#i thought i was gonna do great i was focusing on reflexes and how i reacted to them

[nexus-nebulae]

literally had a dream just to remind myself how low my pain tolerance is i guess 😔

[noisyquokka]

Lights Out

PAIRING - Changmin x GN!Reader

SYNOPSIS - Changmin finds out you're a bit of a scaredy-cat and starts pranking you. Little does he know, you have a few of your own tricks up your sleeve.

WORDCOUNT - 1.7k

WARNINGS - Humor, Roommate!Changmin, some cursing, mentions of rodents (although they're fake), this is literally just two roommates testing each other, very sibling coded

A/N - Short n' sweet... also a little silly 🤠 just a funny lil thought I had!

"Fucking hell- Changmin!!"

Footsteps can be heard from down the hall, each one taken with purpose as Changmin counted down to the very last second that his bedroom door would swing open. The hinges protest to your intrusion like they always do, your shadow shifting away from the doorframe. He side-eyes you from his spot on his bed, quick reflexes catching the giant rat that he'd planted in your bedroom hours ago.

"Woah, that's one big rodent!" He feigns horror, patting the rubber rodent's stomach dramatically. Changmin should be a little worried by the daggers you're shooting at him, but he can't be bothered. Even when you grab for a pillow from his bed.

"Quit hiding shit in my room!!" Each word is followed by one hefty wallop. He leans away, bringing a hand up to shield the brunt of them. Still, he continues to tease.

"You found this in your room?!" He asks, wide-eyes flitting between you and the rat. "I told you to clean, didn't I? Rats love junk food!"

"I'm gonna kill you, Ji Changmin." You mutter, and for a moment, Changmin feels a chill run up his spine. You had muttered those words a little too calmly. But he rolls his eyes and waves you off, focusing back on the video game he was playing prior to you barging in.

"At least go and clean your room first. I have a game to beat."

He runs a hand through his tousled hair, grabs the controller and unpauses the game. You groan, throwing the pillow at his head and rushing out of the room. 

For the past months, you've had to deal with this. You'd been evicted from your apartment due to noise complaints from older neighbors and there were no other affordable apartments nearby. Anxiety had reared it's ugly head at the idea that you may be stuck couch surfing for a while, or worse. So when your best friend, Chanhee, had mentioned Changmin's extra bedroom, you thought you'd heard angels singing. After all, you'd met Changmin a few times and the two of you got on pretty well.

What you hadn't known about was his little obsession for horror. All it took was one conversation about how much you disliked scary movies and you knew you screwed up. It was a week after you moved in that Changmin planted the first prank; a whole grudge girl in the shower. You hadn't noticed it until you peeled the shower curtain back, greeted by a mop of black hair and pale white complexion. To say you had been surprised would be the understatement of the century. You had yelped so loudly, that your neighbors checked in to make sure everything was alright. Answering the door with a towel on was embarrassing enough without giving them the reason for your shrieks. To top it all off, he wasn't even home when it all went down. That didn't stop you from chewing him out over text.

And so, days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months, each prank getting less and less tame. And you slowly grew restless over the whole fiasco. Sure, it was funny at first. Now it was getting old.

You flopped down on your bed, face down into the pillow. Disgruntled and exhausted. In reality, Changmin was a great roommate. He was never late on rent, cleaned up after himself, cooked on the nights you didn't eat out, and never complained about the friends you had over. He was also a pretty good listener when you needed a shoulder to lean on. The only complaint you were allowed at this point was the constant attempts to scare you. And with Halloween around the corner, you were sure he was concocting something crazier. Most of his pranks had been much too tame when it came to a horror fan. You weren't sure if that was just Changmin being nice enough to keep them that way, or if he was building up for something. Either way, you weren't gonna sit idly by and allow him another chance to scare you.

You roll onto your back, eyes closed as you take a deep breath.

"You want war, Ji Changmin?"

Your gaze settles on the ceiling above, daggers in the drywall.

"I'll give you war."

—

The apartment door shuts with a thud as Changmin slips his shoes off at the door. The bags hang off his arms in a swath, socked feet thumping against the hall floor as he makes his way into the kitchen. The TV in the living room hums the score of a familiar movie, and Changmin turns his head to see you curled up on the sofa. His eyes flit to the TV screen.

"How many times can one person rewatch Piranha in a year?"

"You're cute. I could watch this once a day for the rest of the year, better watch yourself." You quip, glancing over the back of the sofa with a teasing glint in your eye.

The man scoffs, but a quirk of a smirk finds his lips as he sets the bags on the counter.

"Or you could help with putting all this away while I start on dinner..." He says. You roll your eyes but you get up anyway, pausing the movie. "I thought you didn't like horror."

"I don't." You reply, glancing at him with an arched brow. Brown eyes watch as you round the sofa, deft fingers reaching for one of the shopping bags sitting on the counter. 

"You're aware that's a horror movie, right?" He asks, his lips tilting in a sly grin as he begins pulling the ingredients for tonight's dinner from a bag. 

"But it's pretty stupid more than scary." 

"Ah yes, the idea of piranhas eating me alive isn't terrifying at all!" He rolled his eyes, turning to the cutting board on the opposite counter. You mirror his reaction with a muttered, "shut it" that has both of you biting back smiles. The unpacking begins.

You're fairly quick, thanks to Changmin's bagging abilities. Everything is always organized by where they go in the kitchen; pantry items, refrigerated items, frozen items... it makes your job easier. By the time you're finished, the apartment is beginning to smell like a home-cooked meal. The aroma of savory spices fill your nostrils. Your stomach groans, and you glance over to the cutting board where Changmin is busy slicing up vegetables.

"Everything's packed away." You tell him, grabbing a drink from the fridge.

"Thanks. Dinner should be ready in a few."

He's so focused on slicing the carrots he'd bought, but he doesn't miss your presence to his left. Swift fingers that snag a freshly-sliced carrot to the side of the cutting board. He looks over, his eyes flitting to your shoulders as you slink back toward the living room sofa. Back to your pretty stupid horror movie.

It isn't longer than thirty minutes that Changmin's sitting down beside you with two rice bowls in his hands. He slides the bowls onto the table, settling into the cushions with a heavy sigh. You thank him and dig in, watching as the credits roll on the current episode. He takes a bite, brown eyes shifting to you.

"Think we could watch a horror movie or something?"

"Respectfully, Changmin, you watch horror movies all year long." You mumble, swallowing the food in your mouth. "Plus, this is a horror movie. You said so, yourself."

"Respectfully, you've watched this movie like forty times since you moved in two months ago."

You stare him down for a long moment, eyes narrowed.

"Touché..." You huff, reaching for the remote. "Which movie?"

"Train to Busan?"

"Classic..."

"Hey, it's a good movie!" He argues, gaze set firmly on the television screen as you search through the streaming services collection for said title.

"Yeah, I know." You say, a smirk pulling your lips. You bring another fork full of rice and veggies to your mouth, waiting for the titles to load when Changmin goes to sit up.

"I need a bathroom break, hang on."

"Mm, can you grab my phone in my room?" You ask. "It's on the charger by my nightstand."

"Yeah, yeah. I'll grab your blanket to shield your eyes, too." He mutters the last part, but it's loud enough to hear.

"Oh, har har!" You scoff, earning yourself a crooked grin from over his shoulder as he disappears down the hall.

His feet pad down the hall, fingers slipping over the bedroom door that you had left ajar. Brown eyes lock on the cellular device sitting on the surface of the side table, full battery icon on the screen. Changmin pulls the charger from the device and turns back toward the door, stopping short. Brown eyes blink.

In the darkness of the adjacent bathroom, a humanoid shadow stands in the mirror. The bathroom light clicks on, illuminating the space in a warm glow. But the shadow is gone. Changmin's brow furrows, tilting his head as he slowly approaches the door. Slender fingers reach around the doorframe for the bathroom light switch, and the flip of the switch perks his ears, shrouding the bathroom in darkness once more. The shadow reappears, flinching in the glaze of the mirror and Changmin jumps in the slightest. He flips the light on again.

"What the hell-"

The light above the mirror flickers until it blows, and the shadow in the mirror reappears, cocking its head like a dog. Just as Changmin is about to call for you, the figure is jumping toward him.

You hear the thundering footsteps down the hallway, but you can't help yourself. The poker face isn't salvageable. When Changmin rounds the corner, he's panting and ready to tell you to call the cops. That there's an intruder in the apartment. But here you sit on the sofa, doubled over with tears in your eyes and a stomach ache brewing. It's then and there that Ji Changmin pieces everything together.

"You fucking suck, you know that." He tosses your phone at you and you scramble for it before it hits your stomach.

"What's wrong, Changmin?" You ask, wiping the tears from your eyes. "I thought you could handle the horrors and spooks."

"How'd you even do that?"

"Oh, just a little projection device above the door frame." You smirk, clearly proud of yourself. Changmin just stares, mouth open as he goes through the five stages of grief.

"I thought you were scared of shit like that?"

You shrug.

"Guess it changes you when you spend the last two months getting pranked by your roommate..."

It's safe to say you were victorious, as the pranks stopped altogether after that evening.

SPOOKTOBER MASTERLIST || Requests are open!!

[iaus]

fucking. you stole capital letters from me. i feel wrung out in the best way possible to the point that capitalization of any kind would be wrong right now. fuck. god. amazing stunning job.

anyways ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ literally anything about epilogue or anything you want. i feel insane.

eheh glad to see the ending is hitting as intended. and oh i do have something i would like to talk about because chapter 15 jace is my ultimate beloved. wretched little man.

we're gonna look at the second scene from the last chapter because i think it gives us a glimpse of honest jace. and how he's changed.

so our second scene has jace just being like really pissed. he talks about how he's a resentful of his human mother (because he can't get to sleep), he has like an actual angry reaction when he sees the marriage certificate, and nearly falls down the stairs and is able to reflexively cast a spell! which considering his fixation on his magic, you'd think he would be focusing on that. like hey you are not a heaving sweaty mess from casting your own magic? isn't that great?

no.

he has a thought about porter because of course he does (and i mean, he's looking at the sex couch so, yea). but:

But the thought he has cuts through, sharp: What if Porter doesn’t want to return? What if Porter chooses death over Jace?

i'm gonna definitely give a shoutout to @zukkacore for this line because seeing posts of "jace chose porter over death" have like. changed me on a fundamental level. i've internalized that.

but this comes back to jace actually looking at something he's insecure at! yay! he's reflecting! wait...

A cold seeping pit of dread begins to form in the pit of his chest. His pulse rabbits into something close to panic. What if by some strange stroke of luck, His soul is unwilling? Where does that leave Jace? Or, worse: What if Porter comes back ungrateful?

and then we get to this being like... okay maybe he's going to have another grief spiral... as he's been doing... we have all the tell-tale signs: he's cold, he's panicking, he doubting if porter would choose him. (i don't think i'm ready to have the conversation of jace having meredith gray coding in my head yet. we're not ready)

but... jace has a very notable reaction. he's been so grief stricken this entire fic but... here:

The reaction is immediate—he is moving, bumping into the wall in his haste to get to the papers on the breakfast table—almost as immediate as the rushing, icy swell of disdain—spite.

he gets mad. he chooses ACTION. he storms into the kitchen and has... almost a porter-ish reaction in some ways. but it's also very distinct. but, porter is still here to him, no matter where he goes and he even imagines porter mocking him:

A damning tide of disgust. He can see it clearly—the way Porter would wrap a hand around his throat, eyes hard and distant, What took you so long, pet? You were supposed to be better than this.

the worst thing to jace isn't porter not coming back. this is a truth that shows a little peek into jace's mind: he would rather porter stay dead than porter be ungrateful. and then we cut into a scene where he thinks about him and porter in the kitchen and unlike these past chapters he actually... includes a really bad, telling memory in my opinion:

Jace’s hand trembles as he draws the marriage certificate from the folder. The rest of the documents spill out along the table—the table Porter served him breakfast at, where they had had a screaming match that caused one of Porter’s neighbors to call the landline and ask, nervously, if everything was okay. Where Porter had kissed his neck, hid his face from Jace as he said so sweetly, Come back to me, sweetheart, we’re meant to do this together.

we now know they have fought so bad, so loud that neighbors have called asking if everything is okay. this also could presumably be where porter convinced jace to go to the mountains of chaos with him. for their.... wedding. so we get a little glimpse into the not so happy marital bliss (but even then it's still softened. there's still a bit of a longing ache to it.)

and now. this is one of my favorite parts i will admit:

If he comes back ungrateful, he thinks, the ghost of Porter’s lips warm at his pulse, I��ll kill him. He pictures the blood; the way Porter would struggle—still weak from the sickness of returning to the mortal plane. The intimacy.

this is jace changed. to me this is very porter-like behavior. jace is taking pages from porter's book the day he is meant to resurrect him. he is thinking of how he is going to kill porter himself if he is not grateful and fawning.

and.... we learn what will happen if he does kill porter:

He puts his lighter against the corner of the certificate. Truly, he outdid himself. Strikes the flint. Then I’ll follow. Watches it burn.

they're in this together.

or they're buried together.

[chidoroki]

182 Days of TPN - Day 61

Chapter 61: “Try Surviving”

I don’t think I ever really focused on the trees in this forest before.. I just thought they were the same as the previous forest the kiddos traveled through. I had no memory of these trees being so sturdy. No wonder they don’t snap under a demon’s weight. The melting candle imagery is a nice way to describe them too, I never noticed that either.

What the hell chapter was it during the GF arc where I mentioned how I wanted to see Ray use the pocket watch more?? Because there it is! (That’s such an adorable, tiny Emma too).

When it comes to the fullscore trio and how they reached the ranks of premium goods, I always think of Norman being naturally smart, Ray earning his knowledge from studying (alongside his ability to remember everything) and Emma learning by practice. So with that, it’s no surprise she picks up Yuugo’s habits so quickly.

And with Ray always being so observant, he’s able to pick up on similar practices too, especially if it deals with staying alive. He can definitely spot a trick or two when an adult is being shady.

Yuugo describes them perfectly. Emma always gives the final “okay” and follows through with the plan of action, but only thanks to all the insight she receives from Ray. So naturally on the flip side, Ray has all this knowledge about anything and everything, but leaves the final decision to Emma as leader. Both roles are highly important to any team, and while they can function well enough on their own, they excel when working together. And I just?? Love their dynamic so damn much?? How they’re such great characters individually yet despite their different methods, roles and ways of thinking, they support each other so well as a duo and bring out the best in one another as well, like.. FUCK. I LOVE THEM. 

Praise this lad and his quick reflexes! Not the first and thankfully not the last time he’ll show them off either.

While the fake out death is concerning for a brief moment til the next page, it reminds me that it’s Ray’s gun that Emma picks up here. He’s the only one between them who opted to bring a firearm from the armory since Emma stuck with the bow & arrows. (she has the small pistol yeah, but the size and function are both obviously different.)

Pftt, how dare he laugh at our poor girl’s expense! C’mon story, let Ray use more colorful words.. like bastard! OR BETTER YET, let him say fuck! Something fun!

Why do big, bad enemies always gotta have a phase two nowadays, huh?

Ah Yuugo.. he’s about to have the time of his life and for all the wrong reasons. Our precious kids are certainly gonna have a rough couple days following this mad man.

Favorite panel/moment:

HELP. Father and son are fighting.

End of volume 7.

[unsleepingtales]

Mentopolis Ep 3! We have life things so this is late but we press on

Freddie said the whole thing!

Just a damp damp man 😐

Once again. We need Stacy Fakename merch pls.

I love the wonkaness of Gobstopper Industries

IT MOVES

The heart being the Boston to the brain’s New York is interesting

Phrenology lmao

I slap him. I kiss him.

Hunch keeping so much stuff in his pants is such a Choice

I really think it’s a phone buzzing and not a sexy thing because Elias is so convinced he doesn’t deserve pleasure that I don’t he would do that

If not ___, ___? is such a great sequence I’m gonna rewatch that several times probably

Turn yourself in to who???

Every part of the brain can notice conscience but pleasure. Sometimes the dice do really cool things.

The Fix being vaguely southern always cracks me up

Conrad not wanting to say fucks aw

He’s the only one who can DRIVE

Bro WHAT

Hank why

Ooh yay psychometer info

This thing could alter thoughts. Ok.

Evillll

I love lengthy lore drops. I love them so much.

That wave is designed to create impulses maybe?

The editing is simultaneously really cool and gonna give me a headache

This thing erases color from the mind? Does it erase memory?

This boiling down to ‘has the government been corrupted by external capitalist forces or was the already corrupt government merely enabled by this capitalist presence’ is incredibly interesting

Cool! Very convenient!

OH the reflexive switchboard yay

F for freezer!

Hunch why do you wanna see Anastasia’s apartment

Trapp is so great I don’t think I’ve appreciated him enough

I think killing the conscience will probably not save the life of someone who has been thrown out of a window

Hank what

“It’s about what happens when you’re the next age” I’m gonna cry?

What

Babe what

(a ballad of balls on tracks)

Oooh does the Fucks family also have keys

(everyone getting a kick out of the foot fetish joke)

Hank jostling Freddie because he’s so delighted <3

Splitting the partyyyyyy

fLiGhT 😉

Uncle Hunch and Uncle Fucks 🥲

Dome!

So many hats!

Imelda Pulse supportive cousin of the year <3

The cops. Great.

Something that ladies wear … …

Imelda Pulse coat rack of the year <3

Oh nooo

She’s just sooo estranged from her faaaamily she doesn’t know her cousiiiins

The commitment Siobhan has keeping her arms like that for the whole scene

The Police 😐

Incredible sneak skills

Threw a robe over her trench coat I’m dead

Yeah a newspaperwoman would have to get pretty good at lying lol

Iconic trio

Why is he the only one who can drive 😭

He really just lives to make people uncomfortable

Oooh d20 explosion

Why does he drive like that

BRENNAN WHY IS THAT YOUR DEFAULT ROCK

Put that tongue back in your mouth SIR.

(group trying to hold back laughter to keep it tense…)

(and failing)

The word fight is losing all meaning

I was gonna say Gilear energy but he’s honestly more confident than Gilear.

Self doubt is so strong and dominance is so weak.

I feel like dominance being weak is a trick tho. It feels too simple.

Also. Self Doubt isn’t even a pun of any kind his name is just straight up his job.

I just was busy.

Why is fight russian

Conrad is so sassy today

IVANA POPOV

What

The fuck just happened

The poor Fakename family

Box of Doom!!

The one thing that always bugs me is the box is never level and I don’t know if that affects how the die rolls

What a power

YEAH BABY

How are the fakenames even a family. What concept are they.

Dice are cool

One of those inflatable clowns that are weighted at the bottom so they bounce up whenever you hit them

(the crowd goes wild for Stacy Fakename)

I love character feats!

Flight was in control when Elias got hurt. Interesting.

I love how Hunch just has cartoon logic

I also forget that I’m playing and not just watching a story sometimes

You like my facts right?

FACT ALERT

PELICAN FACT ALERT

Oh god

Hank leaning into being intimidating is so good to watch

Man. Okay.

Oh that’s so cool. Focusing on breathing lowers the pressure. That’s so good.

What are you close to achieving

That’s SO fucked up

What

Who are you

What

Is this fucking adderall or something

Probably the psychometer. But it would be an interesting take for it to be meds lol.

BRENNAN.

[loversdelusions]

Villain Deku and Villain Wifu Deku own my heart ❤️ Since you wrote Yandere Deku’s wedding, could I ask how other versions of Deku would marry you/ the subsequent disasters that don’t/do happen at their weddings?

Good Question!

See, Deku himself while still a scatterbrain, he isn't about to let things run wild. I don't think yandere Deku would allow that interruption in his wedding, he's too on top of things, the only reason he would allow this man into the venue is to teach you a lesson. so that went great!

Part 1: Villain Deku, Villain Waifu Deku

Villain Deku: ❦ Memorable.❦

Villain Deku has a bad rep, but he isn't so villainous to you.

He's sweet and caring, and would literally kill for you. So your wedding is a banger. He's not so traditional, but he'd enjoy some traditional things. Except he doesn't really think his choices through. Which is a problem.

While Yandere Deku takes care of his problem discreetly, Villain Izuku isn't as subtle. No one would dare disrupt his wedding.

The outburst really took you out of the whole romantic dark ambience.

villains, heroes, families alike, turned and gazed over the angry red-faced group who had somehow made it inside. "How in the fuck is anyone okay with being among fucking villains? you aren't going to stop this?!"

A pointed look at Bakugou, who stood a step down from where the happy couple were ready to tie the knot. Izuku glanced at his best man. "What? Are you not gonna do anything?"

You could have smacked him for the stupid question. Still, you could hear the mocking tone in his happy voice, "No?" Bakugou glanced back at Izuku and glowered, and you could see the laughter bubbling behind Deku's cheerful mask. " Well, that's too bad."

You couldn't have seen what was about to happen, and it couldn't have manifested in any more of fucking nightmare. The moment the screams rang out was almost overshadowed by the loud ear bursting gunshot that was way too close to you for comfort. It was a fucking instinct, that the moment the shot rang out you ducked and gripped your fiancee's suit and pulled him down with you. Panic surged in your veins almost as equal to the amount of blood that your racing heart was pushing. You surely cursed the choice of champagne to pre-game your wedding, because with the overwhelming noise and screams your groggily frisk Izukus body, mind racing with thoughts of losing something you barely had in the first place.

Only, Deku isn't shot. Izuku is fine, he's alive, he's okay! and...

He's laughing?

"Oh my god! that's fucking hilarious!" He sat up abruptly, almost knocking you over. Though he couldn't have that. He gripped your face and pressed his lips against yours. "God, you make me feel alive," He whispered which was almost lost over the screaming, but it didn't help calm your concern or the fact that your wedding was in shambles.

"What the fuck is going on?!" You yelled, hoping that he'd hear you over the chaos. Though looking at your finaceé laughing to himself made it quite clear that something isn't exactly right. Now, you narrowed your eyes at him. "What did you do?"

His eyes glint in the way that you knew only promised chaos that he'd surely revel in.

Protip: don't marry chaos if you enjoy your plans working out exactly as you want.

Izuku focused pretty quick when he saw an angry ball of fire heading towards both of you. His reflexes are much quicker, and suddenly you're sitting in his arms and his jumping midair. Following his gaze, you were met with his best man, angry and surrounded by smouldering ashy grounds.

What the fuck?

"Yo, Kacchan, maybe don't try to kill the groom on his wedding day," Izuku snarked, flashing a grin at the already furious Katsuki. Had you comprehended things you'd have quickly noticed that Izuku was playing. He was toying with the hero, on your wedding day. "Have some manners."

"Izuku!" you hissed into his ear. "Put me the fuck down."

"You can't run in your dress, love. And I like the dress. I really, really like that dress. You're not about to rip it."

"I am about to rip you a new one. Set me the fuck down!"

He did not.

Life isn't fair. You didn't get the wedding you wanted. Especially noting that your husband shot a man in the middle of your ceremony. Though Karma did rip your dress and he was grumpy about it all through the way home.

At least it is memorable, right?

Villain Waifu Deku: ❦ Today's the day! ❦

Today's a big day.

It's your wedding day.

After months of planning, and I truly mean planning every little detail being written in thirteen different fully developed notebooks, finally, it is the day. You let Izuku take charge of the wedding planning, Funnily enough, you hadn't really thought through why the biggest villain in Japan was taking notes during some of his attacks. Well, you did once, because of it being singed once by one of the fire emitter heroes, while that hero did live, he was badly burned, and walked away severely hurt, he had to retire.

To say he was serious about this wedding, would be an understatement. you really finally understood it from that one time you had called your wedding a 'big party,' and he almost uninvited you.

Now that you were sitting next to your husband, husband! eating cake and food and listening to toasts, and you gazed at the man you had just promised eternity, he was focused on friends and family, and you could only sit there think of how lucky you were that he was there. Even if you could see that sadness in his eyes when he saw his friends who'd become heroes while he didn't get the chance.

It made your heart drop, and your hand found his thigh, and the glance he sent your way almost made you think you were wrong. The blush covered his face like he was back in middle school again. Your wedding was perfect.

Your partner was perfect.

You were happy. And maybe it was selfish of you to think like this, but you were slightly happy that he wasn't in the hero business. You wanted to keep him safe just as much he wanted to save people.

Then you saw his eyes shift to the back door of the venue. You almost asked what was going on but Izuku didn't allow a moment of hesitation. He kissed you, and for a moment you were alone together, everyone around the room disappeared. Until of course, the room began to cheer.

"I love you, darling." He grinned while pulling away. You sat there blushing and a bit in shock of his taking the chance to kiss you. "Go dance, I have something to check on."

"Do you want me to help? What are you checking on?"

"No," He laughed, so naturally it immediately made you relax. "It's okay, I planned everything to take the pressure off you. I'll take care of everything, go grab a drink."

Surely, it was fine. He kissed your forehead one more time, "Grab me an old-fashioned, okay?"

You nodded, and made your way to the bar, getting swarmed by people with congratulations and questions.

Izuku was glad you let him take care of things. He saw how swamped you were at work and how much pressure you had, he couldn't let you worry about your wedding, especially since he promised you he'd take care of everything so you could party and have some much-needed fun.

So he couldn't exactly tell you that he saw one of his 'work acquaintances' sneak into the back of the venue.

Or that he found the vent loosened.

Or that there was a bomb in one of them.

[narumi-gens]

Okay but would Naoya have a secret breeding kink when blue ball queen was dirty talking him about “filling her up” or would he just be infuriated 👁 👄 👁

note: even a broken computer isn't enough to keep me from digging in the trash 😣 warnings: smut, impreg kink, misogyny (naoya, duh) words: 1.7k (because I’m the trash queen) related drabbles

As Naoya watches you underneath him, practically folded in half from the way he's pushing your knees to your chest with his hands on the backs of your thighs, he finds himself angrier than usual.

But for once, he can't blame it on you despite how much he wants to. He can't blame it on your disrespectful mouth that never shuts up or your inability to recognize him as your better.

No, he's angry at himself. Because instead of focusing on the way your tits bounce with every brutal thrust or how your fingers are furiously rubbing at your swollen clit or the string of moans escaping you, all he can pay attention to is your stomach.

Or more precisely, all he can pay attention to is the thought of what it would look like if he didn't pull out like he usually does.

The last thing he wants is for you to end up pregnant with his kid. He doesn't need any bastard kids running around, especially not ones that would tie him to you for the rest of his life.

But the thought pumping you so full of his cum that your pussy is overflowing is too tempting for him to ignore. He imagines your stomach swelling, your tits getting big, your body changing like nature intended because of him. 

In spite of himself, he finds his hips pounding into your ass even harder as his grip on your thighs tightens.

He wants to be the one to show you that all you're good for besides fucking is getting pregnant and having kids. He wants to force you to accept that you are truly the weaker sex by design. He’ll make you see that any notions you have about "self-worth" and "agency" are nothing more than misconceptions.

He’ll turn you from a foul-mouthed, ill-tempered, disrespectful jujutsu sorcerer into a wife and mother who bows her head when she talks to him and knows her place. 

The thought of breaking you in is so tantalizing that it almost has him coming on the spot.

"Gonna show ya," he pants, his eyes squeezing shut as his mind paints the image of you so fucking big with his kid on the backs of his eyelids. "Ya ain't good fer anything else."

"Shut up," you're quick to reply between moans, but it only urges him on. You won't be so mouthy when you're taking care of his kids, when you're cleaning up after them, when you're breastfeeding them.

He lets out a low groan as he pictures how big your tits will get when they’re full of milk for his kid. It's enough to push him over the edge and before he knows what he's doing, his burying himself as deep as he can inside of you and coming with an almost animalistic growl.

His hips give a few jerks as he fills you with his cum, his hold now so tight on your thighs that finger-shaped bruises are a guarantee. His shoulders rise and fall rapidly as tries to catch his breath.

When he lets his cock slip from you, he can't tear his eyes away from the way his cum slowly leaks out of your messy cunt and trails down the crack of your ass. He continues to hold you in place for a few moments longer before collapsing onto his back beside you in bed with a self-satisfied smirk on his lips.

He runs a hand through his sweaty hair, already reflecting back on how that may have been the hardest he's ever come before. He pointedly ignores the fact that imagining you pregnant with his kid was the cause.

But while he's busy luxuriating in the aftermath of his orgasm, he's completely ignorant to the storm brewing beside him.

"You fucking came inside me!" you shout, sitting up in bed and hitting him hard in the face with the pillow that you had been using.

He recovers quickly and grabs it from you so that he can place it behind his own head with a smirk.

"Yeah? And?" he asks, his tone bored. He watches you from the corner of his eye as you angrily get out of bed and pick a discarded shirt up from the floor that you slip over your head.

"You're so fucking lucky I'm on the pill," you hiss as you storm off to the bathroom, loudly slamming the door shut behind you.

"Good! That means I don't gotta keep pulling outta ya anymore!" he yells after you with a sadistic grin. He wonders what you're more upset over -- that he came inside of you or that you didn't get to come.

You're only gone for a few minutes. He hears the toilet flushing and the water running before the door opens and you come back into the bedroom.

"You're fucking useless," you mutter and he closes his eyes as he stretches with a loud yawn. "I should've just gone with my vibrator. It doesn't have a mouth and doesn't make a mess. And it also makes me come every time."

"That ain't my job," he scoffs, a truly amused smirk playing at his lips at the idea that he's here for your pleasure.

He cracks an eye open when he hears you sliding opening the door to the balcony just off your bedroom. He catches just a glimpse of you holding something in your arms before you disappear onto the balcony for a few moments. When you return, your arms are empty.

He watches you as you pick up his boxer briefs before slinging them at his face. His reflexes are quick enough that catching them before they hit him is an easy feat.

"Get the fuck out," you say without sparing him a second glance on your way out of the bedroom and he chuckles to himself. Frustrating you is almost as gratifying as sex. 

His amusement persists even as he sits up and slides on his boxer briefs. But it doesn’t last much longer because he’s quick to see that your bedroom floor is now empty, his clothes nowhere in sight.

He glances at the sliding glass door that’s still open and his eyes widen when he suddenly remembers that you had carried something onto the balcony, only to come back without it. 

No. 

You couldn’t possibly have.

No.

In the blink of an eye and with the speed he’s known for, he’s on your balcony and tightly gripping onto the railing as he searches the mostly-empty street below. When he sees his shirt, kimono, and hakama scattered on the sidewalk, pure rage explodes in his gut.

“Fucking BITCH!” he yells with no care for your neighbors or the late hour. 

He’s moving so quickly that in the back of his mind he wonders if it’s the fastest he’s ever been. One moment he’s on your balcony and a millisecond later, he has you pinned on your back on the couch where you were sitting. 

He straddles your hips as he wraps a hand around your throat, his grip growing tighter when he sees how your eyes are dancing with mirth.

“You already up for another round?” you ask, a slight wheeze to your voice from how hard he’s squeezing your throat. His fury is so all-consuming that he doesn’t even notice the way his cock twitches.

“You fucking bitch,” he seethes. “I’m going to fucking kill you.”

You raise an eyebrow at how his anger actually has his Kansai accent easing, like his ire is great enough that it’s actually able to override any pronunciations and verbal ticks.  

“Well, before you do that, you might wanna go get your clothes,” you point out, sounding almost bored. “The bars are getting ready to close and all it takes is one person who can’t hold their alcohol before they’re throwing it all up.”

He wants to argue with you, call you a bitch some more, and punish you for thinking you have the right to talk to him like this and treat him this way. But he  also knows you’re right. He needs to recover his clothing or else all he’ll have to wear on his way home is a tight pair of boxer briefs. 

“It shouldn’t be too hard to get them back for the world's fastest sorcerer," you mock with a rasp and he lets his hand close even tighter for a few moments, wanting you to think your life is truly in danger, before he releases you. 

He’s gone before you even know what’s happening and he’s already halfway through getting dressed by the time you make it out onto the balcony to watch him struggle. He ignores the heat of your gaze on him, as well as the stares of the few passersby who stumble upon the bizarre scene playing out in the middle of the street.

“Oi! Zen’in-sama!” you shout down to him as ties his hakama. He refuses to acknowledge that he’s heard you, although how could not have with how loud your voice carries. It’s enough to catch the attention of everyone down below. The mocking tone is gone with your next words, your voice as cold as ice. “I know my cunt’s so sweet that it’s hard to resist, but the next time you come inside of me without permission, I’ll cut your balls off so that you can’t make that mistake again.”

He looks up at your balcony, but you’re already gone. He growls to himself, seething that despite everything, you’ve still somehow managed to not only end up with the last word, but also to have humiliated him.

Now that he’s no longer buried ball deep inside of you, he can think with a clearer head and even through his anger, there’s an irritating note of relief that you’re on the pill.

It’s already bad enough that he can’t seem to give up your pussy, but that’s at least a habit he hopes to one day break. A kid would keep you in his life permanently. 

A chill runs down his spine at the idea, disgust curling in his stomach. He tries to ignore the hint of arousal that lurks just underneath it. 

[cyncerity]

Can we get something about the Sizeshifter!Tommy AU?

maybe when he shifts into a slightly larger size in Wilburs stomach?

(Tagging @awesome-slime-lover in this too)

Absolutely! It’s a bit shorter than I usually do, but I hope you like it anyways! I might do Phil’s first reaction to this, too, if anyone’s interested

tw: vore, very brief vomit mention

In all fairness, Wil hadn’t tried to eat Tommy. This time. He totally brought this on himself.

The tiny idiot thought it would be a good idea to climb on Wilbur’s face while he was sleeping. He had no idea why, but then again, he couldn’t rationalize a lot of what Tommy did. So when he inevitably fell in his mouth and Wilbur swallowed him on reflex, he simply ignored the boy’s complaints and went back to bed.

That seemed to be a mistake. He woke up feeling bloated, sore, and all around bad. He felt absolutely sick to his stomach, and eventually registered that Tommy was in there, realizing it wouldn’t be pretty if he got sick while his little brother was in him. He was worried for all of two seconds before he actually focused on his stomach. He looked down at his middle and saw that it was…bigger than usual. Not by a lot, but it definitely was, and he hadn’t eaten much the night before. Besides Tommy. Wilbur slowed his breathing and focused on his belly, and managed to concentrate on a subtle feeling of something pressing on his stomach walls very slightly in a rhythmic pattern. Tommy’s breathing.

Wilbur stood up, quickly shaking away the tired nauseous feeling (mostly) and poking his stomach. Nothing happened. “Tommy wake up what the hell did you do?” He poked again and immediately regretted it when the action made Tommy roll over in his sleep, making Wilbur grab his stomach and curl in on himself to try and stop the strange feeling. What the fuck was he doing? Tommy had never done this before, and he had slept in Wil numerous times before, even if had been a little while since the last time. What changed?

***

Tubbo woke up to a ringing next to his ear. He groggily picked up the phone to hang up, but registered the name before he could hit the decline option and begrudgingly answered. “What do you want Wilbur?” “I think somethings wrong with Tommy.” came the distressed reply from the other end.

Tubbo shot up, his sleepiness forgotten at the mention that something could be wrong with his best friend. “Why? What happened?” “I- I don’t know! He fell in my mouth last night because he’s a dipshit so I swallowed him and now he’s…I don’t know, bigger than he’s supposed to be?” Tubbo took a second to process that response as all of the anxious tension drained out of him. “Ok? And?” “What do you mean ‘and?’ What the fucks gotten into him? You eat him the most often!”

“He just does that sometimes, it’s nothing to be worried about.” “Why?” “I don’t know, ask Tommy. I’m going back to sleep.” Tubbo was about to hang up and lie back down when Wilbur called out. “Wait, one more thing! He’s asleep. How the fuck do I get him out if he’s too big to come up my throat? I feel like shit and if he rolls over again I’m actually gonna vomit.”

“That sounds like a you problem, big man.”

***

Wilbur heard Tubbo hang up and sighed, laying back down himself. It’s not like there was much else he could do at the moment. So he just continued to prod at his stomach until Tommy woke up, feeling and sometimes even slightly seeing the boy shift a little with every poke. It was weird to say the least.

30 minutes later, Tommy woke up to Wilbur poking at him, which he responded to by kicking his finger, making his brother flinch. “You finally up, gremlin?” Wilbur said, sounding exhausted. “Yeah, thanks to you.” He replied sarcastically. “Great, fantastic, shrink so I can get you the fuck out.” Wilbur bit back. He heard Tommy laugh a bit before he felt movement and curled in on himself again, taking a minute to register that the movement was Tommy getting comfortable. Then silence. Then a rhythmic breathing pattern similar to when he had been asleep earlier…

Wilbur shot out of bed, pressing both hands to his stomach and pressing roughly in different areas in an attempt to jostle Tommy. “Oh no, you are not going back to sleep you little shit-“

[heresathreebee]

KINKTOBER DAY 6 Foodplay/Rimming

Colonel Rick X Reader

AN: will edit tomorrow, too tired

It's your daughter's first day of first grade and to celebrate, Rick is in the kitchen making waffles and pancakes. And to his great annoyance, you had found a can of whipped cream in the fridge door. 

"Stop doing that," he scolded you over his shoulder and flips the last pancake, "that shit is nothing but pure sugar and she's gonna be too full to eat real food." 

Your laugh sounds muffled and whoops the image of you swiping white cream from your lips… but god willing, it will not tempt him right now. Today's about getting your daughter to school after that disaster of a kindergarten year. 

"Here." 

Rick swipes the can of cream from your hands and places two plates stacked high with fluffy, chocolate or blueberry baked breakfast delights. Your daughter squealed her delight and grabbed one of everything then she sat back and stared at it. 

Rick glanced at you in confusion but you were distracted (he was leaning on the counter and his biceps were bulging) so he asked, "'s a matter, darlin'?" 

Big and pretty eyes focused on him from behind the mountain she piled on her plate. "I'm not hungry anymore." 

Rick saw you stiffen as if you were struck with rigamortis and he tried his best not to glare at you in front of her. 

"You're fine baby, here–" 

You danced around Rick and filled a glass of water to bring back to her. She drank it at your behest as you fixed a plate for yourself. And like clockwork, the water washed the immediate taste of sugar from her mouth and she dug into the cholocate chip waffle at the top of her pile. 

Two parents sighed in unison and walked their daughter down to the bus stop. She held onto both of your hands, swinging back and forth to distract herself. She almost didn't go– Rick had to promise to come pick her up if she didn't want to stay but she had to stay until lunch. 

When she finally boarded the bus (with a face like you were sending her to boarding school), the two of you returned to the mess in the kitchen. You groaned, kicking your slippers to the side and huffing all the way home. 

"Oh stop it, it was your idea," Rick laughed. "Do you think she'll be ok?" 

You nod. "If she didn't want to go, we'd have had to drag her kicking and screaming. She'll be alright babe." 

Rick starts to load the soaked dishes from the sink to the dishwasher and you pause looking over the leftovers. "Did you have any of these?" 

"Hm? No, I didn't," your husband replied. He felt a tap on his shoulder and found you offering him a bit of blueberry pancake on a fork. "My hands are wet." 

"I'll do it for you, dummy." 

Rick opened his mouth to receive. The fool. Instead of a mouthful of pancake he got whip creamed instead. His sigh sounded, in your ears, like a deeply irritated 'goddamn.' You laughed yourself hoarse and offered the fork again. 

Rick watched you this time but true to your original word, you let him take a bite of what he wanted. Aaaand almost as a reflex, you licked the stray, sticky syrup from his chin. He definitely shivered– you felt it, but he doesn't scold you or bend you over the table like you hoped. 

You let him have his moment of restraint. The two of you fucked like rabbits, he knew what was on your mind. The dishwasher was loaded and plates emptied, all that was left was to soak the remaining dishes and wipe down the counters and table. 

But you watched him set up– hand towel over the shoulder ready to handwash what was left like he was unaffected by you. 

On Rick's part, he wasn't trying to frustrate you, he just didn't like to half ass a job (can't relate honestly). He heard you stomping in the direction of your bedroom. He was intent to ignore it to finish his task, but then he heard you stomp back into the kitchen and stop. 

The sudden silence bothered him. That and the feeling of your eyes burning holes into the back of his head. He half glanced– looked at the fridge to find you in his peripherals– but you weren't moving. 

Finally he half turned and found you doing exactly what it sounded like you were doing– standing, leaning, waiting (rather impatiently actually). 

And you had the whip cream still. You tapped your finger and the intensity of your glare gives him no choice but to stop. 

"What?" 

You don't answer but you do crook your finger at him. Rick dries his hands and obeys. Every step he takes towards you has your tightass stance unwinding and by the time he reaches you, you've relaxed into a lazy lean and mischievous grin. 

He asks again, "what?" 

You grab him by his belt buckle and drag him closer to you. "Take your pants off and bend over for me." 

You feel Rick stiffen. "...why?" 

"Because I wanna do something to you," you answer cryptically. 

"Am I going to enjoy what you're about to do to me?" 

You scoff. "I think you will, yes. If it's not, you're welcome to tap out." 

Rick's fingers twitched. "Let me put this away first." 

He reaches for the can of cream but you stop him. "This is a part of it." 

He says your name in warning. You can see he's uncomfortable about it and maybe he's right to be– you have been unpredictable and childish today– but you push forward. Give him your best, most sincere puppy dog eyes. 

"Please? I'll take it slow, if you don't want it, tell me and I'll stop," you say. "It's sort of a… continuation of Sunday's exploration…" 

You stuck your finger in his ass while he was pounding into you (he liked it a lot actually, he just doesn't do it often). You can see his thousand yard stare as he recalls Sunday’s events that left him shaking with pleasure for an hour after. 

"...ok." 

Rick reaches for his belt and undones it slowly. You know in your head it's because he's still on the fence about it but your adrenaline rises and you take pleasure in watching him strip. Once his pants are at his ankles, you feel like you need to help ease him into the mood. 

You start by cupping his cheeks and kissing him. Long, deep kisses that convey your commitment to pacing yourself. He kisses you back in kind and struggles to remove his underwear past his knees because he doesn't want to pause kissing you even for a second. He gives up after a second and puts both hands on your waist to pull you closer, deeper into the kisses. 

"I love you," you whisper in between dipping your tongue into his mouth. "I'm going to take care of you." 

Rick moans in answer and you feel 'something' poking your stomach. You break away from his lips and pepper kisses down the column of his throat, over his shirt clad heart and chest and you sink to your knees pulling his underwear with it. 

You look up at him knowing it's his second favorite position to have you in. His bright eyes are dark and he swallows roughly but instead of giving his awaiting cock a kiss, you stand. 

"Now bend over." Rick hesitates but obeys. "Good boy." 

He glares at you over his shoulder but he does as you ask, setting his hands palms down on the counter and spreading his legs as much as his pants will allow. He jerks when he feels your hand massage the inside of his thigh, but when you don't move on right away, he is able to relax into it. 

I trust you, he thinks. He feels your hair tickle the base of his spine and you plant a kiss on his back, then you straighten up and massaging more of his hips, his butt, his thighs without touching his most sensitive parts. 

When he feels you massage his cheeks a little harder, pulling them apart, letting go, and doing it on repeat, his cock hardens. You haven't touched it once and his intuition tells him you don't want him to either. His breathing picks up and it feels like you're torturing him now. 

Did you change your mind? Are you having second thoughts? 

As if on cue, you ask him: "have you ever… tried rimming before?" 

Oh… that was the last thing Rick was expecting you to say. 

You got nervous when you saw his head jerk up from the counter. You were preparing to step back and give him space, but he reached a hand back and caught a belt loop in your pants which he used to drag you closer to him (hips pressed to hips). He seemed to be considering his answer. 

"...yeah… I have." He looks back at you. "Is that what you want to do?" 

You nod cautiously. If he's not into it, you're not going to make him feel like he has to for your sake. Your sex life is fine without anal play– if he's not into it, you'll survive. 

Oh but to your great fortune, Rick is very much into it. He puts his head back down on the table and, as a show of good faith, he tries to spread his legs just a centimeter further. 

"Go for it." 

He's a shivering mess. Your fingers felt good inside him but your tongue? Expert. He was going to lose his hearing from how loud he was moaning and whimpering. If he knew you were touching yourself right now, he’d have come without even trying. 

“Please, please, please–” Rick choked when you finally touched him where he needed you most. You wrapped your hand around his cock and tugged. Stroking him roughly and pulling towards you which jostled his balls as well. At this point he was barely breathing. 

He started to say your name but– “Uhhnnn–”

Rick comes in your hand and all over your shirt. You refrain from slipping a second finger into him only because you might kill him if you did. He comes so hard he’s dizzy and he barely has enough sense to reach across the counter and hold himself onto it. 

He had been leaning back into your touch, hips inching further and further away and to keep him from falling on you, you stand and push him back up, draping yourself over his back to hug him. 

It’s ten minutes before Rick comes down from his high. His breathing is deep and evened, legs freezing cold but back warm, at least everywhere you were. 

"Rick…Rick…" 

He shakes you with a laugh. "Yeah baby? You sure know how to work my shit, don't you?" 

He cleared his throat and said adoringly, "you are going to be the death of me." 

[kiribaku-queen]

Heyyyy. So i was thinking a out mafia au fic like where kuroo is a mafia leader and youre his gf. Somehow, while his group were in a war, u got kidnapped which made him furious ofc and whiel saving u and trying to escape, u saw someone trying to shoot hima nd u go ahead and sheild him which made u got shoot. Its a angst but a hppy ending. Ill let u do what kind of ending u want 😁 anyway congrats and hv a great day!

Beginnings of a War

Angst

Kuroo x reader

Word Count: 3.5K

TRIGGER WARNING: violence, gun mentioned, blood

A/N: I had so much fun writing this piece and I literally couldn't wait to start this one! I thought of this Bokuto when writing this piece because I can't get enough of him

Happy reading and I'd love to know your thoughts!

The tension in the room was uneasy as the two leaders from opposite gangs stared each other down, neither saying a word. There was no easy conclusion to their mess but the longer they sat there, the more impatient both parties got. Yet, Kuroo was never one to give up easily. He was persistent and determined. Meanwhile, the two-toned haired man who goes by Bokuto was notorious for always getting his way. Right now, they were both stuck in the middle. Kuroo leans back on the black, leather couch, resting both arms behind the back.

“That’s my final bet. Take it or leave it. You either release him and take the money, or we’re gonna have some trouble,” Kuroo finally spoke up. Bokuto slants his eyes at him, clearly not persuaded by his offer.

“You’re a good comedian if you think I’m going to release one of your men for that small amount. After what he did to ten of my men?” Bokuto was trying to place the blame on the other leader but that only made Kuroo’s eyebrow twitch in annoyance.

“Your men attacked his family and his girl, leaving her in a hospital. If anything, your men deserved everything coming to them,” Kuroo set him straight. Even though Bokuto knew that, he knew that his men were in the wrong, he still had to protect them. So his comment visibly upset him as he slammed his fists down on the glass table in front of him, almost causing it to break if he hit any harder.

“I don’t give a shit what my boys did. All I care about is what your men did to mine,” he stated clearly. By now, Kuroo was getting a headache.

“Then what do you want? You don’t want the money, you don’t want anything else I offered. Stop beating around the bush and tell me what you want!” he grew impatient and raised his voice. Before Bokuto had a chance to open his mouth, the double doors behind him flew wide open and in you came, eyes only on your boyfriend as you walk towards him. Sexy and sultry-like, you come to greet your boyfriend after a long day of shopping, not paying attention to his special guest. But he was paying close attention to you.

The click of your heels meeting the floor caught the attention of all the men in the room. You loved it when all the attention was on you because you knew. You knew you were attractive. You had the confidence, the walk, the clothes, the attitude. Everything a girl boss should have. Even though eyes were on you at all times of the day, only one man caught your attention and you would do anything for him.

Striding towards the mafia boss who was clearly in the middle of an important meeting, you made your way into his lap. You made yourself comfortable, touching the back of his hair before pulling him in for a steamy kiss. The kiss was slow and deliberate. You made sure to taste every part of him, your tongue gliding against his, purposely biting his lips ever so slightly. You kissed him like there was no one else in the room. But little did you know, Bokuto was looking you up and down, clear interest written all over his face.

You pulled away with a soft hum, satisfied to be with your boyfriend again. Kuroo, who was annoyed, is now smitten with you. He has, and always will have, a soft spot for you and isn’t afraid to show it.

“I’m a little busy, sweetheart,” Kuroo mumbled against your lips, lost in your eyes, your taste, your smell, your everything.

“I just missed you, daddy,” you cooed with a pout.

“Alright, I’m almost done,” he promises. He puts a protective hand over your waist and you wait in his lap like the good girl you were until he was done with his meeting. Kuroo focuses his attention back to his guest, acting like that whole interaction didn’t happen.

“What do you want?” Kuroo asks again. This time, Bokuto locks eyes with you and you just give him an innocent look that makes Bokuto obsessed.

“Her.” He points to you. That shocks both you and your boyfriend. You didn’t know what was going on, maybe because you just forced your way into their conversation, but you could tell that Kuroo wasn’t very fond of his answer. His hand tightens on your waist.

“She’s off limits,” he almost growls. Now that’s a voice you haven’t heard in a hot minute.

“Then the deals off,” Bokuto says simply, leaning back while shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. Kuroo slants his eyes and gives you a few soft taps to your butt.

“Go upstairs,” he demands. You know by the tone of his voice that he was upset and you knew not to talk back. Last time you did that, you couldn’t walk for two weeks. And that was… so long ago that you can’t even remember. So you immediately got up and walked out of there, but Bokuto still had his eyes on you.

When you left the room and completely out of sight, Kuroo sits back and crosses his legs. He lets out a deep sigh and glides his tongue across the inside of his cheek in annoyance. He didn’t understand why Bokuto wanted you all of a sudden, out of all people, but there was no way in hell he was giving you away.

“I’ll give you anything you want. Tell me and I’ll give it to you. You want the money? Fine. Take it. You want a woman? I��ll find you one who can’t resist you. Name your price, but she’s my woman,” Kuroo made things clear with the man across from him.

“I’m not leaving until I get her,” Bokuto was set on having you, taking you and making you his. Kuroo uncrosses his legs and leans forward on his knees.

“Oi. Can you fucking hear? I said she was off limits.” Bokuto copies his movements.

“Does it look like I give two fucks? If you want one of your men back, give me the girl,” he compromises. Kuroo clenches his jaw and leans back.

“Then there’s nothing to discuss. Leave.” Kuroo glares at him. And that was asking him nicely. But Bokuto lets out a loud chuckle.

“You’re gonna let a bitch get in the way of your men?” the mafia boss taunted. And boy, did it work.

“Do you want to die?” Kuroo asked through gritted teeth, a vein clearly visible on his forehead from how much anger he was trying to hold in.

“Is that a threat?” Bokuto turned serious, all jokes out the window.

“No. but this is,” he says, standing up and pulling a gun out of the inside of his jacket pocket and points in straight in his opponent’s face. With his fast reflexes, Bokuto saw it coming and also took his gun out. So now both men had guns pointed in their faces, neither of them moving. Just glares being exchanged.

“Tsk, tsk. Now is that how you persuade an old friend?” Bokuto shook his head in disappointment.

“Friend? More like business partner,” Kuroo corrected him. They had a silent face off. Pointing dangerous weapons at each other but neither wanting to pull the trigger first. Bokuto thought this was exciting. He laughs, spins his gun with his finger and places it back in his pocket. He turns around, looking unfazed by the whole situation and simply leaves. Somewhat relieved, Kuroo also puts away his gun and cautiously watches the other boss leave. Bokuto stops right as he’s about to step through the door to give Kuroo a wary warning.

“You better be careful. I always get what I want,” he said before making his disappearance.

You were waiting patiently in your shared bedroom, swinging your feet around with a pout on your face. You didn’t know what you walked in to, but it didn’t seem good from the looks of it. Kuroo looked so serious down there, you thought to yourself. But your mind wandered to naughty thoughts because you loved seeing him like that, even though the situation doesn’t call for it. He just looks so sexy what he’s serious.

Kuroo opens the door to the bedroom and before you could say anything to him or greet him, he smashes your lips together without any explanation. You were surprised by his actions but you kiss him back nonetheless. From the way his lips move against yours, you could tell that he was in a bad mood. Your lips were too smushed and teeth were rubbing against each other, so much that he was starting to hurt you. Kuroo moves on to attack your neck and then you were finally able to breath.

“Kuroo,” you whined, still short of breath. He ignores you and instead starts to suck on your supple skin, creating bruises of all kinds of sizes on your neck. He grabs your face again, smashing your lips together and he pushes you back so that the back of your knees hit the bed, causing you to fall backwards, Kuroo falling on top of you. His legs were on either side of you as he dominated the kiss.

“You’re mine. All mine,” he growls, hands wandering to grope your body harshly. He licks from the top of your breasts all the way up your neck and captures your lips again. Your hands go to tangle his raven locks and wrap your legs around him.

“I’m all yours,” you whisper against his lips. Kuroo smirks, quickly removing his jacket then undoing his tie before he goes to unbuckle his belt. Excitement started to rise in you. Angry sex? Fuck yes. You were in for a hell of a night and let’s be honest, one hell of a week.

You were kept inside for a time being because Kuroo was wary of what Bokuto said to him at that meeting. He wasn’t going to take any chances, but you understood where he was coming from. It was boring not being able to leave the fancy mansion you lived in, but you made your boyfriend make it up by letting him by you all sorts of gifts to apologize.

But after a while of nothing happening, your boyfriend lets you go on a shopping spree to make up for your boredom and loss of time. But you couldn’t leave until you brought extra bodyguards to look out for you. Annoying as it was, you obliged. There was no use in arguing because if you did, he probably wouldn’t have let you out. The whole threatening fiasco didn’t bother you one bit. You couldn’t count how many times people have said that to him and nothing has ever happened to you. You believed that nothing was going to happen this time around.

You were walking down the empty street after a successful day of shopping, having every single one of your bodyguards hold bags of clothes, accessories, shoes, food, things that you couldn’t resist buying. You skipped along the sidewalk, feeling happy and free, the warmth of the setting sun and the blow of the oncoming evening wind was making you feel content with life. You wonder if your bodyguards were feeling the same. Speaking of bodyguards, they were being awfully quiet. Spinning around, you realized that you were alone.

You paused, stunned frozen.

Where were your bodyguards? All of a sudden, several men appeared out of the shadows of the alleys. You sighed in relief, realizing that it was just your bodyguards pulling a prank on you.

“You scared me! How could you leave me alone like that!” you jokingly scolded them. But they were indeed not your bodyguards. The smile that was on your face was quick to drop upon realization. You took a few steps back, trying to get away from these men who were getting closer and closer to you. But you were stopped, running into someone’s chest. You looked up to see who it was and all of a sudden, everything turned black.

When you woke up, you found yourself sitting on a chair, arms wrapped together and duct tape covered your mouth. It didn’t take long to realize that you’ve been kidnapped. The classic empty warehouse and burning fire in a can was proof of that. You checked your surroundings and was surprised to see that your legs weren’t tied together. You weren’t blindfolded either, but you were tied down to the chair. It wasn’t long after you woke up that Bokuto makes his appearance, sitting backwards in a chair right in front of you. He looked happy to see you but you couldn’t say the same. You slanted your eyes at him, disinterested in whatever he wants to say or do. You tried to keep your composure by being still and keeping a poker face, because if you didn’t, you don’t know what he’ll do to you.

“Good morning, beautiful,” Bokuto greeted you. “You’re probably wondering why you’re not tied up.” He starts, then rips the duct tape off your mouth and cuts the ropes around your arms. Then he leans down to your level and smirks.

“Because I know you’re not going to run away. Look at you shaking,” he says and looks you up and down then going back to his chair. It was true. You were shaking. You’ve never been in this situation before. You’ve always imagined it: being nonchalant and bored of all the empty threats and your savior of a boyfriend would come save you from all the madness. But now you were second guessing yourself, now being caught in this situation. You were shaking, but you were still going to stand up for yourself. That’s what Kuroo taught you to do.

“You’re not going to get away with this. Kuroo is going to save me and you’ll regret ever doing this to me,” you ran your mouth. But Bokuto doesn’t respond. So you go on. “Kuroo is the strongest fighter I know. He could kick your ass in his sleep. You don’t even look like a fighter. I bet you’d do down so easy!” You said that anything that came to mind. Yet, Bokuto continued to stare at you with a bored expression. And that made you nervous.

“I would never date you. You’re ugly, mean, and-and… you suck!” you couldn’t come up with any good comebacks. But for some reason, that set him off. He stands up so fast that it knocks the chair over and that shuts you up real quick. He walks over to you, duct taping your mouth again.

“Noisy bitch. Maybe this’ll shut you up,” he says and tightly seals your lips shut with the silver tape. He then grabs your chin to look up at him. You glare up at him, already tired of how rough he was handling you. He tilts your face from side to side, getting a good look at you.

“See, you’re prettier when your silent,” he comments. He looks down at the tape and frowns. He tapped the tape that was over your mouth over and over again, like there was something missing. Bokuto opens the palm of his hand and one of his guys puts a bright red lipstick in his hand. With a swift action, he pulls the cap off with his teeth and applies the lipstick on the duct tape that outlines your lips. He spits the lid on the floor and smirks.

“There, that’s better,” he says. He grabs your chin again and pulls you in for a kiss. You struggle to get out of his grip but he was stronger than he looked. When Bokuto pulled away, the lipstick was smeared across his lips, but didn’t seem to care. He was about to say something until he heard screaming and grunts of pain. He turns around just in time to see your boyfriend getting thrown on the floor, all bloodied and beaten up. You gasp, tears beginning to form at the sight.

This was wrong. That couldn’t be your boyfriend. There was no way. Your boyfriend was strong. He beat up and sometimes even killed when anybody got in his way. How could this have happened?

Kuroo was thrown on the floor and a handful of men continued to beat him up, kicking him in all places. You shook your head in denial, not even wanting to watch but couldn’t look away. Bokuto was loving everything. Your expression. Kuroo’s sounds of pain. He was getting a kick that things were turning out how he had planned.

“Look who decided to show up,” Bokuto kneels down to his level, grabbing a handful of hair and picking him up to show his face. Blood was dripped down the sides of his face, from his nose and mouth, his cheeks were bruised and he looked like he was about to pass out.

“Let her go,” Kuroo barely manages to let out. Bokuto clicks his tongue and shakes his head.

“I told you, didn’t I? I want her. Anything you want to say to your little girlfriend for the last time?” Bokuto allows him to say some final words. But Kuroo was too out of it to comprehend what he was saying.

“What about girlfriend over here!” he exclaims, presenting you perfectly fine and free from any scratches. Bokuto rips the duct tape off and cries ripped from your throat.

“Kuroo Tetsurou! You better get up! Stand up please! Fight back!” you cry but that just causes Kuroo to get more kick and punches to his body. Large tears escaped your eyes and you couldn’t stop the sounds of agony coming from your mouth.

“You’re the best fighter around, right? Fight back please!” you begged him. Getting beat up, okay. But not even trying to fight back? That’s not the Kuroo you know. What was wrong with him? Why was he allowing them to do this to him? Kuroo looks up and faces you with a smile.

“I can’t let you get hurt, baby girl,” he professes. And that just breaks your heart. More sobs escaped your mouth but the sounds of skin hitting skin was louder. Kuroo was being tossed around, kicked, punched, spit at. Blood was stained everywhere, and you didn’t know what to do. Even though he was getting beat up so badly, he was still standing. And that seemed to annoy Bokuto. Time was ticking and he was getting impatient. If he was doing to die like that, then he was going to have to do it himself. Bokuto pulls the gun out of his pocket, aiming for Kuroo. You see it just in time and as if your feet were moving on it’s own, you run to shield him before he gets shot. The moment you touched him, you heard the gun shot and everything went black

The feeling of soft sheets under your fingers woke you up. You jolted awake, sitting up in the bed that was all too familiar to you. You were at home, but how did you get here? You checked your body all over but there were no signs of pain or even wound marks. There was no bullet, no bruises, no scarring. So, what the hell happened? Then your mind went to your boyfriend. Getting right out of bed, you ran to his room and he was resting in bed, bandages covering his shoulder.

“Kuroo,” you called out to him, running to his side and grabbing his hand. He shifts in his position, sighing deeply. Then he brings your hand to his lips, placing a small but meaningful kiss on your knuckles.

“You’re up, my dear,” he says as a fact, eyes barely open. Concern washed over you and so many questions came to mind. You didn’t know what to ask first.

“How-what-but I… I took the gun shot for you,” you tried to recall what happened. Kuroo knocks your forehead and you pout.

“You think you’re so slick. I saw what you were trying to do. I flipped you over just in time. Now I have this to remember,” and then points to his shoulder with the bandage. He took the bullet for you. You pout again, feeling bad. Not only did he get beaten up pretty badly, but he also got shot that night? That was supposed to be your job.

“If I didn’t get shot, then why did I pass out?” you questioned, more to yourself.

“I think you passed out from the shock, baby,” he comforted you. It made sense… but when you looked at your boyfriend in this condition, it made you upset. You started to burst into tears and hit him in the chest.

“You idiot!” you yell, accidentally hitting the place he got shot and he jumps up in pain. But you cuddle right up to him to make up for it. But you thought he deserved it.

“What about Bokuto?” you shot up and looked at Kuroo was worry written all over your face. He softly smiles at you and pets your hair.

“We all retreated. For now. But it’s not over,” he tells you. Oh, it is far from over. This is actually just the beginning.

[goliath-de-senfina-sango]

Fathering a Phantom

Tucker looks into the Forgotten Realms, the Lumanos make a startling discovery on Earth, and everyone meets up for once

Danny was impressed with his ability to get a full 8 hours of sleep, but that really was only because he didn’t have school of any kind to go to during the summer. He woke up at 11, Tucker already in his room and doing stars knew what on the tablet that Sam had gotten him as a gift, with the caveat that he not name this one. Needless to say, it was a hard fought battle for Tucker not to address the tablet by the name he had undoubtedly given it regardless, but he was managing so far. What he was doing on it in Danny’s chair, however, was a mystery almost as great as why the Observants went after Danny instead of Vlad.

Danny phased through his top blanket and floated into the air, stretching until the joints in his spine popped loudly, putting a cringe on Tucker’s face. “Dude, that noise is disgusting.”

“You stay in my room long enough for me to wake up, you suffer my wake up actions. Besides, its hardy the grossest sound you’ve ever encountered. Have you heard yourself with soup?” Danny laughed, grabbing up a blue and purple galaxy shirt with stars sprinkled over it and a cat’s face printed right over the heart and some shorts. “Lookin up Doomed cheats?”

“I should do that later,” Tucker said, nodding to himself while Danny floated upside down to look over his shoulder. “I’m actually looking into some D&D sourcebooks to find out what all we might sorta know about Toby. I was right, by the way, Aasimar are from this game.”

“Begs the question: which came first, the game or the world?” Danny grabbed his underclothes and saluted Tucker as he landed. “Be back when I’m clean.”

“I might be too old to hear you for conversation by then.” Tucker laughed and Danny focused on his pillow, spreading his energy around it. With a flick of his wrist, the pillow went flying and Tucker caught it with his face, flopping over with an “Oof! Hey, how’d you do that?”

“A guess, observation, and mad skill.” Danny gave Tucker finger guns and backed out of his room, heading to the bathroom. After a quick shower and brushing his teeth, Danny kicked his door open, making Tucker jump in his seat, whipping out his lipstick laser, and Danny cackled. “Nice reflexes, Tuck. Maybe you should work on your situational awareness.”

“I could say the same for you, Danny.” Jazz neatly dodged the backhand Danny sprang on her without thought, grinning down at him with a smugness that only siblings could achieve. “Here I thought you had supernatural senses.”

“I guess paying attention is important no matter how sensitive you are,” Tucker said with a snort. Danny rolled his eyes and let them glow, the green light enveloping his bedding as he telekinetically made his bed. “So, do you wanna try a game tournament over at Sam’s, get beaten at skateboarding at one of the skate parks, or look into the roots of your super hero style? I know we’re gonna do something cool today, but Sam picked yesterday and it’s your turn now.”

“Well, right now I wanna eat some food that isn’t contaminated by ectoplasm,” Danny said, turning to Jazz who offered a thumbs up.

“I finally convinced Mom to get a fridge for samples only put down in the lab, and finally convinced dad to use the right fridge for the right thing. Our food should be ecto-free.” Jazz stumbled a bit when Danny all but tackled her in a hug but she smiled and returned it all the same. “I know, I’m amazing.”

“What amazes me is the fact that your parents needed to be told to keep their dangerous chemicals in their dangerous laboratory. Aren’t they like, bleeding edge engineers and stuff?”

“Yeah, but everyone’s got their blind spot, Tuck. Our folks lack common sense, to make room for all the inventive genius.” Danny let go of Jazz to escape the ruffling of his hair and grabbed his bag from beside his desk. “I think I’ll go with asking Toby and Cole stuff, Tuck. It’d be a waste to not learn whatever I can from them while they’re here.”

“I suggest we put together a list of things to ask them, then.” Jazz pulled a notebook out from behind her back and Danny shook his head. “Oh, don’t give me that, you have a thermos clipped to your belt loop.”

“Yeah, cause I need that wherever I go, Jazz. But fine, let’s make a list, we can do that while we cook. C’mon Tuck.” Danny pulled Tucker up by his arm, ignoring his friend’s protests about research into the Forgotten Realms.

While they perfectly recognized that they needed to make connections and do some research into who could do what in order to help them manage providing Danny some mentorship, as well as his friends, the Lumanos also knew that they could get more information on the people on their little hit list by asking Danny, Tucker, and Sam. So, they decided that rather than making nuisances of themselves before they made any friends in the Infinite Realms, they should explore what the attached material realm was like. Toby planeshifted back to the park where he’d met the kids and Cole opened a Gate next to him. When Toby touched down upon the grass, though, he realized that he should’ve come in mortal form. His mortal flesh required that he cast Commune with Nature purposely, voluntarily. Ectoplasm, so attuned to channeling the spirit, did not.

Through the grass, Toby could feel not just the plants rooted together in the park but the trees on the other side of the planet, the heartbeats of every beast that crawled and swam and flew across the world. Toby was, in an instant, connected to the Earth’s biosphere, to its consciousness, and he could hear it screaming, could feel the pain that it felt. In a flash he was flesh and blood again, held up only by his husband’s arms, and vision blurred beyond comprehension with tears. He fell apart for a moment in Cole’s arms, trying to shake himself of the overwhelming presence of an entire planet’s ecosystem.

“Hey there little bird, we can go. We don’t have to stay here if you don’t want,” Cole was saying to him, rubbing his back and trying to pull him out of it. It warmed his heart to have Cole comforting him, but Toby cringed at the thought of just leaving this world behind.

“No. Thank you, love, gods I’m so lucky to have you.” Toby gave Cole a kiss and they stood up together, the druid shaking himself off all over and wiping the tears from his cheeks. “We can’t… I can’t leave this place, though. Not how it is now. Cole, the whole planet is crying.”

“I guess we’re saving this world too, huh? You’ve got a thing for being the hero, doncha?” Cole poked Toby’s cheek and he laughed, shaking his head.

“Yeah, I guess we do. Think we can convince Queen Persephone to let us bring the guys here? I know Valdan at least would jump at the chance to help upheave an entire global order.” Toby huffed a laugh and stood up properly, shaking himself off.

“Regardless, I’m certain we can get Valdan over here. If we want the others, we’ll have to have any semblance of manners though, and actually ask the Queen.” Cole shuddered, rubbing his shoulders. “I don’t like visiting her, she makes me feel like it’s a disappointment that I haven’t died and fallen under her domain yet. Not even in a malicious way, like she has a sweet home all prepared for me and it’s a shame I haven’t come to rest.”

Toby patted Cole on the shoulder and leaned up to kiss his forehead. “Don’t you worry about that, love. I’ll talk with her when we get to that. You can focus on other things.”

“Like teaching that kid you found how to change the weather?” Toby chuckled and shrugged.

“That, hunting down child fighting assholes, making cloud art, there’s so many options.”

Danny would deny that his love of space guided him to his decision about where they should meet up for this discussion, regardless of the teasing Jazz, Tucker, and Sam threw his way. Jazz drove them to the abandoned, somewhat demolished by missiles Observatory, since Danny couldn’t carry them without stretching his arms out in a way that had Tucker comparing him to Mister Fantastic. “Dude, I’m way better than Mr. Fantastic. I actually care about people, for one.”

“Ok, so you’re Monkey D Luffy, then?”

“Sam, please, I don’t eat that much.”

“Maybe you should, little brother, you’re rather undernourished. Have you considered actually trying Mom’s food?”

“The ecto-contaminated food?” Danny stared at her, eyes wide with horror. “The shit Dad puts in the prototype microwave ‘improvement’ that reanimates?”

“You are ecto-contaminated, Danny, and I’m wondering if you need to ingest ectoplasm along with regular food.” Danny instinctively looked around them, worried about being overheard even inside of the car while they drove out to effectively the middle of nowhere by now. “With all the activity in your day to day life, you shouldn’t be so skinny.”

“Even my own sister is calling me scrawny now, I simply cannot escape Tetslaff’s judgement.” Danny let invisibility slowly roll over him from head to toe and Sam and Tucker laughed their heads off while Jazz smiled and shook her head. “Jazz, almost all of the exercise I get is in ghost form, and I don’t think I have cells in that form, let alone muscles that can be built up and shit.”

“Can’t you just make your skin invisible and then we could test that hypothesis?”

Tucker gagged at the suggestion and pointed his PDA’s stylus at Sam. “That’s absolutely disgusting, why would you even say that? Did you get high before this happened or are we simply being cursed with vile visions by a temperamental witch?”

“I’m not a witch, Tucker,” Sam said, rolling her eyes. “If Danny’s right then we won’t see anything gross, and if he’s wrong then you can look away and I’ll confirm or deny. How’s that you big baby?”

“Nosocomephobia doesn’t make Tucker anymore of a baby than your love of anime makes you some basement dwelling weeaboo, Sam.” Sam narrowed her eyes and Jazz’s smile grew just a bit. “I have friends, you have friends, people talk. Really, it’s nothing to be ashamed of, anime is growing more popular in mainstream western media these days.”

“Please don’t remind me, it’s less cool if it’s mainstream.”

“Why Sam,” Danny gasped, a hand on his chest. “Doesn’t that mean you’re letting the crowd tell you what is or isn’t cool, based on what they do or don’t like? That doesn’t sounds very independent of other people’s opinions to me.”

“That’s true,” Tucker said, arm up and ready to block the swat from Sam. “You did only seem to hate Ember’s music because she was popular, Sam. Her music is pretty amazing with or without the hypnotism planted in.”

“I’m pretty sure Remember by Ember was made a flop in my mind because I had to listen to you screeching it to the tune of three cats fighting to the death. Oh wait, that was your attempt at singing.”

“Move over, Spectra, we’ve got someone with a sword in her mouth already,” Danny said, whistling at the sick burn.

Tucker clutched his chest and slumped against the car door. “What a blow struck by a dear friend. How ever shall I survive?”

“Maybe you’ll reincarnate again and this time you’ll be responsible with the scepter. It’s a good thing you put it away in the museum.”

“Right, totally, I put it back in the museum.” The car was quiet for a moment while Tucker tapped away at his PDA, suddenly very interested in something on his screen.

“So what happened with this scepter that Tucker put back?”

Sam stared hard at Tucker for a long moment before turning her attention to Jazz. “Ah, well, it turns out that Tucker is the reincarnation of the Pharoah Duul Amon, who was also a sorcerer. The scepter allowed Tucker to do some absolutely bonkers shit, like drag the entire class into a pocket dimension modelled off of ancient Egypt, as well as wipe all of their memories of the event.”

“But not the emotions that came with the memories – Tucker, you did put that thing back in the museum, right?”

“It’s mine, so I don’t see why a museum should have it. Neither does it, apparently, cause it just reappeared in my room one day surrounded by sand that was a pain in the ass to clean up. It can’t exactly do all that stuff that it did before, like animating pictures and stuff. I think making and undoing a pocket dimension drained the charge on it.”

Danny, returning to visibility, sighed and twisted his head around to look at Tucker in the seat behind Jazz without moving his torso an inch. “Leave it to you to drain the battery on a magical scepter within a day of getting it.”

“I’m gonna need you to put your head right the fuck back where it was just now or I’m gonna have to kick it in place.” Danny stuck his tongue out and turned the rest of himself to fit with his head. “Close enough. And excuse you, I’ve been amazing with the batteries on all my girls. I’ve simply never built a whole dimension with my thoughts before.”

“Ok, this all has fascinating implications that I’d love to get into later if you’ll let me,” Jazz said, slowing down the car. “We are, however, here, and I think we should focus up a bit.”

“Of fucking course Tucker has something cool like a magical pre-incarnation who he inherits a magical scepter from, because fuck me and my goth aesthetic, the normal techie gets the magic he probably doesn’t even want.” Sam’s grumbling was, to the average person, practically unintelligible. To Danny, who had preternatural hearing, it was practically in his ear even as he phased out of the car and went ghost above it.

“Maybe these guys can show you how to make your own magic thing, Sam. After all, Duul Amon put together his scepter and even Freakshow probably made his.”

“I’d much rather Freakshow wasn’t the one who made that staff, actually, cause if he did then can’t he do it again?” They all shuddered, and Tucker put away his PDA while Danny phased into the building. “Yeah, sorry for bringing that up.”

“No, that’s actually an important thing to consider, Tucker. We’ll come back to that.” Jazz pulled out her phone, typing away rapidly while the doors to the Observatory slid open. “Ok, now to get down to business with this angel of yours.”

The team walked inside, heading into the room with the actual telescope itself, and Tucker pulled out the feather he’d been gifted, snapping it in two. The air buzzed with energy and mist poured from Danny’s mouth like a fountain was turned on. A flash filled the room with an explosive BOOM and no less than 10 feet away stood Toby, with a blue skinned man floating by his side, an arm twice the size of Dash’s wrapped around the druid’s shoulders with a small tornado for a tail. Echoing across the entire observatory was the man’s deep voice, kaleidoscopic eyes locked on all three of them at once somehow, “Boo.”

[sunjaesol]

you keep my head from going under

chenford | drabble | post-4x01 | title: bruises // lewis capaldi

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Intellectually, Tim Bradford knew this made sense.

Jackson's death hit everyone hard, but Lucy took the punch. She was his best friend, his roommate, his confidante; a fellow rookie. More than once had Tim heard her jokingly refer to Jackson as her 'little brother', though her sweet tone said otherwise. It wasn't a joke. Lucy and Jackson were family and she just lost her brother.

So, yeah. It didn't take a genius to figure out Lucy needed someone to grieve with, that would understand, that would give her space and closeness and everything in between. Intellectually, Tim deduced he was the right fit for that. Nyla and her weren't super close, Angela was busy with the baby, the weird history with Nolan kept him out of the equation, too. (Tim didn't even begin to question or plow through that one — for his sanity, it was best he never found out.)

Emotionally, however, it was a whole other ball game. Because Lucy wasn't just his friend, or previous rookie, or fellow police officer. She was Lucy. Tim preferred to not linger on the multitudes she contained, but in vulnerable times like these, it was hard not to.

The perfume, a blend of cardemom and roses and citrus, tickling his nose when they hugged. The chime of her laugh every time he sold a joke. Drifting gaze on her pouted lips as she calculated a situation or problem, as though he shouldn't be focusing on the same thing. Her soothing voice, her bravery, her enviable resilience, her strength and smarts and style. Her, her, her. An intoxicating dosis of her as she slept over multiple times a week on the couch, mere feet away from his lonely bedroom.

Safe to say it drove him wild.

He had to remind himself he was a goddamn thirty-six year old man that has fought wars and faced Death every day on the job. He literally underwent an illegal mission to Guatemala to save Angela. But he couldn't keep his cool because the woman he liked slept in the other room? The fuck?

Then again... 'like' might be an understatement. Tim would be a fool if he didn't recognise his feelings for Lucy had grown past a simple infatuation, or prolonged adrenaline rush. Tim loved her.

Which was why he always waited in bed until he heard her alarm softly ring in the other room a bit past seven, listening how she stumbled from the couch to the bathroom, allowing him the limited time to tidy his (her?) couch and prepare breakfast. When she found out the first time, she objected, but his cool exterior and snark quickly shot that discussion down.

Which was why he bought her coffee and lunch more often during their breaks. His stomach twisted inside out with stupid pubescent glee each time her face lit up at the sight of a perfect burger with extra pickle, ordered without having to ask.

Which was why he didn't intercept whenever dudes started asking her out again, though the sympathetic looks of Nyla and Nolan nauseated him plenty. He felt a quiet sense of satisfaction with each rejected man.

Now, Tim didn't toss and turn at the seven fifteen alarm. He waited, he listened to her disappear into the bathroom, he got up and got moving, put on the radio (a music station, since she liked that) and cracked open eggs above a simmering pan. It felt natural. Especially when Lucy emerged in her street clothes and slipped around him to the coffee maker, as if this was a regular morning for them.

Maybe it was.

Pouring her cup, Lucy moved past him to the breakfast bar when he stopped her at the last moment, impulsive.

Her brows raised. "What?"

Before all the bullshit, Isabelle and him had been an easy match. They were made of the same cloth: pragmatic, straightforward, efficient. Though Tim did truly love her, he held different emotions for her than now for Lucy. This felt... insurmountable. Indescribable. His mouth opened and closed, yet nothing in the English language could explain what he experienced each second of the day when he was with her and when he wasn't with her. He felt himself going mad. Tim was in love with Lucy.

Figuring their staring match had gone on too long, he dropped her elbow and crossed his arms instead. "I love you."

Lucy blinked. "W-what?"

Tim caught what he said a beat too late. What the fuck. "Yeah."

"Um... okay." She set her cup down and nervously clutched onto her necklace. Tim felt himself being ripped in all directions by monstrous tides, not being in control rather uncharted territory. "Can- can we talk about this after... work? Please?"

Tim grimaced. "And sit it in the shop together all day? That'll be worse than your last day as boot."

"Well," she sputtered, decidedly taking a step back. "I'm sorry, but you kind of sprung this on me, so..."

"I know," he rushed. "I know that. But you can't deny something is..." God, he hated this. He hasn't done this in years. Mustering the courage, he continued with, "there. You're a good cop, Lucy, you know it, too."

She groaned, exasperated. "Please don't make this about our job."

"I'm out of my depth here, Lucy!" he exclaimed. Frustration rose. "Just- let's finish the conversation now. I can't do it later."

"Can't or won't?"

"Lucy."

Her face steeled in a way he hadn't seen before. Her lips set in a thin line, jaw taut, yet her eyes shimmered with unbridled emotion that only she possessed of. He thought back of the infamous wedding, prior to the abduction, of how beautiful she looked, of her red lips stretched in a teasing smile. He remembered just how great that moment felt, that if he could, he'd prolong it.

"Tim..." she whispered. Her saddened tone held no hint of silver lining, his shoulders dropping with defeat. "We've lost... I can't lose more people that I love."

He latched onto her hands in a snap. Suddenly, the words came to him. "You won't though. You won't lose me."

Lucy shook her head, unshed tears welling, though didn't let go. "You can't promise that. Jackson didn't think he'd die so soon either."

"But is that really the thing that should hold us back? Life is unpredictable. Tomorrow, it could all be over for us."

"Tim."

He smiled. "Lucy."

And then she hugged him. Her arms tightly wrapped around him and he reflexively followed, cradling the back of her head and holding her close. Whatever happened after this, he'd take it; for now, his heart beat in sync with hers and a swooning sense of adoration filled his chest.

"I love you," she whispered in his shirt.

Oh, man. Nothing beat her uttering those sweet words to him. His nose pressed in the crown of her head and let the smile stretch to a beam. "You're never gonna lose me, Chen."

Her chin ticked up and that was all he needed.

A kiss before his morning coffee felt like a good place to start.

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

@alphinias @smolfangirl @tim-lucy

[yniswaifu]

1. Aran

The match between black jackals and schweiden adlers was about to start. You see the two teams, a cluster of black and white jerseys on the opposites, and play with the ID card hanging around your neck. The stadium was starting to fill out, but it's okay. You were near the vip section since you weren't there as a spectator, rather working for one of the sponsors. Being in the public relations department sure helped in getting the best spots, as you could see the entire court from where you stood. Also, there were lesser people around, something you were grateful for.

The announcers began their announcement, and Hinata's name came up in the beginning. He was doing his debut with this game, and you smiled to yourself. He deserved to be in such a great team. Your eyes then sweep from player to player in both the teams, before landing on ushijima.

Hot dang.

Not gonna lie, he was attractive. His tall figure flexed when he did warm ups, making the jersey tightened around the biceps. You blinked, eyes zeroing on them. Yep, they fine.

But that wasn't why you were his fan. At least that's what you always tell yourself that you totally liked him for his skills. Unfortunately, the truth couldn't be hidden from the voice beside you as it suddenly stated, "not gonna lie, he got a good physique."

The tone was a playful one, but it still didn't make you any less embarrassed. Specially when it came from an equally attractive man who is also selected to lead the Japan's volleyball team in the olympics.

"m-mr Aran." you stutter in his presence. He had shades on, maybe trying to escape the paparazzi's eyes and his face was neutral.

Why is he talking to you? AND WHY DID HE HAVE TO CATCH YOU OGLING OVER MUSCLES.

Aran smiled at you, feeling a bit flustered himself. He isn't the teasing type, and he would definitely not tease someone he met for the first time.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you." he says, palms up in surrender.

You laugh nervously, turning back to the match. The first whistle blows, and the game begins.

"are you supporting the adlers?" he asks after minutes of silence.

You shake your head, focused on the game. "no. I'm with msby."

Aran's eyebrows furrow in amusement. He wanted to ask you something, and you knew what. It would seem like you're supporting the adlers because of ushijima, but in fact you weren't.

So before he could ask you further, you decided to clear the misconception. "sure, I like ushijima. He's a great player. But I've worked for the other team, and I know how much they rock. Moreover it's Hinata's first game with them. They have to win."

Again, Aran is a little surprised. You seemed into the match, your body moving on reflex with the flow of the game. Your little whispers of encouragement for the black clad team was...cute.

Then he notices the card hanging around your neck. It was only for the official members, like volunteers or sponsors. So he wondered which part did you belong to. Moreover the place where you both stood – wasn't allowed to the public. It was for players and the management team.

"are you a volunteer?" Aran took up the courage to ask you.

You glanced at him, before smiling. "no. I'm part of the PR team for one of the sponsors of the tournament. So I have a pass to be here."

He nods at your words, and a sudden roar around the stadium takes both his and your attention to the super spike ushijima just pulled.

"your crush scored against the team you're rooting for. How do you feel?" he asks you, smirking at the flustered expression on your face.

You laugh a little, shaking your head. "he's not my crush. He's just a player I really admire."

"right...that's why you were giving him googly eyes."

You grow stiff at the words. First of all, you seriously felt anxious standing near Aran. He was not only a great player, but he's also very handsome and he doesn't have any reason to talk to you. Not that you minded, since you are used to interacting with popular players. But none of them have ever used such a...teasing tone with you before.

And here he is, trying to be friendly with a no one like you (at least that's what you think).

"you know." you suddenly say, your nervousness diminishing a little. "I was an intern in the MSBY black jackals PR team."

Why did you say that? You wish you had the answer. Best guess is you don't want another word about ushijima and his muscles out of this man's mouth. And how you were staring at them.

"oh? So that's why you're supporting them." Aran chimes in a thoughtful manner, eyes on the game. Atsumu had just served sakusa, and a sense of pride filled his chest looking at his junior.

"yeah. That's part of it. Another part is because they are amazing at what they do. I've seen it first hand. Not that adlers are bad or anything..." you finish in a mumble. You certainly didn't want to seem biased.

Aran gave out a laugh at your words, highly amused by now. You were awkward and nervous, that much was obvious, but it was funny to see you masking it. He didn't know why he came to stand beside you, he just saw a lone figure who probably didn't look like they cared for what's around them, and decided to stand there when he saw your zoned out expression. It looked funny. Following your line of vision, he sees ushijima warming up. You must have thought no one was around so you didn't bother hiding your expression, and Aran caught you. And he doesn't regret it one bit.

"you were an intern. Which means you didn't have a lot of interaction with the boys huh?" he asks.

"no, not really. I did talk to them a couple of times, when we had to promote the players. The most I've worked with is hinata, as he was new. So I'm familiar with him more than the others."

"cool. You know Atsumu? He was my teammate in school as well." he states, smirking.

You give him a tight smile. "yeah I know. Everyone knows."

Aran's smile drops. Right. Atsumu was popular. Who also had a Wikipedia page for himself. So did Aran. Of course people will know.

Clearing his throat, he doesn't say anything, but stares at you. You had a very simple aura about you. And he kinda dig that. You looked at the players taking a break before the second half of the game, which your team was leading, by the way. The only reason Aran had come was because Atsumu insisted he does. And because Osamu had his stall perched outside the stadium – something he had to check out. Seeing the twins grow up made him feel like a mother watching her children grow up.

Aran suddenly had the urge to ask for your number. But he wasn't sure. You didn't seem the type to share contacts just because the other person is popular or attractive. Moreover he had been getting this feeling that you didn't want to talk to him. And even if not a lot of words were shared between you two – he quite enjoyed this conversation. Too bad you didn't feel the same. According to him.

But oh whatever. You won't know unless you try eh? YOLO.

That's what Aran thought when he decided to ask you. "what's your name? I'm sorry I didn't ask earlier."

You turn to him, eyes widening. Did the Aran ojiro ask your freaking name?

Butterflies, calm down. It's not the time.

"y/n." you say, trying to be as calm as possible.

"y/n." he repeats, your name rolling off like Hershey chocolate syrup from his tongue. Wait what?

"it's a pretty name." he smiles.

It took everything in you to not jump in excitement. Is Aran flirting with you? You don't know whether you should panic or fangirl. It's almost like, fight or flight.

"thanks." you reply, tucking your hair behind the ear. Aran is still smiling, his eyes creasing into crescent moons.

Silence. Awkward silence.

You don't know what else to say. No one prepared you for this type of situation. And the same could be said for the man in front of you. No one told him he is meeting a potential soulmate today.

Breaking the tension first, you check your watch and tell Aran, "uh, I gotta go. The match is coming to an end, and I have to get ready for the press conference."

Aran almost, almost frowns in disappointment. "don't you want to see who wins?" truthfully, he didn't want you to go just yet.

At that you couldn't help but giggle. Are you sure it's the same guy who is the ace for his team and who is going to lead Japan's team?

"mr Aran, I'll know anyway. It's going to be announced throughout the stadium. And in the conference." you say, turning to the score board. "moreover, msby is leading. They are gonna win this." you finish, determination in your voice.

With the conviction you said those words, Aran wished he could get them for himself personally. He wished you could only cheer for him. Because if you did, there's no way he'd even think of losing.

"right. My bad. See you around?" he says, hoping for a positive response.

You thought about it for a moment. Is this right? You are no fool, you completely understand what's going on here. The question is, why.

Aran seemed to notice your hesitation. "it's okay, if you don't want to. No pressure." he says, giving you a smile that didn't really look like a smile.

Way to go y/n, you heartbreaker.

You suddenly had an idea. Quickly taking out your phone, you opened your instagram and shot a text to Aran. "that should do..." you whisper.

Aran looks at you confused. What were you doing?

Smiling, you wave him a goodbye and run off towards the direction of a group of media people.

What just happened?

Aran blinks at your retreating figure when his phone buzzes. It was Osamu. He smiles, and then his eyes go towards the notification. Someone had texted him on instagram. And that someone was you.

"hey. Let's talk!"

He stares at your text for a good minute before bursting out laughing. A couple of people looked at him laughing at something on his phone, but he didn't care. The text gave such a dorky vibe he couldn't help it.

He sent you a laughing emoji, and shoved his phone back into his pocket before walking away, the smile not leaving his face.

Maybe he did meet his soulmate already.

***

It has been exactly four months since you and Aran started talking on Instagram. Yet, Aran hasn't asked for your number. He just didn't get the courage to. He is almost convinced it was love at first sight with you, because since the day he saw you and spoke to you, till now, when he's laughing at the memes you had spammed him with, his head hasn't been felt this light. Even Atsumu had commented during their practice for the olympics, that he was seeing sparkles around him. Of course, that got the setter a smack on the head, but Aran knew it was because of you.

What was he supposed to do. He was falling for you, and he was falling hard.

Looking at the conversation y'all shared one last time, Aran decide enough is enough. He was going to ask for your number.

His fingers hovered over the keyboard, hesitation settling faster than it can be allowed. But will you give him your number? Talking on social media is different, and talking through your personal number is different. It was more...intimate.

Sighing, he throws his phone on the bed, taking his head in his hands. The game was in a few days, and he had to do something about you because you're all he's thinking about.

Suddenly his phone rings and he looks at the caller. Aran has never looked so done than he's doing now.

"what is it?" he answers the call.

"is this how you greet your favourite twin?" Atsumu replies from the other side in mock offended tone.

"I'm not coming to the bar, if that's the reason why you called."

"h-how did you know?" Atsumu asks, almost yelling in the phone.

"because that's like, the only reason you'd call me at this time?"

"..."

"fair enough" the blonde states after a minute of silence.

Just then Aran had a thought. It wouldn't hurt to ask right?

"remember a couple of months back, say, earlier this year, someone had interned for your team." Aran says.

"hmm? A lot of people interned Aran san, who are you talking about?" Atsumu asks, confused.

Aran gave him your name, running down a brief description of how you look, and added the fact that you had spoken to hinata because he was new as well.

"hmm...y/n...I think I remember her." Atsumu says.

Aran's eyes lit up. "so d–"

"are you interested in her?" came the question from the other line.

Shit.

Regret fills Aran not a second after that question. He never considered the fact that he was asking the last person he should ask, specially for a girl's number. This ain't gonna end well.

"...yeah." he answers, a defeated sigh escaping his lips.

Another minute of silence. Cue the dramatic reaction in 3...2...

"ARAN SAN DID YOU FINALLY MEET THE LOVE OF YOUR LIFE!?"

It was so loud that Atsumu's voice echoed even when Aran had literally walked away from the phone after setting it down on the bedside table. Why isn't he surprised?

There were some more loud incoherent response, that he didn't bother listening to. He ultimately picked up the phone when a series of 'hellos' flooded through the phone.

"yeah, I'm here." he says, cutting the question off.

"gosh, seriously? How? Why? When? WHAT!?" Atsumu asks, flooding the call with questions again.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Aran narrates the incident briefly. Atsumu screams again.

"I can't believe you found a girl for yourself! That too someone I know!"

Aran smiles as your picture comes to his mind. "yeah. I can't believe it myself."

"so when are you asking her out?"

The smile dropped. "I don't have her number." he mumbled.

"say what?"

"I...don't have her number. I was meaning to ask you if you have it or not." he says, this time more clearly.

"you...why don't you have her number again?" Atsumu asks, perplexed.

"because I felt she'd stop talking to me. She isn't exactly the most open person around."

"hmm. That's kinda true, I'll admit." the Miya says, "even when she was an intern here, she mostly stuck to herself and her work. But she was friendly."

Aran nods to no one in particular. "so? Do you have it?"

"I gotta check. Like you said, she was closer to hinata. If I don't have it then he might have it." Atsumu says before continuing. "wait a minute. What do I get from this?"

Aran's eyebrow raises in confusion. "an awesome sister-in-law?" he states like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

Atsumu laughs. "very nice. But I'm serious."

"I'm serious too." Aran says in heartbeat. Did Atsumu think he wasn't serious about you? Rude.

"woah. Okay. But if I get the number, you gotta come to the bar with me." the voice from the other side says.

"cool."

He could at least do this if he gets your number right?

Atsumu cuts the call with a cheer. A few minutes in, Aran's phone pings, and there it was – your number.

I didn't have it. Got it from shoyo. Atsumu wrote.

Thanks man.

You better be there. I'll be waiting.

A'ight.

Feeling giddy, Aran saves the number and sends out a silent prayer that you haven't changed the number.

hey. Is this y/n? Aran texts you, legs bouncing as he sits on his bed.

A second later. who is this?

Aran

Suddenly the phone rings. Panic sets in Aran. He didn't expect you to call.

Picking up the phone, he kept silent, waiting for you to speak.

"how did you get my number?" was the first thing you said.

"I asked Atsumu. Who asked Hinata."

You made a noise, kinda like in disbelief. Then you start laughing. "why didn't you ask me?"

Aran looked guilty. "I...didn't think you would give me your number."

"ah..." you trail off. You couldn't deny it. You were a skeptical person. "I didn't think Hinata would still have my number though..."

"maybe he still thinks you're his friend."

Friend? Sure, Hinata was a friendly person. But being 'friends' with the staff wasn't exactly ideal for players.

"maybe." you say softly.

"ah, I wanted to ask you something." Aran says, after a minute of silence.

Your heart picks up. Was he going to drop the L-bomb? You couldn't deny the affection brewing in you, specially after talking to him for a couple of months now, and knowing how sweet he is.

"w-what did you want to ask?" you ask, stuttering a little.

"will you be there on the day of the game?"

You had the urge to roll your eyes and pass a snarky comment. If there was something that amused you like heck, it was this habit of Aran where he would ask the most obvious questions. Like meeting a someone in the movie theater and asking "whatchu doing here?"

"yes. We are one of the sponsors." you answer, moving aside the urge. This sweet man doesn't deserve that sass.

"oh great. So...will you meet me before the game? I gotta tell you something."

Your eyes widen. Millions questions run in your mind and all point to one direction – something that you don't want to believe is true.

"okay." you answer, your voice coming out a little strained.

"really? Cool! I'll see you then. Goodnight." Aran beams before cutting the call.

You blink at the black screen of your phone. Did he really call you for this? Men are so confusing.

***

Aran was nervous. The room was brimming with men dressed in the red team uniform, and his eyes was floating between the teammates. It lingered a longer on ushijima, and he mind went back to the time when you had commented on ushijima's birthday post with lots of hearts. The jealousy he felt, sheesh.

Then he turns to sakusa. According to you, he was the only one you never spoke to even once. He mostly kept to himself, but every fellow intern with you swooned over the mysterious man. He had grimaced at that. Did y/n too swooned? Guess we'll never know.

Finally, his eyes land on Atsumu who was talking to bokuto. He was the only one who knew about you, and Aran worried that he will open his big mouth, but the blonde proved to be more faithful than that. But it still didn't stop him from hammering Aran with questions about you.

Aran's eyes flickered to his phone every other minute, waiting for the text from you, saying you were here. You had told him you'll text him, so he was waiting for the go.

"you have been staring at the phone since forever." a chirpy voice brings him out of the daydream.

He turns to see Hinata, smiling up at him. "are you waiting for something?"

Before Aran could answer, his phone pings and the screen turns on, displaying your name (that had multiple hearts beside it) and the text saying you were waiting for him outside in the corridor.

Both he and Hinata stared at the phone, at your text. Suddenly the tangerine goes, "is y/n your girlfriend Aran san!?"

And boy, was he loud.

Every pair of eyes in the room turned to their flustered looking captain, who just stood there speechless. Atsumu, who was mirroring Aran, jumped to defend him.

"h-hey now. Let's leave him alone. I'm sure it's nothing–"

"ah, I see y/n standing there though. Hi y/n!"

Atsumu turns to see bokuto and Hinata at the entrance, waving at someone. Too late.

Slowly everyone poured out of the room, looking at the one who apparently stole their leader's heart.

You.

And you? Yeah, you are definitely representing a new born calf with your shaky legs. No matter how many people you have met through your job – a group of hunks, who are also national players mind you, and at least a head taller than you, staring at you like you're some sort of star, doesn't help.

It looked like a herd of huskies looking at a small mouse.

You wanted to run away.

Hinata walks up to you, clapping your shoulder lightly. "long time no see y/n!" he greets you, smile wide.

You give him a nervous smile. "hey shoyo kun..."

"so you're dating Aran san?" bokuto pipes in from behind Hinata.

Your eyes almost pop out of your sockets? What in the world...

"no I'm not." you say, firmly but politely.

His eyebrows scrunched in a frown. "then why did he have hearts beside your name?" he murmurs to himself.

You didn't quite catch that. So you ask, "pardon?"

"nothing. It's nothing." you finally hear the voice of the person because of who you came all the way here. And even put in a little effort with the makeup.

Aran walks up to you three with long strides, his expression almost panicky. He stands beside you and sighs. "guys. Please. Let her breathe."

Both hinata and bokuto look at each other before exchanging a knowing smirk and step back a few steps. Something you were grateful for. It was getting too much.

Aran smiled at you softly before introducing you to everyone. A series of 'hi' and 'hello' circled around in response. Hinata, bokuto and Atsumu knew who you were already. Atsumu even went beyond and did a dramatic bow before taking your hands in his and tried to place a kiss but Aran's loud clearing of throat and your panicked face stopped him.

But nothing prepared you for ushijima's turn. He just stood in front of you, his eyes unblinking and his face without expression. You almost mistook him for an android, when he gives you a small smile. "hello."

It was a polite smile, something people do out of curtsy but that didn't stop you from internally squealing because OH MY GOODNESS USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI JUST SMILED AT ME.

Aran saw how your palms were in a fist. You were trying not to fangirl, he noticed. It made him a little sad to be honest. If only he would get the same reaction from you.

"hello." you say, trying to focus. "all the best for the game. All of you."

Everyone thanked you before they all went inside the room, leaving you alone with Aran. They could see how eager he was to be with you in some privacy.

Aran turns to you and smiles again, but that quite didn't reach his eyes. You frowned at that.

"are you nervous for the game?" you ask him.

Aran shakes his head. "a little. But I know we'll be fine."

"then what's got you looking so forlorn?"

Aran chuckles at your choice of words. He knew you liked reading classics, and that's where you got most of your vocabulary from. "it's nothing. I'm happy to see you. Sorry for the chaos in the beginning." he points towards the door.

You smile. "it's okay. I was a little surprised when I saw bokuto san and shoyo."

"yeah..."

Aran looked distracted. His hands were clasped together and he looked everywhere but you. You tilted your head, wondering what's gotten into him.

"mr Aran, are you okay?" you ask, your voice carrying concern, something that felt like music to the man in front of you.

He stares at you. You squirm a little under the intense gaze, and as much as you wanted to stare back and get lost in those eyes, you had to be sure this is going towards where you think it's going.

Suddenly Aran steps closer, his chest hitting your chin. You look up at him and before you could understand what's happening, he cups your hands in his large hands and place a deep, but soft kiss on your lips.

At that moment, your first instinct was to check whether there were other people in the area.

His lips were soft. You always thought they were. They looked so soft that you had asked him what he used for his lips and actually went and bought the same chapstick. They were also thick, something you were a little envious of.

But oh well, those same luscious lips are smooching the heck outta you.

You grabbed his forearms that held your face delicately. Aran parted his lips more, and you bit on his bottom lip, earning a soft groan from him.

As for Aran, yeah. You can say he was ready to drop on one knee and ask your hand for marriage. He was THAT crazy about you. And the kiss just took the cherry on the cake.

Aran parted from you, both of your eyes in a daze, before he snapped back to reality. His eyes widened at your hooded eyes and parted lips. He tried to remove his hands from you but your grip on him stopped him.

"you really need to check your surrounding before doing something like that." you state moments later. Your eyes looked more clear now, and you were staring at him with some unknown emotion.

Aran gulped and looked around, finding the place empty except for the two of you.

"I'm so sor–"

"sorry doesn't cut it." you cut him off. You weren't even smiling. Are you mad at him?

Aran doesn't know why he suddenly kissed you. He just wanted to. You looked beautiful. You are beautiful. And Aran wanted to kiss you.

Suddenly your face breaks into a small smile. "I don't need your apology. I want you to ask me out so I can say yes."

He just looks at you, stunned. So...his feelings are reciprocated?

Aran wanted nothing more than to just hug you and jump around in joy. Even shout out his love for you. But if he did that it will cause trouble. So he's gonna reserve that for when the two of you are alone.

Placing his forehead on yours, he asks in a whisper. "will you be mine y/n? I'll treat you like a queen."

"only if you get me a selfie with ushijima and his autograph."

Aran laughs, his head too high in the clouds to even feel jealous. He knows you don't mean it. He knows you are his. And he is yours.

"but it's you I'll be cheering the most for. Get em' captain." you finish the sentence.

Aran nods, your foreheads still against each other. He wanted to cry. But no, not yet. He's going to win this game for you. And hug you in front of everyone. And then cry in your arms. And then–

"you should go inside. It's almost time." your voice snaps him back from the fantasy.

He looks at you, now standing a little apart from him. Your hands were beside you, and you were giving him the googly eyes now.

Taking your hands in his, he kisses your knuckles. "I love you." he says, and walks off, leaving you a hot mess.

Well, this is interesting, you think, smiling in anticipation for what's to come.

Best boy Aran deserves a good scenario too. And I hope it lives up to his expectations. 😬

I got three more scenarios coming up for my three favourite boys – Osamu, Suna, and husband Kita. I'm not sure when I'll update it but it's coming soon. Stay tuned.

[suituuup]

that's the kind of love i've been dreaming of

Has Beca mentioned that she hates his guts? Everything is just too… annoyingly nice. His charming smile, his messy but not too messy hair, his sense of humor, and well, his taste in women, as he’s dating the girl Beca happens to be in love with.

Word count: 2005

Rating: T

Entry for Bechloe week, day one: “Because I'm in love with you, dumbass.”

Beta by the lovely @snowonebutyou and thanks to @green-eyed-weirdo for bouncing ideas with me <3

READ ON AO3

*

The muffled giggle greeting Beca when she steps through the door makes her groan. The deep voice that follows confirms that Chloe is indeed not alone, and Beca briefly considers turning around and… going for a walk or something.

But her feet are about to fall off, she feels gross from her overcrowded subway ride home where she’s pretty sure a dude sniffed her hair, and she is really fucking tired.

She’s just flopped down face first on the pull-out couch when the door to Chloe’s bedroom opens, and two sets of feet grow closer.

“You alright, Becs?”

Beca grunts something inaudible in acknowledgment before she rolls on her back. “M’fine.”

“Hey Beca,” Chicago greets her with a soft smile, and Beca somehow manages to leash in her sneer.

“Hey,” she mumbles, the best she can muster when it comes to Chloe’s boyfriend.

Has she mentioned that she hates his guts? Everything is just too… annoyingly nice. His charming smile, his messy but not too messy hair, his sense of humor, and well, his taste in women, as he’s dating the girl Beca happens to be in love with.

Yep. It’s only been four years and a half; not a big deal.

She was this close to admitting her feelings to Chloe, still reeling with adrenaline after her solo performance, when Chloe ran to Army Boy instead. Beca doesn’t think she knew what a broken heart felt like until that very moment.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Chicago asks, setting his hands on Chloe’s hips.

“Yeah,” Chloe agrees and leans up to kiss his lips. Beca rolls her eyes, grabbing her phone from her back pocket as a distraction from the display of gag-worthy affection.

The door finally clicks shut behind Chicago, and Beca hears Chloe sigh. That kind of content sigh that has jealousy flare up within her because Chloe should be sighing like that because of her.

“I thought he was leaving tomorrow morning?” Beca asks as she scrolls through her Instagram, not really registering the photos zooming past her eyes.

“Not anymore,” Chloe says, biting on her bottom lip like she’s trying to prevent a smile from breaking through. “He’s um, going to be stationed in Brooklyn. His request just got granted.”

A huge lump forms in Beca’s throat as she registers the news and an uneasy feeling seized her stomach. “That’s--” she swallows with difficulty, swiping her tongue over her dry lips. “That’s great, Chlo.”

She soon exits Instagram, opening her safari to look for apartment listings.

*

Finding an apartment in New York City within her price range, as it turns out, is pretty fucking difficult.

You would think Beca was aware of that given the fact that there used to be one more person living in her current studio, with a simple curtain acting as bathroom walls.

(she definitely has PTSD from that night Amy had food poisoning from Taco Bell.)

When Amy moved out, Chloe took her room, because Beca is the night owl of the two, usually coming home late from work or cooking dinner after Chloe has gone to bed.

It’s pushing eleven by the time she makes it back that night, and she prays that Chloe is already in bed. The past couple of weeks following the news have been… weird, to say the least. Beca has been avoiding Chloe, coming up with excuses whenever Chloe asks her if she wants to hang out.

She makes herself a quick dinner (okay, makes might be a bit of an overstatement: she just pours some hot water over instant noodles. Don’t come at her.) and messes around on her laptop for a while, turning the lights off just after one am.

A moan reaching her ears just as she feels herself dozing off has her eyes fly open. A moan that very much belongs to Chloe, and Beca just wants to disappear off the face of the earth. Quiet laughter follows, and when the bed starts squeaking, leaving no doubt regarding what they’re doing in there, Beca ponders smothering herself with her own pillow.

She grabs her headphones instead, hastily placing them over her ears before she hears something that will most likely scar her forever. It somewhat cancels out the sounds, enough for Beca to fall asleep. She flees the apartment before either of them is awake, drowning her sorrows in a double espresso from the corner coffee shop.

Over the next few days, she excels in avoiding Chloe. She knows Chloe’s schedule well enough to come back when she’s either asleep or not there. Or at least she thought so.

“Hey.”

Beca freezes as she closes the door, looking over her shoulder to find Chloe popping her head out of the fridge.

Beca clears her throat, rubbing her nose with her knuckle as she stares down at the scuff of her shoes. “Hey,” she echoes, setting her keys down on the counter.

“Long time no see,” Chloe says as Beca sits on the edge of her bed to take her boots off.

“Yeah um, I’ve been busy,” Beca mumbles as she undoes her laces.

“Busy avoiding me?”

Beca’s spine snaps straighter at that, and she looks up to meet Chloe’s eyes. “No, just--” her shoulder lifts in a half shrug. “I figured you and Chicago might enjoy some private time together.”

Chloe hums like she doesn’t believe her. “You’d tell me if-- if something was bothering you, right? I feel like I’ve done something wrong.”

Beca swallows. “It’s not you, Chlo. I’m just--” she sighs, feeling her frustration rise as she scrapes her brain for a believable lie. “Work sucks and I feel like I’m getting nowhere, so I’ve been crankier than usual.”

Chloe nods, her lips curving in a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry you’re having a hard time at work,” she says. “We should go out tonight! It’s been forever.”

Beca’s rebuttal lies on the tip of her tongue, out of reflex. She swallows it back, because Chloe is giving her those puppy eyes she’s mastered so well, and Beca knows damn well she can’t resist. Besides, she could definitely use a drink. Or ten.

“Yeah, okay. Sure.”

That’s how they find themselves in an overly too loud, busy club a handful of hours later. Beca is definitely tipsy, and Chloe has just ordered shots, so she knows she’s likely to finish the night with her head in the toilet. But she hasn’t laughed like that in a while, and it feels amazing to be… Beca and Chloe again.

It’s ruined just after Beca downs her first shot, when Army Boy shows up.

“Hi!” Chloe exclaims, springing up from her stool to hug him.

Beca grits her teeth so hard that she’s half-concerned they might break, her eyes throwing daggers at Chicago’s head.

“Hey Beca,” he says, apparently oblivious as he slides on the vacant stool.

Beca simply tilts her chin towards him, along with a tight-lipped smile. As Chicago orders his drink with the waitress, Beca shrugs her jacket on. “I’m gonna go,” she announces over the music, not caring one bit that it’s obvious as to why.

She doesn’t wait for a reply, letting her legs carry her towards the exit as quickly as possible as tears burn her eyes. She bumps into someone in her haste and mumbles a disoriented sorry, sucking in a much needed breath as soon as she steps outside of the club.

The music gradually fades away as she starts down the sidewalk, tugging her jacket tighter around her frame when a chill rolls down her spine. She’s not even sure in which direction she’s going, set on hailing the first cab she finds.

“What the hell is your problem??”

Beca freezes at the familiar voice, swallowing around the forming lump in her throat before she turns around. She barely meets Chloe’s eyes. “I’m just tired, Chlo.”

“Bullshit,” Chloe spits out, a scoff flying past her lips as she shakes her head. Her typically warm eyes are bone-chilling icy. “You left the second he got here.”

Beca sighs heavily, her hands forming fists by her sides in an attempt to tame her growing irritation. “Yeah well, maybe I didn’t feel like being the third wheel. I thought it was just going to be you and I, tonight. But you two have been attached to the hip and all you can talk about is Chicago this, Chicago that.”

“Well I’m sorry if I enjoy his company,” Chloe fires back. “You know, the least you could do is be happy for me.”

“Oh great, the guilty card,” Beca says, eyes rolling skyward. She sucks in a sharp breath. “I can’t be happy for you, Chlo.”

Chloe staggers back as though Beca’s words slapped her in the face. “What?”

“I said, I can’t be happy for you,” Beca repeats, her tone rising along with her frustration.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Chloe asks, a mixture of anger, hurt and confusion surfacing in her features. “Why can’t you be happy for me? That’s what best friends are supposed to do, you know. I mean, are you even still my best friend? Because you haven’t been acting like one those past--”

“Because I’m in love with you, dumbass!” Beca finally blurts, a lot louder than necessary. Her declaration catches the attention of a few bypassers, but Beca is too focused on Chloe to care.

She watches as realization dawns in Chloe’s eyes, and all she can hear is her heart beating madly in her ears. She swallows, glancing down at the crack in the sidewalk. “And I’m the biggest idiot in the world,” she mumbles, roughly wiping at her cheeks when she feels a few tears rolling down her skin. “I’ll be out of the apartment by tomorrow.”

Beca is thankful Chloe doesn’t follow her when she turns around and resumes her journey home. She ends up walking all the way, too embarrassed to break down in a cab like in those stupid rom-coms. She texts Amy when she makes it back to ask if she can crash at her fancy apartment, fishing out her suitcase as soon as her friend agrees. Tears keep leaking out, and Beca wipes them away with her sleeve before she starts shoving her clothes into the suitcase, trying to ignore the way her heart aches.

A key slides into the lock just as she’s done packing. Beca straightens and hastily wipes her cheeks dry, even though she knows her bloodshot eyes will betray her.

“You’re really leaving,” Chloe murmurs, her voice barely audible.

Beca sniffles as she heaves her suitcase off the bed and sets it down. “Yep.”

“Why?”

Beca bites back a humorless laugh. “I don’t know, maybe because I’m not a masochist?” She deadpans. “Seeing you and Chicago together isn’t exactly fun.”

“We broke up.”

Beca’s breathing halts as she registers the words. Her jaw slacks. “What?”

Chloe clears her throat a little, taking a step closer. She’s fiddling with her keys, something she does when she gets shy, nervous or nervous, or excited. “Well, I broke up with him.”

“You did?” Beca croaks out.

Chloe nods, the corners of her lips upturning in a sheepish smile. “Because it’s always been you, dumbass.”

Beca’s lungs flood with oxygen, and her shoulders slump, releasing the tension at once. “Oh.”

“Oh?” Chloe echoes, raising an eyebrow as she takes another step.

Beca closes her eyes briefly, her head tilting as she frowns. “Sorry, I think my brain needs to be re-booted. Could you um, could you say that again?”

Chloe chuckles, finally closing the remaining distance between them. She cups Beca’s cheek and joins their lips in a soft, lingering kiss. Beca’s knees quake as a bunch of butterflies release in her belly, and she can’t quite believe this is really happening.

She licks her tingling lips when Chloe pulls away, feeling a bit dizzy. “Um, I’m not sure I quite got that one, either. Care for an encore?”

The first of many, many ones.

[aureutr]

Ha, I just re-discovered some stuff I deleted from Chapter 4 of Borrowed Time. Enjoy

tw: no serious dark content, but from a dark fic. Some harassment. Also unedited, kind of rambly

{slight context - in the previous scene Leia asked if Luke and Han were a “thing” and Luke told her it was weird and complicated}

The “thing” between Han and Luke was more confusing than it was complicated. At first it was just about sharing their heats, neither could stand to watch or listen to the other suffer when they could do something about it. But afterward Han would hold Luke at a distance, saying something about how it would complicate working together.

Over time that distance seemed to shrink, until one day it disappeared altogether.

Luke only socialized with the Alliance sparingly. Some of them were cordial, a few like Wedge Antilles were even friendly, but too many saw his designation first and Luke second. If they saw him at all. Walking through the halls of the Rebellion’s base on Hoth was a gauntlet of leers, wandering hands, come ons, and baby talk. It was better when he was with Leia, but it never stopped entirely.

So it was a rare thing that Luke joined Chewie’s sabacc game. He ran one with the pilots whenever they were staying with the Rebellion. Tonight he was with both Han and Chewie, one on either side. It almost didn’t even feel as though they were shielding him, though they obviously were. Some of the pilots were drinking, as was Chewie, but Luke and Han abstained.

“So what do you do when you’re not here, anyway?” Hobbie asked, drawing a card from the pile on the table.

<Smuggle, mostly,> Chewie answered. About half of the pilots could understand him. Luke’s own Shyriiwook had come a long way.

Hobbie laughed. “I was talking to Luke. That ship looks like it barely holds together, you could get a better job somewhere.”

“Oh sure, cleaning crew for the Alliance,” Luke tried to keep his tone light. ”Sounds great.”

“I can’t believe your sister lets you run around loose,” Wes said. “You’d be treated better around here if you had an alpha, you know.”

“I’m good,” came out through gritted teeth.

Wedge nudged Wes. “Stop it. Luke saved all of us on Yavin and he gets enough of that from everyone else on the base.”

“What?” Wes finished his drink. “It’s true.”

<Cut it out or leave the game.>

Wes was not one of the pilots who understood Chewie, but when he got a translation he rolled his eyes.

“Fine. Offer’s open but I’ll shut my mouth.”

Luke didn’t have a snappy comeback to that. It burned that Wes wasn’t entirely wrong, people would at least stop propositioning him if he was paired off. But they should leave him alone because that was what he wanted, not because some alpha had staked a claim on him.

He was so focused on that irritating line of thought that when an arm wrapped around his waist he nearly shoved the owner off reflexively. He relaxed when he realized it was Han. Luke didn’t understand at first, but he didn’t protest when Han dragged him closer across the bench they shared.

“Maybe he’s just private and is with someone who doesn’t need to bite him immediately,” Han kept his voice neutral but flicked his eyes up over his cards to glance at Wes. “You gonna call or not?”

Han left his arm there for the rest of the evening and Luke tried not to read anything into it. He was better at shielding now, and kept them clamped down tight most of the time, he couldn’t tell what Han was feeling. Surely it was a platonic motion calculated to protect him from more comments, but he didn’t know that he wanted confirmation one way or the other. The possibility was there, and he was long past pretending he wasn’t attracted to Han, but he also thought if he was rejected one more time he might shatter. He did his best to put his mind back on his cards.There were no more inappropriate comments that evening and the Falcon’s crew made their way back to their ship in relatively high spirits. Chewie had cleaned up, as usual, though Luke’s own pockets were a little lighter than he had hoped. Han kept an arm around him until they were back on the ship, though there were few people in the halls at this late hour.

<I’m going to bed,> Chewie said as soon as they boarded. <Don’t stay up too late.>

“Yes, Dad,” Han sassed in return, making a face at his back. Chewie didn’t rise to the bait.

That left Han and Luke standing in the corridor, no longer touching. Luke’s tongue felt heavy in his mouth, he knew better than to ask if this latest gesture meant anything and yet…

He decided to take a gamble and let his shields drop slightly. It wasn’t fair of him but he was more than sick of playing fair while the galaxy ground him into the dirt. Han felt nervous, and slightly irritated still. At the pilots, not at Luke. There was something more complicated underneath that but Luke had no time to focus on it, as Han began talking.

“Sorry for grabbing you without asking.”

Luke huffed a small laugh.

“I think you, Leia, and Chewie are the only people who can do that and get away with it. But thanks. You don’t mind that they think we’re a couple now?”

Han shrugged one shoulder.

“Not looking for a date in the Alliance.” He made a face. “And I know what it’s like to be treated that way.”

Han had been treated far worse than the annoyance the Alliance could be, but Luke didn’t say as much. Even when he could feel the darker feelings bubbling under the surface of his emotions. He knew he should bring his shields back up, but instead he put a hand on Han’s arm.

“Thanks.”

“Yeah.”

Han put a hand over Luke’s, absently stroking the skin with his thumb. He noticed what he was doing and stopped the motions, but did not pull away. Luke felt eddies of uncertainty and anticipation from him. He squeezed the arm he was holding.

“Stop that,” Han said quietly.

“Sorry,” Luke tried to pull his hand away but Han held it fast.

“Not that, stop the space wizard crap. It’s cheating.”

Luke let an amused smile creep across his face. He reinforced his shields so he could no longer peek into Han’s emotions.

“Cheating at what, exactly?”

“You should be using it to cheat at sabacc, you’re a terrible player.”

Luke bunched his hand into the fabric of Han’s jacket and stepped closer, making an offended noise.

“Am not. And stop dodging the question.”

Without the Force he only had facial expressions to go off of. Han grimaced, then sighed.

“This is a bad idea. You don’t exactly have a lot of options if something doesn’t work out.”

“If what doesn’t work out, moon jockey?”

A challenge, even implied, was a sure-fire way to cut through any game Han was playing. Annoyance flickered across his face for only a moment before he grabbed either side of Luke’s open jacket and hauled him in for a kiss. Luke pressed himself into it completely, letting one arm wrap around Han’s neck and the other card through his hair. He had to stand on his toes to get the angle right, Han was tall for an omega. It was what made his cologne deception work.

Speaking of,

“You smell awful,” Luke whispered when he pulled back for a breath.

Han made a noise that may have been a chuckle and shoved him into a bulkhead. He bent to kiss him again, but paused.

“You can say ‘no’, you know. I won’t throw you off the ship.”

“I know.”

Luke closed the distance remaining between them before Han could talk himself out of this again. He felt warmth spreading through his core, something more than welcome on this frigid planet. It wasn’t the fever that came along with a heat but it coiled pleasantly in his lower belly in a similar way.

He found his head tilting back a little further than he meant, and Han took the motion as an invitation to start kissing his way to his neck. Luke shivered when his lips passed over his scent gland. When the lips were replaced by a warm tongue he moaned involuntarily. The longer Han worked at it, the less coherent Luke’s thoughts became. He felt weightless, as if they were in space and the grav plating in the Falcon had suddenly failed.

Han pulled back. It took Luke longer than he could track to come back to himself. He blinked, realizing that he had stopped supporting his own weight. Han had him pinned against the bulkhead to keep him upright.

“Sorry, got carried away. Do you want to move?”

Luke nodded as he managed to get his feet underneath him again. The attentions had brought him to full hardness and he moved experimentally against Han. He was rewarded with a soft groan. They walked to Han’s quarters, mostly by sliding against the bulkheads so they could pause to grind against each other.

Han palmed open the door and pushed Luke inside, then back onto the bed. He leaned over him but Luke put a hand on his face, pushing him back.

“Cologne,” was all he said.

Han laughed and stood. He gave a tiny, mocking bow.

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Luke rolled his eyes. “I’m a moisture farmer.”

“I’m pretty sure being a princess’ brother makes you some kind of something.”

“Can we not talk about my sister right now?”

Han had one foot in the fresher and an impish grin on his face. He shrugged.

“I could be into twins,” he said before the door slid closed behind him.

“You could be into your hand if you don’t cut it out!” Luke yelled back.

{the end, I didn’t write any more of that scene, sorry}

[sohin-ace]

Bucci gang hc with a female team member that's always tired and sleeping but has lightning fast reflexes? Like, she's always tired and sluggish but she always manages to survive and complete missions. Every. Single. Dang. Time.

Didn't write dialogue for Abba because his HC was so long already.

Bucci gang w/ a chronically tired S/O HC

Bucciarati

The least worried of the group, but still somewhat concerned.

He knew what you were capable of. He took you in after seeing the extent of your abilities. It didn't matter what the gang thought of you at first, they would eventually understand, was what he told you.

He's never seen someone so physically drained in his life and he'd love to believe that you may have a clinical condition that explains it.

Gets so frustrated when you don't listen to him during briefings and go to do your things on your own in missions.

It's so dangerous and he gets so scared. Even if you always succeed, sometimes without a single scratch, he still can't help but worry.

He stomps to you and when you think he's going to yell at you or slap you for being so reckless, he instead takes you in his arms, relieved.

"It's only a matter of time until something happens to you... God you scare me..."

Otherwise, he has no problems letting you lean onto him when you're feeling spent, or want to nap on him in the car.

Abbachio

Really? That was the new member Bucciarati trusted and brought in?

He was so pissed and frustrated whenever you laid halfway onto the table during meetings, or dozed off when someone reported for duty.

You were so lazy, undisciplined and churlish he couldn't stand it at times.

Some people, like him, worked their ASSES off to get to where they were, and you were just hunched over and drooling?

He was okay with a member feeling a bit sick or tired occasionally, especially if it was Bruno who overworked, but you were just too much!

He constantly slaps you to wake you up or get your attention and scolds you for it.

The way you handled the missions with such endeavour and skill was so contradictory to your usual slow attitude, he was so surprised.

To be honest he's terrified. How could someone be so two-faced?

But now he finally understood why you had been taken here by Bucciarati. You were indeed a valuable addition to the team, he had to recognize it.

It takes time for him to actually trust you and make sure you won't betray them, but he's still very admirative.

Giorno

He wouldn't show it but he was a bit worried. About the gang but mostly about you.

He guessed that you had some vitamin defficiency or anemia maybe? That would explain it, but he was no doctor.

He likes to believe that you're not just plain lazy and careless. If Bucciarati took you in, it was for a reason, he wanted to trust you.

And he was absolutely right.

He had been stuck, alone and in the verge of death on one dreadful mission. Nobody was there, and he couldn't call out for help.

He had used Golden Experience as a desperate last resort to call for one of the members, but he had no hope of anyone coming just in time to save him.

He was beyond shocked when, barely a few minutes after his call, you bursted through the place at lightspeed and took him away, not letting anyone even find you as you brought him to safety.

How did you come in so fast? Where were all the enemies? Did you... take them out all by yourself?

"Thank you, Y/N... I... I owe you my life..."

Otherwise, he puts a bunch of flowers and leaves on your hair when you nap.

Mista

He was pretty laid-back and lazy himself sometimes too. When he sees you chilling, sleeping, looking all jaded he just chuckles and join you in.

When you join the gang at first, he doesn't doubt that you could be a great spy, or a healer, maybe you could spot enemies like Narancia?

Surely he was NOT prepared for what kind of abilities you truly hid behind your tired and deviant facade.

The way you were fighting and the speed and clarity in your movements, he couldn't even catch everything with his two eyes.

The pistols had called for you, as Mista was in a dire situation and surely enough, you were there mere minutes after. He wondered if you had teleporting abilities or if your Stand gave you some kind of hyper speed. Turns out, you were just that fast.

You told him to hang in there and took his gun to finish off the enemies. Taking them one by one.

Your tone and the energy you had in your voice sent electricity down his spine. You were so... Different than what you has used him to.

You patch him up with expertise and he can't help but stare at you like you were a Godly revelation.

"Not gonna lie Y/N, that was kinda hot..."

Narancia

Pranks you all day. And I mean ALL DAY.

There's a recurring joke about how you're going to be the first one to die because of how lazy you are and how you're probably gonna fall asleep mid-fight.

Bucciarati does not like those jokes, at all.

Takes great pleasure in waking you up in the loudest and most obnoxious way possible just to see you flinch and panick.

"Giorno, put a centipede in Y/N's ear. Come on it's gonna be fun!"

How do you manage to sleep with him, Mista and Fugo fooling around next to you all the time, that was a grand mystery.

He brings you pizza, claiming 'you need vitamins'. Because everyone knows pizza have the perfect amounts of nutrients...

He's so impressed and admirative of you when you absolutely kill it during missions. It's like you're a completely different person, he doesn't recognize you.

He's your number 1 fanboy, please sign him an autograph because wow, you're so incredible he can't believe you're real.

It's incredibly funny how you immediately start to yawn and sleep in the car right after the Tom Cruise stunts you just pulled 5 minutes ago.

Fugo

He thinks you're just lazy and he doesn't feel comfortable with you here at first.

Like Abbachio, he wonders what went on Bucciarati's mind to even recruit somebody like you?

But at the same time he's very curious. Did you have some kind of strange disorder he's never heard of?

Every time he saw you, you were either sleeping, slumped over, or just plain out of it.

Are you doing this on purpose to mess with him or piss him off? Because if you are, it's working.

He forces coffee, orange juice, soda, anything down your throat to keep you awake and focused on missions, and when you refuse, he starts biting his nails.

"You better stay focused on this one I swear to God...!"

He's so scared and anxious you're gonna fuck it all up and get someone, or worse even, yourself killed just because you're a careless slug.

When he sees how operational and strong you were and how incredibly fast you acted during missions, his view on you does a complete 180.

In the end, your down-toned presence was very cooling for his angry soul, and he couldn't afford to lose you so stupidly and easily...

Trish

The first time she saw you she wasn't too surprised to see you napping and being a bit slow.

You were in the mafia after all, not necessarily the calmest and chillest occupation. It was okay to feel sleepy once in a while... Or all the time.

She even believed that you weren't just tired physically, but rather maybe you were tired of them.

And honestly? She relates.

But when one day on a mission you went from dragging your feet slowly like a drunkard to swiftly grabbing her, lifting her in your arms like she weighted nothing and running like a freaking cheetah a second after hearing gunshots, she was FLABBERGASTED.

First of all, WHAT? Second of all, HOW? She is so shaken and her eyes couldn't possibly get any wider. You went from 0 to 100 REAL FAST.

She's even wondering if that's really you holding her right now or if you have been possessed or something.

When you show her a characteristic tired smirk as you run, all her doubts are wiped and she's so charmed and impressed, you litterally and figuratively sweeped her off her feet.

"You... You're amazing Y/N..."