for half a second. “were you responsible for the destruction of some hedges I've come across?”

alice shrinks into themselves. “i'm sorry papa.” they pursed their lips, voice genuine by the lower tilt. “i thought i could use my card soldiers to look for you, and mada. you told me about this place called heartslabyul before?”

“i have?” riddle blinks. the idea isn't too bizarre, it's only natural to think back on such things.

they nodded. “yes, papa. you talk about it a lot on our friday’s. about how it looked, how you were as it's dorm leader…” alice peeks a glance at you. “and your parties with mada.”

“unbirthday parties.” trey corrects. “sometimes birthday parties if it really is someone's birthday.”

ace perks up. “let me tell you then! from first hand experience!” he blanched. like opening light about his own struggles in heartlsabyul magically meant the truth to riddle’s own kid. “labyul is really strict on rules. you know on my first day, I ate a tart and—”

deuce stirred slightly.

at riddle’s glare, ace visibly wilts to which cater snaps a picture with snickers. “I mean… the tart was really good, made by riddle and all…” he sweatdropped.

“you shouldn't eat a tart that is not made by you.” alice replied thoughtfully. riddle can't resist a light smile at her words, feeling a sense of accomplishment as he nodded along. his hand hovers for a moment before it pats down on their hair. “that's right. I must have taught you well.”

you absentmindedly patted their head, taking turns with riddle to do so while  expertly avoiding his gaze. “you said friday though, why?”

“on friday’s we don’t go out.” alice says.

“that isn’t a rule by the queen of hearts.” riddle points out.

“you made that rule papa.” they replied innocently. “in our home, so we get to spend time together as a family.”

silence reigns.

“wow.” you cough. sparing riddle an approving glance. that… sounded nice… domestic, and nice. you supposed even as an adult riddle would still have some sort of grip on rules, considering he grew up with them, it helped him live.

and now rules he shaped helped him live with alice, and you apparently. 

tick.

tock.

tick.

tock.

alice peers down at the watch they pull out from under their little adorable coat, oblivious to the stunned silence they left behind. hesitantly, they place a hand on your knee, legs swinging as they rest the other on riddle’s. “mada.” they smiled, this time widely. “papa. I gotta go.”

“what?” riddle's eyes widened. “you haven't finished your tart yet.”

“it's okay. I already ate a tart earlier, papa.”

“you can eat another, just this time. if you want.” he insisted, strangely worried.

cater raises his hand. “can I?”

riddle disagrees immediately. “no.”

muttering something about favoritism, cater looked away with a long sigh.

riddle's eyes lingered on the roundness of alice's face. from the shape, to the more detailed parts of their features. eyes, your eyes. the lushness of their hair, the soft curve of their lips tilted with innocence sends an unexpected grip in his heart, like it's heart stopping.

gosh. his heart just stopped. would he really have his own alice? his eyes darted to you. with you?

alice huffed lightly, skin glimmering lightly as their shade slowly grew transculent and faded with each blink of your eyes. “I can always eat papa's tarts. they're so delicious.” 

“don't use too much magic.” riddle scolded with a crease in his brows.

you add. “don't anger riddle too much.”

“please eat his tarts.” ace encouraged.

trey shot him a look. “don't teach alice bad things.” he sighed, glancing at said child with a smile. “I'll teach you how to make your own tarts, ask uh… future me?”

cater, not wanting to be outdone quickly perked up. “as a future magicam star, I'll make you one too. little alice!” he added, self assured of his future fame.

when it all settles, all that remains is a space between you and riddle that feels too little than vast. and a remainder of your future.

“atleast we know what name we'll choose.” you can't resist but tease. riddle does not blow up like you would have thought from your remark, only sparing you a look of feigned annoyance with warming ears that doesn't support the idea of his irritation.

he resigns to a small nod. “I am assured they are taught well.”

ace glances between you, and riddle. “I miss alice already. riddle seemed a lot more lenient with them around. you think they got embarrassing stories from the future?” he comments off-handedly, leaning back against the couch and blowing on the fringe over his forehead. “when are you guys gonna make an alice? please make one now.”

cater whistles out of there.

trey shakes his head.

deuce–still passed out is thankfully considered by trey, who dragged his limp body with a nod of goodluck to ace.

you waved at ace. F indeed.

wait! don't leave me, upperclassman! ace cried in his mind, feeling the panic splinter his state of mind.

“ACE!” riddle gritted his teeth. “i'll hand down my sentence, the verdict comes afterwards–”

ace paled.

“off with your head–!”

trivia

alice’s name is very much inspired by alice from the one and only: “alice in wonderland”.

their unique magic is called: under my decree which is simply being able to summon card soldiers, and command them at their will! (in this case, after being sent to a maze and finding their way out thanks to the hedgehog. alice was able to discern that this was heartlsabyul, and figured they might be able to find their parents here, hence, why they used their magic.)

alice is written to be a well-behaved 8 year old.

the watch is a nod to my previous commissioned work who also dealt with the concept of time travelling and related to going back (ha, ha).

alice woke up by the sound of a clock ticking, and knew that hearing it again meant that their time was up.

the entire thing happened due to alice helping untangle a fae who happened to get stuck in their gardens at the backyard while they were looking for a hedgehog that had not yet eaten (spoiler: hedgehog was hiding in a small crack under the tree) the same fae visited them at night whilst sleeping and granted them a dream of whatever they wanted to wish. alice, feeling swayed by the magic despite being not aware made a wish to fulfill it.

boom! baby rosehearts in your faces!

alice woke up and immediately said young riddle was funnily shy to yuu. much to the confusion of actual current riddle!

their favorite tart is: anything with strawberries, like riddle.

rule 13, and rule 102 are entirely fictional and made up by me… for plot purposes…

not deuce = is actually yuu

not yuu = is actually ace

not ace = is actually deuce

deuce been sleeping for the entire time lol.

ace got roped into fixing the gardens with the collar on  #thatswhatyouget

riddle invites you to study for the nearing quiz season the following day.

[aayakashii]

After a long time, I offer you the sequel to this fic here 🤲

Warnings: *BANGING POTS AND PANS* KUUYA IS A SUBMISSIVE PATHETIC LOSER YANDERE IF YOU DON'T LIKE MALE SUBS YOU MIGHT NOT LIKE THIS!!!! Also: NSFW and yandere themes from Kuuya and the reader; reader is gender neutral and AFAB; 9k words 💀

Kuuya is a @devotion-disorder OC and they gave me permission to write more abt their sad and wet cat <3 I hope you like it!!! The art below is theirs as well!

♡ cannibalism as a metaphor for love ♡

The clock ticked a little bit past 6PM. You frowned as you watched the last rays of sun fade away in the sky, thinking about your house – how you could be wearing your comfortable pajamas, making some greasy popcorn while you watched a bad horror movie.

Instead, all that you had was that non-ergonomic chair, a coffee that had already gone cold and bitter and the glaring blue light of your computer burning your retinas.

You were working overtime.

It’s not a new concept for you per se, not in a black corporation such as the one you worked for. It’s just that on that specific day, it felt like everyone had left the building but you. Every cubicle was empty and the room was incredibly dim – it was anxiety inducing. You turned on as many lights as you could and put some background music to feel less isolated, but the setting simply didn’t help. You were locked in that little dystopian bubble all on your own and no amount of piled up work could make you concentrate properly when it felt like you were in purgatory.

Outside, a loud thunder made the window panes vibrate and you sighed.

“Fuck this” you murmured, getting up. You’d at least make some more coffee. Would you feel even more anxious? Yes. But you needed something to distract yourself with and brewing a new, actually sweetened pot of coffee would have to do.

You briskly walked towards the break room, trying to avoid thinking about the oppressing darkness that surrounded you, staring at your feet. However, you soon slowed down – the door to the office kitchen was closed, and you could see the light was on from the crack under the door. 

Common sense would allow you to come to the conclusion that probably someone else was in the building with you, after all. 

But in that moment, all that blared in your mind were the sirens of dread. Your mind went from thinking that a serial killer was hiding in the pantry to imagining a deadly monster coming to whisk you away before you ever thought about some other colleague being in the building with you.

You crossed your fingers hoping it was just the (possibly hot) monster from another dimension coming to kidnap you and slowly opened the door, ready to run if needed.

Instead, you were met with the curved back and the mop of messy lilac hair of someone you knew oh too well.

“Kuuya?” you called, quietly.

“AH!” he flinched, crinkling the plastic cup he had in his hand and spinning around to look at you. The water he was pouring in his cup splashed on his button up shirt and he looked like a deer caught in headlights.

You raised your hands up, like you would do to a feral animal to show you mean no harm.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to spook you. I didn’t know there was someone else here. I thought I was alone.” you said, entering the room and feeling a little bit relieved to see another sign of life in that somber building.

Even if it was from your cute and creepy little stalker.

Kuuya hurriedly grabbed a napkin and began dabbing at his shirt, nodding silently and avoiding your eyes.

You sighed loudly as you began rummaging the kitchen’s cabinets for all the supplies you needed.

As much as you allowed yourself to indulge in your sick fantasies when it came to him, most of the time Kuuya just frustrated you. You wondered if he would ever try to talk to you. Hell, would he ever even look at you in your eyes for more than a second? It was maddening.

You knew he was far from innocent, no matter how reserved he acted around you. Didn't he literally follow you to your home just to jerk off in the bushes by your window? Where is all that courage when you're right next to him?

You wouldn't mind actually taking the initiative, but most of the time you honestly felt like you were crazy. Maybe you were so horny for that sad wet cat that you were hallucinating. 

Maybe he never went to your house and it was just the wishful thinking of your deeply, deeply perverted mind.

Maybe he actually wanted to run away from you whenever you were around, but you were just too insane so you kept imagining him fisting his cock just because you breathed near him.

Although they do say that insane people never think they're insane.

God! If only he gave you A DIRECT SIGN! A green light! Something that would let you know you can take charge!

No matter how adorable his bashfulness was, he still made you feel like you were kicking a baby animal whenever you addressed him directly. And honestly, that didn't really help his case.

“Are you… okay?” his quiet voice snapped you out of your thoughts and you noticed how you were crouching and staring at a dead empty cabinet for way longer than necessary. You closed the door and got up quickly, clearing your throat.

“We’re out of coffee.” you said, pulling your phone out of your pocket. “I'm gonna order something to eat. Is there anything you want?”

Kuuya was one step away from being malnourished, you noticed. You wouldn't mind putting some food inside that scrawny body.

“Um… No, it’s not necessary… I don’t really have… um… money…”

You waved your hand dismissively as you scrolled through a delivery app.

“That doesn’t matter. I’m paying.”

Kuuya shook his head frantically while waving his hands.

“N-no, I can’t accept that!”

You side-eyed him and he visibly flinched under your glare.

“Even if you don’t tell me what you want to eat, I’m gonna order something for us. We are quite literally stranded here, I’m not going to let you go hungry.” you shrugged.

He fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. God, he was so cute. Why did he act like you would straight up kill him if he said something wrong, though? Were you that intimidating? Well, not intimidating enough to keep him from masturbating right by your bedroom and stealing your stuff, apparently.

“Also” you continued “It’s going to rain soon, apparently. I don't want to make some delivery guy go out in the rain to deliver us food once we’re actually hungry, so I'll just do it now.”

Kuuya opened and closed his mouth, as if he wanted to say something, but nothing would come out. He looked like a little fish, you thought, as you waited for him to say something. When he didn’t after a whole minute, you just shrugged.

“Is chicken sandwich and fries okay with you?”

He nodded, hesitant yet still licking his lips unconsciously at the thought of some good actual food. You figured he was probably very hungry. In fact, you could picture it very clearly: Kuuya getting home and just eating the least nutritious instant noodles in the world, day after day. No wonder he looked so tired all the time. He was probably running low on fuel for way too long.

“Okay. So I’m gonna order those, and also some coffee and cookies. If I'm gonna stay here and be tortured by all the work I gotta do, I wanna at least have something tasty to console me.” you mumbled, more to yourself than anyone else.

And as you placed the order, you ended up missing the little lovestruck smile that quickly appeared on Kuuya’s face.

You had gone back to your cubicle while you waited for your order. Knowing you weren't completely alone calmed your nerves and you managed to work properly for the time it took for your food to arrive.

Once you had all the bags in your hands, you walked back to the kitchen and the door was open just like you had left it. Kuuya was still there, sitting at the table, nursing a tepid cup of water.

“You didn't go back to your work station ?” you said, putting the multiple bags of food on the table, earning a startled yelp from him again. You raised an eyebrow and huffed out a laugh. “You're more skittish than I am.”

He pursed his lips into a thin line, avoiding your eyes.

“S-sorry…”

You shook your head.

“There's no reason to apologize. Here, the food arrived. Let's eat?”

He nodded, hurriedly getting up to help you set up plates and cups down, wobbling a little bit like he had to consciously think about how to walk properly.

You looked at him through the corner of your eye while he washed a few dishes. 

Kuuya always seemed like he was in distress. His shoulders looked tense like a violin string and there was always a little crease on his forehead. His eyebrows were almost always scrunched and raised up, giving him that kicked puppy look to his face that you found so endearing. It made you want to hold him in your arms and massage those little shoulders until they were soft under your fingers, and kiss those worry lines until he relaxed, even if just for a little while.

You clenched and unclenched your fingers, quickly busying yourself with putting the now clean plates on the table, otherwise you'd jump at him as soon as he looked at you with those pink doe eyes that you so deeply wished you could stare at for hours on end.

If only he wasn't so easily frightened.

Soon enough, everything was set on the table, ready for you to eat.

“Alright” you sat down and motioned vaguely towards the food “Dig in! Don’t be shy.”

Kuuya slowly sat down, eyeing the sandwiches like he had never seen food before in his life. Still, he kept his hands to himself and fidgeted on his chair.

“Is something wrong?”

“I- I feel like I should be paying for this. I promise I'll repay you once I get my next paycheck.” he mumbled, looking extremely embarrassed.

You tutted, shaking your head.

“Nonsense. You don't have to pay for anything. Now eat. It'll make me glad if you eat properly. That's how you can pay me back.”

He pouted for a moment, considering your words, then hesitantly grabbed the sandwich, giving it a nibble. His face lit up at the taste of the sandwich and his inhibitions then seemed to go down a little. He took a bigger bite, chewing happily. His chin was slightly smeared with sauce and you smiled.

So fucking cute.

As you ate, you noticed how he kept on shaking and nodding his head in order to move the long lilac bang that covered his right eye away from his mouth. After a few more moments just watching him struggle, you got up from your seat.

“Here, let me help you.” You reached inside your pockets and showed him a hair clip you always kept at hand. You reached out for his bangs, hovering your hand over his hair as if to ask for permission to put the clip on him.

He unceremoniously slapped his hands over his bangs and right eye, hard.

“N-no!” He yelled, sounding terrified.

You jumped, surprised at his uncharacteristic reaction, and raised your arms again, the second time that day.

“Okay, okay. Sorry, I won't touch it. You can put it on your hair if you'd like it, then. No pressure” you said, still offering the hair clip.

He slowly moved his hands away from his eye, shaking as he grabbed the clip from your palm. 

“O-okay…thank you and… sorry…” he mumbled, gripping the clip tightly inside his fist.

“It's no problem. Just… please pin it in a way that will keep your hair from touching your food” you grimaced “That's not really hygienic.”

He clumsily pinned his hair to his scalp, the bangs still completely covering his right eye, but somehow precariously pinned right over his ear. You gave him a nod of approval.

“I guess that's good enough.”

You two continued eating, a painfully awkward silence looming in the atmosphere, as the heavy rain that had threatened to fall all night finally pattered against the windows.

You figured you wouldn't try to break that silence, despite how uncomfortable it was. It was time for him to try and communicate with you too, and if he didnt, well. You wouldn't spread yourself thin just to receive a few nods and indiscernible  mumbles, no matter how adorable he was whenever he was flustered.

Kuuya politely thanked you for the food as he finished eating, right at the same time as you. He pushed his chair, the grating sound against the floor making the both of you flinch. He straightened himself up, as much as his hunched back would allow him to, and cleared his throat.

“I, uh. I have to go to the bathroom. I'll- I'll clean everything up, so you can leave it there. I'll be right- I'll be right back.” He stuttered, eyes flitting everywhere around the corners of the kitchen, except to you. He was tightly grabbing his elbow with his other hand, until he visibly relaxed when you nodded at his words, like he needed your permission, and scrambled out of the room.

You waited a minute or two after he left, before getting up and quickly walking towards the men's bathroom as well.

Yeah, right. Sure. Bathroom.

You might not have known Kuuya that well yet, but you knew one little thing: he was a terrible liar.

You opened the door to the bathroom as quietly as you could, hoping it wouldn't creak and possibly rat you out. When you managed to close it behind you without a sound, you exhaled a breath you didn't even know you were holding.

Stepping slowly and carefully, you walked towards the bathroom stalls and stood still for a second.

Yeah. There it was.

Your mouth quirked up into a pleased smile when you heard the sound of heavy breathing coming from a stall to your left. Gasps and choked out little moans reached your ears and went straight into your core.

Kuuya was jerking off in that bathroom stall.

You licked your lips and kept moving slowly, much like a predator trying not to be seen. You slotted yourself into the stall right beside him and crouched on top of the toilet, effectively hiding your feet from him in case he looked down.

But from the sounds coming out of his stall, he was already way too cumbrained to notice anything around him.

You could hear the sounds of his hand rubbing his cock mercilessly as he groaned, probably a little louder than he should if he was trying to be subtle.

Your breathing became heavy.

You found yourself imagining his hand grabbing his shaft tightly, rubbing his thumb against the angry pink tip of his dick, smearing the beads of precum all over his length. His other hand would be lifting his shirt to pinch and pull at his nipple, eliciting those cute little gasps you kept hearing from where you were standing.

Begrudgingly, you undid your pants’ zipper and shoved your hand into your already leaking cunt.

His moans got louder, the lewd, wet sounds of him fucking his own hand going faster and you thought of how his cock would be twitching, balls heavy with cum tightening as a warning sign that he was about to come undone.

Your fingers circled your clit, eyes closed and mouth agape with a silent moan at how fucking hot he sounded and how filthy you felt for getting off to him without his consent – but it's not like he didn't do the same to you before.

A loud, shaky moan came out of him as he apparently came all over his own hand. You thought of how he would ride his own high, squeezing every last drop of his load out of his cock until the overstimulation would be too much and he'd halt his movements.

You heard him pant heavily, stopping your movements so he wouldn't hear the wet sounds of your pussy. You were so far away from your own high, but listening to his little mewls was more than worth the frustration.

Until he opened his mouth again to moan your name.

“I love you… I love you I love you I love you, fuckfuckfuck I love you so so much.. a-ah fuuuuck…” the sounds of him furiously jerking off reached your ears again and your eyes fluttered shut as you tried to control your breathing.

He kept moaning and whining your name over and over again, probably leaning against the stall's wall as everything began to shake in the same rhythm of his hips.

You bit your knuckle hard, trying to avoid making any sounds while you rubbed yourself, chasing your orgasm to the glorious sound of your pathetic stalker fucking himself silly in your workplace's bathroom.

His whiny, slutty voice sounded like honey, viscous and sweet – something that you would swallow eagerly, leaving your tongue heavy with his syrupy, nauseating taste. 

You bit your knuckle harder as you felt the frustration of chasing a release that would not come, because you desperately wanted to taste him; to glide your tongue over his skin and memorize the salty flavor of his sweat and the musky scent of his body. Anything else would not work for you anymore.

You could eat him whole, truly. You needed your hands and your stomach and your pussy to be full of him. Urgently.

You stopped toying with your clit, allowing the anger of not even having a sad, unsatisfying orgasm wash over your body.

Kuuya seemed to finish much quicker this time, your name in his lips loud as he came a second time.

You looked down and bit your lip, pulling your own hair in frustration – you could see a few drops of his cum drip onto the bathroom floor, pitifully wasted.

Closing your eyes, you forced yourself to breathe deeply and closed your eyes. 

First, you needed to get out of there without him noticing so he wouldn't have a mental breakdown and run away. And then, only after that, you could think of the next steps of your plan.

You allowed yourself to rest your head against the wall, waiting for him to clean himself up and leave.

It was so weird, this desperate attraction you had for Kuuya and how afraid you were of messing everything up. You had your previous crushes before, sure. But nothing was ever as strong as the desire you had to cradle that stupid man in your arms and keep him with you, safe. 

You knew things were different once you found out he was obsessed with you and it still didn't extinguish that little fire inside of your core.

Usually, you'd lose interest in people as soon as they began expressing interest in you as well – you knew it was wrong and you had brought it up during therapy sessions, but it never really bothered you.

Until Kuuya. 

When you confirmed your suspicions (that he was insanely obsessed and even went as far as stalking you) you felt a strange excitement bubble in your stomach – like you had achieved something.

It made you shiver in anticipation for those little moments in which your eyes would meet his and he'd blush furiously, or when you'd purposely brush your hand against his only to watch how he twitched and rubbed his thighs together.

You were addicted to him. You wanted him even more after finding out about his feelings, and that was new to you. That was something you weren't willing to let go.

And with that, came the fear that Kuuya might be just like you. What if he was an emotionally constipated mess like yourself? What if he lost all interest as soon as you gave him an opening? Just because he was different for you, didn't mean you'd be special to him, in the off case he had the same bad habits.

That was why you were so cautious, so slow in your movements. You didn't want him to run. You didn't want to lose the feeling of being reciprocated. You'd protect it the same way you'd protect a tiny flame against the whip of a merciless wind.

But after hearing him moan your name like a needy whore, you didn't think you could hold it in anymore.

Kuuya had already left for a good 5 minutes while you were lost in your thoughts.

You quickly cleaned yourself and walked towards the sinks to wash your hands. You looked at yourself in the mirror of the men's bathroom. Sweat stuck to your forehead and your face looked flush. You were out of breath and your heart beat fast and loud inside your ribcage.

You turned on the sink, splashing cold water against your face and, after you dried up, you stared at your reflection again.

Well. So Kuuya had loudly moaned your name as he fucked his own fist. And you had masturbated to the sounds of his gasps and mumbles of your name.

No matter how paranoid you were – you were very much sure you weren't fucking hallucinating any of that.

“Walk me home?” you went to his desk after you finished the last of the details in your reports, fully intent on taking him with you to your home.

‘It’s now or never’, you thought to yourself.

“S-sorry?” he sputtered.

“Walk me home?" you repeated "The rain stopped, but it's kinda late. I don't want to walk alone. It's too dark.” 

He seemed to consider your request for way too long. Anxiety began bubbling in the pit of your stomach, and, for a moment, you thought it'd be better to just pretend you never asked anything, until he answered you.

“Okay… I can go with you.” he murmured, getting up and grabbing his shoulder bag.

You let out a breath of relief you didn't know you were holding, and smiled.

“Thank you, Kuuya!”

You didn't miss how he bit his lips and shivered at your words.

The walk home was uneventful, as you expected. Kuuya walked by your side and insisted on staying on the road's side of the sidewalk. You praised him for being a gentleman and he became a blushing and stuttering mess, but besides that, he was quiet. 

You arrived at your door and Kuuya hovered right beside you, watching you fumble with your keys.

You weren't very good at hiding your anxiety after all.

Once the door opened, you stepped inside and held it for him.

“Come inside for a moment.” you murmured after clearing your throat.

You watched his throat bob up and down when he swallowed hard. He probably had many questions and, honestly, you couldn't blame him. You had no reason to invite him to your house.

At least not obvious reasons, that is.

He did as you told after a few seconds of hesitation, although he had confusion written all over his face.

“Why… why did you invite me in?” he finally asked while he watched you shrug off your coat and kick off your boots. You motioned for him to take off his shoes as well and leave them beside yours.

“Just something I gotta do.” you answered, observing him clumsily undo the knots on his shoes.

He cocked his head to the side, looking up at you.

“What?”

Once he was finished putting his shoes right beside yours, you beckoned him with your finger, and began walking deeper inside your house and towards your room, hoping he would follow.

He did, dumb shock plastered on his face, but still compliant.

You opened the door and motioned for him to enter. As soon as he was inside, you slammed the door behind you and locked it.

Kuuya's eyes were wide as he quickly turned to look at you. He seemed terrified, the poor thing, but this time you wouldn't back down. You couldn't.

“Shhh, it's okay. No need to be so scared” you shushed him as he opened his mouth, walking slowly towards him. You placed your hand on his chest and pushed him towards your bed.

When he plopped unceremoniously on the mattress, you looked at his pants.

He was already hard.

You smirked.

“Do you know why I brought you here?” you asked in a murmur while you leaned towards his trembling figure, wiping a few stray tears from his cheeks with your thumb and holding your weight over him with your other arm.

“N-no…?”

You cocked your head, actually surprised at his answer.

“Really? Are you really that clueless?” you traced his jaw with your finger, and he squirmed underneath you, rubbing his thighs together to get any friction on the bulge inside his pants.

“I…” he cleared his throat “I don't understand.”

“Well, I, for one, am not clueless you know.” your fingers traced the length of his neck, and you smiled when a few goosebumps pricked his skin.

He gulped.

“I know you jerked off to me earlier today.” you said flatly, with a sickening sweet voice while your finger now teased and rubbed his pebbled nipples through his shirt.

He gasped and you didn't know if it was from surprise or pleasure.

“I also know you followed me some weeks ago and jerked off in that bush outside my window.” you pointed to the window hidden behind your blinds and he followed your gaze, eyes watery and cheeks a bright red.

“And I know you steal my stuff and my trash so you can keep it.” he was still looking at your window when you palmed his bulge through his pants. He arched his back, moaning loudly, and you grinned maniacally at his reaction.

Pretty slut.

“Do you… D-do you think I'm disgusting?” he asked, shamelessly grinding his hips against your palm.

“Yeah, I do. I think you're disgusting and a creep.” he moaned at your words, but his eyes closed tightly, and a few more tears ran down his cheeks. He had a pained expression on his pretty face, like you had hurt his fragile feelings.

Apparently Kuuya knew how to tug on your heartstrings.

You moved your hand away from his pants, fully aware of the damp spot that had formed on the fabric.

“But so am I.” you completed and he opened his eyes wide, looking at you like you had just grown a second head.

“Seeing you so desperate and needy…” you shook your head in defeat “It does things to me, you know.”

“I-it does?” he asked, all doe eyed, blushing and hopeful. You sighed at the sight, trying to burn it forever into your brain.

“Mhm. Yeah. It makes me wanna eat you whole.”

Kuuya shuddered as you placed your hand back on his chest, gliding it towards his throat. You held his neck firmly for a second before you gently cupped his warm and reddened cheek. He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes like a cat.

“Will you let me, Kuuya?” you whispered.

“W-what?” He opened his still teary eyes, gazing at you expectantly.

“Will you let me eat you?”

A beat of silence went by and you almost felt the ugly head of shame peek into your mind, but then he nodded, a single tear falling onto your thumb.

“Y-yes.”

Like a thin thread snapping, you kneeled onto the ground and pulled his waist towards you, letting his legs hang limply on your sides. Your fingers trembled as you undid his belt buckle and you looked at him.

Kuuya was propping himself onto one of his elbows, his other hand covering his mouth as he watched you hastily take off his pants and boxers. His hard cock sprung free, leaking pathetically, and your mouth watered at the sight.

You were starving. 

It was time to eat.

Kuuya felt like he was dreaming. Or maybe he died and his very own heaven (if he would even be allowed there) was having you suck his painfully hard cock.

He forced his eyes to stay open so he could watch you. The way your tongue swirled on his head and pressed mercilessly on his slit – you had barely put his cock inside your mouth and he already felt like he was melting.

He knew he was sounding pathetic. He whined and squirmed against your hands while you kept his thighs open. It was so good, it was feeling so good he was losing control of his body.

When you started bobbing your head, hollowing your cheeks to suck him harshly, he thought he would die. It had to be wrong, to feel this good. It was criminal.

Kuuya moaned like a whore and, deep inside, in the still conscious part of his mind, he wondered if you liked it. He hoped you did, he hoped his pathetic high pitched groans made you soak your panties because he couldn't control them.

Not when you were sucking him so good.

He bucked his hips against your mouth, the sound of your gag snapping him out of his daze for a moment so he could mumble a “sorry”, but then you moaned. 

You moaned and the vibrations of your throat went through his cock and he lost it, completely. He held your head firmly, thrusting frantically into your mouth as he repeated “'m sorry! 'm sorry! 'm sorry!” until the words lost all meaning to him. With a stutter, his hips bucked again and he spilled inside your mouth, his slurred words elongating into a pornographic moan.

You opened your mouth wide, relaxing your throat as soon as his cum began spurting, eagerly swallowing the salty taste of him while he rode his orgasm until he couldn't take the stimulation of your soft mouth anymore. 

As you dabbed the drops of cum that had spilled from your mouth, he suddenly wondered, in the back of his mind, if you already had any practice doing this kind of stuff. He panted, face warm and red, dick twitching while he looked at you wiping your mouth and licking your fingers. And he felt jealous at the thought.

He wanted to be the only one. He couldn't handle the thought of you touching anyone else like that. He hated it. Hated it. He had to be the only one you'd touch like that. God, he wished he could go back in time to prevent you from touching anyone else, just so you'd always be his alone.

A few angry tears pricked in the corner of his eyes and he tackled you to the ground, surprising you with a hug.

“K-kuuya?!” you squeaked, the air leaving your lungs went he laid all his weight on you.

Kuuya began rubbing his cheek against yours, sharing the sweat that stuck to his forehead with your face, making you grimace.

“W-what's wrong?” You asked in a murmur, after reciprocating his hug.

He whined wordlessly and began untangling himself from you, holding himself up by his trembling arms.

And, for a long moment, he just stared at you.

You thought he looked beautiful. 

He wasn't exactly the most handsome man in the world, but to you, he looked angelic.

His lilac hair was disheveled and his face was flushed. His lips were a pretty red, as if he had bitten them too hard, and his eyes were half-lidded and clouded with lust and sheer adoration. It sent tingles down your spine. You wondered if anyone has ever looked at you like that, but you already knew that no one has ever held you in such high regard. It made your heart race and your core burn. 

You could sear the image of him under your eyelids and you would never tire of it.

He was gorgeous.

You tucked a strand of damp hair behind his ear and then cupped his cheek. Your thumb rubbed his skin gently and his eyes fluttered shut. He began leaning against your touch again, before he stopped himself and opened his eyes. You looked at him, puzzled, when he averted his gaze.

“U-um…” he began, after clearing his throat. You kept quiet, allowing for him to continue.

“C-can I… um. Can I eat you too?” He mumbled, closing his eyes tightly. You felt your face tingle at his words and his adorable embarrassment.

“Yes” you murmured and he opened his eyes wide “Yes, please.”

Kuuya quickly sat up on his knees, and looked around, apparently finally realizing you two were laying on the ground.

“Do you… want to move to the bed?” he asked bashfully, and you chuckled.

“Yes, it'd be more comfortable.”

He got up, holding out his hand to help you up as well. He didn't really have enough strength to pull you up, so you just held his hand tightly, not wanting to reject his help, as you gracelessly lifted yourself from the ground.

As soon as you were standing, you began pushing the waistband of your pants down, but Kuuya's hands quickly stopped you, holding you tightly. You widened your eyes as you looked at him.

“I… want to do that.” he said, bashfully.

Wow. Who would have thought he'd be so brazen for once.

You smiled, nodding, and laid on your bed, making yourself comfortable. 

You observed how Kuuya was already rock hard again and he had yet to touch you properly. He was insatiable for you and it made your pussy clench around nothing. 

He was going to be the death of you.

Kuuya, in a sudden development, decided that it didn't matter what happened in the past. What happened, happened. All he needed to do was make you forget about it all.

He needed to be good. He needed to fuck you so good that you'd forget anyone you might have hooked up with in the past. He needed to make you addicted to his tongue, his fingers and his cock so you'd always go back to him for more.

Granted, he didn't know how he was going to do that since he was a literal virgin, but he hoped his enthusiasm would convince you to give him more chances, until he had mapped every little crevice of your body and all the little buttons that made you squirm.

Kuuya licked his lips, slowly pulling the hem of your pants down while he kneeled on your bed. The sight of your soaked panties made him gasp loud, and he had to grip the base of his cock tightly, hissing as he threw his head back. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down while he swallowed hard, concentrating on not allowing himself to cum.

He couldn't allow himself to cum untouched just by looking at your wet cunt. At least not in front of you. Not right there. He would, however, be filing this image inside the safest corners of his brain to become prime masturbation material later on, that's for sure.

He leaned in, warm and shaky breath hitting the damp spot on your panties. His tongue lolled out unconsciously and he licked a long stripe over the fabric of your underwear.

He was so sure he had died. That's the only possible answer for all the things happening right at that moment. Not only did you suck him, now he was tasting your pussy?

Oh god. He was tasting your pussy.

It was like something broke inside of him, allowing all of his obsession to spill over as soon as he pressed his tongue against you. He moaned loudly, ripping your underwear away only to grip it tightly in his hand as he, at last, dived into you.

He was going to keep it to himself as a prize. 

Kuuya slurped and sucked and licked your wetness like a starved man. He wasn't focusing on the task at hand; instead, he was just getting drunk on your juices and your musk, moaning like someone who had just eaten the most delicious sweet. Oh he was so cute, all pussydrunk like that.

You hummed, gently holding a fistful of his hair as you grinded lightly against his eager tongue. You… probably weren't going to cum if he didn't suck you with a little bit more intent, but you figured you'd just let him enjoy himself for a bit more.

Just looking at his eyes rolling and hearing the sinful whimpers and grunts he was letting out was already doing something to you.

Soon enough, however, Kuuya seemed to discover that one little bundle of nerves. He gave it a few kitten licks before curling his lips against it to suck, and it was finally your turn to roll your eyes.

Your hand gripped his hair tighter and your back arched while he rolled his tongue against your clit; eyes wide when he realized he must have done something right.

One of his hands tentatively rubbed against your entrance and you cooed.

“Yes Kuuya, that's a good boy… Put one of your fingers inside me, baby”

He gasped against your pussy, the praise clearly making him lose his focus. A mean part of your brain thought about stuffing him with a butt plug just so you could make him wag a little tail whenever you praised him, but that would have to be an adventure for a later time.

He began pumping two fingers inside you, mouth going slack in awe once he heard the shlick of your wet cunt, and drool pooling at the side of his mouth.

He was so clueless and so, so cute. You couldn't help but think about actually making a mess of him.

“Kuuya” you said, not as a moan, but as a call. He stopped his motions for a second and looked at you – doe eyed, mouth and chin still glistening with your cum.

You licked your lips at the sight.

“I'll sit up a bit. I want you to lay down on the bed.” You said, as you shifted your position and rested your back against the headrest, making him crawl towards you to keep his head between your legs.

You watched as he slowly rested his body against the bed, a little yelp coming out of his lips when his hardened length pressed against the mattress.

“Good boy.” You praised him as you ran your knuckles on the sticky skin of his cheek and he whined.

“Now I want you to hump the bed while you eat me out.” you said, flatly.

Kuuya's eyes widened like saucers.

“W-what?” 

“You're hard, aren't you?” You ran your hand through his head, caressing his hair gently “I want you to fuck the bed while you eat me out. I want to watch you move your hips like a pretty slut. Can you do that for me?” 

He blinked, staying silent as you kept threading your fingers through his hair. The furious blush that spread through his face and neck was anything but unnoticeable.

“I can give you a pillow, if you'd rather hump it instead of the bed” you added, figuring he was probably already addicted to humping his own pillow like a dog in heat, so it wouldn't hurt to make him comfortable while he obeyed you.

“Y-yes… I would like a pillow then.” He whispered.

You mouthed an okay and gave him your favorite pillow – the one you usually hugged while sleeping. You wondered if he knew that. And by the way his eyes lit up when he saw the pillow, you figured he probably did.

“Take off your shirt? Please?” you asked him, after he positioned the pillow where he wanted it to be.

Kuuya pouted at your request, and as you were about to tell him he didn't need to do it if it made him uncomfortable, his trembling hands moved to unbutton his shirt slowly. You reached out to him, pausing his hands. He looked at you, sad puppy eyes glistening with tears.

“Do you want to take off your shirt? You don't have to if you don't want to.” you reassured him.

He sniffled, looking away.

“I-I don't mind.” he mumbled and you knew he was probably hiding his discomfort to please you and would never tell you the truth. 

Kuuya seemed thirsty for your approval in every little thing, to the detriment of himself. It made a little monster inside of you roar with the desperate need to keep him tucked away, safe with you, just like a dragon who hoards gold in a faraway cave.

Your thumb caressed his still trembling hands.

“Then just leave these buttons undone. You don't have to take it off.”

“But-”

“Kuuya.” You said his name firmly, making him flinch despite the gentle touch of your hand against his. You noticed how his cock twitched at that as well. “It's okay. Now please be a good boy.”

You went back to your position against the headrest and opened your legs, pussy still dripping and throbbing with the lack of attention. He gulped, licking his lips and nodded furiously.

It was hard, coordinating his movements. All Kuuya had known his whole life was to jerk off or hump his pillow, but now he had to suck you, lick you, pump his fingers inside you AND hump your precious pillow. Not that he was complaining. He loved it. It was Heaven.

But he felt a bit self conscious about his abilities, or lack thereof.

Just like he was self conscious when you asked him to strip. He hated his body – he was so scrawny and weak-looking, he felt disgusting. What if you hated him? What if you wanted something else in a partner? He couldn't risk having you uninterested in him! Not when he got what he so desperately wanted!

Showing you his body would have to wait until he was either convinced you truly wanted him, or until he got you locked up in his apartment. The last option was the most tempting to him – having you shackled to his barred window would be a guarantee that you wouldn't run away after all.

But for now, all he could do was his best – all while suffocating you with his affections until you drowned in them.

The squelching sounds of your pussy as he pumped his fingers inside you were driving him insane.

Kuuya humped your pillow like a dumb dog in heat – his hips almost bounced against the bed with how hard and deep he was thrusting. He couldn't wait until he was balls deep inside your cunt, the leaky tip of his cock kissing your cervix until he filled you whole.

He felt dizzy. He half registered how loud his moans were; all he could think was about your cum all over his face and how he fucked your pillow, mean and fast.

“C-curl your fingers up, baby” you whined, pulling his hair, and this finally got his attention.

He acquiesced, because he was good. He was so good for you and he was going to learn everything you liked because no one else would ever touch your body ever again. 

Only him.

And he had to learn it all to keep you satisfied and happy, so you'd praise him and fuck the brains out of him as a reward. It was the perfect exchange! You'd be his and he'd be yours and nothing could ever keep his grubby hands away from you now.

He would do whatever you asked.

He felt a spongy texture against the pad of his fingers, and when you mewled, legs spasming around him, he knew he had found gold, somehow.

He halted the movement of his hips to focus on swirling his tongue against your clit and fingering your cunt at an insane speed. He would for sure be extremely sore the next day, but he only cared about your loud moans and how your thighs were squishing his head so tight and so good.

When you finally came, he groaned at the feeling of your cunt squeezing his fingers inside you, pulling them deeper inside with a vice grip, and the taste of your cum wetting his whole face. He reached his own peak at the thought of how HE was the one who made you curl your toes and soak your bed sheets like that.

And another proof that he was made for you was added into his mind.

But it was too fucking much. For the first time in his life, Kuuya felt drunk. He needed more or he would die. He needed more more more more.

Maybe more than you could even give.

He didn't let you breathe at all.

As soon as your eyes fluttered open again, coming down from your high, he began crawling on top of you, panting like a feral dog. You watched as a sticky thread of his cum momentarily connected his dick to your now wet pillow and despite all that, he was still fucking hard. How was that even possible was beyond you, but you didn't have time to linger on those thoughts when he hovered over you.

“I wanna cum in you” he moaned, still moving his hips, humping your mound. His eyes were glazed over, like he wasn't all there with you, and his pupils were blown wide.

“I wanna cum in you” he repeated, panting, a little bit of drool spilling from the corner of his mouth “I need to cum in-inside you. I need to fill you up, please. Let me breed you? Please? I wanna be inside you and hnng- pump you full of my cum, please? Let me cum inside, please? Please please please let me breed you, please” he slurred nonstop, almost incoherently, while he frantically moved his hips like he couldn't control them.

He was so drunk with you that he was desperate and talking like he had never done before. 

It was pathetic. 

And so fucking hot.

“Shhh baby, it's okay” you cooed, petting his head to calm him down while your other hand squeezed his hip to try and still his movements “You can fuck me, it's okay. I'm not going anywhere.”

He whined, nodding his head and sniffling as a few tears ran down his cheeks, seemingly coming back to his senses a little bit.

“It's okay, love” you pulled his head towards you, cradling him on your chest. You kept on petting him, while your other hand softly scratched his back in order to calm him down.

Once his breathing was a little less erratic, you let him raise his chest again.

“You okay?” you murmured.

He nodded, rubbing his eyes. Then he looked down at his cock and back at you. You chuckled. He really was insatiable.

You threw your arms around his neck, eyes half-lidded.

“Then go on and fill me up” you murmured against his ear, enjoying the shiver that went down his spine.

You didn't need to ask twice.

Kuuya was so nervous.

He was about to be inside his love! He was about to fill them up with his cum, but the thought itself was already throwing him to the edge. He would have to do his best to not cum once he felt your gummy walls squeeze his cock.

Easier said than done.

Kuuya threw his head back again, a guttural moan erupting from his chest as soon as he got the head past your entrance. He heaved loudly, focusing so hard on not spilling himself so soon, whimpering whenever your walls clenched around him.

“Y-you okay?” you asked breathlessly and all he could do was nod with a pained expression on his face.

“It's okay, take it slow” you added, gently rubbing his thighs. 

You were an angel, truly. Only you would have so much patience with someone as pathetic as him. He had to fuck you good! He had to show you that you could depend on him! This way you would keep pampering him like he so desperately needed.

Through pure determination, Kuuya pushed himself further, moaning pornographically with every inch that went inside you. Once you had taken him down his hilt, he exhaled, shakily.

“T-there you go…” you groaned “Filling me up so much, my good boy.”

Kuuya whimpered. He was torn between asking you not to say those things so he wouldn't cum, and lapping up your praise like a parched man.

He began moving, slowly thrusting in and out of your wet cunt, and he felt like he was melting all over again. He was going to be just a puddle, with how good it felt. You clenched tightly around his length like you were trying to milk him dry and he realized that he was probably going to be addicted to this from then on – there was no going back.

His nails dug into the plush of your hips as he began pounding into you, fast and erratic, the sounds of his balls slapping against your ass and the wet noise of his cock being drenched in your juices were so dirty and he loved it. He couldn't help the “Ah! Ah! Ah!” he kept letting out to the rhythm of his thrusts.

You were just so good, so made for him, so his.

With a sudden movement, Kuuya hooked his arms under your legs and pushed you. He always saw that position in those porn videos, and he always wanted to do it to you. The mating press. He wanted to push himself inside you as far as he could and then fill you up with his jizz. Ah, just thinking about it made his cock twitch inside of you.

He wondered if you could feel his fast and loud heartbeat in your pussy, since his cock was so damn hard. It would be almost painful if it wasn't for your glorious wetness sucking him in so good and taking care of him.

You grabbed one of Kuuya's hand and brought it to your clit, urging him to draw little circles on it to bring you over that edge. He rubbed it quick and merciless, looking down at how your pussy was swallowing his cock, so wet that a ring of white had formed around its base as he fucked you, and how your clit also twitched under his fingers.

Not long after, you felt your abdomen tighten and your walls clench around him as you reached your orgasm, arching your back while you desperately pushed his hand away from your clit to avoid overstimulation.

Watching you cum so hard because of his very own ministrations made Kuuya cross over that edge right away as well. With a high pitched moan, he spurted his load inside you – so much cum that it spilled down  to your bed and Kuuya mindlessly tried to push it back into you while he rode his high.

His chest was heaving and his eyes were glazed over, the look of pure adoration still visible in his pink orbs as he looked at you, sweaty and thoroughly fucked (by him! Not by a toy! Much less another man! Not ever again.)

He wanted more. He needed more. He felt like he could cum over and over again inside you and fuck you silly for hours on end.

But as he opened his dry mouth to say these words, a sudden tiredness took over his body and his eyelids got impossibly heavy.

Kuuya fell down into your arms, unconsciously snuggling your figure, his softening dick still inside you as he cuddled your body and placed kisses on your sticky skin. It wasn't long until his breathing became steady and sleep took over his body.

You decided you'd let 5 or 10 minutes pass before you'd wake him up in order to drink some water, eat some protein bars and join you in the shower so you two could clean up.

But damn it, was he adorable while sleeping. He had a little pout on his bottom lip, but besides that, his face finally looked relaxed. The first time you've seen him like that in all those months you two have been coworkers.

Pride swelled in your chest as you thought about how you're the first one to ever see him like that.

The scared wet cat finally in your arms, ready for you to coddle, kiss, fuck, take care of and protect from any harm.

You unconsciously tightened your hold on him, feeling a wave of possessiveness so vile that it made you dizzy for a second.

It was a bit too much, what you seemed to feel for him. But you weren't willing to analyze that at that moment. He was right there in your arms, clutching you like you were his lifeline – and that was more than enough for you.

At least your anxiety and paranoia had been completely quelled. If he was so desperate to fuck you after you confessed you were a bit creepy for him as well, then maybe it was okay for you to be more upfront with your desires, just like he was.

Even though he truly would never guess he was being so obvious.

It was so cute, how he thought you really didn't know about anything he ever did. Not the stalking, nor the stealing. And not even the little thoughtful things he could straight up tell you because you'd genuinely appreciate them. 

However, regardless of him telling you or not, you just knew everything. Your poor little baby wasn't very subtle, after all.

Therefore, you very much knew Kuuya had stayed behind with you at work just because he knew you'd be there. He thought he was elusive, but you could pick up his intentions from miles and miles away. As soon as you first saw him idling alone in that kitchen, it all clicked perfectly in your head.

Kuuya was so silly and so dumb, sometimes. But it was okay because that made him so, so cute that you could eat him up.

Over and over and over again.

[nicholasgoodgirl]

that was mean- nicholas

summary: nicholas was having a bad week and gave you the silent treatment.

warning: argument, crying, happy ending

a/n: i couldn't stop thinking abt this no joke. so ofc i had to write it out

from late at night till he left early this morning for work nicholas has been either quiet rude or both.

we haven't spoken to eachother or not even silents acts of love. nothing.

he cut his alarm clock off and i tried to give him a hug before he got out the bed and he pushed me off of him "not right now" he grumbled and got out of bed

when he left for work i said 'bye' to maybe break the silence shared between us, but i got no response. it was starting to get lonely. i missed my bestfriend that was also my boyfriend

i had nobody to mess with or someone to talk to about my day.

to stop these lingering thoughts i go back to bed to maybe get my mind off of things.

--

i wake up around 8 am which was later than the time i usally woke up around, but today was sorta a lazy day.

it was gloomy not much sun was shining, it rained a little here and there. it was more of a slow day for me so the extra rest was very much needed

i text my boyfriend forgetting about the whole silent treatment ordeal.

me: how's your day going so far?? :)

and to no suprise i was left on delivered and soon left on seen. i messaged him periodically throught the day; hoping that maybe he would reply

it was almost time for dinner which normally nicholas cooks cause he's just better at it, but i didn't know when he was coming home or if he would even do it, so i look up some quick easy recipes and nothing struck my fancy but the pizza recipe. cause how hard could it really be?

i put a packet of yeast into my bowl along with some flour, water, oil, and salt. i let that sit for 30 minutes then im back to cooking again.

spreading flour onto the counter and placing the dough onto it; kneading it into a circle shape. this was harder than i thought

i look around for the marinara sauce and i put it into a different bowl and add a few light seasonings.

i paste that onto the dough, then i sprinkle some alot of cheese onto the pizza and my additional toppings bell peppers, spinach, and mushrooms.

i was so proud of myself especially sense i wasnt the cook, out of me and nicholas. i was really excited for him to try what i made but again i highly doubt he would even eat the food.

i put the pizza away into the oven completely forgetting to set a timer and put on a movie while i wait.

--

a smell of burning was the first thing that woke me up. "shit shit shit" i repeat totally freaking out remembering i left the pizza in the oven.

i get a rag and ineffectivley wave smoke out the air. when i open the oven it smelled horrible. i was coughing from all the smoke that had entered my lungs.

i take the burning pizza out and throw it into the sink, and hose it down with the water.

thats when i hear the front door open and mentally face palm. "what's that smell?" he asks "i kinda burnt a pizza that i tried to make"

"of course you did" he mutters sounding unimpressed. "and the fuck you mean 'kinda' you obviously did burn a damn pizza" he gestures to the chunk of charcoal burnt pizza

"it's not like i did it on purposes or something if thats what you think" my tone sounding a bit confronting.

"It's smells fucking horrible so open a damn window first off" he took a step closer raising his voice.

"you don't pay for shit so i don't understand why you almost had this place in flames secondly. then you also wanna blow up my phone while im working for crying out loud what do you want from me!" he yelled directly in my face

and im sure he knows by now i hate being yelled at. it's something my parents did and overall doesn't solve anything

i just take it, i didn't wanna fight so i go over to the nearest window and crack it open so the smoke clears.

my eyes watered from all the harsh words he could dish out but not the equal amount of attention "well.. you are- when i was.. ugh s'not my fault" i couldn't get a full sentence out. i felt so belittled in this moment

"im going to bed i don't have time for your stupid ass shit" those words hurt more than he thinks.

he had the most patience for me, always making time for us and now he doesnt.

"that's so mean.. you're being so mean" i wipe some tears that had fallen. i turned away from him silently crying.

the peices of my hair stuck to my tear-soaked cheeks. "wait- I'm sorry please don't cry" nicholas' voice was filled with regret.

i lazily push him away from me but he doesn't budge. his arms wrap around me bringing me into his familiar embrace. "I'm so sorry for being an asshole. I've been having a long shitty week and i know thats not an excuse so you don't even have to forgive me."

"you're everything to me. i swear i didn't mean it." he adds

the unforgettable cruel words he'd said to me earlier shoved ontop of his sweet loving words made me cry more.

i let him hold my trembling body as sobs tore through my chest, each inhale was ragged and uneven.

my hands clutched the material of his shirt "im so sorry sweetheart i never wanna make you cry" he explains in such a low voice, giving my hair strokes in attempt to calm me.

my face still burried into his neck tears now starting to dry away, and my breathing starting to even out. he carried me over to the couch and placed me in his lap

i was drained from all the crying, the tense feeling in my body beginning to melt away when i really started to feel nicholas' touch. my eyes drooped again this time staying shut for longer.

i was too tired to resist the sleep that had tooken over. and being cradled in his arms didn't help.

"I'll order pizza for the both of us alright?" he took me off of his lap and placed me on our couch. then lays one of our throw blankets ontop of me. "can we talk in the mornin'?" is the last thing i remember asking before dozing off.

a/n: can yall tell idk how to make pizza

[limethefirst]

Now that reader and maria has an interaction imagine if Reader dies instead of maria? Like they saved her and dies in the process? Idk if they still will do the whole destroy the world thing or not but it would be cool tho (like dr. Gerald start to see reader as his own grandchild)

Die with a Smile

pairings: Shadow the Hedgehog x reader x Maria Robotnik (platonic)

warnings: Sonic 3 spoilers, character death

summary: while trying to escape the GUN Base you and Maria are almost caught by the guards, realizing you won’t make it

a/n: I think if Maria survived she wouldn’t want to destroy the world, nor would Gerald (to an extent cause Maria wouldn’t want him to do that) but he would definitely want some type of revenge, same with Shadow but we won’t go that far into it, it’ll be just the basics of what happened that day you died instead, tysm for the request I’m not really good at writing angst but I tried🥲

Quiet. The day started off quiet. Although you sensed something was off, maybe it was the feeling of urgency you felt or the feeling that you should cherish these next hours to come.

Whatever it was you brushed it off, but thinking back on it now, you should’ve paid attention to the signs.

You, Maria and Shadow all sat on the floor, your faces fixed on the small television that Maria had in her room, it played a random movie that you weren’t too interested in. Suddenly you heard an alarm blaring, it seemed like the other heard it to as they both looked towards each other then to you.

“What’s going on?” Maria shouted, expression extremely worried. You shook your head, your hands covering your ears trying to block out the loud noise.

As you three sat there confused, the door to Maria’s room opened “Kids! We have to go!” Dr Gerald yelled at you three, ushering you each out and pointing down the corridor. Shadow held onto your left hand as Maria held onto your right and her grandfathers left.

The four of you ran as fast as you could, Maria still trying to find out what was wrong but her pleads for answers falling onto deaf ears.

As you ran, you took a quick glance, noticing the amount of guards running after you, their guns raised, ready to shoot down children.

Your grip on Shadows hand tightened, you didn’t want to die, you wanted to live with your friends; you were so scared, the fact that not only you would have to suffer this fate but also your friends.

After a bit of running you’d almost made it out, you saw the exit was near, but then you’d heard it, “Don’t shoot, they’re kids!” You turned back and saw it, the gun aiming at you guys, but then it was pushed. It was pushed towards one of the radioactive containers that you knew was unstable.

Things were racing through your mind, the hope that maybe you would all survive, the dread that dawned as you realized you wouldn’t, but maybe, at least you could ensure your friends would survive.

Before the others noticed what was happening, you pushed Shadow behind you, and then you turned your body and hugged Maria, using yourself as a shield.

And then, you smiled. It was short and small, but you smiled. You made sure both Maria and Shadow were covered by you, the majority of the blast only attacking you.

They say when you die your brain replays your best memories for the next 7 minutes. You’d always wondered if that was true, you guess now you’d really find out. You hope it’s true though, because you just wanted to see your friends one last time.

Your body was getting colder, the three no longer running for the exit, instead they stood there shocked, seeing what you’d become.

Maria was the first to try and wake you, her shoulders shaking, she was crying. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Gerald was next to get down, he was checking for any signs of life, there was nothing.

Then there was Shadow, he stood there unsure what to do, before he fell to his knees. His eyes were wide as he just stared, seeing how even in death you could smile, it was so bitter for him.

The guards didn’t give them time to mourn though, as they dragged the three of them away, putting cuffs on Maria and Gerald. Shadow was treated harsher, he screamed your name a few times as they used a taser to forcefully push him into his container.

He tried to get a look at you, he tried to find Maria and Gerald but he just couldn’t, they took you from them, and now they were going to let you lay there all alone. Any of the warmth your body had was gone.

It was no longer a quiet day, it became a day full of sorrow and despair. A day that changed the lives of people, but one thing was set in stone. That you would be avenged one day, no matter how long it would take.

[turon-na-saging]

Fixation at Strength

sung jinwoo with a short older female reader older that has herculean strength like Do Bong Soon.

a/n: hello everyone, this is my first contribution to this fandom 🙆‍♀️. my writing skills has definitely rusted from years of inactive writing but hope you like this. i was working on the isekai corporate slave reader, but this kept occupying my mind so now this was born lol.

update a/n: had to edit a few things after rereading as it mostly comes off as a self-insert instead of a reader insert. apologies for that. 🙇‍♀️

EDITED WARNING: this is my first time attempting writing a yandere/dark fic. if such trope makes you uncomfortable, please continue scrolling and ignore this post.

EDITED TAGS: mentions of blackmailing, cliché plot/trope, probably the brewing beginning of dark jinwoo(?)

[you are here] [2]

Sung Jinwoo was brooding.

He was on his way home after clearing a gate an hour earlier when the system screen popped up in his face. On the screen, an alert was issued to look out for a potential threat. With a loud ring, the amount of distance was shown to him.

His eyes narrow at the distance drastically went shorter. Was this a hunter? Possibly a monster? He hasn't heard or receive any news of a dungeon break near this neighborhood. His body was tense as he ready himself at the upcoming threat. His eyes shook as he looked at the number closely. It was coming closer to him. Glancing at every road corner of the neighborhood around him, he waited.

The tension he felt was immediately broken once he heard a light-hearted humming. A short young woman appears from the corner of the neighborhood staring down at her phone.

Jinwoo nearly tripped at the sight. Was the system broken? Jinwoo thought as he stared at the short woman before him who walked passed by glancing at him for a second before minding back your own business. He double checked at the screen and indeed it really was you that the system considered a potential threat, seeing the number of distance growing again after he passed by you. Not to mention, he could not see or sense a single mana around you yet why did the system deemed you a threat? Unless you were like him?

A notification appeared as it now identified you not a threat and the alert was closed.

Something didn't felt right. The fact the system reacted to you like that. Using his stealth skill, he followed behind you hidden from sight. He could hear you hum as you wonder what to get for tonight's dinner. With raised eyebrows, he can tell you are quite harmless and . But then again, you are a civilian and not an awakened hunter like him.

Deep laughter broke him from his thoughts as he saw an approaching group of 3 guys. Based from their clothes, the few armors they had and the aura they're emitting, they are definitely hunters. D-rank to be exact. He looked at you, who was still happily skipping as you scroll down your phone.

As he predicted, you accidentally bumped your shoulder into one of the hunters in the group. You immediately offer an apology to the man, but he didn't liked it as he grabbed your arm and tore off the phone from your hand, slamming it down the ground.

"The hell was that woman! Not a proper apology? You just bumped into a fucking hunter, show some respect!" The burly guy, who could tell was the leader, shouted.

"That's right boss! Tell 'em!" His buddies cackled beside him as if they found a new entertainment.

Jinwoo was about to show and finish those guys himself when he froze upon seeing you push the man like nothing making him fly hard to the nearby trashdump. His buddies took a step back out of shock before you expressed your frustration at them holding your now broken phone.

Jinwoo was in disbelief as he quietly watched you singlehandedly beat them up and dragged each of the guys by pulling up by their top, lining them up against the wall to kneel near the garbage dump. They were cowering as they sobbed snots pouring out of their nose.

He could hear you ask their ages with each of them obediently answering. After their answer, you made sure to lightly smack each of their heads yet the men cried harder as if it was painful, after learning they were younger than you. Judging from the state those men were in as they bow down apologizing to you in tears and swearing not to be bunch of assholes anymore, you have certainly already taught them enough lesson.

A noona? You sure didn't look like it. Jinwoo just felt something light inside him despite his human emotions slowly died out from the near death experience he had after he received the system. If one were to look closely, there was redness on his ears.

Upon finally noticing him standing a few feet away from where you were, you froze as there was a witness. But there was something unsettling for you, his eyes were glowing purple and small wisps of shadows surrounded him. That definitely screamed danger to you. This man is a hunter and far more dangerous than the usual ones you encountered. You may have your superstrength, but you remain cautious as your jinx may backfire.

Seeing you were distracted, the men scrambled off running away in fear. You didn't pay them any mind as your attention was on the hooded man a few feet away from you.

"Who are you...?" You warily asked, fists clenched watching him with caution.

Jinwoo couldn't hold back his chuckle. He may have seen your strength and knew not to underestimate you. The height difference was big with him towering over you. But you were too adorable for him despite being older than him. This unknown feeling was growing rapidly at the sight of you, high alert looking up at him with wariness. Like a cat ready to bare her claws and fangs, he mused.

You have certainly caught his interest. Was this a good thing? With the smirk present on Jinwoo's face and the glint in his glowing eyes? Well, who knows.

At the sudden shift in the mood, you could only feel dread and the urge to run away. Like a predator laying its eyes on its prey, waiting for its move.

You gasped when he was infront of you, leaning down close to your face the instant you blinked. His eyes lingered at the company ID which displayed your name for a few seconds before a smirk graced his lips.

"Sung Jinwoo. Nice to meet you, noona~"

Upon hearing that name, your blood ran cold. Korea's 10th S-Class Hunter, the one people especially the media have been going crazy about lately. His display of strength during the Jeju Island Raid has certainly earned him a reputation and admirers. With growing popularity, there will be no doubt people who see him in a negative light.

With your instincts of danger sent shivers down your spine, you held his arm as you plan on throwing him down the ground as a warning to stepping into someone's personal space. Instead of that happening, the ground under your feet crumbled as you realized Jinwoo was not budging an inch. Your eyes went wide in shock and perhaps fear. It didn't work.

Seeing as you didn't stand a chance, you are about to step away but he immediately held you by your waist pulling you close to him. The shadows around him made you freeze, like you'll be swallowed whole in any moment. You are shaking without realizing it.

Jinwoo felt bad that he found this sight of you cute. He easily towered and covered you as you only reached until his chest. He didn't know why he felt the need to pull you close to him. This was an entirely knew feeling for him.

"It is curious as to why you're not a hunter with that strength, noona? Does the Association know there's an unregistered awakened?" He whispered in your ear. It was a teasing tone yet it was laced also with threat.

"I-I'm not an awakened! I swear!" You hastily answered. "Please don't report me! I really am not!"

Your thoughts were running out of control as you try to come up with excuses regarding your power. Meanwhile Jinwoo remained silent as he continue staring at you, contemplating. Indeed you are speaking the truth as he couldn't sense even a speck of mana on your body, even at this close contact. Unless you have tremendous skill of cloaking it to the point of being thought as a normal person. After a minute, he finally let go despite not fully satisfied with what he got.

"I'll believe you for now." Jinwoo released his grip from your waist as you sighed in relief before glancing up at him again with those wary eyes.

"But in exchange, I wanna see noona more often." His eyes narrowed as it glowed, yet he has a smile that you couldn't describe. "Wouldn't want the Association learn of your power right?"

The confidence he held by holding the knowledge of your deepest secret, Jinwoo knew you would've give in. Seeing you glanced down at your broken phone, he knew what you were insinuating.

"I have my ways of finding you. Seoul is a smaller than you might think." He simply answered with a shrug. With a sour look you nodded, he knew he already won.

His phone rang making you both broke eye contact as he check who was calling. Seeing it was his younger sister, Jin-Ha, he had no choice but to part ways with you for now. "Sadly, I would have to cut our meeting short. I'll see you soon, noona."

To your surprise, his whole body slowly disappeared like mist leaving you alone in the middle of the neighborhood street. You definitely have sealed your fate.

Without a second thought, you ran away in haste as to make sure you've gained distance away from that place. Once you were home, your family noticed your pale complexion and thought it was due to a long day of work. Although bad news for you, he already planted some of his shadows to yours without you knowing.

Anyways, thank you for reading y'all! Thoughts are appreciated! Don't mind me going feral for this as I'll be making more parts for this pairing. owo/

[whowrotethenote]

Write a cm punk x reader x Roman smut but they’re basically Paul Heyman in the situation

Disclaimer // Main Masterlist // Roman Reigns Masterlist // Join My Taglist

A/N // Thank you to the anon for that creative ass request. @novamystxcxox sent me something similar, but I had already started this💗 Hope you both like it!

I did not make this x reader because I'm not good at those. I have to give my characters personality, backstory & physical characteristics. That's just my preference.

Also, the smut is reserved for the OC & Roman because... that's my man and I love him.

I do not take requests yet. Mostly because I barely have the time to write as is and I know they would just be sitting in my asks collecting dust like this one was for so long. This was just too good to not pursue. One day. Just not today lol. Okay, bye.

Pairing // Roman Reigns x Black Fem OC (Paula Heyman) x CM Punk

Warnings // Profanity // Smut [minors DNI] // Toxic behaviors // Age Gap

Word Count // 6.5k

“It’s going to be five versus five…”

Paula watched in the adulation that replaces the smug pride after waiting for his music to play. The entirety of Green Bay, Wisconsin buzzed with every emotion given to the human race as they recognized the infamous theme song.

Nothing feels like this. No amount of alcohol. No drug. Nothing can mimic this feeling of a live crowd giving back tenfold what’s given to them. 

He brushed past her, wrapping his hand to meet the rest of them inside the ring. A full on war breaking out the minute he slid inside. Five exceptionally large men, all cleared out the ring by her boys. With ease. It's how she knew she made the right decision. She knew no one else would carry it out like he would.

She made her way to the side of the ring just in time for their stare down. All the faces in the stands losing their minds.

CM Punk! CM Punk! CM Punk!

The pressure of the cheeky grin pushing through was heavy. She couldn’t help it. She hadn’t seen Roman in months. Hadn’t seen Punk even longer. But as soon as she called—he came. 

“Why are you here?” She read Roman’s lips as he squinted. 

“To save your ass,” was his reply. 

He was pissed. His pinched brows. The tension in his broad shoulders. The tightness of his mouth. The flexing of his jaw. His hand, opening and closing in a tight fist. No—he was fuming. But that’s only because he couldn’t see the bigger picture right now. That’s where she came in. That’s what warranted her presence in his life a necessity. If it wasn’t more obvious before tonight—amongst all the chaos that had ensued in her absence— it was now shoved in his face.

“Thank you. Really.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” Punk smiled unwrapping his hand. “That was only half the job.”

Her head swiveled slightly watching the hustle of the backstage crew. Gathering equipment, everyone mic’d up and moving with a purpose. She missed this. 

She nodded. “He’ll come around. Trust me.” The pressing matter of Roman’s disapproval of his presence was heavy. It lingered above them like a storm cloud. It put the biggest wedge between them. Something that was never there before in their relationship. “I just have to talk some sense into him. He’s emotional right now.”

“I’m not worried about him. I’m worried about you, Paula.” His eyes, sincere—always opposed to his appearance. The tattoos, the foul language, the attitude—none of it ever complimented his kind eyes. “I’ve seen the way he talks to you. The way he talks to everyone he loves.” He raised his brows.

Immediately defensive and strangely protective of her current client, she shook her head. “He’s just…used to betrayal. He keeps everyone at an arm’s length. It's his way of keeping control.”

“It doesn’t make it right.” He stood firm. The affection for his best friend and former manager, overriding any excuse she felt compelled to give him. He didn’t care for any of it.

“I guess I’ll let you go, then.” She scanned him once more, already thinking of her next phase of business. She didn’t have the luxury to sit and tangle in emotions. She was a woman working in sport’s entertainment. They already looked at her as if she was Barbie dropped in the jungle. And they expected her to get invested in her work in a way that was overlooked in men. Flirting and sleeping around and whatnot. But that wasn’t Paula Heyman.

She vowed to never get entangled with clients. It was business first, always. She was about business. That’s what they loved about her. The men—charismatic and dominant as they are—were off limits. But every now and again, she found the lines between client and manager blurring. Things get sticky. Lines get crossed.

Her first blurred line—Phil Brooks. Best in the world. And to the world he was CM Punk. The bad ass that swept the WWE universe off their feet.

They developed a friendship that transcended client and manager. An intimate kiss between the two, one drunk night celebrating another victorious defense of his title reign—almost led to something more. Thankful for the little voice in her head, she stopped it. Things were different after that. She put up boundaries, but it did nothing to ease the ache of what if. That same ache presenting itself right now, like it did every time they found themselves this close and secluded.

“Thank you, Paula.” He held a hand out. A spot in WarGames benefited him as much as it benefited the Bloodline and she made that possible. She gladly took his hand, until he pulled her all the way into him—foreheads kissing. “You think about what I said the other day?” He whispered. 

She sighed deeply. “Punk…”

“I know you remember what it felt like. All those years ago. Just the two of us. Young, wild, and hungry as hell. Kicking ass and taking names.” She released air from her nose reliving the memories. She had never felt more alive than she did with him. She’d be a liar if she didn’t admit to missing those days—and him. But that was then. This was now. She wasn’t that girl anymore. So, she kept that sentiment to herself. But he didn’t need to hear it. Because the same way she was now in synch with her current client, she once was with him. He could still feel it. “It’d be just like that. But better this time.” She opened her eyes that were met with his—specks of olive always so alluring. 

“Just think about it…Alright?” He pulled away as she nodded. Their hands lingering before he completely turned and left her there. 

She looked around, now aware of the world around her again, hoping no one saw their moment. Everything gets back to him here. Him.

Paula swallowed knowing she’d have to face him. She made a menacingly slow stride to his trailer after leaving the arena. She knocked twice. Then three more times, before she heard the familiar voice tell her it was open. 

She walked in the small but familiar space as he removed his OG Bloodline shirt with a heavy sigh, releasing all the weight that’s been dumped on him since losing his title. You’d think the load would be lighter now. The saying is supposed to go—heavy is the head that wears the crown. He had given his crown up, or rather it was stolen by the American Nightmare, and yet he still felt like the King. On top looking down at everyone else, even in his untimely absence. And Solo had presented him with an entire new set of weight with this whole New Bloodline mess. 

The muscles in his back flexed as he slightly stretched and rolled his head. The silence was agonizing. Gnawing at her because she could already feel whatever he wasn’t saying. 

“Where have you been?” He finally questioned. His back still to her. “I’ve been calling.” He took a sip of whatever he poured. 

She squinted at him once he finally turned to face her. His chest—one she’s seen plenty of times—still, a distraction as she attempted to just zero in on his static expression.

“That’s funny. Considering you went M.I.A. long before I did.” She crossed her arms, causing her full breast to push up, catching his attention for a split second. “My calls fell on death ears as well.”

“I asked you a question.”

“After Mania you vanished. You left me here. Vulnerable. Alone. Defending you. Fending for myself—”

The cup met the counter harder than he intended, summoning dead silence again as she swallowed the remainder of her rant. He had already lost his Bloodline before all this—then his title. He didn’t need another crash course on all the ways he’s fucked up. 

“I’m here now.” She spoke again when she felt it was safe enough to. “You’re here. Jimmy’s back. Jey’s back. Sami’s here. Things are back to normal.” As close to normal as possible without Solo and that belt hanging from his waist. 

He gradually nodded. Her words sinking in. He didn’t want to fight. He fought enough tonight. She turned to leave, knowing he preferred solitude at the end of the night.

“Don’t forget who you work for.”

She scoffed. Only Roman would leave her to fend for herself after he lost his little title and decided to tuck tail, just to come back and want to run shit again—as if he never left. But that’s just the kind of man he was. He wanted what he wanted, when he wanted it and he didn’t care who he had to run through to get it. That’s what drew Paula his way in the first place. Her contract was ending and she was looking for some else to counsel on the roster. There was not a single person that housed half as much charisma and hunger as the Roman Reigns. 

Their journey has been the epitome of a rollercoaster. By his side in feuds and every climb of the ladder. Reaping the benefits of accompanying such a charismatic figure in his own right. Her life went from great to legendary. Now, she sits on the Island of Relevancy as they call it—pockets as fat as they had ever been, and her life looks exactly the way she’d dreamed. 

But no good deed goes unpunished.

“How could I?”

Roman checked the time on his expensive watch again—only moments after the last check. Leg bouncing, jaw ticking, with that infamous stone cold exterior, that screamed he was not to be fucked with. Long fingers smoothed the hair above his plump top lip, until he reached the dark and greying hairs of his chin.

Whatever he was feeling, Paula felt in her bones tenfold. She shifted in her seat, unable to keep still. In the dark room, the only thing they could hear was her irregular breaths and his less than impatient sighs. 

She couldn’t explain it if someone were to ask her. It was as if signing the dotted line and agreeing to manage him put a hex on them. This invisible string—this unimaginable force pulling them together in every instance of every universe formed. She felt this burning,  unwavering loyalty to him. It was sick and twisted. The lengths she’d go to please him—to carry out his wishes. How empty, aimless and useless her life had felt these past months without him. Not even so much as a text from him. It took every fiber of strength to not answer that call. But she needed him—if only for a second—to feel what she had felt since Wrestle-mania. 

His brown eyes pierced her, feeling like another beam of light in place of the one they sat under at the stretched table. Three seats. One at the head where Roman sat of course. Another next to him, always reserved for her. Lastly, a vacant one at the other end. 

She knew what was coming next.

“Paula.” His deep voice made her heart stutter. Out of fear, relief and every other emotion in between.

“Yes, My Tribal Chief?” She answered trying her best to keep her voice steady amidst the storm of emotions brewing inside of her. 

“Where the fuck is he?”

Turning to meet his hard stare, she hesitated. Raking through her brain to find the words that wouldn’t tick him off. But considering the flex of his jawline, she could tell it was too late and it didn’t matter what she said—he was already at the edge of the cliff. 

“He’ll be here,” she assured. Only she hoped. Punk just like Roman liked to play mind games. Toy with his prey before he caught it. Please not today, she thought. She prayed their years of friendship and building a bond outside of their old contract was enough to get him to pull through for her. 

“I don't understand. He’s going around calling you his Wisewoman. He’s butting in on family matters. And now he’s got me waiting like I’m some errand boy. As if my time isn’t valuable.” The legs of the chair made a violent shriek as his towering frame began to rise. “Let’s go.” It wasn’t a question, nor was he looking for her opinion, but Paula still placed a hand on his forearm to stop him.

“Roman—”

On cue the slam of the heavy door that granted entry to the empty vast room sounded. Paula’s heart sighed watching him make his way to the empty seat. Looking back at Roman she silently challenged him to sit and he obliged. 

“Alright, let’s get this over with.” Punk checked the time on his watch. Paula rubbed her forehead feeling an oncoming migraine. These two men—with the whose dick is bigger games—were going to be the death of her. She had never faced a bigger challenge in all her years in the business. They were going to collectively chase her into an early retirement at the ripe age of thirty-one. 

Just get through the weekend, she thought. Then it’ll all be over…right? A dream. That’s what she was selling herself. As long as that hex she spoke about was still alive between her and her current client, she’d never know peace. With the fuck you, pay me attitude he rendered and big bully on the playground persona he carried with him like a purse, pissing anyone within a five mile radius off—it’ll never be over.

“I don’t know what you’re looking at your watch for. We’re on time. You’re the one that’s late, Junior.”

“Yeah, well I’m here. I don’t want to be here any more than you want me here. But you need something from me. So, I’d think you’d turn your asshole down just a little bit.”

“I don’t need shit from you.”

“You sure about that?” A snort pushed through his throat. “Cause the way you’ve been face down on the mat every week at the hands of your family says otherwise.”

Paula sat back like a child witnessing her parents have their first post-divorce argument. It was no point in getting in between these two. She knew better. They had to figure it out.

“Listen to me—”

“No, you listen to me. I came here for two things. One,” he held his pointer finger up, “to make it very clear that I’m not doing this for you.” He nodded in Paula’s direction. “I’m doing it for her. I’m not here for you—it’s all for her.”

Roman smiled so deeply his dimple showed as fine lines creased around his mouth. He sat back in the chair eyeing them both. Paula could feel the heat radiating off his body as she fiddled with the Bloodline ring he gifted her years ago, refusing to return eye contact. 

“I’m happy for you two. Really, I am.” Whatever feeling was opposite of happy on the spectrum, was what he was actually feeling inside. “Finding each other again after all these years. The story’s lined up perfectly. It’s beautiful. Poetic almost. But, that also has nothing to do with me. That’s y’all shit.” His hand shifted between the two of them. Paula flinched at the heightening aggression she recognized as a precursor before he usually put his hands on someone. “I don’t want—need—whatever you wanna call it—your help tomorrow night.” He spoke like a dragon emitting fire with his every word. 

Over his antics and borderline temper tantrum, Punk adverted his gaze to the only person in the room he deemed worthy of any acknowledgment. She took the deepest breath before finally speaking up for the first time since he entered. 

“My Tribal Chief.” She placed a dainty hand in front of where he sat on the table to disarm him first. He looked down at it as if it was a cuff restraining him. “With the way Solo has gone about things—especially after Crown Jewel—it wouldn’t be very wise to turn down a helping hand.” She spoke like a circus tamer trying to calm the big cat before it went rogue. “Now, I can find someone else. But there’s no one I trust to do this as much as him.”

Roman tried his hardest to accept her words, but the smug smirk on Punk’s face was pulling him in the direction of irrationality. 

“And you.” She continued only turning her head in Punk’s direction. “You think Solo is just going to forgive and forget what you’ve done?” The smirk vanished. “You speak like someone who has a choice, but let’s be all the way real here. If you don’t help, you’ll just move up on the list of people he plans to run through after he wins. We can do more together than apart. You mean to tell me the two of you can’t put these petty ass differences aside for just one night, to conquer a common enemy?”

Both men regarded one another. A silent battle that couldn’t have been louder in the ears of the woman between them—who knew both like the back of her hand. Punk was the first to come forward as he slid his forearm on the table.

“You don’t like me and I don’t like you. That much is clear. But Paula’s right. We can get through one night. One common enemy. One win. One time.”

“One time,” Roman agreed. 

“When it’s all over and done—you and I can have a different conversation in the ring, maybe.” He smiled pushing the chair back.

“What was the second thing?” Roman interrupted his attempt to remove himself from the meeting. The room grew eerily quiet. “You said you came here for two things.” He clasped his fingers together. “What was the second thing?”

Paula’s relief was short-lived as she watched the look he always had when he was up to no good present itself. “To make sure I get what I’m owed when it’s all said and done with,” he revealed. 

Roman scoffed with wide eyes. “I’d owe you a favor?” Punk immediately shook his head. 

“No—no, you don’t owe me anything.” His eyes flicked longingly to his best friend who he’d been removed from all these years. “My best friend—our Wisewoman will owe me a favor.” 

Paula subtly shook her head, hoping her eyes could relay what her mouth feared to speak. She remembered the conversation after he came out to help the Bloodline. How he begged her days before to just consider the idea of coming back home—as he referred to it as. In his corner, supporting him and counseling him. Keeping him on top. Although she never gave him a direct answer, she knew after tomorrow night, it’d go from an inquiry, to something owed—just as he spoke of now. 

Oh, but she was so wrong. About everything. While Punk did yearn for his friend to come back and play for his team—he had a bigger picture in mind. One he didn’t plan on revealing until every thing was all over, to eliminate the risk of this said favor not being carried out. 

Joy reflected in his eyes as he watched the shift of tension build within the two other parties at the table—but that wasn’t his problem. So, he got up and left them to deal with the mess. 

“Wisewoman,” his authoritative voice called to her. 

She winced. Her wish that he would just leave it alone until after WarGames, completely in vain. 

“Yes, My Tribal Chief?”

She met his dark eyes. “What is this favor he’s talking about?” He pressed.

“Uh—” Paula didn’t truly know and she knew that wasn’t an answer he was going to accept. She was only guessing that the favor had to do with their previous conversations. A topic way too touchy to present to Roman. He was already hanging onto his sanity by the thinnest thread. The contingency of losing his Wisewoman after just gaining her presence back, would sever that thread completely.

“Let’s just get through tomorrow night. Okay?” She flashed that pretty smile. Not at all ready to become the object of his wrath—like she’s been plenty of times before. “We can talk about it after. I promise.”

Again, she twisted the band gifted to her by the man seated next to her. Always by his side. Always the master pulling the strings to ensure him and his family stayed out in front. What she tried her best to conceal, was that she needed him as much as he needed her. It was a two way street. It wasn’t just the inevitable betrayal that she anticipated. It was the unprecedented emptiness she’d feel again without him.

WarGames was its namesake. A full on fucking war. A civil war amongst men of the same Bloodline, which made it that much more brutal—because it was rooted in love in place of hate. But in the throws of the obvious war between the original Bloodline and this new one—there was an equally intense war within what was supposed to be two men playing for the same team.

Every side eye and hateful glare that transpired, she shifted and sighed to herself. Anxiety growing until she had a garden full of concern and angst with her at the ringside table with the announcers. Two bombs that always seemed to be ready to detonate at any given moment.

She paced. She ran hands through her blowout frustratedly. She had to do away with the suit jacket. She was hot with worry. She didn’t know which was worse. Them in the confines of a cage outside the ring, or them inside a bigger cage in the heat of battle. She just kept praying that they made it through the night without killing each other and winning of course. 

When Roman wedged a hand out to prevent Punk from entering the match, Paula nearly lost it. She was sure they were going to kill each other before even stepping foot inside the ring, then. Mean ass, she thought as he waved a hand at an exhausted Punk whom he disregarded to help the rest of the Bloodline on their feet.

Proud. That’s what the pinball of her emotions landed on at the end of the night. Her boys fought valiantly and the win was well deserved. Punk and Roman even shook hands. Two of her favorite men, now coming to an understanding. A mutual respect. She did that. 

At the end of it all, Roman met her down the steps of the ring—a strong hand cupping her face. His thumb grazing her cheek three times. I love you was the hidden significant message. Something he started years ago. Too prideful to speak it, he’d stroke the words with his thumb. On her wrist, her arm, her knee. Today, her face. It’s when she knew she made the right decision. The war was over. 

In the wee hours of the night, she found herself in his trailer. He called her over and offered a bottle of champagne that they popped open together in celebration. Things were finally looking like they were coming together after being abruptly dismantled. 

On their second glass now, they stood reminiscing on all it took to even get to this point. How far they had come and how much further they planned to take it. Somewhere in the expensive champagne and the fog of taking a jog down memory lane, Roman was feeling more sentimental than usual.

“You know I appreciate you right, Paula?” Thank you would’ve been too much. But even him extending his appreciation was something she didn’t see often. It had her momentarily melting like ice cream on a stick in ninety degree weather. 

He knew he lashed out more than what was needed. Talked to her like the shit on the bottom of his shoe at times. He threw more than enough responsibility in her lap. Threw a fit when things didn’t go his way. Created more problems for Paula to come behind and clean up, instead of solutions. But his worst crime of all—leaving her alone after losing at Mania. He was ashamed. He didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t ready to face the universe of WWE yet. More importantly, he wasn’t ready to face her. She worked her ass off, day in and day out, to guarantee he made it to the top of the mountain—and he lost it all in one night. 

“Next phase of business—putting that Ula Fala back around your neck where it belongs.” Already onto the next phase—moving the goal post back. “Only halfway there, Chief.” She offered a half smile.

Always so professional—so well put together. Composed. He always yearned to see her come undone. Touched himself to vivid imaginative flashes of what that must look like. Loose curls cascaded around her, head rolled back and mouth agape. Him beneath her, admiring his new canvas—her. He couldn’t help but to paint a picture of what Paula Heyman would look like as a mess, losing control—just for him. Desperate. Begging.

She was strong. Resilient. But even the most unwavering women—solid as a sculpture in Italy—could always use the reactive force of a stronger man. 

Those lips. They were naturally pouty and plump. Every time she talked, he found himself drawn to them and how they curved at certain letters. He deemed them perfect. Only able to use his imagination, he thought about how they’d feel wrapped around him. How’d they look. 

“When’s the last time somebody fucked you?” He blurted out. She nearly choked on the bubbling champagne. He stood unmoved, expecting an answer.

“I’m sorry?”

“You heard me.” He placed his glass down. His dick pressed uncomfortably against his pants. He was losing every ounce of patience and composure he had. He was done playing games. He respected her and her hustle, but it did nothing to put out the fire inside of him whenever he watched her interacting with other men—especially that motherfucker Punk.

“And I’m not talking about the last time you had sex—no. I mean the last time somebody fucked you so hard, you forgot to breathe. So good you felt it everywhere. It was all you could think about after the fact.” 

Her skin heated up to an uncomfortable degree. The kind that warrants tiny tingles and possible rashes all over your body. Her breathing pattern kicked up at the smoldering look in his eyes. She couldn’t mistake his intentions now. Especially after her eyes flickered to the bulge in his pants. 

He made a step toward her. The heavy thud of his giant boot meeting the floor sounding as a doomsday soundtrack for her professionalism. She knew she was in trouble. “Roman—”

“Shh,” he hushed her and smiled wickedly. His sharp canines on display. He relieved her of the glass and sat it on the counter her ass was rested on. She didn’t even understand how he’d gotten so close so fast. She was sure he could hear her heartbeat, as it was booming in her own ears now. “Relax,” he whispered. “Let me thank you properly.” The wicked smile had vanished in a flash and in its place was an intense concentration. His brown pupils blown and trained on her lips.

He was going to kiss her. And as much as Paula’s head screamed no—her body conforming to his and her mouth falling open before he even reached her, told a completely different story.

The air around them was so charged, if anyone else walked in they’d be electrocuted on sight. His fingers found their way into her hair, tangling and fisting it, earning a gasp from her. Leaning in, his tongue swept her mouth fiercely. He didn’t need to test the waters with a timid peck. For what? She was his Wisewoman and he planned on making that very clear tonight. In the sickest part of his membrane, he wished he could sit Punk down and make him watch what he planned to do to her. 

Paula’s hands found his muscular and tanned arms as his free one roamed the meaty flesh of her ass though her skirt. Always galloping about in the highest heels, shortest skirts and tightest dress pants. He craved to know what it felt like under his palms. To squeeze and knead it as he was now. His dick was so stiff, it was almost painful. 

The eruption of their kiss quickened. It was messy now, as they couldn’t even keep up with their own lust—passionate and scorching with the heat of hell. 

“How long?” He mumbled in between the kiss. Still, expecting an answer. 

“I—I don’t know,” she admitted. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had blown her mind in bed. She tried for years to make some sort of connection, but it was pointless. This job—governing Roman, had become her life. It consumed her and men could see that. She opted for the occasional fling here and there, but they were all pointless. Always leaving her dissatisfied and half full. So she scrapped the idea of men and dating altogether. 

Roman roughly turned her by the hips. Pushing his pulsing member on her ass and growling in her ear at the friction of her writhing against him. She was soaking and he barely touched her.He could smell her and it ignited the beast in him. 

This was a new frequency of intimacy for her. No man had ever been so exhilarating and demanding in his approach. He commanded things from her body without even speaking a word. It was sorcery, really. 

She felt his hands next. Big, calloused, and firm. They slithered over her thighs as his warm breath and facial hair tickled her ear. Under her skirt, they disappeared until it was bunched around her waist. She got lost in the heat and hardness of his body. Her eyes popped open after hearing the violent tear of stocking material. The cotton of her panties snapped next. 

“Ro—Unnh!” 

She gasped violently at his entry and he wasn’t even halfway in yet. No condom. Nothing between them except passion and the longing of two people who underhandedly craved each other for years and couldn’t do anything about it. Hatred and frustration, that only two people who loved one another could muster—sprinkled on top.

He eased his length in, inch by inch, watching the pinched look on her gorgeous face. This was better than he had imagined. Crinkle between her curved brows, hands spread on the wall, mouth as wide as it can go. All because of him.

He stretched her out to his liking, until he reached the end and then pulled back. He slammed back in almost losing his nut at the squeeze she granted around his thickness. It felt like the best hug he ever received—warm, wet, and tight as fuck. A small hand slithered between them, to which he easily caught. Using one strong hand to pin both her wrists together above them on the wall. 

Leaning back slightly, he admired the view. Her round ass perked up and pushed out. Puffy lips  wrapped tight around him, glistening under the lights of his trailer. The deep line in the center of her arched back with a thin layer of sweat.

“You’re perfect. Just like this.”

“Roman,” she whined. Frustrated and helpless to move as he had her trapped. 

He smiled against the side of her face. “You feel so good to me.” Another gasp as he began to push in and out at a steady pace. Squishy and sloppy sounds filling the small space around them. “Can’t believe you kept this shit from me for so long, baby.” His free hand came down on her left ass cheek before he dug his finger in her hip, guiding her up and down his massive dick. He let her adjust and find her own rhythm—too fixated on the little sounds from her mouth and the contortions of her pretty face, to do anything himself. “Yeah. Keep throwing that pussy back on me.”

“It's so big,” she moaned. She shouldn’t have been surprised. He talked too much shit to not have the means to back it up. He grinned smugly.

“You can take me. Right, baby?”

Struggling to locate her voice she just nodded against the wall profusely. Afraid he might stop and put an end to this immeasurable sensation he awakened. It hurt so good. He was creating a monster and he didn’t even know it.

“Keep them hands right there. Don’t move,” he instructed. He used his own to grab handfuls of her ass in both palms, stretching her wide so he could get a clear shot of her wetness pulling on him. Every time he withdrew she sucked him back in. A trail of white stuff lingering as evidence to how good he was making her feel. “Making a fucking mess,” he grunted. He let his possessive hold go, loving the recoil of her ass on his pole. It was hypnotizing. He questioned how long he could hold out like this. 

Against what his body was advising him—which was to pace himself—he violently pounds into her drenched hole over and over and over again. Beating her up. 

“Oh my—fuck! Yesss.” She was a glutton for punishment. His punishment disguised in gratitude. His frustrations took control of the wheel. Her going ghost on him was unacceptable. He was losing his fucking mind. A fact he’d never admit out loud. It didn’t go well with his, I don’t need anybody—head of the table—persona. 

Teeth barred down and upper lip curled into a snarl, he continued his assault, but that little pussy packed some power. It fought back. A fight he wasn’t prepared for. She was leaking. Juices running down her toned leg and his balls that hit her clit with every connect. 

“Damn, girl.” His head falls back for a second. 

“Right there—oh my goddd!”

“He can’t help you right now.” He teased huskily. 

“Please, Ro.”

“Please what? Huh?”

She didn’t even know what she was pleading for. Mercy? Release? She wanted more of everything. More of him, if possible. 

They found themselves in the space of his bedroom. He wanted to try every position, but he knew he’d have her in here until this same time the next day to fulfill that fantasy. So he opted for the position where he could see everything.

He had her on full display. Button down now completely off, her breast hung freely over the lace bra after he pulled them out. Stockings still obliterated, the hole he made had grown. He could see everything. Her swollen lips surrounding her poking clit. The tight ring of her ass that he vowed to play with later. The wetness smeared everywhere. 

He gripped himself—heavy and strong—at the base to ease back in where they both needed him, but not before slapping it down twice, loving how reactive she was to every little thing. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think she hadn’t been touched in years.

She was enamored with his body. The way his smooth bronze skin stretched over every defined line and cut. How his tattoos—reflecting the armor of a Pacific warrior—danced with every flex of muscles. He had the body of a god. If only it wasn’t attached to such an asshole.

His hand found her breast. He pinched the chocolate nub until it hardened again. 

“Push ‘em together for me.”

Hastily, she cupped both D cups together. Her chocolate peaks to the forefront as they bounced with every salacious thrust of his hips. 

He planted two swollen fists on either side of her head to lean all his weight down. His mouth latched onto her, igniting a tingle in her clit as she clenched around him. 

“Mmm,” he hummed like he was tasting the most delicate and richest piece of chocolate straight from the factory. Flicking, sucking and swirling. He was in heaven as she watched in awe. The most dominant man on the current roster, feasting on her. He bit down on one nipple causing her to jolt up slightly. One last suck as he pulled back, releasing her, and leaving her nipples tender. “Tastes sweeter than you look.” He bit down on his bottom lip. 

He hooked his hands under her knees and pushed until they met the bed to get a deeper angle. The sounds—loud and erotic slapping of flesh, as he buried himself inside of the softest place on earth. She fit like she was molded specifically for him. And in this moment, you couldn’t convince him that she wasn’t.

“You’re mine.” He growled in between pants. “You belong to me. You hear me?” There it was again. That deadly sense of loyalty encompassing her. The looming of Punk’s claim and this damned favor, hanging above his head. 

“Yes,” she barely whispered. 

“Yes, what?” He pushed. Thrust growing erratically sharper and more intense.

“Yes, My Tribal Chief.” 

Satisfied, he rewarded her with another overpowering, sloppy kiss. His hair covered them both. Her hands came up to cup his face—grabbing desperately at his beard as their tongues tangled. But his mission was only halfway complete. He wanted that nut. She earned it. She made him feel like a winner even in the absence of a title or Ula Fala. 

He didn’t want to, but he rose up breaking the intimate kiss. Picking his pace back up. All the way in and all the way out. Hitting that spot that had her pulling at her own hair. Eyes rolled back into her brain like she was possessed.

“I wanna feel you cum on this dick. Come on,” he begged. “Cum for me Paula. Cum for Your Tribal Chief.”

It was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Like an unforgiving flood coming through a broken dam, she exploded on him just as he requested. Forgetting to breathe. Shaking uncontrollably—she felt him everywhere. 

Attentively, he ogled at every change in her beautiful face, every shake of her body—as she unraveled on him, shedding every bit of composure she had left. “That’s it,” he commended breathless. Loving the scene before him. His big palms, rubbing up and down the length of her soft thighs and stomach, to help her come back to center. 

She was shook. World completely knocked off its axis to the point where tears threatened to spill from the corners of her almond eyes. 

She knew working for him came with its perks—but this? This shot straight to the top of the list of all the benefits that came with being his special counsel.

A/N // Of course, if you read it or even a portion, thank you. Feedback is always welcomed💗

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[meidiary]

( 📁 ) THEM ACTING OVERLY JEALOUS

synopsis: the monster trio and how they act when they're way too jealous for their own good...

characters: luffy, sanji & zoro!

warnings: a teeny tinyyy amount of swearing [:

a/n: first time writing for them so i'm pretty nervous!!! , hope you enjoy!! banner is made by me, inspired by the lovely @sixosix and the layout is inspired by the lovely @luckyscribbles <3

it was his fault! it really was.. he was the sole reason you were entertaining this way too confident guy- because he told you that he was out of your league! can you believe that?! and now ZORO is throwing daggers at the poor man just with his piercing gaze alone..

ignoring zoro's needy angry glares he's sending you two, you continue charming your ... acquauntance, growing his already far too stretched ego. "oh darling, how i could melt in those beautiful emerald colored eyes of yours~" and with that sanji cringe-worthy comment you got him babbling on about himself... again.

you're getting progressively more annoyed the longer you hear him try to flirt with you. nonetheless you don't move an inch, because you know he's watching your every move; waiting for you to come moping to him about the guy. he'd feel a sense pride because you came back to him. and that pride, the face he makes whenever he turns out to be right about something, albeit it's a very handsome one, is the last thing you want to witness right now.

so you keep yourself from throwing this guy's drink in his face and telling him his cologne is absolutely murdering your sense of smelling.

you look up as you suddenly stop hearing the random guy talk about some castle garden of his. he gulps hesistantly whilst zoro stands before you, hands in his pockets. "we're leaving." no you're not! "oh zoro~ i barely-" "now." you stand up and turn to leave, but quickly turn back around and give the stranger a kiss on his cheek before leaving with zoro, causing his cheeks to change to a red-shade.

"miss! will i ever see you again?!" he asks before backing up seeing zoro's death glare. "my love, if we are meant to be we will definitely meet again!" what's up with you and these shakespear lines?

zoro gives you a slight shove with his shoulder as he rolld his eyes for what seems like the millionth time this hour. "i think i found my soulmate zoro!" you sang while you interlocked you arm with his. you were met with yet another eye-roll.

"you were the one that said he's out of my league, remember?" zoro huffs annoyed. "shit- that was a joke damn it!" "if anything you're out of his fucking league, dumbass" you lean onto him as you two continue making your way back to the going merry.

"maybe i exaggerated a bit too.." you slowly admit before hearing his usual chuckle. "just don't go flirting with some stranger again, ever. shit could've gone wrong real fast y'know?" you smile sheepishly and nod. "good thing you were there huh?"

and you could've sworn you say his cheeks turn into a rose color before he swiftly turned his head to the side, greeting sanji and nami. was he blushing..?

SANJI was this close.. this close to absolutely losing it and slicing this daring man up with zoro's swords. who does he think he is? flirtingly, charmingly speaking with his lover?! well truth be told.. you two weren't official, far from it actually;

you two were so close to finally having the months-due talk about the classic, what are we-question. but of course sanji had to hit on the waitress that casually passed your table. that was your final straw. if he couldn't stop his antics for one night, you would resume yours for good.

and oh how it made him clench his fists so hard they became white, how it made him ignore all the beautiful ladies surrounding him, for what felt like the first time ever, how he saw you with your pretty dress on, that he bought for you because it reminded him of you, sat on some navy's lap, entertaining the bastard not worhty of a single enchanting smile of yours. yet there you were smiling, no laughing at something the navy said, all while you were supposed to be with sanji. laughing at something he said, playing with his hair, sat on his lap.

he was this close to exploding and increasing his bounty a good amount by punching this navy untill his fists fell off. "sanji, don't you fucking dare." nami warned him, glaring at him from the other side of the table, not in the mood to be on the run again after finally being able to relax for a day.

sanji heard nami, he did! but the minute he saw the disgusting navy's hand run up your thigh causing you to jump off of him, he finally lost it. "keep your fucking hands off her you sewer rat!" he jumped up sprinting at the navy, his snow-white fists ready to release all the pent up anger he held.

but before sanji got to the navy he was stopped by you. your soft, slightly cold hands holding back one of his clenched fists. causing him to slowly unclench it. you tried to push sanji back, knowing his uproar would bring about another navy chasing. "you alright, love?" it's as if all his previous anger vanished the moment he felt your soft touch, smelled you sweet perfume, the moment you felt like his again. "y-yeah i'm good.. but we should get goi-"

"WHAT DID YOU CALL ME?!" the navy man roared causing the others to swiftly join the yelling. "hey aren't those those strawhat pirates with a bounty?!" from the other side of the room it felt like you could hear nami's long sigh. "see what you've done?! grab zoro, usopp and i will take luffy!" everyone complied and assumed their role.

sanji lifted his leg up ready to kick zoro awake right before you pushed him slightly making him stand on two feet again. "not doing that sanji!" he playfully rolls his eyes at your statement.

waking up zoro and running to the ship in a hurry, with a good 3 dozen navy soldiers running behind you calling you names, was the usual. but what surprised you was sanji holding your hand tightly the whole way, not letting go for a second.

once on the ship, back to sailing on the waters, while everyone was catching their breath, sanji took you aside, he interlocked your hands with his while he locked your gazes, still breathless he looks at you earnestly. his eyes illuminating the moon's glow. "i'll stop the flirting my darling, i promise. the only woman i'll charm will be you.. so you better not grow tired of it." he chuckled still a little breathless. you smiled, leaning your body onto his. "you better sanji.."

"i'm all yours sweetheart. all yours"

LUFFY felt weird. he had never met this man before, yet he suddenly has the urge to gum gum bazooka him for the rest of the day. why is he feeling this way right now? is it because he hadn't eaten yet? no that can't be it.. he just had a very good meal with you; you two had split up from the rest of the crew to have your lunch at some fancy looking restaurant on the beach.

luffy furrows his eyebrows once again because of this feeling. he figures, after a while to be completely honest, that the reason he wants to kick this man off the island is that he's taking way too long speaking with you. he's been occupying you for a good 10 minutes now.

how could he? how did he dare to take you from him so carelessly? you two were enjoying your meals, yes you were chatting about the dumbest subjects known to the world, but you were enjoying it. and then some buff man comes and dares to ask you for directions?! it would've been fine if he had left after receiving them, but no, he had to keep talking to you!

luffy was starting to see red at this point. he gets it he does, you're a beautiful woman, you're smart yet very funny, energetic and enjoyable! but you're his. even though you don't know that, even though he never told you that, you are his. and no buff, tall, slick back haired guy was going to change that one bit.

luffy dropped his food and started to walk towards the two of you, angrily eyeing the bold man who was about to get bazooka-d to some far-away island. luffy started stretching his arms, getting ready to send him off.

you notice right away and block luffy's path to the man. trying to laugh it off, you said your goodbyes to the fella and dragged luffy back to the restaurant. "what were you thinking, luff! that could've ended up horribly!" you whisper-yelled, not wanting to attract any more unwanted gazes.

"he took you from me for 10 minutes! how was I supposed to endure any longer!" luffy childishly pouts as he resumes eating. "you could've just said so! no need to bazooka anyone anywhere luf'!" his furrowed eyebrows soften as he hears his nickname.

the first time you called him that he truly hated it. "it sounds like a dog's name!" he complained. but over time, that nickname became apart of him, it was apart of his daily routine; he'd wake up to it, adventure the world with it, buy groceries with it, hear scolds with it. he became one with that silly nickname you gave him, and he wouldn't give that three-letter name up for the world. he wouldn't be able to go a day anymore without hearing you talking about how "the seashells here are so pretty luf'!", or how "i just love it when it's only you and i, luf'," and let's not forget you waking him up with the usual "luf'! sanji finished breakfast, get up already!".

"you can't go off with weird men. i won't let you.. you shouldn't leave my side for some guy that doesn't even know where he's headed!" you chuckle at his remarks. "i wouldn't leave you for anyone luf'! just.. don't bazooka someone next time.. just talk to me."

"you're mine y'know.." luffy tells you while he's munching on some of his cold meat. your eyes widen at his sudden words. "w-what?" "i said you're mine!" he says louder, a little annoyed thinking you hadn't heard him the first time. "you never said that before.."

"never needed to," he takes another bite. "but you are, so don't forget that!" he furrows his eyebrows again while saying that earning a chuckle from you. "i won't.. don't you worry"

NOTE: and that's for my first one piece ficcccc!!!

[letorip]

somethin’ stupid

“and then i go and spoil it all, by saying somethin’ stupid like ‘i love you’”

===+++===

pairing: wednesday addams x reader

summary: even knowing that your relationship with wednesday is one huge grey area, you can't help the words that come tumbling from your lips one night while on an expedition together.

warnings: blood, violent attack scene, angsty pining, mentions of sex, fear of the dark

word count: 4.2k

A/N: first post, kinda nervous. honestly pumped to start posting on here after being somewhat new to writing. will try my best not to suck.

===+++===

It’s only after you meet Wednesday Addams for the first time that you understand why storms are named after people.

In the near five months total she had been in your life, she had quickly climbed to the top priority, and you found yourself trapped in her rain bands, tugged under her dark, swelling tide and drawn to less direct ways.

Now and likely until the very end of time, you followed her through the forest, peeking around each passing tree and shining your flashlight into the dark. It was a knight's sword for you, and you held it like a weapon so as to ward off evil spirits or howling beasts. Only, half of the time it ended up being a squirrel.

It seemed antithetical, to walk into the pitch black forest that had killed several hikers and injured Eugene, -or more the big ass creature inside it had, but Wednesday had never cared much for what made sense, and you knew better than to argue with her.

The rain continued to fall around the both of you, splattering against the hood of your rain coat and rolling down your sputtering lips, tracing your nose on the way down. If Wednesday was at all affected by the rain, she hadn't let it show yet. Not that she let much show, that was.

You shivered from a sudden gust of cold, wet wind rushing over your knuckles from where they white-gripped the rubber wrapping of your flashlight. "Are we almost there yet?" You asked, squinting into the trees. "I have to get up early tomorrow."

There was no possible way Wednesday could know where she was going in the sheer amount of darkness fended off by a flimsy Acebeam, but she pushed through like she did. Maybe orienteering was just part of the outré magic she always carried with her, or at least that's what you figured it probably was. In another life she had been a cheerful girl scout, though you knew better than to suggest that aloud.

The same could not be said for you, who was an utter idiot about directions and probably would have driven off a cliff by now without the use of a GPS. Wednesday had once said you wouldn't be able to find your way out of a cardboard box, and offensively, she was probably right.

It didn't make sense why she chose you of all people to bring along, then. You had no special strength or sight, and virtually no knowledge on how to investigate a murder, especially the serial kind. The only ability you had allowed you to read thoughts and minds, though you never dared read Wednesday's, even when you itched to know what she was thinking.

Despite feeling more like an achor dragging her boat down, almost every evening, at around the same time after dark, she showed up on your doorstep to tug you off to some dangerous place.

Maybe you were secretly hoping for a reward of some sort. She often indulged you as such, lips like a heroin shot directly to your veins, powering you through the day as you watched the clock tick away into night anticipating the next rush. Enid was right. You were whipped for her.

"Your protesting doesn't make the journey any shorter," she replied, turning with the dark look that always lurked in the back of her eyes.

You knew the movements well: when she glared, her eyes lowered slightly and her mouth tensed. One could not help but watch in awe, storing the memory for later. Or, at least those ‘whipped’ for her couldn’t. She spun back around to face forward, your flashlight pointing over her shoulder into the brooding dark.

The rain only seemed to come down harder from there, punishing you both for slogging through the mushy leaves when sane people would be indoors. But Wednesday would not settle until she found Arcadia.

You cleared your throat, uneasy with the ensuing silence.

"Where are we even going, Wednesday? We've been walking forever," you said, looking down at the pale grey rocks as you stepped over them. You were grateful for being clever enough to remember hiking boots.

"We're finding evidence," she replied. "I was informed of a suspicious cave out in the forest, and-" Wednesday's words came rushing to a halt as her foot clipped the rock in front of her. She stumbled a bit, and you threw out an arm to her back, there if she needed something to steady herself on.

It was uncoordinated and it was clunky at best, and Wednesday was far from appreciative. She jolted back from your touch as if you had stung her, glaring as harsh as ever. "Sorry," you said. "I didn't want you to fall." The tips of your ears had begun to burn again, upon realising you were made the fool for another time in a row.

"You should have," said Wednesday, walking ahead. "It simulates dropping dead." Of course, on you, such a statement did not have the desired effect. Whereas most would have replied in shock or disgust, you laughed. Out loud, right at her. The gall. She whipped back to you, perplexed and annoyed by the noise. "Have something to share?"

You grinned. "You can act cool all you want, but if you had actually landed in the mud, you would have been pissed." Her expression went from glare to glower impressively quickly, though you took great glee in the fact she didn't try to dismiss it.

Anyone who had just met her would have been terrified, but you knew that look meant she hated just how much you were right. Wednesday's moody eyes lowered to your jacket, as if she was looking for an insult to sling in response.

"Why are you yellow?"

You blinked, then shrugged. "Because for someone so intelligent I'm the only one who remembered a raincoat."

"The beast will eat you wether you're rained on or not," she replied reasonably.

You blanched at this. It was apparent the possibility had never crossed your mind. "It eats people????"

Suddenly the darkness of the woods only seemed to worsen and the rain seemed to come down even harder, as if life was laughing at the terror it was causing. You had never been one for haunted houses, and you decided in that instant that this was far worse than any haunted house you had ever been to.

Wednesday shrugged, and you were far from put at ease by that. She glanced at you up through mischievous lashes, entirely knowing what she was doing and enjoying every sadistic moment of it.

"I suppose we may find out tonight. I should offer up you, the yellow highlighter, first. You have longer bones than I do, and I'm sure it would appreciate a snack, after-"

"Ha. Ha."

As surprising as was Wednesday's capacity to joke, you knew that's all it was. Such falsehoods could not be exposed to the public, and she would rather die than admit she cared for anyone. That was her secret. You knew to keep it well.

It had been weird to see Wednesday attempt comedy at first. Often times you still thought she may be dead serious. But on these nightly expeditions it seemed she could joke freely. Sometimes she kissed you freely. You just had to know she didn't do it for you. She told you constantly, just to be sure.

From in front, Wednesday trembled from a sudden angry breeze and you watched her, sighing and tugging off your raincoat. You tossed it over her shoulders wordlessly; Wednesday didn't acknowledge it either. She put one arm in, then another, but didn't pull the hood up, and you rolled your eyes. "Pull the hood up, Wednesday. Don't be stubborn."

"I'm fine," she shot back, tone sharp and piercing to any sort of armour you could have put up. But even that didn't make you buy it.

"Your hair is like, stuck to your forehead, Wednesday. Just pull up the hood part."

"I don't even want to be in this dreadful thing, why would I want more of it on me. It's yellow."

"It's keeping you warm."

"I'm allergic to colours."

"Well then I guess it's great you brought a black one- oh, wait! That's right! You didn't."

She blinked at you unappreciatively, but your unimpressed expression made her give in, and she begrudgingly did as she was told. With a hood now over her, shrouding her soft hair from the harsh rain, you felt a bit better about her being out in the cold. After a moment she grumbled, messing with the sleeves. "Why are your arms so freakishly long?"

You didn't answer, biting back a response that included the word 'short.' It would have been entirely unproductive and probably earned a rock thrown at your head. Instead, you focused on the small row of houses you could see on a road in the far distance.

Their windows were small, warm boxes in the dryness, as opposed to the pouring, angry storm only a heathen of some sort would be caught in. It looked the same as it had the week before when you had passed the same area with Wednesday, and you recognised the same lamp that sat in the same spot of the same window on the second floor. It hadn't moved even an inch and neither had the flowers in the pot sitting next to it.

You hummed, "I love streets like those. It looks so warm and comfortable. I could be out here forever and it would still be the same warm place."

"Poetic," Wednesday dryly replied. Poetry had never seemed to move her much, beyond the grim ones from Poe about death and despair. She had tried to teach you about it once, during an impromptu "study session," which was what Wednesday usually called hunting you down after class and sticking your head between her legs.

It was the very first time she had let you stick around after, and the more and more often she let it happen, the more you felt yourself allowing for false hopes. Of course, accusing her of growing fond was a way to end up in an early grave and you knew better.

It had been a whisper, really, what she said with your head resting on her stomach, arms against the skin of her thighs. You were both sweating, terribly so, and then came, "years of love have been forgotten, in the hatred of a minute." It was only a whisper, and you weren't even sure Wednesday had spoken it into existence. But you looked up, and she was staring down at you, eyes unreadable. Her mouth was tensed into a grimace; a symbol for words unsaid.

"What's that?" You asked, leaning your head back.

She had shook her head. "It's Poe. He founded the school."

"I know who Edgar Allan Poe is, Wednesday. I meant what you were saying."

She looked away to the window, like eye contact then would have doomed her. "I'm not sure." It was a lie, and you knew it, but you couldn’t scan Wednesday’s thoughts and it was the first time she had let you stay propped up against her. You knew better than to ruin that.

"Why do you like that kind of poetry, anyhow? It's awfully depressing."

"It's a reminder," she replied, eyes still away and tone flat. "You and I will be in the ground someday, or maybe I will be in the family crypt. 'As you are now, so once, was I.' And other such ruminations. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust." Her gaze sliced back to you, as if she were gaging your reaction. "Either way, we're doomed."

You hadn't known what she meant by that, and you still didn't know, walking through the forest. She spoke in riddles, and it was impossible to know if she wanted you to decipher them or leave them as they were. Her vagueness with emotions was her armour, maybe.

Wednesday was usually cold and efficient and exact, in a way you could appreciate. You were far warmer, and though you seemed to constantly trip over yourself, patiently waiting for any sort of warmth to be returned, she stayed with the same chill that kept you close enough to bring comfort to her fingers, but never close enough to make her melt.

"When we get there, I want you to stay outside and keep watch. Don't come inside with me, I want to look around alone. If you hear anything or any noise or thoughts over the rain, give me the signal I trained you on," said Wednesday, looking through the bowers and thread veins of roots so as not to trip again.

"You're not my boss, Wednesday, and I'm not your henchman," you said, the words spilling out in annoyance. You hated when she went into work mode. She looked over at you, eyes giving an intense challenge.

"What am I then?"

You rolled your eyes at this. "Like my hobby, at best." It wasn't true, and both of you knew it.

"Do you kiss and sleep with all your 'hobbies,' then?" Wednesday's eyes studied you.

"Maybe," you shrugged. "I don't really kiss and tell." Actually, you hadn't kissed anybody since she had made out with you two days prior, and you hadn't kissed somebody other than her since she had first kissed you two months ago.

You knew, though, that Wednesday had done similar peregrinations with the normie boy, Tyler, from town who worked at the Weathervane. Sometimes you wondered if she put her lips on his, too. Other times, you couldn't help wondering if either of you really mattered to her.

She had said no when you asked her that once before, but slow danced and made out with you immediately after answering, at the Rave'N, so your confusion was understandable. It was like she both hungered for you and hated you for it at the same time, and you knew getting thrown around like that wasn’t what you wanted. But if it gave you her, even for a brief moment, you were all too eager.

From behind the both of you, you heard a branch snap, spinning around as the rain poured. There was nothing visibly there; your stupid flashlight didn't reach out that far and no moving through the brush could be heard. "Did you hear that?" you said to Wednesday, freezing completely. She nodded, but did not seem phased even slightly, turning to watch your terror with an eyebrow raised.

“Likely an animal," said Wednesday.

You were still frozen to the spot, staring into the dark as fear screamed at you to run away. “Are you okay?” she asked, puzzled.

You shook your head, sticking your hand out towards her. “No.” It was a question that needn't be asked. Wednesday examined your fingers closely, like she was contemplating if it was a bad idea, but then grabbed your palm and held it tightly in hers, locking the digits in with her own and squeezing it gently. It was an immediate comfort and you unfroze, Wednesday pulling you into the dark.

===+++===

"Your obnoxious coat is warm...thank you." She seemed to spit the last part out with a bit of reluctance, but you appreciated it nevertheless. For around the last half mile, you had been getting rained on instead. Droplets dripped from your hair, rolling down your cheeks and over your lips before dribbling from your chin.

"You can keep it for a while. Until you get your own, I mean," you said, absentmindedly playing with the flashlight. You would rather die than admit you were nervous aloud. Luckily, it didn't seem you needed to.

She stopped short at your words, grabbing your collar roughly with her hand and balling it between her fingers. It was harsh and it was passionate, like Wednesday always seemed to be in flares. Her mouth crashed into yours, teeth clinking together, toes poking into the mushy ground so she could even reach your face.

Unfortunately, it was over as soon as it began, and she pulled away quickly, walking away and leaving you behind, panting awkwardly as your mind began to spin. She was all too much, everything about her. You couldn’t stop yourself. "I love you,” you blurted out.

From the way she whipped back to you, it hadn’t been nearly quiet enough. Silence seemed to echo through the clearing, even in the raging storm around that pounded into trees and pooled in mushy puddles. She stared at you, and all you could do was stare back. Wednesday stomped back over, cheeks red and dark eyes shining with an unusual capriciousness. “What?”

You shook your head. “Nothing. Talking to myself.”

But she didn’t believe you. In previous attempts by you to draw out any indication of her affections, she could blatantly ignore it or change the subject without answering. Now, she was frustrated by how you always wore your heart on your sleeve. And this time, how your words demanded she do the same.

“What did you say,” she demanded. “Tell me right now, or I’ll-“

“I said I love you, Wends,” you cut her off before she could make a threat. God, she stared. She stared and stared and stared at you with her eyes in the dark, looking like she would be the one to read your mind and not the other way around. The humidity of the rain was suffocating you, but the powerful wind filled your lungs with air again, in a vicious, heaving cycle.

She took a small step forward, tilting her head up at you like she was inspecting you up close. “You don’t mean what you say.”

"I really wish I didn't, but I absolutely do." Your tone burned with a relieving candor, and Wednesday's eyebrows furrowed, before she backed away again. Your flashlight turned towards the ground, lowering your face into shadow.

"I told you, I don't want anything more from you," she said. "You're spoiling what we already have." She seemed more agitated than anything, but you stood your ground.

"But I feel like there's more here, Wednesday. I know I'm not crazy, you can feel it too. So I don't know why you're being all tough, when I just want to take care of you. That's all I've ever wanted."

"Learn to want for something else then," she argued back. "We can't work, we won't, I-"

"Why?"

"I told you why," she replied, crossing her arms. "Years of love-"

"No no, none of that bullshit you know you want to confuse me with. Just lay it out, plain and simple."

She bit her mouth shut, then narrowed her eyes at you before giving a huff. "Have you been reading my thoughts?"

"What?" Your forehead creased into lines, staring at her intently. "You know I don't."

"I don't know if you're aware, but I see you, in my visions sometimes. I actually think about the same one often, when I'm with you."

"What am I doing, then?" You asked, feeling a sickness come to your stomach. You didn’t know what future event you would be up to, but you could guarantee Wednesday you would stop yourself from hurting her.

“You’re being killed. By the beast.”

“…Oh.”

“You’re running far away, being chased. I see you get tackled or hit, and you fall into the dirt. Then I see your face being slashed over and over again by a creature, and you appear to bleed out on the floor of a forest.”

“Wednesday, that won’t come true.” You tried to assure her, but a small hand came forward, covering your mouth, shushing you. The gentle palm pressed against your soaked lips, fingertips ghosting the lines of your cheeks.

“I would hate you for it, dying. What I hate even more is that your closeness to me is likely what causes this. I don’t love you, (Y/n). I can’t. Stop trying to make me. It’s only pitiful and painful for the both of us.”

You reached up for her hand, pulling it away. “But how do you know it’s definitely you that ruins it? What if it’s something else, or what if it’s you saying no?”

“Because as painful as it is, I’m certain I break your heart if I indulge you.”

“Wednesday,” your voice shook a bit. “You’re breaking my heart right now.”

“This,” she said, “This is why I cannot give you more than I already have. I’m not my parents, (Y/n). Can’t you just be happy with our current relationship? You always try to complicate things. Like a stupid little puppy.”

You took a step back like a wounded animal. “What? You’re being mean.”

“Maybe if I am it'll get through to you. We won’t work, and if we don’t try to make it work, I won’t end up breaking your heart, and you won’t run away.” Her speaking volume was getting louder now.

“That’s a stupid plan!” You said raising your voice.

“And you’re a fool!” She said back. “I’m trying to protect you and take what I can get at the same time."

"You're hurting me."

"You're hurting yourself. I keep pushing you away. Stop coming back."

You frowned, feeling your face grow hot. "I come back because I care, and I know you care too."

"Caring for you gets me nowhere. You're doomed, (Y/n). I'm trying to protect you, so do us both a favour and get as far away from me as possible. Don't let me pull you back."

"Wednesday, I-"

"Go, you idiot." You swallowed her words. She was still wearing your yellow raincoat, looking at you with the most steely expression you had ever seen. You stepped forward in silence, only the mushing of the leaves filling the space between you. You unwrapped the armband of the flashlight from around your wrist and extended it out to her.

"Here. For the cave." She blinked at you, then she took it. Without another word, you did as you were told, stepping off into the dark and pulling against the magnetic field. With your ability to break past her facades turned off, you couldn't see the deep regret that wormed its way into her stare, watching your back retreat into the tree line.

===+++===

It only took around five minutes for you to regret not having the flashlight. The storm had turned to complete and utter chaos, and you could hear thunder and lightning booming and cracking against the night sky. Everything was so much darker than before, and it seemed to grow up and out like a giant ladder, turning to shadow and fog a few feet in front of you.

Part of you was still mad at Wednesday. Knowing she was scared for you didn't make it any of an easier pill to swallow. Neither did knowing you would likely die soon.

The looming question still sat unanswered, weighing down the wrinkles of your brain and cozying up at the mantle of your thoughts. Would it be weeks? Months? If she never ended up catching it (though that was very unlikely) how many years would you have left?

From behind you, you heard a branch snap again. You spun, looking around. An animal maybe. Then, you heard footsteps. They were big, though not an animal. Maybe it was Wednesday. She wore thick shoes often, with heavy soles.

It was only with the sudden realisation that there was no flashlight with the figure coming towards you, that your eyes began to widen and a chill shot up your spine like a spooked animal. It only took the dropping of your telepathic cancelling to fully realise what was about to happen.

KILL. KILL. KILL.

The monster's thinking was thunderous and loud, and it reverberated within your skull as you turned to run. You stomped your foot into the swampy ground, running the fastest you felt you ever had. KILL. The forest seemed to blur, rushing past you as you fled through the trees and smacking at branches that sagged in your way.

KILL. You heard the footsteps now, coming up quickly. They sounded huge, and with every bound you could hear greenery get smushed behind you as the beast moved through it. KILL. You had no idea how close it was behind you, but there was no time to look either. In one rush, you found yourself back in a stoney quarry, and in the far distance illuminated a KILL. streetlight standing over a mountain road.

You ran towards it, face scratched by a branch in the process as you forgot to swipe it away. The wood KILL. connected with a stabbing pain, piercing your lip as you ran, but you didn't so much as wince. "HELP!" You yelled KILL. out, trying to catch any attention as you ran for the pavement, and you were almost there. KILL.

You were too slow. A set of long, pointy claws latched onto your back, sinking into the skin and ripping you down with a yelp, throwing you to the ground. Your back slid into the tree with a sickening crack, and pain seemed to freeze your body. KILL.

Standing over you was the muscular, horrifyingly disfigured body of a towering creature, its eyes shining with violent zeal. It lowered with a clicking growl, eyeing your heaving, bleeding body and sneering. KILL. KILL. KILL.

Your eyebrows furrowed, blood spilling from your lips. In a single instant, you knew who it was, digging past the monstrous yells to the real thoughts of the boy underneath. "Tyler?"

Its claws sunk into your stomach, and everything went dark.

===+++===

a/n: a part two maybe? idk, i'm no rocket scientist. anyways, this is my very first post, so, here we go i guess? excited to start this and grateful for anyone who reads this. i tried to spellcheck but if it isn't perfect please please please let me know, i would fix it immediately.

[mapis-putellas]

𝑨 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕

Pairing: Alexia Putellas x reader

Words: 5.5k

Warnings: Mentions of throwing up. Panic attacks. I think that’s it.

Summary: Your time at Barça comes to an end.

Notes: I tried to add a little more detail to my writing, so I hope it turned out somewhat decent <3

[prompt list]

A lot of people have told her what it was like to truly be in love. To feel that spark, that infatuation and instant connection that has you feeling weak at the knees. But Alexia hadn't truly known what love was until she'd met you. Like, true, fulfilling, genuine love that was both so exciting and terrifying it felt like falling off a cliff with no idea how high it is or what was at the bottom.

You came into her life unexpectedly, a ray of sunshine; always shining bright and radiating both warmth and happiness wherever you went. You make everyone around you feel good without even trying, a trait most people in this world lacked due to no fault of their own. Wherever she turned, you were there, the smile on your face so genuine it was hard not to smile back.

She doesn’t quite know how to put into words just how much she loves you, but if she has to try, it was like being on the brink of something extraordinary every single waking moment. You make her feel adored and valued on the days where she can't even stand herself. You make her feel cherished, important, like the ground beneath her wouldn't cave in at any second.

It was like a rollercoaster ride all of the time. Some days were both thrilling and exciting, and some days it was both dizzying and terrifying. Sometimes it was so overwhelming she doesn’t quite know what to do with herself. What was was sure of though is she wouldn't want to do any of it by herself. You were her everything, and she was yours, and she wasn't going to let anyone or anything get in the way of that. Including the fact you were moving half way across the country to join Arsenal.

It had been on the first of the month that you'd told her. You had been quiet and withdrawn for the entirety of the day, only responding to her futile attempts at conversation with quiet hums and one word answers.

Alexia hadn't quite known what to do when you'd exited the car with a quiet request for some space. You barely even give her a chance to respond, grabbing your things from the trunk before disappearing into the apartment building. Alexia had waited what she'd thought was a good amount of time before making her way inside too, footsteps hesitant and a deep sense of unease filling her stomach. The apartment door was closed, just as she'd thought it would be, and she does everything possible to swallow back the inevitable tightness in her throat as she unlocks the door and makes her way inside.

As she sets down her things, she realises everything was so unnervingly quiet she could hear the sound of her own breath. It was loud, quick, so clearly full of anticipation she pauses for a second to get herself together. It wasn't like her to be so unsure of herself, not when she was around you. Not in the comfort of her own home where it had taken months for her to fully accept the fact that no matter what mood she was in or how bad her day had gone you'd always welcome her inside with open arms.

Even when you'd had a bad day you were always willing to be around her. Your smile, whilst a little sad, still so genuine it made her thank whoever was above for bringing you into her life. Not only were you always willing to put everybody above yourself, you did so without consideration of your own feelings.

Perhaps that was why the sense of impending dread was unlike nothing she'd ever felt before, because not once in this relationship had you ever pushed her away. Been so quiet and so unwilling to talk.

Accepting your need for space, she walks past the closed bedroom door and makes her way through to the kitchen. She stands in the middle of the room for a few unsure seconds before deciding to make a start on dinner. If you won’t talk to her, the least she could do was feed you. You always love her cooking no matter what she makes, and she hopes the comfort of a home cooked meal would help ease whatever upset you were feeling.

In the bedroom, you were laid on Alexia's side of the bed, your body curled up small and your head buried into her pillow. It was soaked with tears, the material uncomfortably sticking to the skin of your cheek.

You didn’t think the word pain quite gives the way you were feeling justice. Oh no. It quite literally felt like someone had ripped your heart out of your chest before trampling all over it and shoving it back in. You were leaving Barcelona. Leaving Alexia. The word pain couldn't even begin to describe just how absolutely devastated you felt.

The second you had found out they weren't signing you for another season, it was as though everything around you had turned fuzzy, almost like the feeling you get when your leg falls asleep. An emptiness had suddenly filled you and it was so profound it made your chest physically ache. You hadn't heard a single world Jona after the fact. It was as though your world had stopped and in a way, it had. Your life in Barca, with Alexia, was no longer, and you only had your self to blame.

You should have been better. Scored more. Not gotten so many yellow cards. Done something, anything, so they would like you better and want you to stay. And maybe had they told you before the transfer window had closed, you could have at least tried to change their minds. But they hadn't. They'd kept it to themselves until the last possible second and because of that, there was now absolutely nothing you could do to change it.

You were leaving, and you had no idea just how you were going to tell Alexia without tearing your heart completely in two. You could hear her, if you really focused. The sound of ceramic dishes hitting the table and the soft thuds of her feet as she walks. She was cooking dinner, just as she does most nights after you get home from training if you don't opt to order in.

Most nights, you'd been in the kitchen with her. Sometimes sat on the counter and sometimes stood behind her holding her body to your own. You'd steal small morsels of food of whatever she'd decided to make that day and you'd pout playfully when she'd scold you for doing so. You could only imagine just how clueless she feels in there by herself, not knowing what was wrong or how to help. It makes a part of you want to go sit with her, just for the company, but the thought of seeing that beautiful, oblivious face, so unaware of the news you held simply made you want to crawl into a hole and die.

You can’t face her. Not yet. Not ever if given the choice but that simply wasn't an option. Telling her was inevitable, and you just had to accept the fact she might hate you for it despite it being completely out of your control.

You have no idea just how long you end up laying here for before you hear the sound of two gentle knocks against your bedroom door. They were barely audible, and you take that as an almost cruel opportunity to pretend you hadn't heard them. The door opens anyway, the sound of it creaking a deathly loud noise in comparison to the quietness of the room.

"Amor?" Her voice was a quiet, tentative whisper sounding so unsure it has you screwing your eyes so tightly shut in a futile effort to prevent anymore tears from falling. "Amor," the same soft footsteps you'd heard earlier make their way closer to the bed. "I made you dinner."

Silence.

Alexia softly clears her throat. "It is Pasta. Your favourite." She trails off hopefully, and it takes everything in you to remain still. You can’t face her. Not yet. You weren't ready.

Alexia wrings her hands nervously as she takes another small step closer to the bed. "I..." she hesitates, scratching the inside of her wrist. "I do not know what happened. Will you please talk to me?"

More silence, and you'd never hated yourself more.

"I do not know what to do" Her voice audibly trembles making the tightness in your throat physically impossible to swallow back. You could feel your resolve wavering. Just because you couldn't tell her what was wrong right this second didn't mean you can't let her sooth you, right?

"Bebé?"

With a deep, shuddering breath, you use every ounce of strength within you to sit yourself up and face her. She was standing just a few feet away from the bed, toes scrunching and un-scrunching anxiously against the carpet. Her hands were clasped tightly around her shirt, wrinkling the material as she squeezes and twists.

But what breaks your heart the most was the wetness staining her cheeks. She was crying. Crying because of you. Because you were too much of a wimp to simply tell her what was wrong. The guilt you were already feeling amplifies by a thousand, and you were forced look away from her before you well and truly broke.

"Amor?" She whispers unsurely, and you sniffle softly as you wipe your sweaty hands on your pants before taking a deep breath. It was a futile effort at composing yourself, but you simply had nothing else left in you.

"Will you-"

"I don't want to talk about it. Not yet. I can't." you cut her off, and Alexia swallows heavily before nodding her head. The overwhelming sense of dread that had once faded makes an abrupt reappearance at your words, but she tries desperately not to let it show. If she pushed, you'd push back harder, and she'd never figure out what was going on.

"Okay." She accepts in a quiet whisper, unwilling to do anything that might upset you further.

You raise your eyebrows in disbelief. "Okay?"

She nods.

"Okay." You whisper with a quiet breath of relief.

"Will you come eat?" She asks hopefully after a few seconds of silence. "I made your favourite."

The thought of food alone made you feel so incredibly nauseous you were forced to swallow back a different kind of tightness in the back of your throat. It pains you to reject her again, but you just couldn't do it. Not without ending this already horrible day with your head stuck in the toilet.

You shake your head. "Ale, I'm not-”

"Just a few bites?" She pleads quietly, hesitantly. "For me?" She holds out her hand.

You look up at her. You take in her wet cheeks, the unsure body language and the trembling fingers. You'd put her through the wringer tonight without even trying, and it was clear to see she was desperate for some sort of normality. Despite everything in you screaming to say no, you find yourself standing up and taking her hand. You were barely on your feet for two seconds before she envelopes you completely in her arms, her chest flush against your own as your feet hang from the floor.

Your bottom lip wobbles as she buries her head against your neck, your head dropping to rest heavily against her shoulder. It takes you a few moments, but your arms do eventually find themselves wrapping securely around her shoulders. At the feeling of you returning the embrace, she drops an arm from around your waist and hooks it beneath your behind, bouncing you up slightly so your legs cold wrap around her waist.

"I am sorry." She whispers, the words taking a few moments to fully register in your grief ridden mind. The second they do, you lift your head off of her shoulder and reach your trembling hands up to coax her face away from your neck. You were glad to see she wasn't crying again, but you could tell by the shininess in her eyes that it was taking everything in her to hold the tears back.

"No," you shake your head, cupping her cheeks and wiping the pads of your thumbs to rid them of their wetness. Alexia blinks, and you catch the first tear that escapes before it could fall. "No," you repeat. "You don't have to be sorry. You've done absolutely nothing wrong. Nothing at all."

Alexia swallows.

"It's..." the tears you'd been trying to desperately to hold back break free, and you make no effort to wipe them away. "I'm not ready to talk yet, and I'm so, so sorry that means you're being kept in the dark. I just need...a few hours. Just a few hours to process and then we'll talk, okay? I promise."

Alexia looks even more terrified as her grip loosens just slightly. "Are you...are you bre-"

"No." You're aware of how panicked you sound, but you needed the message to get through to her before she could fully mistake her assumptions for the truth. "No. I'm not. Not now. Not ever. I could never...no."

Her grip tightens around you again, and you let out a relieved sounding sob as you fall limp against her. You feel one of her hands lift to rest against the back of your head, and for a second, you allow to yourself to break; for her to comfort you, because after hearing what you had to say, it could be the last time she ever does so.

Alexia doesn't think she's ever felt more useless in her entire life as she holds you close, her throat burning, threatening the onslaught of tears. Something serious was going on. There has to be. She's never seen you this upset before, not even when you'd done your acl just a few months after she'd done hers. You'd been upset then sure, but you'd never shed more than a single tear in the year it had taken to get back on the pitch, and that year had been hell for both of you.

Tightening her grip around you, she turns in place and makes her way through to the kitchen. The two plates of pasta were just as she'd left them, though she suspected they'd long gone cold now. Knowing you wouldn't be able to eat despite saying that you would try and not particularly caring about her own meal, she passes the kitchen table and makes her way over to one of the free spaces left on the countertop.

She purposely ignores the burning in her arms as she eases you down and settles herself between your legs, feeling the way your crossed feet settle against her backside as her arms secure themselves tightly around your back. You were still in her arms, thankfully no longer crying if the lack of tears against her neck was anything to go by. It allows Alexia to relax momentarily for she knows things would sure turn south once you reveal what was making you so upset.

You pull away a few moments later, sniffling softly as Alexia tenderly cups your cheeks to wipe away the wetness staining them. You lean into her touch, eyes fluttering shut when she leans in and presses a lingering kiss to your forehead.

"I love you." She murmurs against the warm skin, and you're forced to once again swallow back your emotions as you take her wrists and press a soft kiss to the inside of them both.

"I love you." The unsteadiness of your voice was obvious, and you're grateful when Alexia makes no attempt at pointing it out. She leans in and kisses you, tasting the saltiness of your tears, and your hands desperately cup her face, not allowing her to pull away. Alexia's hands grasp your sides as she deepens the kiss just slightly, feeling the soft exhale you breath out through your nose against her skin. When you pull away, your eyes were closed, and Alexia takes this as her chance to really take you in.

Your expression gives absolutely nothing away. Nothing at all. Her gaze was still on you when your eyes finally open, brown irises full of an emotion you couldn't quite decipher. You tilt your head to the side, a silent question to which she nods in response to. Seconds later, the look in her eyes changes. Now, they were light, hopeful, willing for you to open up and trust her and god did you so badly want to.

"I am going to make you a smoothie." She breaks the silence, her hands giving your thighs a soothing squeeze as she steps out of your hold and makes her way over to your refrigerator. You watch her retreating figure as you let out a soft sigh. You still didn’t think you could stomach anything, but the thought of a smoothie was admittedly more appetising than cold pasta. You felt a little bad that the meal she’d cooked you had gone to waste, but seeing as though Alexia doesn't mind, you try not to either.

Alexia's eyes skim the contents for a few moments before she pulls out a few different fruits she knew were your favourite. She sets them down onto the counter next to you before heading to the sink and thoroughly washing her hands, allowing the water to run a little hotter than appropriate in a futile effort at feeling something other than complete and utter dread.

It doesn't work, and as she dries her hands, she wonders just how much longer she would be able to last before she inevitably breaks and begs for you to tell her what was going on. When she'd torn her acl, the fear she'd felt about not being able to play the sport she loved more than anything else in this world pained her more than she could even begin to explain. But the fear of losing you was a tenfold to that. Because yes, football was her world, but you were her entire universe so feeling this dread, this uncertainty and uneasiness was so, so much worse.

Softly clearing her throat, she forces a smile into her face and makes her way back over to you. You were in the exact same position, though now you were staring at her with pity. It makes her bristle just slightly, but she forces herself not to react as she grabs the blender out of the cupboard and plugs it into the wall.

The process of making both smoothies was done in silence. Alexia doesn't say a word, and neither do you. Soon, Alexia was back between your legs, a small glass in her hand that held the contents of your smoothie. You don't let yourself hesitate as you gently take it from her, bringing it to your lips for cautious sip. When it doesn't seem as though your stomach would reject it, you allow yourself a proper mouthful, a hum of content falling from your lips as you swallow.

"Good?" Alexia murmurs as her hands retake their place on each of your thighs, squeezing the flesh softly before her palms begin tracing gentle circles against the soft skin. You nod your head, holding the glass up to her lips despite the fact she had her own smoothie just next to you. The blonde smiles as she allows you to feed her, swallowing with a hum of content similar to your own.

You take turns in sipping both the smoothies until they were gone, Alexia setting the glasses into the sink to be washed later before scooping you back up into her arms. You welcome the closeness by allowing her to carry you through to the living room without complaint, her larger frame beneath your own as she settles comfortably on the couch. She says nothing as she slips her hands beneath your shirt to rest on the small of your back, the tips of her pinkies tracing over the dimples at the bottom of your spine, but you can tell by the look in her eyes alone that there was so much she wants to say.

It had barely even been an hour since she'd brought you out of your room, and whilst you still weren't ready to talk, you knew leaving her in the dark for any longer would be unnecessarily cruel. Unsure on whether or not she'd even want you near her when you found the courage to reveal the news, you slip off of her lap and perch on the edge of the coffee table instead, making a futile effort at avoiding eye contact as you wipe your suddenly sweaty hands off on your shorts.

You hear Alexia shift forward slightly until her knees brush against your own, her hands reaching forward to rest on either of your thighs. Your own hands circle her wrists, feeling the steady, consistent pounding of her pulse beneath the tips of your fingers. She doesn't force you to talk. She simply sits and waits, her presence alone a major comfort in a moment so anxiety inducing you felt as though you were only seconds away from throwing up.

A single drop of grief wells up in the corner of your eye as you swallow heavily, the small droplet of salty water streaming down your cheek leaving a tickling sensation in its wake. The blonde opposite you remains silent, but her hands slip down to the skin behind your knees, tugging them a little firmer against her own. Knowing it was now or never, you force yourself to make eye contact.

"I'm leaving Barça." Your voice was emotionless.

Alexia blinks as her hands freeze mid stroke against your thighs. "Qué?”

You swallow. "They didn't resign me for another season. I'm moving to Arsenal." The words felt like vomit on your tongue.

Alexia could do no more than stare as she feels the room begin to tilt around her, every sound becoming no more than a muffled echo. Her heart feels as though it had gotten stuck, each beat a sharp jab against her chest. Her mouth parts, but no words seem to be able to escape. She simply sits. Frozen. Like her entire body had forgotten how to move.

Your hands tighten around her wrists as the world around you blurs with the onslaught of tears. "I'm sorry," you choke out. "They only told me today and I...I don't want to go. I don't want to leave you." Panic gnaws at the edges of your mind when Alexia remains silent. "Say something. Please." The desperation in your voice was evident.

Alexia shakes her head as if trying to shake off the reality that was suddenly crashing down around her, her hands lifting off of your thighs and visibly trembling. She clenches them into tight fists, a futile effort for control as her gaze darts unsteadily around the room.

"I..." she has no idea what to say.

“Alexia?” You plead.

Nothing.

You feel an overwhelming urge to flee beginning to fester in the back of your mind as your hands tightly clutch the material of your sweater. Alexia's knees were still pinned on either side of your own, halting your inevitable escape. You were trapped by her, both physically and emotionally, and the longer she remains silent, the more your panic begins to build.

Your leg begins to bounce on its own accord; your heart races and it feels as though you weren't getting enough air into your lungs. A spiral of panicked thoughts keep repeating themselves, becoming more and more insistent as the minutes pass. Alexia hates you. Alexia was going to leave you. Oh god. Nausea swirls in your gut. You can't breath. Are you dying? You're dying. You have to be dying. Why can't you breath? Panicked eyes search the room for an exit. The front door. The back door. Which was closer? You didn't know. But you had to get out. You had to go.

A gentle, unsteady hand cupping your cheek startles you, and your head whips round so quickly you almost give yourself whiplash. Alexia was staring at you, eyes wide in alarm. Her lips were moving. But you couldn't hear her voice. Couldn't make out what she was saying. Why couldn't you hear what she was saying?

You feel your body move, steady hands beneath your armpits. They support the entirety of your weight as you were lifted slightly into the air. Strong, familiar thighs were soon beneath your own, your heaving chest pressed flush against Alexia's. She wraps her arms so tightly around your midsection you have no choice but to mimic her breaths. They were steady, consistent. You choke out a pathetic sounding sob as your heart continues to pound, your body unintentionally fighting her own.

But her grasp was tight. So tight you could feel nothing but her. She begins to rock. Back and forth. Back and forth. The motion was steady. Repetitive. You feel your chest loosen. Just slightly. Enough for you to breath. To get some much needed air into your lungs. The white noise in your ears begins to fade. You could hear again. Alexia was talking. In Spanish. You couldn't really understand what she was saying. But her tone was soft. Soothing. Warm. The pounding in your heart slows, and you can breath again.

You no longer felt like you were dying. Everything was quiet. Calm.

Alexia's body stills as your desperate grasp around her shirt loosens, your head falling heavily against her shoulder. Her lips press against your neck, dotting gentle kisses over the soft expanse of warm skin. You shudder a little at the sensation as you hunch your shoulders up to your ears, hearing Alexia huff out a quiet sound of amusement as she halts her affectionate attack. You feel her hands rest on each of your hips, squeezing softly before easing you away from her. When your eyes meet her own, you could clearly tell she'd been crying.

And Alexia had been.

It had taken a little while to gather her thoughts -and to get over the curveball that had been thrown her way- but eventually, Alexia had come to the quite obvious realisation that just because you wouldn’t be in the same country anymore didn’t mean your relationship was over. Long distance sucks, but it was possible, and there were many cases where it had been quite successful. Take Ona’s girlfriend, Lucy, for example. Lucy had left Barça nearly four months ago, and both she and Ona were closer than ever. Yes, being apart would be difficult. She was fully aware of that fact. But doesn’t the saying go, distance makes the heart grow fonder?

"That was a bad one, huh?" She murmurs as she presses her forehead against her own, and you could do no more than nod. Panic attacks weren't uncommon for you, but rarely does it get to the point where Alexia has to intervene anymore thanks to years of therapy. You'd learnt to anticipate the usual warning signs allowing you to talk yourself out of one before it could even begin, but that evidently hadn't been the case today for obvious reasons.

"Was it because of me?" Her hands cup your cheeks, thumbs wiping away the wetness beneath your eyes. Her touch was so gentle you could barely feel it.

You shrug noncommittally as you harshly wipe off your cheeks. "Not really."

"Not really?" She raises an eyebrow, and you sigh lightly as you tuck a damp strand of hair behind your ear.

"I just..." you trail off. "I guess I just panicked. You wouldn't answer me and my mind just jumped to the worst case scenario." You admit, hating the fact you were once again so close to tears.

Alexia's eyebrows furrow in confusion as she loops her arms around your waist. "What do you mean?"

"I told you...I told you I was leaving, and you didn't say anything. My mind jumped to the conclusion that that was because you hated me and never wanted to see me again." Voicing your thoughts out loud made them sound stupid, and you worry now that maybe you'd majorly overreacted.

Alexia doesn't seem to have the same concern.

"Amor, you really think that little of me?" She sounds more hurt than she does mad, and the guilt hits you like a punch in the stomach. You immediately shake your head as you attempt to amend the situation.

"Of course not," you insist. "But I panicked. As I said, worst case scenario.”

Alexia releases her hold on you for a short second as she rubs her hands over her face.

You can't help but frown. "Ale, I'm so-"

Alexia cuts you off cupping your cheeks and kissing you fiercely. It quite literally takes your breath away, and you have absolutely no time to reciprocate before she was pulling away.

"I love you," your mouth parts to say it back, but Alexia shakes her head, resting her pointer finger against your lips. You gently kiss the digit, lips quirking up into a small smile when Alexia plainly pokes your nose.  "I love you, and whilst I am so incredibly sad you are going to be leaving, it is not forever. I will visit you, you will visit me.”

"But it won't be the same." Your voice was a broken whisper.

Alexia clears her throat softly as her eyes grow shiny with tears. "I know," she murmurs, taking both your hands in her own and squeezing softly. "But we will get through this, sí? You are strong, and I am strong. We will be strong together until we are no longer apart."

"Strong together." you mimic, and Alexia nods with a sad smile on her face. You attempt to mimic that too, but you find it difficult to do thanks to the way your bottom lip was trembling. The first tear falls before you could stop it, and Alexia blows out a shaky breath as she pulls you back into her arms.

Yeah, this was going to suck.

*

So yeah. Alexia loves you so terrifyingly much that she was willing to risk your relationship by being approximately nine hundred and twenty nine miles apart. You had faith you would be just fine, but a small part of you, way way deep down was sure it would end up crashing and burning right in front of your eyes. Long distance relationships were hard, and yes, you loved each other, but would that really be enough in the long run? Would love really be enough to survive who knows how many years apart with only the occasional visit until your contract at Arsenal ended?

You'd voiced your worries to Alexia who had been quick to assure you that whilst your fears were valid, they were wrong. That it was just your brain, again, jumping to the worst case scenario because you were anxious about leaving. She'd assured you that love was most definitely enough, so long as you communicated with one another which was something you were both thankfully pretty damned good at.

From that moment forward, you make the most of what time you have left together. You go on dates that last all day, visiting all the places in Barcelona you’d fallen in love with. You spend hours in bed, skin against skin as your favourite movie plays in the background. You even make the drive over to Alexia’s childhood home and spend the day with her family as one final farewell.

Your team was told about your transfer just two weeks before you leave, tearful hugs being shared with the ones you were most close to. Mapi had all but clung to you throughout the entirety of your last training session, Ingrid having to coax her into letting go when it was time to head back home.

You play your last game a few days later, playing the entire ninety minutes and scoring three goals with the assistance of Aitana. When the whistle had blown, your entire team had surrounded you, murmuring their praises and pulling you into hugs so tight you struggled to catch your breath. You tightly clutch the crest on your chest as your eyes skim around the arena, meeting the tearful yet smiling faces of the fans who were cheering so loudly for you it was the only sound you could hear.

This was it. Your time at Barça was over, and what a ride it had been.

**

Tags:

@codiemarin @goldenempyrean @girlgenius1111 @ceesimz @liloandstitchstan @xxnaiaxx @marysfics @alexias-putellas

[personasintro]

Romance Is Not Dead | jjk

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; it’s valentine's day and you're single

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: brother's best friend!jungkook x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, angst (?)

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, mentions of sex (it's mentioned quite a lot), reader's brother is kinda dick, alcohol usage, men (that deserves a warning alright), drunk people (it's a party), angst (?) honestly I'm not sure if there's any angst but it's a story with a few realistic topics that are kinda sad if you think about it, it's not your average fluff story lol

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.7k+

a/n: happy valentine's day! mind you this was supposed to be a short drabble like around 2k lol, I had no proper idea of where this will go and somehow I ended up with quite a long story haha. but I'm happy I got more into writing, I wasn't expecting writing this much. if there are any mistakes, please ignore them hehe. I rushed to post it so I could make it on february 14th. I don't know what even is this story but i hope you enjoy it hahah don't forget to like and reblog ♡

“Argh! Who even invented Valentine's Day?”

The groan that leaves your mouth – or more like a loud complaint – rolls around the room, not stopping you from tossing your bag on the kitchen's table to show your annoyance more than actual anger.

“Hello to you too, sis.” Your brother throws a peace sign your way, not particularly fazed by the lack of greeting on your side.

From your peripheral vision you could easily tell they're right there. Your brother and his best friend have been best friends since high school, they go way back and somehow, they've managed to stay super close till now. It's quite admirable, you have to admit. You don't think you've ever seen or heard them fight. Overall, their friendship seems to be more relaxed in this sense than most girls' friendships.

Yes, that mostly happens between guys. They're not as dramatic or bitchy as some girls can be. God. None of your current friends are your friends from high school. You've parted ways eventually.

However, the amount of drama free that's clearly not present in their precious brotherhood is equalized with loud burps, unfiltered talks about girls and sex through male eyes. You would've mentioned farting but luckily, you haven't heard your brother's best friend to be that nasty in front of you. Which can't be said about your brother but well, that's a part of having a sibling – regardless of their gender.

It's quite cliché.

Your brother's older, therefore he's protective yet loves to embarrass you at any chance. He thinks he's all that and sometimes, it feels like he thinks he's your third parent. That's what's more annoying – perhaps even more than overrated Valentine's Day. 

“Did someone decline you on Valentine's Day?”

There he goes again.

Teasing you. It's a never-ending circle. Luckily, you've grown resistant to his pathetic attempts to embarrass you – especially when his friends are present. Yeah, your brother can be a dick and you're not afraid to tell him.

Though, you don't stick to the names and curses and instead turn it into something more powerful. 

Scoffing, you swipe your hair back and give him a look. “Please, look at me.”

“I am, that's why I asked.” 

You waste no time in grabbing one of the stupid empty cans he always has laying around and throw it at him. Did you mention he can be a pig sometimes?

Your aim has gotten way better throughout the years and when he curses at you once it hits the side of his head, you smile happily. His friend chuckles at the two of you, lifting the can that has fallen onto the floor and sets it on the table.

“Yeah, and that's why you chase every man that comes my way.” you comment, knowing well damn you're right. 

He frowns, “Those men can hardly be called men, sis.”

“Well, bro, I wouldn't know since you like to be the pain in my ass.” you smile at him tightly, seeing him looking before he goes back to playing one of his stupid video games. “Not that I have a man to look up to in the first place.”

They've been doing that a lot. Lame. 

His best friend's snort turns into a laughter that he barely gets to hold in. That makes you smile because you see it as a success in getting back at your brother. And perhaps your little crush you've had on him has something to do with it. But we don't talk about it.

Your brother glares at him but he's not affected, not even a bit. It's hard to put it into words or make any definition, but he's always been slightly more… intimidating? He has an aura around him that makes you appreciate even a little reaction from him. 

It's humorous. You've known him for years, merrily just from always seeing him next to your brother (because there were never other opportunities), yet it feels like you barely know anything about him. Even though he used to occupy your living room almost every day. And today doesn't feel much different. The only difference is that none of you live at your parents' house. 

“Who hurt you today?”

“Don't be a dick. I can be a bitch too.” you remind him sweetly, leaning forward against the kitchen counter and grab a grape that lays in a single bowl. Probably the only healthy thing he has in this kitchen. 

He flips you off and frowns once he doesn't win the game. Karma. “Anyway, are you gonna tell us why you came here so annoyed or you're gonna eat?”

“I can do both,” you shrug. “I just don't get the hype about Valentine's Day.”

“Oh, you asked who invented it? Probably a pair of groupies in love.”

You roll your eyes, “I don't think that's it.”

“It's about romance. It's romantic, sis.”

You snort, “And how would you know anything about romance?”

He chuckles cockily as if the next words he says is something to be proud about; “I don't. But the girl I fucked said something about it.”

“Ew!” you gag, stopping yourself from reaching for another grape. “You're gross sometimes.”

“You don't talk about sex with your friends? C'mon, it's normal.”

“Yeah, with my friends. Not in front of you.” you justify. 

“Jesus, we didn't have to hear that.” Your brother scolds you, clearly uncomfortable at the thought of you talking about sex. 

You sometimes make sex jokes in front of him just to mess with him. It's pretty funny and it never gets old. You don't do it often though, but perhaps you should. 

“I hear only you complaining.” you sign out, pointing out the obvious and for the first time since you've arrived, you give proper attention to his best friend. 

He's been awfully quiet. What's there for him to say anyway? You and your brother bicker most of the time, no matter how old you are. He's pretty much used to it by now. He just stuck to playing the game and other than cackling at your previous comment, he's been quiet. You hate that you're slightly annoyed by the lack of attention he gives you. Not that you're an attention seeker or desperate for his attention.

It doesn't take a genius to figure out he sees you as his best friend's little sister. Even though you're not as little as when he first met you. 

“JK is the last person who wants to hear your complaints.”

“Why don't you let JK speak for himself?” you question, a little edge to your tone as your brother huffs out, muttering something under his breath – obviously aimed at you.

“Chill out, you two.” he mutters, voice slightly deeper than you remember it even though the last time you've seen him was last month. It has a little rasp to it and you wish your eyes wouldn't glue to him automatically. 

He lays comfortably on the couch, man spreading with a game controller sitting in his lap while his big thumbs rest comfortably against the buttons. You might've mentioned you are not friends with people from a high school anymore, but you have friends. One who would kill for a moment to spend with your brother's best friend. Just to be in his close proximity.

Though, it's no secret he's not any better than most guys his age – including your own brother. In a weird way, you love your brother (even though you wouldn't probably ever say it out loud because he's a weirdo and he would just make fun of you), but you can easily tell he's not someone you would ever want to end up with. Personality and morally wise, of course. 

He surrounds himself with people with the same values, or the lack of. 

And perhaps, it's one of the reasons why you suddenly got annoyed because of today's day. February 14th. You're the type that simply brushes off any guy who comes your way that you don't have any interest in. There's no need for your brother. He's a dick and he chases the ones that might not be husband material, but they're hot and charming. You're not necessarily looking for a marriage. God. You're too young. You don't want to be the one that gets locked in a marriage with someone they just met. 

Definitely you don't want to get knocked up either. Fuck, they're so many scenarios that run inside your head. Ones you don't want to live in. 

Regardless of your current stance when it comes to your life and relationships, you're still romantic. All of your friends have dates today. Any other day or year, you wouldn't even think of it – but you've seen everything in the shape of a heart today. Not mentioning there's everyone kissing and hugging at every corner of the street. 

And you didn't get a discount on your cake because you were alone with no partner around. Who does that? That's discrimination!

Valentine's Day is overrated. Maybe you think that way because you're single. Have been for too long. And while you don't necessarily miss it, you kind of crave for someone's affection and touch. It's not even about sex. 

“Listen, we're having a party tonight. I wouldn't normally invite you–”

“Wow, thanks.”

He shoots you a glare again before he continues, “But seeing you so miserable, maybe you could come too.”

“Party? Is this another one of your gangbang parties?”

“I have never been a part of that, stop calling my parties that.”

“There are literally hundreds of people who are there to hook up.” you inform him.

He snickers, “That's like every party.”

You lift up your eyebrows, not quite believing him. It's like every party he hosts or is invited to. People his age make parties slightly less wild. Not that he's too old but still. He's acting and living too wild for his age. 

“I'm not hosting it.”

“Who is?”

“JK here.” His brother says, head motioning toward the man next to him. “I'm sure you don't mind that I'm inviting her.”

The said man looks at his brother, shrugging. “I don't.”

“Well?” Your brother looks back at you. “Are you coming?”

“Are you gonna chase everyone that comes my way? Y'know, my friends are all having dates and if I don't wanna spend tonight alone, I would rather have fun.”

“You're allowed to come. And yeah, probably I will.”

“You're a douche. I'm an adult, stop treating me like a child.”

Your brother sighs, already knowing what argument is about to come. It's about the same stuff every time. 

“I'm doing it for your own good. The people that are gonna be there, guys that are gonna be there are like us, sis.”

There's a certain softness behind his voice, though it still stays vigorous as if he's trying to get something through your thick head. You know all of that, though. You know he doesn't hang out with the best people. But they're just dicks. And they're thinking with dicks. But you can take care of yourself. Besides, he's going to be there as well. 

JK, or Jungkook like you refer to him in your head, briefly looks at you. But you spot it and stare at him as his eyes drift to your brother. “You can't protect her forever.”

“That's something an asshole would say.”

“I never said I'm not one. But let her have her fun.”

“You know what? Don't come. I don't want you there.” Your brother stands up and shoots you a glare before he walks away. 

God! He's such a dick!

JK chuckles and you realize you've been frowning this whole time. You hear the door slam close and you scoff. “He's such a child.”

You eye him with no embarrassment whatsoever, tracing all the tattoos he has gotten throughout the years. The white shirt fits his torso perfectly, even though it's oversized his muscles peak through. 

Your friend told you he's at the gym almost every day. It sure looks like that. 

He suddenly stands up and you straighten automatically, watching him make his way toward you but not before tossing the game controller on the couch. He stays on the other side of the table, reaching for one of the grapes while still staring at you. 

God. He's doing something purposely.

For the first time today, your confidence slightly falters but you do your best not to show it. You stare as he pops one of the grapes into his mouth and chews on it. 

“You're still invited. That's if you still wanna come.”

You blink, “But my brother–”

“Is like a child sometimes. You're gonna be fine there.”

Gulping, you mutter; “How are you so sure?”

He doesn't answer but there's a small smirk playing on his lips. “You would still come, wouldn't you? Just to piss him off.”

That causes you to let out a soft chuckle because yes, he's right about that. Your brother needs to understand you're not a child. “I would.”

“Alright, then come.”

You poke the inside of your cheek with your tongue and lift your brow, “I will.”

You will go to the party. Even if your brother would burn down the city.

One of the few things you've learned about your brother's best friend – Jungkook – is that he comes from a wealthy family. You know he got his own place in the city center, that alone tells you he's got money. Whether they come from his parents or by his own hard work is unknown to you. Either way, it's quite clear he's always been slightly privileged than most kids your age.

You've never been to his parents' house. There was never a reason for you to go there, plus, you're not your brother and he didn't exactly bring his little sister with him whenever he went somewhere. The only time he would have to spend time with you alone was when he had to babysit you. But you would always stay home and he would let you know how annoyed he is because of that.

A typical teenager who wanted to chase girls and experience his first hook-ups rather than having to babysit his little sister who was born with sharp tongue and big mouth. You're probably his karma for all the hearts he already managed to break. 

Anyway – you know JK's parents' house is settled up the hill, away from the city and in a rich area where all the big houses were built. You've never seen it, hence your first reaction when you spotted a huge gate and a house that looks more like a mixture between mansion rather than a small family house.

Before he parted ways a few hours ago when you last saw him, he gave you the address. Seems like you've arrived just in time. There are many people, outside and inside – everywhere. It looks like the college parties you get to see in movies but more upgraded.

The thing about you is that you would never go to a party alone. Even if two people you know are here. Well, your brother still doesn't know you're here and he's about to get pissed once he sees you. Suddenly, the idea to piss him off doesn't seem so alluring.

But this house – or mansion or whatever this building is called – is the only place that is not filled with heart balloons. They might be couples and strangers that are glued to each other, the romance is simply not present. It's nasty and explicit to a certain extent. 

A part of you is disgusted at how easy some people seem to be, letting themselves to be groped by strangers, but there's something alluring. Perhaps even more than doing this just to prove a point to your brother. 

You don't get a chance to look around the place, since it's crowded and you're trying not to get shoved into, you're looking for a bigger space and maybe something to drink. You make it into the main room it seems. A huge couch in the shape of U looks massive but it fits into the big room perfectly. There are people everywhere and there's not a single space on the couch. However, once you make it closer and spot a tiny space, it's all forgotten and your vision naturally travels to the couple sitting there. 

You would spot those tattoos everywhere.

Jungkook's there. And a woman sitting on his lap as you see them making out explicitly, tongues brushing against each other. Alright, a part of you envies the woman but looking around and seeing more of them staring in slight irritation and jealousy, you're not alone. You scrunch your nose at them not caring and just making out with each other in front of everyone. There's no way they don't know everyone's eyes are on them. The guys ignore them though. It's mostly women.

The one that sits on his lap and seems to be ready to jump his bones, is wearing a tiny top and mini skirt. You can see her panties and you feel embarrassed to witness the tiny piece of underwear. Well, she doesn't seem to care.

His hand is on her waist, gripping it tightly as he pulls away and mutters something into her lips. She giggles, all her attention focused on him. 

Despite knowing him for years, you've never seen him in this element. And maybe that's what your brother didn't want you to see. Not even Jungkook but everyone here. You've witnessed a few parties, but this one is completely on another level. It looks straight out of a movie and perhaps completely out of your comfort zone. 

But you don't leave. You stick in your spot and just stare at your brother's best friend flaunting his charm all around him, but mostly aimed at the woman on his lap. 

Since your brother that eventually came out of the bathroom told you to get out, you've decided to come after all and give him a taste of his own medicine. Maybe not exactly the same but that's why you chose one of your tight dresses. They're not special. Just a dress that almost every woman owns. But this one has thin straps and you don't get to wear a bra in it, that's how tight it is. It's the only clothing you're wearing, minus the panties of course. 

You look good. You know you do and that's why you chose this outfit particularly. You thought the heels are perhaps too much, but luckily you opted for them instead of your sneakers. Everyone seems to be dressed like they're in a club. Not even one outfit on a woman here looks completely comfortable. And they show more skin when they wear clothing. Not that you're judging. You're not the one to talk.

And you know this choice of clothing is not only a magnet for eyes, but for unwanted touches you were counting on eventually. It's sad but it's the truth. That's why you never come alone to these things. You always have your friends with you. You would kick asses for each other and overall, you feel more protected and safe. 

The hand that slaps your ass – that definitely looks good in this dress – causes you to turn and twist your face in anger. You spot a wasted man that smiles stupidly as if he did something cute. You shove him in the chest causing him to stumble into a few people who start to curse at him and complain.

“Touch me one more time and I will fucking kick your ass.” you spit at him. 

Your ass might look good but that's not an open invitation for strangers or anyone to touch you unwillingly. 

He gains his balance and his drunk features twist into anger. You see it. He's angry because you're not all over his dick because he touched you. First of all, he's not even hot. And he's wasted out of his mind. There's nothing hot about it. 

He doesn't make it too close because you push him again, causing him to fall this time.

“You bitch!” he yells, having a trouble to stand up and you cover your mouth to shield the giggle that makes it out. 

One of the guys that he stumbled into turns around, ready to curse. But as your eyes lock, all the amusement fades away and your eyes widen in a sudden fear. Shit.

It takes a moment for your brother to register that it's you – perhaps the exposed skin causes him to widen his eyes too before they twist into anger.

“What the fuck.”

“I was invited.” you automatically argue, yelping once he makes his way toward you and grabs you by your forearm. He kicks the bastard that still tries to stand up and starts leading you elsewhere. No, he's not leading you but dragging you with him.

It's not the initial reaction you had in mind. You wanted to smirk, to show him that you're here and there's nothing you can do about it. But that's out of the picture because in the end, you're just a little girl that maybe loves to piss off her brother, but once you truly piss him off you back away.

That realization causes your anger to come back and you dig your heels into the wooden floor, trying to get out of his hold. “Stop squeezing me like that!”

“Would you like to be squeezed by strangers?!” He yells over the music, both of you stopping next to a staircase.

It already happened, you wanted to say but decide to stay quiet.

He couldn't see what the stranger did to you. He only saw the man falling and stumbling into him. So the fact that he's this pissed off to see you here without even seeing what happened just minutes ago, makes you think he needs a psychiatrist. What would he do if he saw what happened?

“Maybe I want that!” you yell at him. “And there's nothing you can do about it!”

He pinches the bridge of his nose and tries to calm down. “What are you doing here.”

“I told you. I was invited.”

“I uninvited you.”

You scoff, “It's not your party, you moron.”

“JK invited you?”

“Yeah.” you shrug just to piss him off some more.

He stares at you for a moment, glaring but you glare back before he shakes his head and takes a deep breath. “Fine. But you're not leaving my side.”

You scoff but he grabs your shoulders tightly. 

“I mean it.”

“Stop touching me.” You slap his hands away, his touch fading away as you're about to open your mouth to curse at him some more.

Before you can do it, someone nudges him from the left side. Your brother is about to pounce but once he sees his best friend in the flesh, he stays down but not before he's reminded of what you told him. 

“What are you doing.” He questions your brother but he just scoffs in return.

“You invited her?”

Jungkook rolls his lip piercing as he shrugs, “I did.”

“Are you out of your mind?”

“Me? You invited her first if I recall.” 

Your brother stares at his friend in disbelief before he glances at you. You shrug, lifting your brown. 

“You two are fucking unbelievable.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, probably thinking your brother is just dramatic. Which he is. While they're too busy arguing, you don't pay attention to anything that's being said. You shamelessly eye Jungkook, spotting how blurry his lips are from the make out session you witnessed a while ago. He's got a similar outfit like you've seen him during the day. The only difference is that he's wearing all black. 

“Listen you two, I will stay out of your sight, okay?”

“No fucking way!” Your brother argues while Jungkook sighs in exhaustion. 

“I'm just gonna have a few drinks and meet new people.”

“These people are not for you to meet or be friends with.”

“Who said anything about being friends?” you mutter, causing your brother to curse at you once more.

“No–” He stops you before you can interrupt him, “You invited her, so you will look after her.”

“Me?” JK frowns, disliking the idea. While you would be slightly offended by the lack of interest when it comes to you, you're also irritated that your brother here is acting the same. Only this time he's giving the responsibility to Jungkook. 

“Yes, you! You invited her, so you'll watch over her tonight. If anything happens to her, I will personally kill you,” 

God. He's so full of himself. If Jungkook wanted, he could knock him out with one punch. But you don't say it to hurt his male ego and boost Jungkook's one. It seems they're full of ego. 

“And I'm not joking.”

He brushes past you two and leaves angrily. To probably shove his tongue down to any first girl he sees. 

And from the looks of it Jungkook looks like he would rather much do the same. But then he looks at you, reminded of his current responsibility. You. 

“Listen–you don't have to look after me–I can handle my–”

“Are you okay?”

“What?”

He stares you down, not in the creepy way to stare at your body but almost looking for anything that could give him answers to his question.

“I've seen what happened.”

“You've seen it?” you breathe out, “I'm fine.”

“You sure?”

“I handled it.” you grit through your teeth.

“You did,” he agrees much to your surprise. “Or maybe you were just lucky.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” You trash with your hands, but he catches your wrist. Gently. But he has his hold on you and your breath catches in your throat. He pulls you closer.

“What if it was someone who wouldn't be so wasted? Hm?”

You gulp, glancing at his lips for a split second before you find his dark eyes on yours. “It happened with people around us. Someone would step in.”

He scoffs, “Don't count on it too much.”

“They would–”

“Some of them. Not all of them,” he informs you. 

You're reminded that he knows these parties. He knows how it's going. And while no one would mess with him personally, it doesn't mean everyone is as safe as him. Let alone any women. That much you've realized and you haven't even been here for a half an hour. 

“What if he waited until you're drunk to take you somewhere else?”

You breathe out shakily, “Stop.”

“What if he dragged you upstairs? And that's just the start of what he might've done.”

“Fucking stop.” you warn him with your eyes but he doesn't budge. 

He tames you like you're a fucking dog.

“Your brother's right. You're staying with me.”

“And staring at you making out all night?”

You shut your mouth as soon as your response gets out. Jungkook tilts his head tiniest bit to the side and the corner of his mouth lifts up. “You were watching.”

“It was hard not to. Everyone was watching.”

“That's not an excuse.”

You inch closer, licking your lips. “It wasn't supposed to be.”

He stares at your lips before his touch disappears and so its warmth does. “You're not leaving my side.”

You scoff but he glares at you which surprisingly shuts you up. 

“I can give you alcohol, you can have fun. But you're not leaving my side.”

“You're worse than my brother.” That's a stretch and you both know it, but you've never seen Jungkook acting like this. He never really cared. He never had to in the first place. That's what your brother was for. 

He inches closer, hovering over you like only his presence can. “I can be worse.”

And somehow, that sounds like a promise. Once he motions for you to follow him, you do like a lost poppy with gritted teeth and anger bubbling inside you. But you don't disobey. Perhaps it's the shock or the weird feeling in the pit of your stomach that makes you buzz with excitement. 

Fuck. 

It's not hard not to have a crush on someone like Jungkook. He's hot, he's confident but not in the way where he's full of himself. He has every reason to be confident.

And just like he promised, he has managed to give you drinks that surprisingly taste good. They're not too strong and something tells you he purposely picked those out for you. You don't complain. They don't cause you to make grimaces at every gulp and you can feel yourself relax. In the corner your brother watches you with glare, reminding you of something that should feel like punishment. 

Perhaps it does.

Jungkook has you seated next to him, back on the couch. The woman he made out with sits on the opposite side, sending daggers next to you. You roll your eyes very publicly, scoffing and making sure she sees you. 

“JK, can we go somewhere else?” You hear her annoying sweet voice, while Jungkook himself looks slightly irritated that he has you on his watch. “Upstairs?” she suggests.

“Sorry, love, can't.”

She huffs out, “Why? Because you're babysitting?”

You move sideways to face her, leaning through Jungkook as you glare at her. “Maybe he just doesn't want your tongue shoved in his mouth.”

Jungkook sighs, lifting his hand to your collarbones to move you back but you don't budge. 

“Oh yeah? He wants more than that.” she informs you. 

“God, you're so desperate.”

“Excuse me?!”

“Behave.” Jungkook warns you, pushing slightly harder and finally, you plop back onto your spot and fume with arms crossed. 

“Tell your bitch to behave.”

“Y/N.” Jungkook warns through his teeth. You stop, realizing that this is the first time he said your name. Still fuming, you give him a glare before standing up.

“What did you just call me?”

“Come on.” Jungkook stands up too before you can make things worse and he's going to be caught up in a girls fight. This is not the night he planned.

He doesn't drag you like your brother did. He still rests his hand against your back and leads you in a direction. You don't protest. You want to but anything's better than being in the blonde's presence one more second. 

When you realize you're standing next to your brother who's leaning against the wall, watching the two of you with a knowing and quite pleased smirk. 

“Dude. That's enough.”

“Are you having any issue with my sis, JK?”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, “You made your point.”

“No, I don't think I have.”

“You two are annoying.” he sighs, closing his eyes.

“Excuse me? What have I done?” you exclaim, hand on your chest as he gives you a knowing look that shuts you up.

It's more than clear. Jungkook has brought you to your brother, so he could deal with you rather than he has to. It bruises your ego, but only slightly because you don't let any guy do any permanent damage. But you have to be honest. It's slightly embarrassing how he wants to shake you off. Clearly his plans for tonight have been different and watching the blondie still waiting for him patiently makes your night even worse, knowing what exactly he had planned. 

“You made me a huge cockblocker, bro.” you interrupt their bickering. It feels refreshing not to be the one bickering with your brother. 

Which reminds you that for the first time, you actually see them in some sort of argument even though it's not exactly a fight. Your brother as always is a pain in the ass and Jungkook's now experiencing it. You don't understand why Jungkook just doesn't let you go? Why did he insist on having you by his side at all times? 

Most likely, he doesn't want to piss off your brother.

Jungkook throws you yet another glare, but you brush him off pretty easily. “It's not about that.”

You give him a look which makes him groan.

“It's not just about that.”

And then they continue again. Your brother complains about your presence here, blames Jungkook rather than your own decision to come. He knows you. He knows you've done it to mess with him and it worked. But he expected better from Jungkook. 

You don't want to hear any second of it any longer. You don't wait for Jungkook's response, not even when you see his frown deepen and you know he's getting angrier by every word your brother spits in his face.

Using the tiny chance where they don't pay you any attention, you distance yourself from them. When you're in a safe distance and are not stopped by one of them, you make a run for it. Grabbing a wine bottle from someone's hold, ignoring them complaining, you make it upstairs and try to find a place where you can be alone. Before they find you.

You know once they notice you're not there, they'll be looking for you. Well, your brother will for sure. Even though he can be a dick, he's worried. But let him. That's what he gets for not letting you enjoy tonight. 

Passing by people who either mingle or make out, you try a few doors that are locked. Wise decision. Another reason why Jungkook seems to know how these parties go. It seems almost impossible to find a place where no one is. 

Just when you become tired and desperate, you make it to the quieter part of the house. It's weird because there are people everywhere. It's impossible to find somewhere quiet and empty. 

Luckily for you, you end up in a room that seems to be some sort of office. It's medium sized, definitely not one of the biggest rooms in this massive house, but still bigger than your kitchen and room together. 

It seems Jungkook has forgotten to lock this room. There's nothing special about it though. But he definitely doesn't want anyone to have sex on the wooden desk you pass by. There are a few shelves with books and a lamp, but other than that it's pretty empty. Oh, and there's a small couch. It looks expensive but it seems like they've brought it here just to put it somewhere. Not that it doesn't fit in here.

But it definitely doesn't look as expensive as the furniture you've managed to see in your short stay here. What has it been? Two hours? Two awful hours and no fun. 

Making it onto a small balcony, you sigh in relief when you find it open. It's facing the back of the house and your mouth drops when you see a fountain, pool and a garden in the distance. He's filthy rich. His parents are.

Sitting on the cold ground, you take a sip of the wine. Your features scrunch in disgust but you force yourself to drink. It's more from the whole annoyance and anger you've been feeling ever since you came here.

Maybe they were right.

This place is not for you.

You have no idea how long you end up sitting there. 

You just stare, hearing the blasting music in the distance and the chatter of people. You wonder if any neighbor called the police on him. But they're in the distance, probably they don't hear it as much.

There's a forest around you. There are no cars, no barking and no city noise. You wonder how this place feels like when there's no party. It must be calm and relaxing.

“Here you are.”

You hear it as soon as the balcony door slides open, ignoring the hint of annoyance in his voice as you take another gulp.

“You can't disappear like that!”

You chuckle, “Really? Watch me.”

“Your brother went crazy when you disappeared.”

“Sounds like a him problem.” you shrug.

“Are you drunk?”

You give him a look, a lazy smile making it onto your face.

“Where did you get that?”

“You know this is the most you've spoken to me since I've known you.” you take a note out loud.

He ignores you though. “You're gonna have one hell of a hangover tomorrow.”

“Sounds like a me problem, no?”

“God, you're such a brat,” he groans, “And get off the ground, you're gonna get sick.”

Snorting, you shake your head. “You're acting just like my brother.”

“You're irresponsible.”

That causes you to get a whiplash from how fast you glare at him. “I am not. Y'all act as if I can't do things on my own. Not only does my brother try to control me and watch over my shoulder every goddamn minute, you started doing it too!”

“He's worried about you.”

“Whatever,” you grumble, “Go back to blondie and leave me alone. Or snitch to my brother about my whereabouts, I'm sure he will get me out of here.”

He stays though. He doesn't move and doesn't speak for a moment. Instead, he sighs and sits next to you. 

��I wanted you to have fun.”

“Well, that didn't work, did it?”

“Look at you,” he chuckles, nudging lightly on your shoulder. “You seem to have fun on your own.”

“Yeah, spending Valentine's Day alone on the balcony of my brother's best friend is just so much fun.”

He laughs. He actually laughs and gives you an approving nod once he realizes you're right. “You're not alone anymore.”

You give him a look but before he can elaborate, he motions toward the bottle in your hand with his head. 

“Give me that.”

“No, this is the only fun I have.”

“C'mon, I will drink with you.”

Your surprise comes out before you give him a suspicious look. “You will?”

“Yeah.” he agrees and takes the bottle you hesitantly give him.

He takes a small sip, not a few gulps as you expect him to. “Is that all you got?”

“For tonight, yeah.”

“Why?” you question.

“I will take you home.”

You scoff, but then he continues. 

“After you decide you wanna go home.”

“Really?” Your surprise makes it out again. “You're not gonna kick me out?”

“I would never kick you out.” 

You make a face, “But my brother–”

“Your brother can be a dick sometimes.”

“Woah.”

“Don't act like you don't know it.”

“I do, but I'm just surprised you're the one saying it.”

He sets the bottle on the other side of him. It doesn't go unnoticed by you but you decide not to fight with him, especially once you feel the alcohol doing its job. 

“Well, I've seen it from his side and I gotta be honest, he's protective. Sometimes overly but he's not doing it because he hates you, y'know?”

“I know he doesn't hate me,” you inform him. “It's just annoying sometimes.”

“But now I've seen more of your side and he should just let you live.”

You nod in appreciation with lips pursed, “Wow, thank you.”

He smiles, “You still do a lot of stuff just to get back at him. You're not making it any easier, huh?”

You laugh, “It's my rebellion.” 

You sit there for a moment in complete silence. Jungkook stands up and leaves. You act as if you're not disappointed but before you can reach for the bottle that Jungkook has left here, the door slides open again and Jungkook wraps a blanket around you. 

“Don't look so surprised.”

“Wow, JK does something nice for a girl?”

“I can do a lot of nice things.”

“Is there a double-meaning or?” you trail off, causing him to laugh as he shakes his head.

“Not like that.”

Yeah, because you're his brother's best friend.

Not that you would ever want something with him. Only in your most secretive dreams but that's beside the point. Jungkook is not boyfriend material. You've seen it today more than ever. But you can't deny that he attracts you in the weirdest way possible. You have never experienced that with anyone. 

He's your type. When it comes to looks. And you're slightly ashamed to admit that some of his behavior attracts you. Basically, it's a red flag but what do they say? I'm color blind?

“How are you not freezing?”

It's February and you're sitting on a balcony. 

“I'm drunk.”

God, you're going to end up sick. Even your drunk self scolds you. 

“You wanna go home?”

“Not yet.”

He nods, not protesting as you both stare ahead. Your thoughts run wild, even in their slow pace because of alcohol flowing in your system.

“I was so annoyed because today's Valentine's Day,” you start, chuckling at yourself. “At first I thought I was just annoyed because everyone's in love and everything about today is about love. I do think it's overrated though.”

“I don't know, I never cared about it to be honest.”

You laugh, “Did you make today's party for all anti-romanticists?”

“No, I would've done it either way.” he chuckles. 

“Did you ever make something romantic for Valentine's Day?”

He makes a face, frowning but silently laughing amusingly at the thought of it. “No.”

“You know what? I think I was more annoyed that secretly maybe I crave for something romantic. Not necessarily a relationship.”

“Or maybe you just feel the pressure of today's ridiculous holiday and people around you.”

You snort, “You're just saying that because you're not in love.”

“Love's not for me. Not that kind at least.”

“And what kind?”

“I loved our family dog.”

You laugh, “That's different. I'm not talking about that.”

“I know you don't. Just sayin', love has all forms.” 

You hum, sighing before you start shivering. 

“Come on, let's go inside. You're freezing.”

“But–”

“We don't have to go home.”

“Or maybe I should. I'm getting tired. And I think I'm gonna throw up.”

“You were mixing hard liquor with wine. You will.” he agrees and once you nudge him, he laughs at you. “C'mon, you little brat. It's time to go home.”

As he makes sure you don't fall on the stairs, giving you the support you almost stumble when your brother makes his way toward you, breathless and relieved once he sees you.

“Where the hell have you been?! I've been looking for you everywhere. We've been looking for you! Why do you have the blanket?”

“Found her on the balcony.”

“What were you doing there?!” He screeches.

“Don't worry, I wasn't going to jump. But if I'm gonna have to keep up with your annoying ass for one more second, maybe I will.”

“You're drunk.” He scoffs.

“And honest.” you add.

“And where are you going?”

“I'm gonna take her home.” Jungkook answers, helping you with the last step as your brother stares with mouth wide open. 

“Like the hell you will! You were drinking.”

“I wasn't,” he responds. “Not since I was with her anyway.”

“Doesn't mean you don't have alcohol in you.”

“I don't. I'm fine.”

You didn't even realize he wasn't drinking anymore. God. You really can be a pain in the ass too. But that's your brother's doing though. He should've never ordered Jungkook to look after you. 

“You're the one who reeks of alcohol,” Jungkook informs him calmly, “Or you want someone else to take her?”

He shakes his head, still hesitant. He walks closer to you and wraps the blanket tighter around your form. “Are you gonna be fine?”

“Yeah, I trust Jungkook. Don't you?”

“I do.” He doesn't hesitate. 

He gives one final nod to Jungkook as he leads you out of the house. As you're walking out of it, you spot blondie with a group of what seems like her friends, glaring the shit out of you. You stick out your tongue when Jungkook's busy opening the door for you. The look on your face causes you to smirk.

Jungkook gets you inside his flashy car and you're kinda doomed that you're too drunk to look around and appreciate the expensive type of vehicle. You're drifting in and out of your consciousness. But you notice Jungkook stopping in front of a convenience store, informing you he'll be right back. And he is. It seems like he's been gone for a minute because you close your eyes, open them and he's already there.

The drive and walk to your home is quick. You get to walk on your own, much to your embarrassment there are no accidents of stumbling or falling. As soon as you make it past your doormat, you make it inside your bathroom and throw up in the sink. It's embarrassing once you hear Jungkook behind you, helping you with your hair. He doesn't say anything, just letting you throw up everything that's currently in your stomach. 

“I should take a shower.”

“Fuck that. Go lay down. I will lock the door.”

“Lock?”

“Your brother gave me his spare keys.”

“Oh.”

After a few minutes of bickering, you still insist on taking a shower. Jungkook sighs and lets you do your own thing, patiently waiting in the living room. Once you make it out in your pajamas that consist of your brother's huge t-shirt, you find him scrolling through his phone. 

“You gonna be fine?”

“Yeah, yeah.” You're seconds from passing out. You might've stumbled in the bath a few times but you hope he didn't hear that. 

You drag your feet to your bedroom and fall onto bed. You'll cover yourself later. As soon as you lay down, you ignore your spinning head and the disgusting taste of vomit that is still present, even though you've brushed and rinsed your teeth even in your drunken state.

The night is wild.

You throw up a few times, finding a prepared bucket beside your bed but unfortunately, you don't make it into it the first time. Once you wake up with a messy and aching head, you notice vomits on your floor and you cringe at yourself. Disgusting. 

You wake up around twelve, finally in a better state to leave your eyes open without having to vomit everywhere. You're about to reach for your phone, knowing you're going to have at least a dozen messages from your brother. But you stop yourself as you stare at things that weren't on your nightstand before.

There's a glass of water. A box of painkillers and a chocolate bar wrapped in a package filled with pink and red hearts. 

There's a note stuck to it. 

'Happy Valentine's Day, JK'

You stare, reading the note over and over again. 

And they say romance is dead.

[unoislazy]

Promises

Vi x Reader (Part Two)

(Childhood friends to lovers…)

Love will drive you crazy.

A/N: Leave it to a woman to inspire me to write again. <3

“And promise you’ll come back?”

If only you’d known how long those words stuck with Vi. 

For years she had been kept in this prison, her age passing by faster than she could keep count as the days moved on. The gray walls and dreary interior she had become so accustomed to  would be her undoing, she thought. The constant torment by the guards, being forced to live with those she always opposed, every reminder that she needed to get out, all of it in the end would amount to nothing. She feared she’d become nothing more than a statistic among the rest of the previous lane's residents.

She feared she’d never get back to you.

That was, of course, until a strange enforcer came to her rescue. Well… rescue was a strong word. In her eyes it was as if she was being taken from one cage to another.

“In what mad world would I trust someone like you?” She remembered the girl saying. 

“Someone like you.” 

They were all the same.

But she knew this girl was her best bet out of this place. Back to her sister and back to you. 

So, with a slightly wounded ego and a more hopeful outlook on life, given her two goals were now closer than ever, she left with the enforcer.

It was as if she appeared from nowhere. When she showed up, Vi truthfully thought she was going to get another “talk”. Instead, however, she was set free. With a price of course. She knew better than anyone than to trust an enforcer, so she kept her distance. Although, she couldn’t help but be thankful for her help even if it meant giving some kind of information in return. 

For the first time in years, Vi was able to move freely, hear the sounds of people bustling about, and see actual colors other than the dismal gray that engulfed the entirety of Stillwater. She wasn’t going to let some enforcer stop her from at least stretching her legs as she got reacclimated to the world around her. It wasn’t until the enforcer caught up with her once again did she realize she wasn’t going to just leave her alone. 

“Where are we going?” The enforcer asked. Vi had learned her name to be Caitlyn, and honestly she was just trying to lose her but somehow she always found her way back. She suppressed the urge to roll her eyes, not even bothering to turn back towards her. 

“We’re going to visit a friend.” She answered simply, her hood pulled up to cover her tattooed skin and her ever present pink hair.  Although the crowd of the people of the lanes was a diverse bunch, someone like Vi would still be easily recognizable for those who knew to look for her, and she was sure there would be a few. 

“Will this friend help us?” Caitlyn questioned skeptically, quickening her pace for a moment to catch up with Vi before slowing her pace once again. It was clear she was unsure of Vi's methods, probably letting what she had “learned” about the people of the undercity make her imagination go wild. She too kept her hood up, but less out of keeping her identity hidden, and more as if she was trying to shield herself from the strange new world around her. She had never been to the fissures first hand… and it was a lot to take in. 

With her hands tucked into the pockets of her new, freshly stolen jacket, Vi sighed.

“If I say yes will you hurry up?” She asked with a sarcastically sweet smile on her face as she turned slightly to Caitlyn. The blue haired enforcer, now left with little options given that Vi was her only sense of direction, simply nodded in response and followed wherever Vi was headed with a hastened pace. 

Luckily for Caitlyn, their route didn’t contain any parkour. 

Vi hurriedly made her way through the streets of the Undercity with one place in mind. She had no idea where you could be after all these years, if you were even still here. So, to keep from losing her sanity all at once, she started at the place where everything used to make sense. She couldn’t help but feel her heartbeat quicken ever so slightly, fluttering with even a tinge of hope that things would be just as they once were. With you waiting outside the door, wondering when she’d be free to hang out. Just like how it used to be.

But instead of being greeted with both the nostalgic warm glow off the sign outside of the bar, and you waiting by the door, she was met with a jarring bright green neon eye that framed the sign. People hung around outside, some clearly drunk off their ass, while others picked fights. Two guards stood outside, keeping people out of the, what seemed to now be exclusive, bar. 

This wasn’t right. None of this was. 

Vi’s grip on the bar that he hands rested on tightened as she looked at the scene before her. If this had changed, she couldn’t imagine what else had happened. 

And now she hadn’t a clue in the world where to look for you.

Little did she know, you really weren’t that far from her. 

You, like many others in the Undercity, had to make ends meet. 

You had to learn to survive.

And as a kid who lost everyone close to them, you really didn’t have many choices. So, you started from the bottom, working in the mines as many other kids your age did and worked your way up. Unfortunately, working in the mines meant you were working for Silco. The kingpin of the lanes. You couldn’t escape him if you tried. No one could, it seemed. The more you worked up and out of the mines, the closer you got to the man himself. Of course you never got to any influential role like his right hand. That title was reserved for Sevika.

But you didn’t need anything like that. You just wanted to survive, you didn’t want to have any real influence. 

Who knew from starting out in the mines, you would one day work your way up into working in the bar that you once thought to be a home of some sorts. In your eyes, everyone but Powder had died in that accident all those years ago. You never did find out exactly what had happened and you figured it would be for the best not to ask. That was the best way to get around in a place that involved such sketchy business. 

Keep your head down and don’t ask questions. 

That’s how you got as far as you did. 

What’s the point in asking questions you probably don’t want the answers to.

Every day you came into this bar to work, you couldn’t help but feel an unfathomable weight of guilt on your shoulders. You felt as if you let this happen. You felt as if you could’ve done something to stop Silco from practically desecrating the one thing everyone had left of Vander, other than the statue that was built in his honor. You felt as if you had done a disservice to Vi.

You knew how much Vi cared about those around her, and of course you also knew how much her sister meant to her. You never directly told her but you always knew that if anything had happened to Vi or Vander, you’d help out Powder. 

But when the need arose, you realized far too late.

The first day you had come in to work at your new position, just as a regular busser, you hadn’t expected much. You had no interest in the company Silco kept so you never made it your business. Until one day, you were cleaning off a table when a blue haired girl came waltzing in the front door. Her demeanor was cheerful but… with a noticeable edge. There was something off about her. You simply ignored it, figuring it was not worth asking questions until you heard her laugh. 

It was as if a strike of lightning struck through your entire being at that moment.

It couldn’t be. Could it?

You slowly turned once again to look back at the blue haired girl. A blue haired girl with even bluer eyes. Her laugh was identical to the one you had come to know very well all those years ago. It was then it clicked with you, that girl was Powder. She was here all along and you never knew. She was alive this whole time. You could’ve done something. You could’ve helped. And instead, here she was under Silcos care when she should’ve been under yours.

But then again, what could you have done? You too were just a child barely able to scrape together enough to make a living on your own, let alone take care of another altogether. Clearly that's not what mattered, what mattered was keeping Powder safe, what mattered was doing what you had secretly promised to Vi. What mattered was-

“Did you hear me?” A low voice broke you from your train of thought as you fluttered your eyelids and shook your head. You then looked up at the women before you who had spoken up just moments prior. You panicked a bit, immediately recognizing the woman to be Sevika, Silco’s cold hearted right hand. She grumbled under her breath knowing damn well you hadn’t heard a single word she just said before repeating,

“Clean this up.” She huffed, her eyelids lowering slightly as she stared at you. 

“Right.” You replied quickly before quickly moving to grab your bucket and practically scooping all the dirty dishes into it to bring back to clean. You tried not to draw too much attention to yourself by just doing what was asked of you quick and easy, but it was hard not to let your mind run away from you when being in a place such as this. A place that meant so much to you and you could do nothing but sit back and watch it burn. 

As you went back to clean the dishes, you noticed Sevika had gotten up and began to follow you. Great, you upset one of the three main people you never wanted to get on the bad side of.

Good going. 

You braced yourself to be ridiculed or fired before you heard Sevika speak up.

“Hey, you.” She called out, to which you turned around, a questioning look on your face as you looked behind you before looking back at her. “Yes, you. Come here.” She called out, now very clearly looking directly at you. If you were wearing boots you’d be shaking in them by now. You listened, of course, and walked towards her, leaving behind your container of dishes on a counter nearby. 

Once you made your way towards her, you simply made a gesture of acknowledgement, not speaking up as you waited for her to continue. 

“I need you to handle something for me. You don’t talk much, that’s good.” She spoke, her voice low and gritty as she leaned towards you as if trying to keep, whatever she was about to let you in on, a secret. You were just a busser, you weren’t supposed to be involved in any of the bigger things, this isn't what you wanted. 

Then again, you were just a busser, so there was no possible way that whatever Sevika wanted to suddenly burden you with was going to be all that damning, right?

“I have a ‘meeting’ tomorrow and I need someone else to go with. Don’t talk, don’t play, don;t do anything, you just have to be there. Got it?” She asked, well actually more like demanded. Then you realized, this ‘meeting’ was just another one of her gambling sessions. She must be playing something that involves two players and as someone who clearly doesn’t want to be in the way, she wouldn’t have to worry about you trying to snuff her out while playing. 

You felt as if the entire weight of the world lifted off of your shoulders. 

“Got it.” You responded. 

“Rotten luck boys.” Sevika gloated, throwing her deck onto the table as the two men before both of you huffed and growled having now the last majority of their money that they likely had saved for this occasion.

Just before she could say anything else, the sound of a sudden impact flew through the air, and before you could ever process what had just happened you watched as a streak of pink flew past your vision. The two men that had once been sitting before you had scurried off, grabbing some of their belongings in the process, clearly not wanting to be involved. 

You looked over to Sevika who was now partly on the floor as she grasped her jaw before looking up at the culprit. 

“Vi?” You whispered at the same time as Sevika as you both gazed upon the pink haired woman who currently had her back turned towards you.

Vi quickly turned back around to face you both, her eyes quickly glancing at you but her gaze didn’t linger as her focus was clearly on Sevika. Without another word shared between the two of them, punches were thrown, blows were dealt, and the sound of faces hitting concrete became more frequent than you ever would have liked it to.

You backed off, staring at the scrap before you as your eyes remained locked on the pink haired woman. There was no way that was Vi. It couldn’t be, she was killed with everyone else right? Perhaps, this was just a woman who just happened to look like Vi..? You racked through your brain with a million reasons for this to somehow be possible. None of which involved this truly being Vi. You didn’t want to let your hopes up like that. 

It wasn’t until you tuned back into the fight had you realized that Vi had kicked Sevika through a wall and was now holding her to the ground.

“Where’s my sister, where is he keeping her!” She demanded, holding her fist to Sevika’s face. It was then you realized, this really was Vi. From the voice, the fighting ability, the hair. You couldn’t deny it, it truly was her.

Your heart raced with excitement as you realized she was alive. She was really alive.

But if Sevika had her way, that wouldn’t be the case for long. 

She drove her clawed metal hand into Vi’s abdomen, wounding her greatly. 

You didn’t know what to do, if you spoke out against Sevika and lived you would be hunted for sport by Silco’s men, or Sevika herself. If you didn’t do anything, Vi was right on track to die. 

Before you could make a decision, you heard the whirring of Sevika’s arm as she stood once again, grabbing Vi and holding her in place.

“Hm, oh. And I almost forgot, a friend of yours wanted to say hi.” She taunted as she tilted Vi’s dreary face towards you. You watched as her face that was riddled with pain changed ever so slightly with shock as she recognized you. 

“Sunshine…?” She said quietly. The nickname that she had given you all those years ago.  before you both turned back to Sevika as the sound of her arm powering up filled the air. Vi looked as if she had given up by this point, having no more strength in her to fight. 

You had to help, you had to do something. You weren’t going to sit by and let this happen.

You weren’t going to lose her again.

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

Tag list

@bigbangxd24

[jjenthusee]

Moonlight And Intentional Mistakes

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

A/N: This is inspired and dedicated to @heavysighing-dreamyeyes amazing post linked here (show it some love) and their numerous sweet words especially on my Broken Mug writing drabble (also linked), so after crying reading their messages, i had to do something about the intense rush to write and the best way i can think of thanking you is by doing what i know, art and writing. i had no idea that i was influencing anyone, i only hoped my love for Jason was communicated correctly. i hope every single one of you that comes across my account has beautiful things happen to u. i’ll give u all a million kisses. please continue to write, i would love to continue reading what u have for us next <3 there’s also a surprise at the end :D (as always comments are appreciated if you’re comfortable <3 let me know your brain rot thoughts) ENJOY

Tags: teeth rotting fluff, soft Jason, touch starved Jason lowkey, siri play Never Grow Up by Niall Horan 😔, might have inspired the direction of the fic

Word Count: 3.4k

The moon was high.

Moonlight had casted a faint glow on the window blinds, it peaked in through the tiny gaps.

Only a small lamp was on, cascading light from the living room into your room. It gave enough light to see the outlines of your room. Bathing everything it could touch in a faint warm glow.

It was still dark enough that the details were too fuzzy to point out, but most objects were wrapped in shadows, bringing a unique calm to your room.

In the chill of night, the bed was warm. Jason was the perfect heater. The blankets were cozy and the sound of a fan whirred at the corner of the room.

It didn’t make sense covering yourself head to toe in a fuzzy blanket with a fan blasting air at you, but the sound mellowed you into the night, calling slumber closer to you.

It would have been easy to sleep if you were given the chance, but your gentle giant boyfriend was adamant to prove to you that he needed to sleep as physically close as possible to you.

It would have been fine, but today you couldn’t find a relaxing sleeping position. You had to shift your body around before finding the state of mind and the right amount of comfort to drift off, but tonight was difficult. Not only were you constantly shifting in the bed sheets, you were keeping Jason awake.

As your body moved to a new spot on the bed, Jason followed. Turning his body to follow the heat you left behind on the sheets. He wasn’t fond of the fact that a blanket fully engulfed you while he didn’t, it wasn’t fair.

When he got close enough to throw his muscular arm over you, you beat him to your next journey across the mattress.

If the queen bed the both of you were laying on looked like a college dorm twin XL with Jason laid out over it, then you shouldn’t have cornered yourself onto the edge.

Now half of your body dangled off the mattress. The bed was definitely big enough for the both of you the last time you checked, but with Jason getting closer to you every time you moved, it looked like he teleported a smidge closer when you blinked.

It also wasn’t ideal when he rolled onto the corner of the blanket that had unraveled from your legs.

You teetered on the end of the bed when he purposefully made sure to take up ninety percent of what was left of the mattress. Locking you on the edge, wrapped in a blanket.

You had been laying on your side, but Jason kept nudging you, tickling your face with his messy hair when he got close enough to attempt to burrow his large self into you. You kept scooting back, but once you didn’t feel anymore mattress, your legs were feeling where the cold air invaded the bed.

Now you settled on the dangerous edge with one leg completely off. Despite your avoidance of Jason, your free leg locked around Jason’s leg for any support to keep you safely on the bed. Your entire upper half was swaddled like a baby as the blanket blocked out any of the chill, your arms completely smushed against your sides with no way to free yourself besides Jason moving his body off of the edges of your blanket.

You had no control whatsoever.

It was you and your straining leg on Jason that was the only thing keeping you from plopping on the cold floor. Now in a vulnerable position, did Jason have the bright idea of asking the question you’ve been avoiding all day.

Where were his pudding cups?

———

“I take it back!” You pleaded with Jason as he kept the blanket tightly wound around you, preventing you from moving your arms to retaliate.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” Jason playfully faced at you, laying on his side. His voice melted with innocence, but had underlying amusement.

Your blanket was your savior and your enemy as it saved you from the hard floor, but it was also securely caught by Jason’s entire weight. He had you completely trapped inside with only your head and legs poking out, the fabric slung around you.

Moving his body an inch closer to the edge, Jason pushed your body further off, further with no support beside his mere weight and strength keeping you from falling.

“I swear there were two pudding cups before you left!” You screamed, your hair falling off your face, the ends gravitating toward the ground, your impending doom.

“Sweetheart, let’s play world’s greatest detective and I’ll ask you something. If I didn’t eat ‘em and we are the only two people who live in this apartment, then who do we have left? Hm?” Jason’s voice, honey sweet, as he emphasized the contradictions in your statement.

With the blanket bunched in his hands, Jason easily lowered you slightly, juggling your weight effortlessly while laying on his side. You cursed at his perfect athleticism.

The room may have been dark, but you didn’t need the moonlight to know he had a shit eating grin trying to get you to confess.

You felt like this was probably the closest you would feel to people walking the plank in those pirate movies you watched as a kid, a sick waiting game not knowing when your fate was inevitable. It was fun at the time and maybe the cold ocean was different from your bedroom floor, but otherwise it was still cold.

“I don’t even like sweets!” You playfully laughed as he teasingly let his hands slip, clearly seeing through your lie. You squealed as you felt your head dip and your leg fall from on top of Jason’s.

“And my hand slipped.” Jason equally lied through his teeth, his threat filled with no malice whatsoever as he securely held onto you.

“I’m starting to feel like this has nothing to do with pudding cups.” You raised your head back up to look at Jason, a full smile present on your face, testing your vulnerable state.

“Oh?” Jason raised his eyebrow as he looked down at you from the edge of the bed. The angle looked great on him.

“My world’s greatest detective intuition is telling me that you’re just mad that I kept rolling away from you.” You mischievously pointed out.

“My love, you need to use those skills to find out why all our pudding is gone.”

“Do you do this to all the criminals you interrogate?” You deflected, using your eyes to point to the current position both of you were in, dangling from the bed in a blanket while Jason kept you there.

“Only the pretty ones.” Jason sung, pulling you up slightly so you weren’t as close to the floor, not quite on the bed, but in a better spot than before.

“I didn’t realize the Red Hood had such malicious threatening techniques.” You shook your head feigning disappointment as you struggled to readjust your leg to latch onto his again. It probably looked awkward, but you were desperate. It wasn’t your fault that your boyfriend was built like a tank. “I promise to not rob anymore banks anytime soon. I’ll straighten myself out. Scouts honor.” You breathed out, exhausted from the movement.

“Just admit you ate the pudding and I’ll erase everything. Your speeding tickets and the bounty on you in 15 countries.”

“It’s 18 actually, don’t defile me—“

Jason effortlessly lowered you again. The blanket slipping slightly from jostling you around.

“Okay, okay!” You cried out. “If I fall you’re limited to two kisses a day!”

“This isn’t a negotiation.”

“Three, take it or leave it.”

“Tell me where the pudding is.”

“Four kisses and you can cuddle suffocate me when we sleep.” The blanket around you felt noticeably loose.

Jason scoffed, offended by your choice of phrasing.

“If our lives are ever on the line, I gotta remember I can’t ever let you negotiate.” He tauntingly called above you. “And I don’t cuddle suffocate you.”

“So it was ‘cause I moved away from you earlier!” You cried out as you slipped further. The blanket loosening completely around you, your gasp blurring into Jason’s name. A plea to catch you.

Jason quickly bent down, rolling his body off the bed and slipping his arms around you as he followed you to the floor. He rolled his body forward enough to quickly shift your position so his body plopped on the ground first while you landed on top of him.

It was a soft landing as you laid on his chest. Quickly finding a comfortable position in his arms.

“You only get one kiss a day.” You flatly said. “Why is our bed frame weirdly tall?” You nuzzled your head into his chest.

“Our deal was two.” Jason tenderly caressed your head. Moving your hair in motions that made you want to fall asleep.

“Looks like we’re both liars.” You barely whispered, sleepiness taunting your body.

“I guess you’re still wanted in 18 countries.”

You lazily laughed into Jason, his body slightly shaking from your movement. His arms wrapping around you, engulfing the feel of your laughter and locking it between your bodies. He smiled into your shoulder. Smelling your comfort.

You lifted your head, freeing your face. You were still being held by Jason, but you had a clearer view of his loving gaze lost on you as he traced your features, entranced by your smile.

“Missed opportunity.” You drunkenly watched and felt Jason’s fingers caressing your face.

“If you let me ‘cuddle suffocate’ you, you might have another shot.” Jason’s thumb rubbed your cheek, pressing into the softness. His calloused finger pads feeling slightly itchy, but you would never pull away, too endeared by how gently he treats you.

“Worth it.” You say after snapping out of your trance that was locked on your boyfriend. He knew the right areas to get your mind lost on his touch, focused solely on him.

You pulled yourself up from laying on top of Jason, grabbing for his hands as you stood. Straining to help pull him up, but almost all the effort came from his own strength, not yours.

Playfully, Jason never let go of your hands and let his body be dragged completely onto you, dramatically coming forward to rewrap himself around you.

You giggled as you threw your arms around him. Enjoying the warmth that radiated from him, reheating the once empty space. Your own personal heater. You were glad tonight was one of the nights he stayed home with you, cuddled in bed all evening. You tried your best to soothe his mind, away from the thoughts of patrol as much as you could.

Giving his mind a small mental break, to hold you close and whatever else he needed. Both of you continue to work hard to develop and maintain the kind of trust that Jason needed to work through the hard days, silent but never alone.

With reassuring hugs while he counted your breaths, holding onto your hand just to thoughtlessly memorize them, standing in your presence just to observe you.

His difficulty with readjusting to the mundane and useless tasks of every day life was the biggest challenge. Too many conversations about why we need to treat ourselves because we want to. Jason’s mind was filled with too many needs.

He needed a reason to buy himself something, he needed to push his body to the limits because there was no other option, he needed to work alone.

So you showed him that he didn’t need you to hold his arm while you walked around the city, but he wanted you to do it.

He didn’t need you to take care of him, but you wanted to because you cared.

As you lost yourself in the shared closeness, you swayed your body. Jason unconsciously following your movements, swaying with you and letting his hands intertwine behind you, letting it gently rest against your lower back. Once you held on, Jason had silently vowed to never be the first to let go.

As you moved your bodies, clueless about Jason’s promise to himself, you didn’t let go either. So the two of you clung to one another.

It was one of the millions of things you cherished about Jason, he showed his devotion through his mannerisms. He helped put away your bags after a tired day of work, when he brought you a blanket if you fell asleep on the couch then carried you to bed. He bought your favorite snacks if he was at the store. He effortlessly followed you, content to be next to you.

Of course, he still put up limitations. He wouldn’t put your safety at risk. He sat closer and became more aware of restaurant doors, he kept you walking on his side or always in front of him, when he slept he made sure to determine the layout that suited you best, away from the window. His eagerness to make sure your wellbeing is priority.

It led to him not sleeping once you switched your position too many times tonight. He wasn’t satisfied with you being closer to the window, but he also was determined to get you to cuddle.

Numerous times you wanted to tease him, but after a Red Hood reveal that had you debating if he collaborated with his brothers to pull a twisted prank on you and an emotional talk, you couldn’t blame him for any of it. The fitted suit was just an added bonus you could outrightly ogle at.

You two were standing, holding each other in the dark. His head nuzzled on the base of your neck, his hands gripping your shirt, crinkling at the desperation. Sometimes Jason felt overstimulated when his feelings were ready to burst. His unfamiliarity with so much tender affection makes his mind unable to process all of it.

All you can do is to tell him that your there. Reminding him that you were unwilling to go anywhere.

“I’m here, Jay.” You softly reassured. “I’m right here, in your arms.”

Jason was unaware of the same silent promise you prayed to yourself, to never let him go.

When Jason’s grip loosened, your lips softly kissed the side of his head, soothing the thing that gives him a hard time. Repeating the motion, feeling his breaths even.

You never said that you were limited to how many kisses you can give him.

As you methodically swayed and with one final kiss against his hot skin, Jason shifted himself to standing taller, resting his forehead on yours. His hair laid flat against your skin.

You closed your eyes, enjoying how docile he became once you initiated physical touch. A craving he wanted and you unconditionally gave him.

When you opened your eyes, adjusting to the darkness, you grabbed one of his hands to intertwine them, your other hand gently falling onto his shoulder. He noticed the familiar stance, mimicking that of a dance. He silently rested his free hand on your waist, once again feeling the fabric of his shirt that you wore.

There was no music, but you leaned into Jason once again, swaying to the rhythm of his heartbeat, slow and in tune with his breaths. The further closeness let you settle your head underneath his chin, his hand following around the width of your waist pulling you in more.

Everything felt perfect. It was the middle of the night in the dark, you wore pajamas, no music played, both of your hair messy, but you held Jason. A sweet grasp of his shirt bunched in your hand, your feet bumping into his, the smell of your soap radiating from his skin from his shower.

If this was your last day on Earth, you would think you were blessed to be in front of the most loving, tender man. Watching his eyes softened and sparkle as he feels a breath of peace.

That was all you needed.

In an act of surprise, you moved your arm to wrap around Jason’s waist and attempted to dramatically swoop him back. It was haphazardly done, but he gladly played along despite the difference in height making it a little awkward. He dipped back then came forward, reuniting your embrace, both of you laughing at your clumsy attempt at a slow dance.

“Why does this feel like an awkward school dance?” You breathed out, breathless from the laughing, talking into his clean shirt. Most likely you were taking it to wear tomorrow night.

“We’re just swaying, we aren’t really moving how we’re supposed to.” Jason rubbed your back as you caught your breath, his voice softly surrounding you as you rested on his chest, feeling every word.

“And how would you know?” You looked up at him, a teasing tone. “It’s not like either of us know how to slow dance.”

Jason paused, looking down at your eyes, contemplating.

“Would you like to learn?” He hesitated, combing his hand through your hair.

You completely stopped swaying, Jason’s hand dropping from the top of your head to rest on your cheek. He carefully watched your reaction, your eyes widening, a stunned look in your eyes.

His grip tightened, barely noticeable if you didn’t feel his thumb press on your waist, helping to remind you to respond.

“I mean, I’ve always wanted to try it.” You looked down toward your feet, slightly feeling the embarrassment creep up at your confession, but Jason rubbed his thumb on your cheek. A silent comfort. “But, I don’t have a reason to learn. I’m way past school dance age, I rarely go to events where it might happen, and…no one has ever asked me.”

A silence settled between the both of you, Jason’s thumb pausing. He looked between your eyes, glancing back and forth.

“Can I get my phone?” He asked with no explanation, no other detail leading to your earlier confession.

You felt the mortification creeping at you. You nodded, letting go of Jason.

He stood there until you removed yourself first. His grip fleeting, walking in the dark to grab his phone, illuminating the room with its screen where he stood. You curiously watched him, not quite understanding his intentions.

“I might be a little rusty.” He voiced, a broad back facing you.

A gentle melody played from his phone. Quiet, but getting louder as he pressed the volume button on the side of his phone.

“What?” You stood there awkwardly.

Jason turned to face you, throwing his phone on the night stand as he walked back over, raising an open hand to you.

“May I have this dance?”

He stunned you again, your brain having too many delays at once.

Your hand trembled as you raised it to meet his. You couldn’t respond to his question because your throat ached, ached in a way that you wished the world ended right there, to consume the pounding heartbeat in your ears, the firm grip of Jason, and attempt to swallow up all the love swelling in your heart. It would put up one hell of a fight.

Once the both of you met, bodies close, Jason repositioned your hands as it was before. Gently guiding you through the steps as you nervously looked at your feet, your tense body adding to your struggle.

Once you felt a decent rhythm and Jason patiently assisted you, memorizing your expressions, movements and the smile you beamed when you finally felt comfortable.

He grabbed your chin. Guiding your head back up to look at him. Bringing his head closer to yours.

Your eyes closed halfway before he gripped your back, dipping you back, holding your weight as you inhaled in surprise.

“Jason!” You laughed his name as he swung you back up, extravagantly twirling you from him, clasping your hand to twirl you back into his embrace.

“Rusty, huh?” You quipped, eyeing him, trying to stabilize your steps.

“What can I say, Alfred beat the movements into me. He would feel a shift in the air if I got it wrong.” Jason smiled, picking up the swaying again, enthusiastically moving both your bodies.

You continued dancing through laughter, not watching your feet as much as you were, letting the feeling of the music guide you.

Not knowing where your body and his separated, a beautiful blur.

How could you have missed out on something so sweet?

A dance shared between two individuals who adore one another.

Jason stamped another mark onto your life.

First dances laced with intertwined hands, lips brushing against one another, tuning out everything but each other’s voices.

Maybe the world did end, but you wouldn’t have known, too immersed in the moonlight on Jason’s skin, the warmth of love and home enveloping you.

[liulang-yishujia]

! SPOILER WARNING FOR 2.5 UPDATE! READ WITH CAUTION ! summary: the yaoqing trio returns back to the yaoqing, though things are a little different, being an alchemist in the alchemy commission, you receive the instructions and diagnosis from the cauldron master of the luofu, lingsha, about jiaoqiu's condition and what needs to be prepared for him and his treatment plan. despite being someone who worked a few times with the healer, you find yourself assigning treatments to him for once, despite his stubbornness and negligence when it came to his own health. pairing: jiaoqiu x alchemist!foxian!reader (afab) warnings: slight gore, injury descriptions word count: 3.4k a/n: how are we feeling jiaoqiu fans? a mess? :,) me too <3 so we need some comfort yes <3 the idea is based on an idea oc that was an alchemist and as the xianzhou yaoqing is mostly foxians, it makes sense right? hope you enjoy it <3 sorry for the medicinal rambling too! sorry if this may seem ooc, I feel so rusty with writing these days... ^^; I plan to write some proper fluff, I apologise this isn't lovey dovey, if anyone has suggestions please send them please support me by following or sharing! it's much appreciated! <3 twitter/x: @derniermystere ao3: Dernier_Mystere

The diagnosis was almost painful to read, you knew the trio was reckless, and a part of you thought it would be the Merlin’s Claw that would come back with the injuries, not Jiaoqiu. Even Moze who lingered in the shadow of the General had his incident report of injuries, most of the events that had occurred on the Luofu remained on the hush, so unfortunately, it left you and numerous other healers in great distress when the commission received the outpatient details and care instructions for the pink-haired foxian. Toxins in the wounds have caused surrounding flesh to decay and atrophy… acute shock from severe blood loss…? Disturbed blood circulation from Tumbledust results in disturbed blood circulation, massive internal bleeding, neurological atrophy and optic neuropathy, leading to… blindness. These were just a few lines written in his injury reports, you felt your eyelids flicker in concern at the words, each description made your lips crease further into a frown, your heart wavering as you could only imagine the pain he would’ve struggled with in that short period, not only ingesting a lethal amount of Tumbleweed but also baring the injuries sustained by the Borisin Warhead, Hoolay. Not to mention there were found traces of Lupotoxin still present in his bloodstream, in short, he danced on the thin line between life and death, a second too late, and he would have died an agonising death.

As you sat in the cool room of your examination office, the rhythmic ticker a counterpoint to the steady hum of the medical equipment in the room still trying to convince yourself how Jiaoqiu remained in such good spirits, and oddly with a good appetite despite his situation… his calmness and sly exterior made you fear the worse, after all, he hid a lot of his emotions, using his fox-like smile as a mask to pretend all was fine, even if inside he could have been begging for a semblance of hope. Your e/c gaze flickered up to the Foxian who hummed softly, sitting on the examination table with a Gaiwan* in his hands, as he curiously took in a whiff of the scent of the tea, swirling it occasionally in his hand as he tried to depict what herbs were in it. “Not much to say honestly, I feel quite fine besides the fact, I have been told not to eat spicy food… it’s truly a torturous treatment,” his voice was calm, yet the mention of not being allowed to eat his favourite food made him click his tongue, one of his long ears flicking in annoyance, “But, other than that, I am quite alright,” 

Your eyes squinted as you observed him talking to the pot plant in the corner of your examination room while you were seated on the other side of him, yet… you felt your insides soften that, he was still adjusting to his new condition after all. “Master Jiaoqiu, you know ingesting amounts of spicy food will only increase inflammation of your wounds.” You spoke softly, choosing not to comment further that he was talking to the plant rather than yourself. Jiaoqiu’s ears flicked in your direction rapidly, as he quickly adjusted himself to face the direction your voice came from, acting as if he knew the whole time you were seated there, it made you softly giggle in amusement as you slowly lit a stick of Dreambranch Incense in the office, in hopes of providing calmness to the mind during his routine follow up examination.  

“You always say you’re quite alright to avoid unnecessary long appointments, who dropped you off today? Was it the Merlin’s Claw or Moze?” You teased, prepping the small station beside him with all the necessary tools and treatment needs. Jiaoqiu’s tail flicked in annoyance as he crossed his arms, followed by a tiny pout on his lips, “I will have you know, no one dropped me off, Thank you.” His tone was almost childish and petty, “I came as instructed by the Cauldron Master of the Luofu, nothing more than a routine check-up.” He clarified, yet the creases in his brows seemed to convince you further that someone made him actually arrive at his scheduled appointment. “For a healer, Master Jiaoqiu… you should always look after yourself before treating others.” You commented, your fluffy tail swaying behind you in amusement as you spoke, enjoying the small amount of petty banter with the Foxian healer who had left the field a while ago now. Being a long-life species, a mere few years seemed to fly by in the blink of an eye, but when one formed friendships or any kind of relationship when they left or moved on, it felt as if they had left for centuries, this was no different to Jiaoqiu. His sassy nature and his usual greeting with a cunning smile were oddly something you missed, but deep down, you knew the losses on the battlefield tore and ate away at his heart, leaving nothing but emptiness, a path of Nihility to creep in. Some days, you found yourself sitting on the stairs of the commission, looking at the fake night sky of the Yaoqing, wondering if your research and treatments meant really nothing in the end. Countless patients slipped between your fingers like sand, no matter how hard you tried to grab the delicate granules, it would still slip through. The many nights where you prayed to Lan or any aeon to hear your pleas and silent begs to help a young patient that was slowly succumbing to the effects of Mara, the way their limbs twisted un-naturally, root-like appendages growing from his body like a deformity as they slowly lost their mind day-by-day, yet none of them cast their gaze on you or your pleads… they always replied in a numbing silence. You felt his pain… you sympathised with his feelings for those who were lost in battle… You could treat a thousand patients, but what was the point if they returned to the battlefield and lost their lives in the end… was their sacrifice in vain? These were the many questions that went through your mind on a daily, and something you assumed most alchemists thought. 

Your eyes fluttered closed as you shook your head to dismiss the darkening thoughts, you forced yourself to read over the letter submitted by Lingsha. As written in his treatment plan, you were to clean his wounds with Pathovore bugs, before applying liberal amounts of medication and dress them up firmly. As well as take a deeper examination of his blindness and relay any suggestions to her for possible treatments of his blindness. “Well, I know you want this to be done quickly, so I will start with the treatment of the wounds, Master Jiaoqiu, then if possible, I would like to examine your eyes…?” You asked hesitantly, your h/c ears pinning back against your head as you cautiously asked him, you honestly didn’t know why you were nervous, it was your job… but he had only recently just lost his vision, was it a touchy subject? Or maybe would flat-out refuse and say it was nothing.  

Jiaoqiu simply remained silent as he continued to hold on to the delicate clay cup, he gave the tea one last sip before he gently pressed the edge of his hand along the surface of the table to confirm he could safely place his cup upon it, “Why are you concerned, Y/N? it’s your job after all. Do what you need. For once, I am simply the patient, and you’re my healer now, are you not?” He spoke up, turning to face in your direction, though you could hear the slight hesitation laced in the last few syllables of his words but you slowly nodded in reply, not that he could see it. 

The initial examination was rather simple, you had to look over his wounds, the deep lacerations on his chest, the state of his collarbone, checking him for any signs of Lycanthropic symptoms which came in the forms of excessive hair growth, elongation of the canine teeth, hostility (namely to Foxians) and a heightened increase of Lupitoxin which are evident in a blood rage. Further examination of his red blood cell, Platelets and the protein count in his plasma, to gauge how well his blood would coagulate over time, while the effects of consuming Tumbledust has significantly lowered the count, he was slowly making progress as there were some improvements. While it wasn’t much, it was better than none… 

“So far, you seem to be on the road of recovering… slow, but I am sure we can get there eventually, there has been a minimal increase in your plasma counts, and platelets, but not much to say you can return to handling sharp objects… I am hoping you’re not, Master Jiaoqiu, and you have no signs of Lycanthropy so that rules out any further conclusion of you becoming a borisin.” You explained, all while scribbling on his patient forms that would be sent back to Cauldron master Lingsha, and further approval by Head Alchemist on the Yaoqing, Yingyue. “With this, I would like you to be placed on a higher dose of anti-inflammatories, to help reduce the swelling in your wounds. That, or need I remind you that you are not to ingest spicy foods, Master Jiaoqiu.” You slowly raised a brow at him as he turned to you, pulling out his fan that was underneath his alchemy commission uniform that he had removed so you could treat his injuries. He delicately fanned himself a few times, before hiding his lips behind the coloured feathers. 

“I would never betray the doctors’ words, no knives or spicy food here. Are you insinuating that your patient ingested spicy foods? Y/N you wound me… I would never,” He stated with a cunning smile pulling at his lips behind that fan, his tail swaying behind him as he took in the results of his examination. “But is it really my fault that Moze had hotpot, I couldn’t turn down such a request, even Feixiao was there.” He soon added, nodding his head innocently as his ears twitched in your direction. 

“So you did have Spicy food, is that what you're telling me?” You pressed, raising a brow as he kept fanning himself, concealing his smile. 

“I never said that, I just said that Moze might have offered it to me. But as such a good patient, I never touched a drop. I instead had to sit and watch my so-called friends enjoy a hotpot in front of me, it was quite cruel, really…” His fluffy ears drooped down, as he dramatically acted as if it had taken a toll on him that he couldn’t have some. Your expression fell into a deadpanned glare as he kept innocently fanning himself, humming all innocently, you knew that this sly foxian had made the hotpot himself and threw the blame at Moze to get off any kind of lecture. You feigned a sigh in defeat as you allowed him to win at his little game, “Alright, whatever the patient says… but know your slight increase of white blood cells, and redness on your laceration tells me otherwise,” You simply pointed out as you began working on removing the now loosened bandages around his shoulders and chest, you had seen your fair share of injuries and wounds, but the deep claw marks along his chest with lingering parts of decaying flesh seemed to leave a deep pang in your heart… reading about his injuries were bad enough, but seeing them in person was just as bad. 

The audacity he had as he simply hummed in reply and with a nonchalant shrug, “I have no idea what you’re insinuating here, doctor,” He added, placing his fan down to reveal that sly fox-like grin, as he lifted his head proudly, more so that you could work on his wounds better. But upon sensing your concern with his wounds, Jiaoqiu slowly fell into silence as he turned away, “This is nothing. I can handle this, there is no need to look at me with… pity.” 

You felt an all-familiar annoyance stir inside you as if small flicking flames lapped at the insides of your chest as your movements slowed down, “It isn’t pity… it was concern Jiaoqiu when the incident reports were handed to us, it was worrying… especially when there was no news or context from the Luofu. I knew something was covered up, and it involved Hoolay, something for sure went wrong… it may not be my place to ask what happened, but… You shouldn’t bare yourself to a wolf's fangs… and ingest Tumbleweed… even if you had a plan.” you whispered, gripping the bundle of bandages in your hands that you had removed, “You could have died, then what-” 

“I would have died fulfilled and content, Y/N.” He cut her off, a heavy sigh ruminating from his chest as he still refused to face you entirely, his brow furrowing in annoyance as he refused to accept your concern for him. 

“Would you really say that?” You pressed, your shoulders slouching as you continued to remove the last of the bandages to fully observe the wound in its entirety. Yet unlike before, you weren’t phased, instead, your heart simply felt like it was crumbling at his words. However, Jiaoqiu remained silent when you pressed him, his ears folding back a tad, it was a sign that you were right in some way. Despite the deafening silence, you continued to work on him, applying the Pathovore Bugs onto the rotting parts of his wounds, all while she delicately ran her scalpel over the unhealthy flesh to promote excess skin growth. Jiaoqiu grunted softly, leaning back onto his arms as he tried to push himself through the uncomfortable sensation, he didn’t want to be seen as weak or vulnerable, even though he was the one knocking on death's door. Yet his stubbornness to admit anything or the fact that for once he required treatment was unyielding, even when he was in pain. 

The silence continued to hover between them, once playful banter turned to a darkened cloud of tension, but, Jiaoqiu managed to face Y/N once more, parting his lips as he tried to find the words to say something, “Why do you care so much. Don’t they say laying your life out on the path of the hunt is a blessing…?” He managed to whisper out, his voice almost weak and one could even say vulnerable. Y/N glanced up, but unlike the look of annoyance or a frown, she offered him a compassionate gaze, “We are both healers, different kinds sure, but in the end, we are here to help those in need. I know you have lost many patients, as have I… I may not have been through or seen what you have on the Front Lines… but we share the same burdens of what we do is the right thing…” Your voice was soft, yet anyone could hear the way your words seemed to break through the ragged breaths you took in as you tried to formulate each word with sincerity, “But… we… no, you shouldn’t allow yourself to go through such measures… General Feixiao is already strong on her own, and your patient can only go as far as they can if their healer is also healthy, I have seen too many people die over nothing to claim they did so in the name of The Hunt… but it felt like they were throwing themselves away.” 

You gently removed the bugs, placing them in a glass beaker as you kept talking, “As I said… I don’t know what happened on the Luofu… but I know, you shouldn’t have risked yourself at such a high stake. There is always an alternative, another way to do things, picking the dangerous path isn’t always the right way.” You whispered, head now falling downwards as your ears drooped once more. You had seen so many soldiers come back from the battlefields injured and proclaiming proudly that if they died, they did so for The Aeon Lan, but, it more so felt like they were throwing themselves at the denizens of Abundance without another thought of a better strategy. Y/N slowly bit on her bottom lip as she continued with the treatment by applying liberal amounts of the ointment onto his wounds, before securely wrapping them up in bandages. 

During the quiet moment as Y/N worked, Jiaoqiu found himself sighing once more, shaking his head as his expression softened slightly to that of contentment. “You might have been right, I could have found another way… but I made it, did I not?” He replied in a lighter tone, even if you swatted his side with the flick of your fluffy tail, “You’re just as reckless as the Merlin’s Claw, she is rubbing off on you. You know… there would be a lot of people upset if you had died… I am sure even Moze would be upset in his way… you may have been fulfilled as you say, but what about the others that care for you?” you added, making sure that each one of his wounds was fully covered, before you soon sat back in your chair, your mind also wanted to add ‘what about me?’ yet, you didn’t. The Foxian offered you a sad smile, as he turned to the direction of the pot plant, “You’re not wrong, Y/N.” He reluctantly whispered, his voice holding a sense of vulnerability yet again, each word spoken like a prayer, with an ear twitch he turned back to you, this time with a more genuine smile.

“I am sure you would have been deeply hurt. To think during your training you said you hated me and my spicy food you could smell from a mile away…” His demeanour shifted to his usual self, sly and jabbing, which seemed to stir you up, evident as your tail swished around in annoyance as you finished up with his wounds, giving him the space he needed to change back into his clothes. “Stop being snarky… you seriously need to take better care of yourself.” You huffed as you turned to clean your instruments, all while he resumed fanning his delicate face once more, his soft pink hair flowing with each motion of his fan as he continued that same mocking smile. “I know. I can’t promise anything.” He hummed, for once he spoke truthfully, “But, I will do my best, I have no guarantees.” 

“That's all I wanted to hear, Jiaoqiu.” Your shoulders eased up and relaxed at his words, her heart feeling ever so lighter. 

“You know, you dropped the formalities halfway, this is quite intimate, Y/N, I am almost flattered, after many years and now you call me by my name and not Master Jiaoqiu,” As usual he tried his best to get under your skin, still calmly fanning himself. He expected you to retaliate or shoot back another snarky comment, yet you did something that surprised him… You gently hugged him, wrapping your arms around his lower torso to avoid touching his wound, as much as he wanted to open his eyes in surprise, the Foxian instead felt his expression melt into a soft fondness, one that wasn’t all that often seen. “You were that worried?” He finally admitted, moving one of his hands to delicately brush against your back soothingly. 

“Just promise me you will be more careful next time,” you whispered faintly, near one of his long ears that twitched at your words, his tail swaying side-to-side. 

“I can’t guarantee anything… but, if I get hugged like this, I might consider it.” He purred, still fanning the two of you with his fan, blissfully unaware of the edge of the fan catching a lit with the sizzling of fire lapping at the tips. Jiaoqiu quickly moved the fan to stop the fire from continuing with a silent huff of annoyance, “Maybe we could even go for some hotpot sometime?” 

You wanted to say he wasn’t allowed spicy food, but you were content from his words, you simply hoped that one day, he would take your words to heart, if not for your own sake, but maybe for those that were close to him…

[fawningflowered]

KATE MARTIN X WIFE READER -

authors note; comments + reblogs are always better than likes!! i loveeeee feedback!

request; “i loved your pregnancy hcs with kate, could you do some of after the baby is born? like taking turns with the baby, meeting the team etc? love your writing!” — first off, thank you so much angel 💕 i hope this was good!!

word count; 640 words

— kate sat next to you with fear in her eyes as she watched your body be taken over by tremors. the poor girl hadn’t even heard of “the shakes” until the nurse explained how, and why this was happening to your body during labor and that it might possibly happen after birth aswell. for you, it was also quite frightening, the feeling drowning out all other senses besides the pain of your contractions. despite trying her best to stay strong for you, the sight of you lying there, broke her heart. there was nothing she could do besides hold your hand.

— as soon as the two of you find a quiet moment together with your baby resting peacefully in his bassinet, kate lovingly positions herself next to you, gently pressing her lips against your knuckles. her voice when she spoke was all that could be heard in the room, besides the baby’s unlabeled breathing, “you did so good, baby.”

— your wife and you had both had agreed that there were to be no visitors allowed until after the three of you had safely returned home. every family member who asked, was told the same. after the two days you spent in the hospital, then you’d open your home for only close family on both sides. under the condition that nobody was ill at the time of their visit. the two of you stayed focused on your little family and creating a sense of privacy during your time together, making sure that your experience remained undisturbed and cherished.

— during your entire time postpartum, she was your rock. physically, mentally, and emotionally. from the minute you brought the baby into the world, she is there to provide nothing but her love and support. whether that be feeding the baby in the middle of the night while you slept, or listening to you as you ranted. no matter what, kate was there.

— most nights, you’d open your eyes, the sound of the baby's cries gently nudging you awake, making you to rise sleepily and shift your weight to the edge of the bed. you’d yawned and drag your feet over to the bassinet, barely a couple of steps away, kate would get up aswell. the blonde’s hair was tousled from sleep, but she still remained gorgeous. your wife was a bit groggy, but determined to tend to the baby. 

"hey, baby, you should rest. i’ll handle him for now," kate whispered to you softly, before kissing your forehead and sending you back into bed.

— on the phone with your overly persistent mother, she begged and pleaded to come see her grandbaby. but, with her living out of state, you didn’t want to risk the baby getting something she caught on the plane over. so you told her “no”, over and over.

“i don’t want to sound mean, mom —“ but you were cut off by kate, who was usually the sweet one in the relationship, “i don’t mind being mean. you can wait. he’s not going anywhere.”

— around a month and a half later, you’d decided the baby was in a place where he could meet extended family or friends. kate’s teammates began coming over. first it was kelsey and a’ja, then the others followed suit. eventually, caitlin and her girlfriend flew down aswell. the amount of flower bouquets you had by now was insane, and you finally had to ask people to stop bringing them, just in fear that they’d take over your whole home. 

— you and kate often took turns. whenever something needed done, you’d just hand the baby off to the other one. your favorite moments were when all three of you cuddled together or when you’d wake up to kate and the baby sitting in the rocking chair in his nursery.

taglist; @bveckers @kmoneymartini @cosmopretty @charlottehughess @aubreygriffin @favreader23 , divs by @/anitalenia

[suosgirl]

i can't stop thinking about your recent story 😩 it's so fluffy 💗 what if suo saves reader from thugs one day, as a gentleman as he is, suo accompanies her until she can finally go home safely. oh! then! they meet again unexpectedly in kotoha's cafe since the reader's classmate wants to buy a coffee. reader gave suo a chinese novel as a way of thanks since she notice that he likes chinese stuff due to his outfit then it made suo curious about her which led him to pinning at her but she's kinda dense HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

A Gentleman (& His Rambler) | Hayato Suo x Reader

Word Count: 4501

୨ৎ Read me before interacting!

୨ৎ Pairing: Hayato Suo x Reader feat. brief (very brief) mentions of Haruka Sakura and Akihiko Nirei

୨ৎ Song Inspiration: Talk Too Much - Reneé Rapp

୨ৎ Warnings: mdni, fluff, f!reader, ooc (definitely ooc sorry ah), angst (?), harassment, insecurities, swearing, kissing, 1 oblivious idiot and 1 lovesick idiot – if I’ve missed one, I apologize + please let me know!

୨ৎ Note: Oh my goodness this was such a fluffy and cute idea ahhh!!! Thank you for the request (and so sorry that it took so long ahh)!! Definitely took a lot of liberties with this (f!reader is written as a college student) but I hope you enjoy the story (and I hope it was somewhere in the ballpark of what you were thinking of hehe)!!!! Additional notes: I wasn’t too comfortable with just writing down any old novel, so I did a bit of research on my end and wrote it in a way that made sense to me as well as Suo’s character! So sorry if this wasn’t really what you had in mind, but I think it flows fairly well with the story so I hope that it makes sense for you as well! ♡

In your defense, at least you talked about things that were interesting. At least, you had thought so, but the puzzled looks on your assailant's faces beg to differ. It’s funny, when Suo comes across the men harassing you, he knows that you’re in trouble – but instead of taking the time to maybe scream for help or yell at them to go away, you’re instead in the middle of explaining differential equations to them.

You hated this. You weren’t even supposed to be walking home alone.

But, when duty calls (the duty being your friend having to beg their professor for a grading curve), well – you make do with what you’ve got. 

You could’ve stayed, and right now, you think that you should’ve stayed, but you were never a patient person – so, determined and tenacious, you start your short journey back home. 

You’re counting on making quick work of the stroll, maybe stopping by the corner store to pick up some snacks and a well-deserved coffee, before finally bunkering down to start the copious amount of research that you’ve been putting off.

What you aren’t counting on, though, is for a group of guys to start following you just a little after you leave campus.

You don’t count on them running after you once you speed your walk up to a run.

And, you don’t count on them to corner you in an alley when you ignore their pleas of “slow down” and “we just wanna talk”.

They drive you into a corner, and you shrink under their outraged eyes and towering frames.

You’re absolutely fucked, and you know it.

Your mind short circuits, and you freeze – one hand on the strap of your bag, and the other clamped around your phone.

You know what you should do. You should threaten to call the authorities, you should start crying for help, you should try to make a dash past all of them to freedom.

But, you’re you, so…

Like any sane person – you start talking.

Despite the tears that are threatening to fall from your eyes and the wobble in your knees, you start telling these harassers about how your classes went, the textbooks you purchased (at an outrageous price, might you add), the quiz that you failed, and the project that you have due in a couple of days.

And – you can’t help it. It’s not like they knew what they were signing up for when they chased you, but you’re sure that if they did, then the thought wouldn’t have even crossed their minds.

On all accounts, you didn’t think your rambling was even that bad, and honestly, you rarely ever did it.

(This is all pure speculation on your end, by the way.)

But you know how some people are just gifted? How some things just come naturally to them? 

…Yeah. That was you. Would some say that you simply don’t have a filter? Maybe. Would others say that you talk at the speed of light? Perhaps.

In your defense, at least you talked about things that were interesting. At least, you had thought so, but the puzzled looks on your assailants faces beg to differ.

It’s funny, when Suo comes across the men harassing you, he knows that you’re in trouble – but instead of taking the time to maybe scream for help or yell at them to go away, you’re instead in the middle of explaining differential equations to them. 

And what’s silly is that it works – you’ve got them standing there scratching their heads as they try to just keep up with you, and you …

Well, Suo drinks in the sight of you. 

It’d be hard not to – not with the way that you’re moving your hands in earnest with your words or the way your brows are scrunching up in agitation.

Wisps of your hair have escaped the haphazard bun you’d done earlier that day, and your face has a glowing, rosy flush to it.

And your lips – 

Well, Suo’s never had the urge to kiss a stranger, but… 

With the way that they part pretty with every word, and the occasional peek of the tip of your tongue as you lick them, Suo can’t say that he would say no if you so chose to reward him for his hard work with a press of your lips to his.

And, from what he can gather, you really hate differential equations.

It’s captivating, really.

Besides… Suo’s always been fairly weak to charming little things like you.

ִׄ˚ • 𖥔 ࣪˖ ⭑ ₊ ⭒ *ೃ༄

You’re not sure how or even when (as your body is still in fight or flight mode and your mouth is still going) but eventually, there’s only one person standing in front of you – and it’s a stranger.

A kind, attractive stranger who’s just saved you.

And now, he’s comforting you, voice soft and smile gentle as he tells you that everything's okay now.

But you… well, you’re inconsolable. 

Not because you’ve just experienced a traumatic incident, no.

It’s because, well, you’ve just yapped like your life depended on it, in front of a man who had not only saved you, but also witnessed said incessant talking.

Embarrassed doesn’t even begin to explain the way that you feel right now.

You do your best to thank him in a polite and brief manner before going on your merry way, but he can see the way you’re gripping your bag and walking with a slight sway to your step.

And it would be rude, right? To let you walk home all alone? After experiencing something like this?

At least, that's what Suo tells himself before he sends Sakura and Nirei a quick message that he’ll be running late to meet with them.

Always the gentleman, Suo catches up with you and offers to walk you home.

The request catches you off guard more than you’d like to admit, so much so that all you can do is shyly nod with wide eyes when he asks if you’d like him to hold your school bag as well.

There’s a slight brush of your fingertips as you hand the bag to him, and you feel it coming.

You know what’s about to happen, but there’s no way in hell that you can stop what’s already begun.

And you, always the rambler, start talking about everything and anything that you can think of just to fill the silence between you.

He had chalked down your reaction earlier to being in a heightened state of panic, but, as he escorts you home, he realizes that – no, this is just how you are.

And it’d be a lie if he didn’t find it endearing.

When you’re delivered safe and sound, you promise to get him a gift to show your gratitude but he waves it off, saying that you don’t have to go out of your way to do so.

(He doesn’t tell you that he’d much rather just be in your company to see what else will spill from your pretty lips.)

ִׄ˚ • 𖥔 ࣪˖ ⭑ ₊ ⭒ *ೃ༄

You, however, weren’t one to let something like that go — especially for the person who’d saved you. You don’t catch his name (which is shocking because how did you forget to ask him such an important question amongst everything else), but that doesn’t discourage you – If there’s one thing that you are, it’s stubborn.

And also talkative.

You begin asking around, from your friends to your neighbors to even store employees, trying to get as much information about him as you can. 

You learn his name, that he’s a part of Bofurin (figures), that he enjoys drinking tea, and that he has an affinity for Chinese-styled clothing. But beyond that, the trail goes cold. It seems that he’s someone who keeps his tastes close to heart, so you’ve got no other choice but to work with what little you’ve learned.

Almost immediately, you tick off any tea related gifts in your mind. You ran exclusively on iced coffee and pure adrenaline, so – yeah. You definitely did not have the necessary judge of character needed to distinguish tea blends.

But! You don’t let that little roadblock deter you. Stubbornness can work wonders.

You rack your brain for what feels like ages on what gift could suit a man as mysterious as him, but a girl can only muse for so long – and you weren’t happy with any of your ideas thus far.

You could get him clothes, but you don’t know his size. You could treat him to a meal, but your sources tell you that he’s rarely ever seen eating. You could get him jewelry cleaner for his earrings, but you’re not quite sure of the materials that are in them.

It isn’t until you’re stuck in the campus library during one fateful cram session that it hits you – literature.

It suited him! It was the best of both worlds, you thought. It was heartfelt, and also of substance for a man of his caliber. And – it made sense!

(This also could’ve been an act of procrastination on your part, but you feign ignorance.)

You spend about half of an hour speaking to the librarian about what Chinese books get borrowed the most, and the other half scouring over the internet for recommendations and book reviews.

What you land on, after extensive research that really should’ve been spent on school (but whatever), is a book called “The Book of Songs: The Ancient Chinese Classic of Poetry”.

According to the librarian, this book is loaned at least once to twice a month, which is surprising considering that it’s not a required text for any of your school’s courses. What you take away from this, though, is that it’s popular. 

And when you see the 4.6 out of 5 rating, well – 

The people don’t lie. At least, you assume so. The librarian had also said that this was a classic for anyone interested in Chinese literature, and who were you to deny the suggestions of a clear expert in the matter?

And, when you slip in a handwritten note of yet another “thanks” with your number and name in the cover of the book, well, who could blame you?

You just wanted to know his thoughts on the book – that’s all.

Really.

But the thing is that you haven’t got the slightest clue on how to give it to him.

He wasn’t at Furin High anymore, so that wasn’t a solution. And – you weren’t so desperate to ask around for his address, so you find yourself stuck between a rock and a hard place.

So what do you do?

Like any sane person – you keep it in your book bag.

Eventually, right? Eventually, you’ll see him again, and you can just drop it in his hands before scurrying away like the little shy bumblebee you are. And if he doesn’t message you back? Hey – no worries! You’ll just do everything in your power to erase the interaction from your mind until your inevitable passing of old age!

Good god, you were starting to ramble in your head now.

‘Eventually’ becomes a safety word for you of sorts. It means the inevitable future, that’ll come sooner or later.

You just didn’t know that it would be today.

ִׄ˚ • 𖥔 ࣪˖ ⭑ ₊ ⭒ *ೃ༄

When your friend asks you to meet at Café Pothos after class so that you can get coffee, you answer with an immediate and desperate yes. 

But – 

Whether it was due to the all nighter you had pulled the night before, or the overwhelming workload you had been saddled with over the course of the past couple days – you’re not sure, but you swear that your eyes are playing tricks on you.

Because, lo and behold, sitting at the counter with the afternoon glow illuminating his side profile perfectly, is Suo.

And you feel all the air escape your lungs.

Your friend calls your name from a table just a little further into the café, but you can’t move – not with his gift weighing so heavy in your bag.

It isn’t until one of Suo’s friends, one with black and white hair, is nudging Suo with his shoulder and tilting his chin in the direction of you.

“Ya got someone staring – do you know ‘em?”

When Suo turns to you, eye wide with surprise and his mouth just slightly parted, you can’t help but feel like a moron because – you’d forgotten just how handsome he really is.

And when he gets up from his chair to meet you in the café’s doorway, you try to bite back the words that are already forming at the tip of your tongue. 

“Oh, it’s you! It’s been a while since I last saw you – Sorry, I didn’t get your name last time. What was it?”

You take a deep breath in, willing the monstrosity that’s your mouth to calm down just the slightest. 

Just one question. He just asked one question. Even a grade school child could answer this without getting distracted. You could absolutely do this.

You, with all the willpower that you can muster, let your name flow out before immediately clamping down on your tongue.

But then, Suo tilts his head in a playful manner as he lets your name roll off his tongue, as if practicing it for future use, and at that point, even cement would serve powerless against the impulse of your mouth.

And you break.

“Ah! By the way – remember when I said I would get you a gift? You know, for saving me last time? That was so scary, haha, and I just wanted to thank you again for helping me out that day. I got you this poetry book, I hope you like it! I wasn’t sure what you’d like, and I didn’t know what else I could get you, but this has really good reviews! I even spoke to my school librarian about it! 4.6 out of 5, can you believe that? So, I hope it lives up to the praise, haha, but let me know if it doesn’t! If it doesn’t, well, I’m sure I can find something else for you… by the way, I –”

Okay, so you couldn’t do it.

You’re interrupted by the low whistling of one of Suo’s friends, and you blink rapidly before throwing your hand over your mouth.

But Suo, well – 

He’s looking down at you with a hint of fondness in his eye, but you wouldn’t know that, not with the way that your gaze is glued to the floor.

You did it again, and this time, with an audience. 

Briefly, you wonder if it’s too late for you to ask for the book back so that you can pathetically stuff your note into your pocket – and then burn it later.

But the book’s already in his hands, and the words have already left your mouth.

“... I think I talk too much,” you mumble as you tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, suddenly very well aware that Suo’s barely said less than 30 words compared to your whopping 124.

This wasn’t what you had wanted, but you just couldn’t help it.

He laughs, though, and goes to gently pat your head.

“Maybe so…”

He pats twice, before trailing the tips of his fingers gently down the side of your face.

“... but I’m a good listener.”

He ends his words with a playful tap of his finger to the tip of your nose, but all you can do is gape in response.

God, he really was just way too nice.

(He was not, in fact, just being nice – but you’d find this out much, much later.)

ִׄ˚ • 𖥔 ࣪˖ ⭑ ₊ ⭒ *ೃ༄

To your surprise, Suo actually likes hanging out with you. Or at least, that’s what he says, but you’re not so sure. Not when you’re doing most of the talking, and he’s leaning his chin on his hand as he listens. 

Sometimes, and you hate when you do this, but you wonder if he’s just taking pity on you.

You don’t like to think about it too much, don’t like to feed the insecurity that dwells deep in your heart, but sometimes, you can’t help it.

And it’s not like you’ve never heard it before – the comments of “you’re so loud” or “do you ever breathe?” or, and this is your personal favorite, “you talk too much.”

Because yeah – you know, you’re aware.

It’s easy to laugh it off, and you do every time, but when you’re alone at night, with just you and your thoughts, you can’t help but create a daily habit – 

One where you replay everything that you’ve said that day, and you try to critique yourself.

Oh, I spoke too much during that – I’ve got to tone it down. 

Yikes, I got a little loud there – I need to speak softer.

Oops, I went on a tangent – I need to cut myself off.

And honestly? This habit becomes your bread and butter, despite how detrimental you know it is. Because the reality is, you’d much rather hear it from yourself than others.

But, being with Suo – 

Well, he doesn’t let you. 

Doesn’t let you tone it down, or speak softer, or cut yourself off.

Because he’s just as invested in what you’re saying as you are – and the feeling of that is …

“Tell me more – I’m listening.”

“I can’t hear you love, can you speak up?”

“Why’d you stop? It was just getting interesting.”

Well, it’s indescribable to you.

And, he does this soft little hum as he listens to you, and everytime, everytime it has you stumbling over your words just the slightest.

(You don’t catch the way that the corners of his lips perk up at the sound.)

And suddenly – you don’t have to bite back your tongue around him anymore. 

You can just be you, with no restrictions, no second guessing, no worries.

“I don’t get it,” you admitted once during one of your walks around your neighborhood (you’d needed a break from studying, and luckily, he just happened to be in the area for patrol), “I’m only like this when I’m around you.”

Suo laughs, and you feel your chest tighten just a bit at the sound, because his laugh was, well – 

The only word you can use to describe it is addictive.

And it always, always left you with butterflies in your stomach.

“That’s okay – I’d prefer it, actually.”

Your steps falter at his words, and he continues.

“I’d prefer if you’re only like this around me.”

That night, you’re left at your doorstep with rosy cheeks – and you’re 100% sure that it’s not due to the humid summer weather.

But you had to give it to him – he really was a good listener.

And, he had great memory.

Most of the time, you’d only really understand and process half the words that fly out of  your mouth, but Suo was able to process all of it.

If you absentmindedly mentioned that you’d really liked the coffee at this one café in Makochi, he’s asking if you’re free the coming weekend so that he can try their assortment of tea.

And when the cashier asks if you both are together, you innocently answer with a cheerful yes and fall into a tangent about how you’d loved their drinks so much that he’d wanted to try them too and now you’re both here to hang out and try more of their menu!

Suo doesn’t find it necessary to clarify what the cashier actually meant – not with the way that your answer sounds so right to him. 

Because yes, you were together, even if you yourself weren’t aware of it yet.

(A hangout in your eyes. A date in his.)

If you had an upcoming deadline, Suo was always diligently checking in with you. He’d send a text every couple of days, asking how it’s going and the efforts that you’ve made towards it – and you have to admit that while it was helpful, it was also extremely unnecessary.

Unnecessary only because you enjoyed procrastinating, but with a man like this, you simply couldn’t.

…

Okay, fine – so maybe you don’t have as many sleepless nights because you’re well ahead of your projected timeline. So maybe you spend less time cramming for tests because you’ve already reviewed the practice exam like three times. So maybe you’re able to lower your overall stress levels by actually adhering to the plans that you’ve set up for yourself.

So what?

It’s… it’s not like that was a problem before, right?

It absolutely was – but again, you’re stubborn, remember?

(Nagging in your eyes. Thoughtfulness in his.)

And, it’s during one of your “hangouts”, that Suo presses his luck.

He should’ve known, really, that it’d go through one ear and out the other, but he blames it on his unrivaled, optimistic spirit – and maybe just a smidge of wishful thinking.

Because introducing you as his special girl should’ve raised some flags in your mind, right?

It should’ve made you wonder – hm, why am I Suo’s special girl?

He swears he can see the gears turning in your head. 

But you’re you, so you take whatever it is that you thought it meant and you run with it.

And now, you’re introducing yourself to all of the past Bofurin members as his best friend, which – 

Not completely off base, but not at all what he was expecting from the situation.

And, when a couple of them send eyes of sympathy in his direction, all he can do is force a strained smile as he guides you, with his hand on your waist, to yet another group of people who will undoubtedly follow suit.

(Kindness in your eyes. Affection in his.)

At this point, you’re sure that he could read you like an open book – and he can.

He can read you so well, in fact, that he knows that you’re as dense as they come.

Because for months, Suo’s been playing the long game.

He’s been taking you out on dates, showering you with affection, and basically professing his devotion – all to show you what a great partner he could be for you.

But you – adorable, clueless, dense you. You just couldn’t quite get the hint, could you?

So, when Suo has to pull out the big guns to really get it through your thick skull (he thinks this in an affectionate way, he swears) – well, you only have yourself to blame.

Because how could someone so perfect be so damn oblivious?

ִׄ˚ • 𖥔 ࣪˖ ⭑ ₊ ⭒ *ೃ༄

“You’re aware that I have feelings for you, right?”

You’d been stargazing for the past 10 minutes, fingers just barely touching as you’re both splayed out on the blanket laid out below you.

It was supposed to be a fun little hangout as you celebrate the end of the quarter, but now, you’re starting to realize that maybe, just maybe – 

You blink, before sitting up.

He repeats his words, slower now, while rising up with you.

You blink again, slower now, as your brain processes what he’s just said.

It takes all of about 5 seconds before you open your mouth, ready to default back to your factory settings of rambling but –

Nothing comes out.

Suo had managed to stun you into silence for the first time in your life with less than 10 words.

And, judging by the pleased smile on his lips and the glint in his eye – he knows this.

This was a golden opportunity, after all. So, Suo takes advantage of it while he can.

Whether this is revenge for the past couple of months though, he’s not sure – but, he always was fairly petty.

“You’re so silly, you know that love?”

Your mouth, still open, can only close in response.

He presses on.

“You are, and this isn’t a compliment, the most oblivious person I’ve ever fallen for.”

Your breath hitches at his words.

“You never once left my mind after our first meeting – and when I saw you again at the café, well, I thought it was fate. It had to be – because how was I lucky enough to get to meet you again?”

You bite your tongue, this time not to hold back your words, but instead, to try and get your mouth to start working again.

“And it’s funny – because I managed to fall for someone who can capture the attention of strangers with just mere words, but somehow can’t see that I’ve been following them around like a lost, lovesick puppy since the day we crossed paths.”

You’re at a loss for why your mouth still won’t move.

“So if this still isn’t enough for you to finally see how deeply I feel for you, then I’m not sure what else I can do that’s still within the bounds of being a gentleman because –”

And finally, finally you’re able to cut him off – with a soft press of your lips to his cheek.

“... I‘m sorry Suo … but I think ... you talk too much.”

What can you say? You were never a patient person – and right now, with his feelings finally so clear to you, well… 

You were an idiot. To think, you could’ve done that so much earlier.

It takes him a second to process your words, cheek still reminiscing the brief contact of your lips on his skin, but – 

He gazes down at you, with a coy smile on his face and mirth in his eyes – and you can see it so clearly on his face, that feeling of triumph.

Because although he’d spent the past couple of months yearning for your affection, he wasn’t prepared for how rewarding it would be when you finally reciprocated.

“I suppose you’re rubbing off on me.”

Then, as an afterthought, he adds –

“I’m suddenly feeling very talkative. Will you, by any chance, be using that method to silence me right here?”

And when he taps on his lips with his finger, well – 

You weren’t dense enough to not understand what he was asking for.

And this time, when your lips meet his, he’s ready.

He snakes one arm around your waist to pull you onto his lap, with the other cupping the side of your face, and you melt.

It’s soft and drawn out and perfect, with both your lips parted just so – and there’s only one word that runs through both of your minds when you kiss.

Finally.

And, when your lips part, your bodies don’t. Instead, Suo presses his forehead against yours, and you feel your eyes flutter at the gesture.

God, you really were an idiot.

“By the way – that book you gave me, I realize now that I never got to let you know how much I liked it.”

You blink at his words, still in a daze from his lips on yours.

“How did you know that was my favorite book?”

You furrow your brows at his words, because you did not know that.

And Suo knows that you didn’t – but he continues.

Because, well, what can he say? You really were rubbing off on him.

“I loan it every month through one of my friends in Bofurin. Although, it’s nice to have my own copy now – especially since it’s from you.”