#i'm sorry but it's been a depressing week so welcome to my depressing thoughts!

[alwayshinny]

Harry & Lily - The One Where No One Rescued Him for 10 Years

She wished there was a way to tell him that he wasn't alone, and every single night she was right there beside him in that filthy cupboard. Each night, she reached out to touch him, wishing she could hold him one last time. But she knew it was impossible, so she would just tell him how much she loved him.

[mintmatcha]

i second that other ask more of that sero x reader I beg

cw: depression, mentions of unhealthy weight loss

Kirishima hasn't seen you for days. When he knocks on your door, he can hear you moving around inside, but you never answer. The meals his mother makes sit on your welcome mat until they start to rot and he's forced to bring them back inside.

He knows it's because of Sero. He just doesn't know what to do about it.

It's one night that he manages to trap you by the apartment's garbage bin. You're carrying a box that's overfilled with things, wearing sweatpants and a dreadfully oversized top.

"Hey!" He tries to keep his voice friendly, unconcerned. "I've missed you!"

The roundness of your face is puffy and ruddy from crying. You shrug, eyes cast low. Your frame is thinner, but in a way that looks gaunt and unhealthy.

"Been busy."

"My mom wants you to come over for dinner soon," he tries. "She said she'll made whatever you want-- hey, are you throwing out your anime stuff?"

The box in your arms is stuffed with plastic pieces and ripped scraps of paper, most brightly colored, some back and white. It's the unmistakable hues of anime merch, carelessly jammed into a box and purposefully ruined.

"Yeah." With no preamble, you hoist the box into the garbage and let it fall with a thud. "I don't want it anymore."

Something doesn't feel right in his chest. It's raw, like an exposed nerve, begging for attention.

"What?" he tries to laugh. "That's crazy. Your apartment's gonna be so empty."

You don't react to that. All you do is scuff your slipper against the concrete, back and forth, as if you're just waiting for this to be over. You'd never been a social person, but this feels different. It's like you're not there anymore, gone behind the eyes.

"I'm sorry. About Sero being an asshole." Kirishima blurts out. "He shouldn't have-"

"Don't, Kirishima." You've never called him by his family name before. "It's my own fault."

You dip around him and his trash bag to go back inside, no goodbye, no eye contact. Just like that, you're gone, and he's left standing there, under the fluorescent street lamp with his quaking, horrible sickness brewing inside him.

It rocks in his stomach all night, so badly that he can't eat breakfast. By lunch, he's starving, but Sero has sat himself on Momo's desk and the memory of how dad you looked makes bile bite the back of his throat.

"You okay, buddy?" Fatgum asks that night during his internship work. Tamaki watches silently, but with an equally concerned look. Kirishima thinks that you two would have gotten along-- and that thought nearly makes him throw up. "You haven't eaten anything."

For once, Kirishima is aware of how young sixteen really is, how helpless youth can leave him. He's just a kid and he's dealing with too much.

"I think there's something wrong with my friend."

The next few weeks go quickly. One day, you're there. The next, the apartment is up for rent. Both Fatgum and his mom reassure him that you're okay, just back home with your parents for the time being. He asks if he can visit, and his mom just gives him that look she always does.

"Oh, Eijiro." his mother cups his cheek. "You're a sweet boy."

The next day, Sero is talking to some girl in class B. Kirishima'a stomach still goes sour.

[weirdsht]

Disillusioned 15 . Limelight

a/n: ngl I'm starting to hate this, it's just that my writing style doesn't seem fitting for a series. maybe next time I'll stick to one-shots lol

also I'm so so sorry for the late update. I'm so busy I haven't slept for like a week now. However, I found some free time to write huhu.

tags: injuries, blood (it's cale what did you expect), self-doubt, war

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are currently closed but my ask are still open (read pinned)

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Navigation Masterlist prev . next

_____’s time in Vegas City had been relaxing. There’s no way it wouldn’t be when everyone, mainly Cale, made sure it was. And the healer is grateful to all of them. It gave them time to think and lament over the devastating news they had received.

In turn of that kindness and space, _____ made sure to recover after they left the Caro Kingdom. It wasn’t easy, all they wanted to do was lay on the bed all day and cry. Getting energy for the slightest task, even eating, was so hard. But they still pushed themself, because war was approaching.

The battlefield is calling and its first target is their new home.

So the healer pulled themselves by their bootstraps. Even as everyone tried to assure them that it was fine to not be okay they still spared no effort to recover from their depression and be back to normal.

“Basen-nim will handle communications. The Count and Countess will be on the battlefield. Lily-nim is too young.”

Currently, Cale and _____ are having a disagreement.

“That doesn’t mean you’re the only option left. The Henituse have a lot of retainers and people we can use.”

“But can you really go all out if it isn’t one of your direct people guiding the citizens?”

Cale could only furrow his eyebrows at that retaliation. The two are currently disagreeing whether or not _____ should be in charge of leading and guiding the citizens once the Paerun Kingdom attacks. 

Silence lingered for a few seconds. Cale knows that _____ is right. Especially after that northeastern nobles meeting… Cale can only have peace of mind if the one in charge of the citizens is someone he knows. Someone he trusts

_____ reached out towards the redhead, holding his hand to show their resolve.

“Cale, I’ll be fine.”

The healer can feel Cale squeeze their hand back.

“Fine…”

Cale pauses for a moment and _____ thinks they are nearing the end of the discussion.

“But let Raon cast magic on you for disguise.”

Apparently _____ thought wrong.

No way are they allowing the young dragon to cast and maintain magic on them when they need his mana to maintain the barrier. It would also be dangerous to ask another mage for a disguise when there’s always the possibility of their enemies bringing mana disturbance tools.

“Cale you know we can’t do that.”

“Yes, that’s why you better just stay inside the castle walls or beside me and Raon.”

“I can’t do that either. I promise I’ll be safe, plus I’ll be wearing my hood and mask. There’s no way anyone would recognise me.”

Cale sighed as he used his free hand to push his hair back. 

Honestly, everyone listening in (the kids averaging 8 years old) doesn’t know why the young master is fighting this losing battle. If it had been anyone else Cale would’ve agreed in a heartbeat. 

Plus sooner or later they know he’ll give in to the healer’s wishes.

He always does.

True enough, Cale’s resolve did not even last 5 minutes before he agreed to _____’s request. It’s now official that they will be leading the citizens towards safe zones. They would also be the first line of defence in case enemies get past the barrier and start attacking the city. 

Of course, if Cale or someone else from their side gets injured then _____ will run immediately to aid them.

The other people who didn’t listen in on the conversation didn’t even have to ask how it went. Results were obvious from the way _____ was humming on their way out with Cale sighing and petting On and Hong.

“Knight-nim please check if there’s any people left on area d. If you need me I’ll be double-checking our inventory and supplies.”

It’s been a few hours after Cale and _____’s talk. Right now the healer is making sure that everything is in order while their friends are fighting the Indomitable Alliance.

As the Medicus sees Choi Han and the others attack they remember a conversation they had with Cale last night.

The two are the only ones in the room. Well, the only ones awake. The children are with them but Cale has forced them to sleep because they need the energy for tomorrow. A serving of blueberry crumble paired with jasmine tea is being enjoyed as they talk.

“I plan to create a new history. To bring new heroes forward.”

“And I assume you won’t be part of those heroes?”

_____ asked in a joking manner as they refilled both of their teacups.

“Of course not. I only want to win this war and then go rest at the underground villa peacefully.”

Cale stopped speaking to take a bite out of the dessert.

“I’m telling you this because I want to ask you if you’d like to be part of that history. This battle would be a good opportunity to show everyone that you are alive.”

“I… thank you but it would be unneeded.”

The healer’s immediate answer made Cale look at them in confusion.

“Hmm well, that’s a shame the crown prince was also thinking of giving you the Perduellio’s assets as all of them have been found guilty.”

“Is he? I didn’t know such a thing.”

Of course _____ didn’t. Only Cale and Alberu know of such a thing. They're also the only ones who know the sorry state that family is currently in.

“But still… While I do agree with you that this is a good time to do that I still don’t want to do it. My time in the spotlight was not a good experience for me. It would be enough for me to see our friends be known and bask in that light.”

_____ sipped their tea before continuing.

“There’s also the fact that my adoptive family had committed a grave sin. I don’t think it’s right for me to strive for fame when I am still legally part of that family. I will reveal myself, but it won’t be now. I hope Cale and the crown prince can understand…”

Cale nodded in understanding. He's not cruel enough to force someone to do what he wants just because he wants to hide in the shadows. There are already more than enough heroes that he can push into the spotlight.

“I understand, I’ll inform the crown prince don’t worry about it.”

_____ snapped out of their daydream to focus back on their task. 

At least tried to.

Right about when _____ is about to talk to another knight they saw Cale bleed. The healer would have left it to the priests and healers near the field if it was just Cale’s normal bleeding. But it wasn’t.

Cale is bleeding from basically every orifice of his body.

And his too far away for _____ to accurately see if he's okay.

“I��ll leave the rest to you knight-nim, I must assist our Commander.”

So the healer runs. 

They run the fastest they’ve ever had in their entire left. _____ ran so fast they got there before the healers could.

“__– healer-nim you shouldn’t be here.” 

Countess Violan made sure that the healer’s hood and mask were still intact. The fabric on their face had been removed to aid catch their breath from running. Good thing the hood was still intact so it’s unlikely that anyone has seen their face.

“Countess Violan It’ll be fine. Our priority should be the Commander right now.”

_____ has no way of knowing how at that moment, the Henituse’s respect for them grew even more.

The healer turned to Cale to see him talking to what seemed like the air. That must be why his parents are even more worried right now. It looks like the redhead is hallucinating.

Good thing _____ knows the truth. They know that he isn’t hallucinating and that he isn’t talking to thin air. Good thing they know that the words the young master was uttering are directed at a certain invisible dragon.

"It's fine now, I'll be supporting too."

Those words may seem like it was directed at the Countess and Cale but it was directed towards Raon. It's the healer's way of saying that everything will be fine so Raon better follows Cale's instructions.

_____ can’t see Raon nor can they hear his voice in their head, but they’re sure that the dragon has quieted down since Cale had stopped muttering

“Does healer-nim need help?”

The territory’s healer finally arrived. Meanwhile, _____ has not only aided Cale’s vitality of the heart, but they were also healing Choi Han while supporting Mary.

“Yes please.”

Short responses are the only thing _____ can form right now. They must focus all their strength on supporting three people. Choi Han is especially hard to heal. It’s because the Medicus had only known long-distance healing in theory and had never tried it in person.

The far away and moving Choi Han proved to be a difficult patient but _____ is certain that his recovering little by little from the wounds they are slowly absorbing. 

Drip

Drip

It’s a good thing the colour coding for this event is black. Even as blood drips down their sleeves no one would notice from far away.

But not the people near the Medicus.

Cale’s hand that had been holding onto _____’s arms tightened at the blood dripping down the ground. On the bright side, they are now certain that Choi Han’s shoulder wound is getting better.

Meanwhile, supporting Mary is easier but still proves to be a bit of a challenge. The Medicus has to support her as stealthily as possible to not give away her location. Usually whenever _____ uses her ancient power droplets of water would appear. Then they would cover those droplets with their light ability. 

But they can’t do that right now.

Both would be too flashy and would reveal the necromancer’s location.

So they did the next best thing. Which was making their power travel through the cracks of the ground and the wall.

Doing this while doing long-distance healing and supporting the Vitality of the Heart made _____ use more power and energy than they usually would.

“Leave some of the work to the healers and priests.”

The still pale, but doing much better now, Cale whispered. _____ looked at him to assess his condition using their power. 

“I’m okay Commander, and it looks like you’ll be okay soon too.”

_____ heard Cale sigh but ignored it. Seeing that his being ignored, Cale proceeded to gather himself so he could stand up again.

And that made the healer relieved.

Sure they knew his fine. _____ knows that the young master has a regeneration power. But seeing him being in commission again made it feel real. Especially after seeing them bleed that much.

That relief was short-lived.

Because tell _____ why was the first thing Cale did was use his powers again. The healer swears that one day Cale is gonna give them a heart attack.

Fortunately, the healer and the redhead have similar temperaments. Both can work well under immense stress and pressure while making it seem like they aren’t breaking that much sweat. Thanks to that _____’s composure didn’t falter and they were able to do what they needed to.

Choi Han is still a problem though. Because of the distance, the healer can’t fully heal him.

‘If only I was stronger’

_____ tries to push unnecessary thoughts away.

‘If only I was a saint’

Just as _____ was about to get pulled in by their thoughts, they felt a familiar chubby paw on their shoulder.

“Kind _____ hang in there a bit more, we’re close to winning! I’m going to go help out Choi Han now okay?”

Raon’s bright voice had served as a wake-up call for _____. Thanks to him the healer can fully focus on their task until the very end.

“I didn’t know you could do that.”

“I didn’t know I could too.”

Cale and _____ are currently on their way to the underground dungeon. Both of them are pale and their clothes are covered with blood but they are walking as if nothing’s wrong.

“When you were at the Paerun Kingdom I started thinking of my powers in a different light, and this was the conclusion of that.”

“But doing this is harder for your body right?”

“As if, you’re one to talk.”

_____ laughed as they saw Cale scrunch his nose at the comment.

“Yes it’s harder but it’s very useful at times like this. It's all thanks to the anatomy books Ron bought for me. Having a more in-depth idea as to how our bodies work allowed me to assess them even from far away.

It’s good to know that as long as someone is within my eyesight I can heal them. Haaa, but I must say, healing Choi Han-nim while he was riding those flying bones is hard.”

Both of them stopped at the entrance of the underground dungeon.

“Since it’s hard and you overexerted yourself, does this mean you’ll leave Choi Han in the hands of other healers?”

The healer laughed again as they waved goodbye. There’s no way Cale is allowing them to enter the dungeon and they have better things to do.

“No promises Cale.”

And if one of those ‘better things to do’ is healing Choi Han, then Cale can find out for himself later.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A Guiding Hand 5

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, parental neglect, depression, inference of self harm, violence, abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: your online academics are affected by your personal struggles but your professor won’t let you give up so easy.

Characters: Raymond Smith, Lee Bodecker in the background

Note: I'm a sleepy baby.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Another unit done. You’re not certain how you’ve kept it up but you’re just waiting for your motivation to fizzle out. Each activity, each page, you teeter on the edge of oblivion. Workbook Five is almost complete and Six will be the final for the course. There’s a shell of disbelief around you. You really did it. 

Well, not quite yet. 

You sit back and stretch your neck and shoulders. Your teachers always told you to stop hunching but your shoulders always curled forward and your neck sunk anyway. Not out of defiance, just to make yourself small, maybe even, invisible. 

You stand, fingers cold and slightly numb. It’s a rainy day and the cold seeps in as your mother keeps the radiator off. You tuck your hands into your hoodie sleeve and find your slippers, a faded old pair that used to be somewhat fluffy. 

It’s quiet. You haven’t heard your mother at all. It’s not too unusual. After a binge, sometimes she just sleeps all day and night. You don’t like it, you don’t like that it’s normal, but it’s just how she is. How it is and always will be. 

Well, you’re trying to change yourself. You can’t change her or this place. 

You open the door slowly and peek out. A habit. You emerge quietly and rub your nose with your cuff, sniffing behind your sleeve as you shuffle into the kitchen. You do your best not to make too much noise as you fill the kettle. You have a few more bags of green tea, the you’re all out. You need to go back to the grocery store but the food credits won’t come until next week. 

You turn the dial on the stove and lean against the front as the kettle sits on the back burner. You close your eyes, groggy and slightly dizzy. You’ve been staring at numbers for so long, you don’t even know what time it is. Morning at night, you can’t tell by a glance through the gray window. 

You yawn again. Maybe chamomile might be a better choice. You lift your head and lean back on your heels as you mull the decision. The floor creaks with your weight as you shift indecisively. You’re not even sure you have any left.  

As you back up, you collide with something, someone, else. You grunt as suddenly there’s a clamp around your neck and you’re shoved forward against the stove. You brace the edge, careful not to touch the top as the heat from the burner radiates across the metal. 

Lee’s chuckle brushes over your hair, “there you are, girl. You been hiding.” 

“Eek, no--” you squirm and writhe. 

He’s too strong. He pushes harder and you’re forced to bend, precariously hovering over the stove, the kettle not far from your cheek. You squeak as your slippers scuff on the floor between his feet. 

“Please--” 

“You should be begging,” he snarls, “little girl like you, messing where she shouldn’t be.” 

“I’m sorry,” you squeal, “you were hurting her--” 

“Ain’t none of your business, is it?” He jolts you and you nearly hit your head off the back of the stove. He grabs your wrist with his other hand as he pinches your neck tighter. “Your mama likes it rough, don’t ya know? Walls ain’t that thick.” 

You whine and struggle to resist him as he brings your hand up, angling it towards the kettle as you hear that water starting to hum. You can feel the heat roiling from it. You push back against him, pressing your hand to the back of the stove to get better leverage. 

“Want me to hurt you? Is that it? Tired of just listening,” he snorts, your hand shaking close to the kettle as you babble, “suppose like this, won’t be too bad.” 

He wiggles his pelvis against you and you hiccup in fear. You twitch and he shoves your hand against the kettle. You cry out as it scalds your skin, steam hissing through the spout and towards your face. Your eyes well and you gnash your teeth. 

“Pl-please,” you plead and he lets go of your arm, framing your hip instead.

He pulls you back against him, “Mmm,” he shakes his hips again, “think I could. You ain’t bad from behind.” 

Horror erupts up your throat as you scramble desperately, trapped by his weight. You grab onto the handle of the kettle, even as your burnt flesh screams, and you hurl yourself back. He staggers as you swing the heavy vessel in his direction but it only splashes on your slippers as he dodges away from you. A flare of anger lights up his blue eyes. 

“Ha,” he sneers at you, “you’re funny, girl. Got a whole lotta fight for nothing. Far as I can tell, ain’t no other man around to want you. Not even your daddy.” 

You lower the kettle, breathless and terrified. The sting of his word wounds more than the blistering flesh on your fingers. You shake your head. 

“Leave me alone,” you croak. 

“Hmph,” he curls his lips, “just you wait,” he eyes you up and down. 

You stand, paralysed by the stove. He stomps away and you watch him go, not daring to move. When you hear your mother’s door slam, you shakily set the kettle on the countertop. You turn your hand over an examine your palm, the sight of it adding to the agony. 

You don’t know how you can write now. 

📓

You tap the mousepad twice to get it to react. Your poorly wrapped hand makes everything double the task. You huff as you switch hands, awkwardly navigating to the email icon. You expand the window and find a new email. Professor Smith. 

‘Thank you for your last submission. I have reviewed your work and would like to provide feedback via Zoom if possible. Please provide times which work for you. 

Looking forward to speaking again. 

Take care, 

Raymond’ 

As usual. He is very direct. You can almost appreciate that about him and yet it does not rein in your paranoia. Feedback via Zoom? Why? Can’t he just write it down? Did you do something wrong?  

Ugh. You slump and stare at the keyboard. It can’t be avoided. You haven’t even started Six because of your hand. Maybe a review would be helpful. Besides, it would be a waste to give up now. It wasn’t so bad before, was it?  

You hit reply and key in your response slowly with one hand. 

‘Hello Professor, 

I can do anytime tomorrow.  

Thank you.’ 

It isn’t the most academic or professional response. You don’t know what else to say. You have no schedule to adhere too, you can only hope your mom isn’t making a racket. 

You send and close up the laptop. You have to rewrap your hand. It’s really hurting but you’ve been rationing the Polysporin. You just want it to heal quick so you can finish your work. 

📓

Professor Smith confirms for nine in the morning. You make sure you’re awake but your head is pulsing. Your sleep schedule is all off. You opt for a plain long-sleeved tee over the hoodie, trying to appear as presentable as you can. Nothing you own can compare to his tidy attire; you recall his sweater and stiff collar. Often, you find yourself wilting over how he must think of you. Just like everyone else does, you suppose. 

You get set up. Your room isn’t too bad. You’ve been trying to keep up on it. Your laundry is in a basket although the bookshelf is getting a bit cluttered again. Oh well, he won’t be able to see much around you. 

You open the laptop. Ten minutes to go. You can hardly sit still. Your anxiety peaks as you hear your mom’s voice from down the hall. It’s early for you, but even earlier for her. 

There’s a knock at the door, “honey, do we got any coffee left?” 

“Mom,” you get up and go to the door, cracking it open, “I left enough for a pot in the tin. I’m still waiting on the credits.” 

“Oh,” she smiles through the narrow space, “Lee musta used them the last of it.” She smiles. She’s drunk. She hasn’t just woken up, she’s been awake all night. She turns and waddles away unsteadily, “baby, we got no coffee.” 

You sigh and shut the door. You go back to the computer. Please don’t make a ruckus. You don’t need another scene. 

You click the meeting link and fidget. You’re not ready. Are you ever? Life is just doing things you’re unprepared for. 

You wince as Professor Smith appears on the screen. He greets you by name and you return a ‘hello, professor’. 

“Good morning?” He asks brightly. 

You shrug, “yeah, I guess...” you look one way then the other, uncertain, “how are you, professor?” 

“Great, thanks for asking,” he reaches for a tall mug and takes a sip before exhaling, “so, I suppose you would just like to get this over with.” 

“Um, no, er, I...” 

“Not saying anything about you,” he assures as he leans forward, crossing his arms over the desk. His eyes scan through his lens and you realise he must be reading something on the screen, “you’ve done wonderful work. I especially wanted to high light a few things.” 

“Oh, uh, yeah, I probably made some mistakes,” you clumsily click around as his image remains in the corner of the screen. You hiss as your fingers throb and open the workbook. 

“On the contrary, it’s perfect. In fact, you’ve managed to bring my own error to light. I was certain at first it wasn’t me but I went in a redid the work for Problem Eight. Clever.” 

You sit back and nod, surprised.

There’s a thump and your mom’s voice, met by Lee’s rumbling timbre. Muffled enough that their words can be deciphered but you worry it is still heard through the microphone. You clear your throat and move closer, sitting up as you bring your injured hand to rub your neck. 

“A lot going on?” Smith wonders. 

“No, sir, sorry, I wasn’t expecting it,” you shrug and scratch your cheek, the gauze rough and loose. 

“Oh my, what’s happened there? Are you alright?” 

You pause and jerk as another bang sounds and your mother’s cackle erupts, stopping sharply 

“Yes, sir,” you quickly hide your hand, “I had an accident. Um, I was going to ask... it’s taking me a while to type...” 

“By all means, we may discuss accommodations,” he assures, “I am, as ever, patient. Most importantly, you must take care of yourself.” 

“Sir,” you nod and your door rattles in the frame. “Um...” you glance over your shoulder. Why now? 

“Are you certain this isn’t a bad time?” 

“I’m sorry,” you face the laptop, “I didn’t think--” 

“Hey, you lazy bitch!” A hard rap shakes the door behind you, “get out here.” 

You go wide-eyed and stare at the screen. No. Please. Not again. 

Professor Smith’s brow ripples and his jaw squares, “it seems you’ve got some chaos over there.” 

“It’s just... I... one sec,” you bring the call full screen and search for the controls and hit mute. You stand up and go to the door, trying to block it out with your body. You open it as Lee smirks back at you, “we’re all outta coffee. Why don’t you go and get us some?” 

He holds up a ten dollar bill and flicks it against your nose, “y’ain’t got nothing else to do.” 

“I’m busy,” you say, “can it wait a few minutes?” 

“Busy?” He snips, “with what? You can watch your damn TV when you get back.” 

“Sorry, but I can’t--” 

“Lee, she’ll go in a bit,” your mother preens from down the hall. 

“I got a damn headache, she can drag her ass out right now,” he barks back at her, “it’s my money, ain’t it?” 

“Please, I’m... just after.” 

“Why? Whatcha hiding?” 

“Nothing, it’s school--” 

He shoves the door and you stumble back, hitting the bookshelf with your shoulder. He bulls past you and looks around, his eyes narrowing on your laptop. You turn to see the professor watching intently from his side of the call and you scurry to catch up with Lee and stop him. He elbows you away, tossing you against your bedframe. You hit it and crash to the floor. 

“I see, you entertainin’,” he scoffs and hits the keys several times. 

“Who are you, sir?” Smith asks, his tone cool but dangerous. 

You hear the little blip that signals the mute is off, “should ask ya the same. Whatcha doin’ talkin’ to young girls, eh?” 

“Is she your daughter?” Smith challenges and gets a chortle in return. 

“Nah, just a whore like her mother, ain’t she? You’d know better than me.” 

You get to your knees and grab at his hand, “please, he’s my professor.” 

“Don’t lie to me. Irene,” he spins as he hollers for your mother, “come see what your daughter’s doin’." He pauses to grit over his shoulder, "If ya gonna be whorin’ on the internet, you should at least try to get some money outta it.” 

“Huh, Lee, leave her alone,” your mom appears in the doorway and you crawl past Lee, keeping low as you reach up to keyboard and feel around. 

Professor Smith says your name but you hold the power button until the laptop fan slows and quiets. You sit back on your heels and look over as Lee peers around your room. Your mom sways in the doorway. 

“Who was that?” She asks. 

“I told him, it’s my professor--” 

“You ain’t smart enough for all that book stuff,” Lee growls, “go on and keep lyin’.” 

“Why do you care?” You sniff. 

“Honey, don’t be rude.” 

“Mom,” you whine, “he shouldn’t be in here.” 

“Lee, baby, I’ll go get the coffee,” she redirects. You hang your head. 

“I want her to go,” he turns and throws the ten at you, “the way she leach of ya, it’s the least she can do.” 

You wince, “it’s okay, mom, I can go.” You grab the desk and stand, swiping up the bill. You need to get out of this apartment. Staying will only make him angrier. Staying will only make she shame worse. 

[theaawalker]

I Will [Finnick Odair x Reader]

Pairing: Finnick Odair x Reader Song Inspo: Meet Me At Our Spot by The Anxiety Word Count: 2,713 Series: 1 | 2 | ? Summary: it's been years since Finnick was reaped. He came out victorious, as you'd prayed he would, but then disappeared from the public eye. It wasn't long before the Capital revisited District 4 for its next competitor. Fast-forward, you're the winner of the 75th Hunger Games, and can barely sleep. When the Capitol unveils its next phase for the Games, you're thrusted back into survival as old habits return... as do old friends. Warnings: cuts, use of blades, surveillance, depression, female rage, mentions of prostitution, mentions of murder, making out, mentions of sex Masterlist: see fandoms (pc-friendly)

You've been back for three weeks now. It feels like three years. You are the victor of the 75th Hunger Games. Your life is even worse than it was before your games, which was not meant to be part of the deal. Your entire family was dead. When you refused Snow's offer to make you a prostitute he killed them all. You thought he was bluffing. You thought he was bluffing. You thought he was bluffing. Now, you spend your days perched on your windowsill looking down onto the bottom floor, watching the other victors live. It provides minimal comfort knowing just because your life has taken a giant halt no one else's has. The only time you move from this spot is to go to the bathroom. Your legs are so stiff from minimal movement that you must hang onto the wall to steady yourself. You haven't showered. You've barely eaten, discounting canned foods. You're still in the clothes you wore when you arrived back. The only difference was a massive woolly blanket, providing some warmth in your cold, depressing room.

Someone comes over twice a day. You don't know who it is because you never actually look at them, eyes glued on the window. It's not because you're purposely ignoring them, but because you're lost in your own empty nothingness. And, as hard as you try, you can't fight your way back to reality. Whoever it is delivers your food.

Today was different though.

You hear them come in and remove their shoes. You hear them ramble through the kitchen for omething. After a while, their footsteps come towards you. You feel them put a hand on your slump, left shoulder. This is unusual but the difference is that you feel the urge to see who it is. You want to know who has been taking care of me. You want to know. So you find out.

"Welcome back to Earth, my dear." They say seductively with, face blurred by your unused vision.

"Finnick?" My voice all scratchy from no use.

"Wow," the blonde man said, "way to thank your mentor. But, fawn away, my dear!"

A wipe of the eyes reveals their true identity. A blonde man, indeed, but not yours. You've seen him on television during the 74th Hunger Games, often at the hip of its victors Katniss and Peeta.

"I know you."

"I'd sure hope so." Haymitch chuckles, stepping away to some stuff on your bed, his back to you.

"You... you've been helping me?"

"Of course. I couldn't let a pretty, little trainee like yourself starve, now could I?"

"Train for what?"

Haymitch paused. "You didn't see the news, did you?" You slowly shook your head, clutching your blanket. "Oh, jeez." The older man sighed. He grasped his mouth and stood silently, contemplating his next words. Having found them, he knelt in front of you as if you were a goner. "I'm sorry, kid... you're up next."

[ time skip - an hour later ]

An hour. That's how long Haymitch gave you to have a meltdown. You exploded with the pain, anger, and power of a thousand nukes. You obliterated your room - never careing for it anyways. You would've destroyed the building had physics not failed you. While you finished off your rampage with a primal scream, Haymitch waited outside the door and checked his watch.

Then he knocked. "Uh, kid. Time to go." You flung your door open and glared at him, eyes low and insides dead. "Hope you saved some of that rage for your combat."

The two of you head to the bottom floor. The elevator ride is quiet, and anyone who hops on ogles at you. Your hair sticks to your sweaty face. Your eyes are sunken and baggy. Your adrenaline is falling but you're still shivering. You look like a wild cat in captivity; tired, bitter, and vengeful. But worst of all, trapped.

You get to the ground floor and follow Haymitch to god-knows-where. Passing by training victors and their mentors doesn't faze you. You've played this game before. You won. You weren't confident you'd do it again, you just didn't care.

"Let's test out that fire on a target." Haymitch brought you to an assortment table of knives, spears, swords, and blades. He waved a finger across them. "Take your pick."

You grabbed the mezzaluna knife and peeked at your reflection. Your eyes... you'd be scared of you too.

You used to be so sweet and naive. You cared about others, maybe too much. You were selfless, self-conscious, and spineless. Killing people in an arena will take that from you. In a way, one of those victims was the old you.

'Rest in peace,' you thought.

"O-kaaay." Haymitch side-eyed you. "You ough to warm up before-" Your knife hit the bullseye with a sharp thud. "...Or not."

You threw the knife over, and over, and over until your palm sliced open. By Haymitch's advice, you took a breather and sought bandage. First aid wasn't a priority in the training hall, so you had to wander to find some proper wrappings. You didn't care if looking around made you appear clueness, or crazy, or weak.

A permanent "vacation" didn't sound so bad.

On your search, you saw Katniss Everdeen talking to someone by the rope stand. All you could see was his back and blonde hair. 'Peeta looks taller than on tv.' You thought to yourself.

Katniss looked over his shoulder, straight at you. You nodded, and she nodded back, a semblance of respect established. Her boyfriend watched her stare for a moment before turning around. By then you'd already looked away.

As you think about heading back, something within you begs you to stay. To look again, for whatever reason. Having nothing to lose or gain, you turn your head, which takes a lot of energy, and actually look and see who it is. You nearly faint as it's the person you never expected to see.

Finnick Odair.

He's squinting as if to make sure it's you. Then his eyes widen. At the same time, you both start for each other. The announcement feedback rings out, stopping you and him in your tracks. You step back and idle by, moving eye contact to the cement ground.

"Attention, victors. Let me be the first to welcome you," you didn't care to listen to the rest. All your mind could think about was Finnick. You hadn't seen him in almost 6 years, when he was torn from you and reaped. Just when he'd learned you two shared a soul mark. You pulled your sleeve down to hide it, paranoid a councilperson will see and tie you to Finnick. "but most of all, make your districts proud. Happy training! And may the odds be ever in your favor."

You try not to cry as the speaker ceases. Biting your lip, you peek back at Finnick's spot. His chest rises as he's huffing and staring at you, begging to be reunited. He looks so much older and buffer. His tan only complimented his gorgeousness. You had to have him.

But you couldn't, breaking your gaze. Not without drawing suspicion. So you bury alive your longing, conjure the numb beast born in your Hunger Game, and march over.

"Either of you know where to find wrappings?" You said, indirectly talking to Finnick but looking at Katniss. This was your way of tricking the cameras.

"I wouldn't, no." Katniss replied, scanning your body for the injury.

"I would." The man of your dreams said. Katniss looked at him, but you kept staring at her. "There's a kit cabinet, corner-east of the elevator. Should hold you down till the day's over."

You swallow the frog in your throat. It would be the first time you'd spoken to him since the day you lost him... You'd pictured that very moment countless times. The worst of circumstances had delivered. You couldn't even look into his eyes. Those beautiful, sea-foam eyes. You couldn't feel his eyes on you either. President Snow had control of you both, despite being nowhere nearby. It was no secret that man loved two things: using people as pawns and tearing people apart. You'd die before you let him do that to you and Finnick. Not again.

"And what if..." you cleared your throat, "what if I need another wrapping later on today?"

Finnick got quiet, picking up your breadcrumb. "There's a storage closet on the second floor. End of the hallway on the left. No one goes up there. Shouldn't be any eyes on you."

Eyes being cameras or guards, you understood. "Thanks."

Finnick started to say something else, but you walked away. Had you'd stayed any longer, you surely would've broken character and gotten the two of you killed.

[ time skip - later that night ]

Night fell and you were longing for Finnick's touch. Haymitch had finally fallen asleep, proved by his obnoxious snoring across the hall. You threw off your covers, revealing your blue, silk pajamas, and creaked open the door. Left, no one. Right no one. Empty hall. 'Thank God,' you sighed and tiptoed down it. The elevator button dinged and you jumped. You checked behind you, expecting your mentor or a guard. Empty hall still.

The elevator ride felt slower than usual. You lived on the 8th floor, so the 2nd floor shouldn't have taken that long. Then you remembered, making your face freeze and heart stop. There were cameras in the elevators. You curse yourself but evade looking at it. You should've taken the stairs. You hoped Finnick had.

'Finnick...'

The doors opened on the second floor. You walked out, almost robotically, and turned to the hall's end. 'End of the hallway on the left. Storage closet.' Finnick's words echoed in your head. You repeated it like a mantra as you headed that way. You finally got the storage closet door, no sign of entry. You reached for the handle when a dangerous feeling invaded you. You hadn't seen this man in nearly 6 years. You weren't the same, and perhaps so was he.

What if Finnick was deceiving you? 'No.'

What if guards are waiting behind the door?' No, he'd-'

What if Finnick was working with Snow? 'No, he'd never.'

How could you be sure? 'I'll prove it.'

You threw open the door and dove inside. Had you Finnick not caught you, you would've crashed into him. It was dark and dimly lit by a dying lightbulb. You saw illuminated Finnick's outline - his shape, really - but that was all. Not ideal circumstances, but they'd do.

"Y/N..." He was still holding you by the forearms. "Were you followed?" His voice read as serious, edging on emotionless.

"No." You said, hiding your dismay. For a moment, you regretted not bringing your knife. He had a hold of you, ambushed in a dark, small closet, in the middle of the night, and towered over you like Goliath.

Then a flashlight turned on under you. Once you saw his face, all the fear and paranoia dissolved.

"Good." He said charmingly with a sweet, gentle smile resting on his tan, god-like face. Suddenly he drops his Capitol self and you see another person not Finnick Odair but just Finnick. "I missed you s-"

You hugged him like you've never hugged anyone before. He rocked you side-to-side and you squeezed him tighter. You both chuckle as you break apart and look at each other.

"Gosh, Finn. You look so different." You gawked at his, well, everything.

"So do you, Y/NN." Finnick observed you with a sweet smile of disbelief. "Guess running for your life will do that to you." He joked, making you giggle.

Then it grew quiet as cruel reality set in.

You were both murderers. Both slaves to the Capitol. Both stuck inside a world you hate. Both surrounded by people you don't like. Even if he hadn't said it, his face told you. It had affected him too.

Your hands caress his cheeks as you mutter, "I wish things were different."

"I know what you're going through. I understand. And I felt terrible that I left without telling what," he sighed, "what you meant to me. I couldn't help you during your games because the Capitol wanted me to… take care of other business and Mags helped me a lot when I came home. So I should've looked for you, should've helped you, should've tried, because you deserve it."

You were too exhausted to cry. You contemplated aplogizing for not telling him about the soul mark. It happened so long ago that you couldn't recall if you'd said sorry then. When he was reaped and ripped away from you. So, you changed the subject. "You know why he killed my family, right?"

"Yes. Yes, I know why".

"You're a prostitute?"

"...Yes."

"To protect your family?"

"At first like you I refused then he killed my mother. The only family I had that was blood. Then he threatened to kill Mags. So I did it."

"I thought he was bluffing."

"I did too." Then Finnick's eyes fell to the ground, riddled with shame and uncertainty. "So... you don't mind? That I, uh..." his brows furrowed in angered remembrance, "that I'm... what Snow makes me do?"

You finally muster the courage to kiss him. His lips are salty and oh so plump. They mesh with yours perfectly. He grabs your face and deepens the kiss. You pull away to breath, eyes still closed and smiling. You licks your lips, relishing his citrus taste before being pulled into another kiss. Your heads move as your mouths devour each other. Your hands explore his back, sometimes tugging at his tanktop. He slides his tongue across your teeth, begging for permission. You open your mouth wide and let him slip it inside you. You suck on his long tongue and listen to his moans. As you suck and savor his slippery glossa, the idea of sex claws as you. You didn't want to soil the moment by [redacted]-ing Finnick.

Plus, you didn't have any condoms.

You let go of his tongue, which he rolled back into his smirking mouth. He dove in for another kiss but you caught his chest.

"I don't want to do it right away." You told him. You watched his face of arousal disappear, replaced by calm, and an understanding nod.

"I get it." He tucked your hair behind your ear. "We can stop here if you want."

Tears you resented stung your eyes. You bore into his chest, thoughts distant. "I don't think we can."

"Hey, hey," Finnick lifted your face, "what's wrong?"

"We're both victors, Finnick." You sniffled. "Do you really think they're gonna let two victors win again?"

It was true. Peeta and Katniss had gotten lucky. You and Finnick wouldn't be so, not if the Capitol could help it. The love you had would be destroyed, killed in the 76th Hunger Games. Not just the love between you, but one of you... one of you had to die.

"We'll find a way. Listen, listen to me. We will find a way. There's 59 days till the Games. We'll come up with a way to survive. Hide till it's over, fake our deaths, escape - whatever it takes. O-okay?" He plastered a weak yet hopeful smile. He brought your foreheads together. "I'm not losing you again. We just have to have faith. Okay?"

"We can't-"

"Promise me, Y/N. Please." Finnick begged, speaking and breathing softly. "Promise me you'll have faith in me. In us. Promise you will."

Every fiber of your being ignites. Faith didn't exist in the Hunger Games. Precision. Skill. Wit. Violence. Vigilance. Survival. That's what reigned. That's what would get you through the day. You hated doing it that way, but it had worked in the past. What Finnick was asking you was to basically abandon the protocol. To go against logic and defy the future, pretty much ensuring your demise. Could you trust what he was saying, or were your prior suspicions accurate? Could you use that against him, trick him as well? You just knew this wasn't going to end well, whatever happened. But for now, you'd play pretend.

"I will."

• ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ •

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[unemployedstonerlizard]

--korrasami as parents drabble--

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TW: Mentions of miscarriage, dead parents, body dismorphia, and slight depression. But only slightly! Nothings too bad.

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☆ So this au I'm thinking of is based after a fanfic where Asami got Korra pregnant in the spirit realm, after adoption and sperms donations failed. I'll link it if I can find it, very well written so I highly recommend!

☆ Korra could not be prouder to be a mom. Sure, Asami is gentle and motherly, but Korra is a whole other level of mother. Constantly talking about how great they'll be when they grow up, making a big deal out of everything they do.

"Asami! Asami Senna just threw her toy!"

"...okay?"

"'Sami she threw it so far! She's gonna be so strong!"

☆ In the southern water tibe, they usually name their children after an influential family member in their life. Korra named their daughter after her mother, Senna, and Asami named their son after her mother Yasuko.

☆ They definitely live in the southern water tribe in their first few years, trying to give them a steady upbringing and keeping them away from the prying eyes of the press. Korra and Asami share a room with the babies, all wrapped up in Sabre Tooth Moose Lion furs.

☆ When Korra was deemed pregnant, she wrote a letter to all of the nations leaders, explaining that if they needed assistance with the spirits to contact her. But if there was a political affair or an international struggle to "fucking deal with it themselves". (Asami had to apologize for her verbiage a week later.)

☆ Asami runs things at Sato Industry from home, finalizing and shipping documents and instructions to the people below her. I imagine she's curled in a chair, baby in her lap and her scribbling away on the papers, trying not to get ink on Senna's head.

☆ Since Senna and Yasuko are identical, Korra has a hard time figuring out who is who. Asami seems to be the only person who knows which is which, and Korra has to take a minute.

☆ Korras snuggling game has only intensified with being a mom. She'll use her firebending to heat up her body temp and hold the babies to her chest, all three of them sleeping soundly, such a cute sight for Asami.

☆ Korra almost immediately started working out after giving birth, feeling a little dysphoric seeing her once chiseled body now plump and stretched. Asami has to talk her into loving it, letting her know she's still as strong as she's always been.

☆ Shell kiss up the soft tummy, caressing the stretchmarks under her fingertips. Korras muscular arms wrapped around the pale body on top of her, sighing as the kisses left butterfly's in her stomach.

"Sorry, 'Sami...I'm trying to get them back."

"Hmm? Get what back love?"

"My abs. I knew you liked them."

Asami would coo, leaving another kiss. "Baby, you'll always be perfect to me. You gave birth to our two miracle children. I love you so much, with or without abs."

☆ When the twins sleep, Korra sometimes watches them from above the crib, watching their little chests rising and falling. She gets scared to touch them while their sleeping, and her mind goes to hazy, unpleasant thoughts at the former attempts and her past. She wonders if she'll be a good mom.

☆ Asami wishes she could show her parents their grandchildren, watching Tonraq and Senna play with the babies makes her heart shatter, so much so sometimes she has to leave the room. Being a mother brings her closer to Asamis own, and will wrote letters down in her journal to her mother about the twins.

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This is my first time writing a drabble, I'm not sure how much is too much or too little. Any advice/feedback/comment is welcome!

Also I cannot find that fic for the life of me, I think the author deleted it </3

@whatifitookalilnap

[chaithetics]

Hey! Just an update as my queue is now empty, warning this does talk about some health stuff! (Firstly, masterlist here for navigation)

Tomorrow I'm having a surgery, my second laparoscopy, a mirena insertion and a surgical procedure for bladder endometriosis. I'm pretty nervous but I'm especially nervous as it'll be my first laparoscopy since my lupus diagnosis. One of my organs that has endometriosis is my kidneys, which is also an organ concern for lupus. (Feel free to give movie recs here as I'll probably check some stage over the next few days)

I've had what feels like non-stop lupus flare ups the last year so I'm extremely anxious. I was hoping to finish writing a fic and schedule post some fundraisers etc but that just didn't happen because this weekend but I've been 1) extremely busy with so many things, 2) depressed because of what happened here and 3) really anxious! I haven't been as active on tumblr the last month and like 80% of posts have been scheduled.

I won't be posting for a few days if not weeks and I can't guarantee when I'll be posting or replying to messages. Maybe during this recovery period I'll be able to finish the Shiv Roy x reader, and Kendall Roy x reader Desperate to Please sequel, and start my Nathan Bateman series. So please don't hate me for the wait, I'm sorry! You're more than welcome to send thoughts in, comment or message though!

Please give me movie and show recs too! If you've given me recs in the last few months please feel free to drop them here again to remind me, I've got a notebook to actually write them in and not just do mental lists lol.

Also, if you can please donate to and share some of these campaigns for Palestinians here Vetted Gaza Evacuation Fundraiser List - Google Sheets and follow @gaza-evacuation-funds, @/nabulsi, @/el-shab-hussein, and @/90-ghost!

[fanfiction--anon]

Cabin Visit

Summary: Catcf!Vox pays a long overdue visit to his Alastor. The others are there for moral support.

A/N: Welcome back @hazbinhazbinhazbinreblog we missed you. Glad to see you're doing well. Here's a treat. This is based off of the scene in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (2005) where Charlie and Willy Wonka meet Wonka's father. I know officially it's just supposed to be Catcf Vox and Charlie visiting Alastor according to the plot, but the plot demanded I write the AU Crossovers version and so this is what my brain came up with.

Warnings: None, I think.

Catcf Vox leads the party through the grove of trees. “Just a little further, I promise. His house is here.”

Highschool Alastor stumbles through a spiderweb and freaks out before trying to swat the sticky threads away to no avail. “Are you absolutely sure about that, Mr. Factory Tour? It feels like we're lost.” His Vox calms him down by grabbing him by the shoulders before moving to wipe off the silver residue.

Vox shakes his head. “No. I'm sure. He sent me a letter once, and I sent Vark to keep him company, remember? This is, without a doubt, where he lives.” Not for the first time, he wonders why he let the kids and the Charlies talk him into visiting his husband once the tour was concluded.

He bats away a rather large mosquito buzzing around his screen, and it flies straight into a tree and splatters on impact.

The kids cringe and quickly follow after their parents, or in the Highschoolers’ case, between Radio Guard Alastor and the parental couples.

“Hey,” Highschool Vox says, “what's your Alastor like? You mention him a lot but that was because you wanted to show off your radio room on the tour.”

Vox thinks for a second, about all the times Alastor then smiles. “He was—is my biggest supporter. Even when he was sad about me spending so much time working, he always made sure to check up on me and see if I needed any food or help with building my company. I felt like I had to work hard to make sure that all of Alastor's work as my first supporter wouldn't go to waste. I didn't want my company to fail because I felt like it would let him down.” He frowns as he recalls the long hours he spent in his office or overseeing workers in the late 60s, and seeing Alastor and Vark sparingly. It feels odd that all of that happened about sixty years ago. "I did end up owning the largest ever factory in Hell, but at the cost of my husband."

"That's kind of depressing now that you're saying it out loud," Domestic Vox mutters. "You really couldn't just call him?"

"I hadn't talked to him in weeks remember? I didn't understand why he left at the time and once I realized why he did it would have been awkward to send him a letter asking going like 'Hey Al, I'm sorry for neglecting you for weeks and then not contacting you for another month minus that time where I sent over Vark to keep you company but would you like to come back?' and making things worse between us," Catcf Vox retorts.

"Excuses, excuses," Domestic Alastor sings to him as he pulls his Charlie up before she trips on a tree root. "You two are even worse than Canon and Radio Guard when it comes to communication!"

The two couples from the mentioned universes shift awkwardly at his words.

"Fuck off," Catcf Vox says without any real heat. "We're going to visit him now, aren't we?"

“We had better be close,” Canon Vox grouses, breaking the silence. “I'm getting mud all over my shoes. Your husband is crazy for deciding to live here. Why didn't he divorce you as soon as possible?”

“Shut it Canon,” Catcf Vox snaps. “I don't want to hear anything from the one who can't even get his Alastor to acknowledge him as a past friend—" Canon Alastor flashes a smug grin. "—and we've arrived anyway so stop complaining.”

And as if on cue, the clearing where his Alastor's cabin is comes into view.

“Woah!” Highschool Vox gasps. “It's better looking than I thought it would be.”

“This is just like the movie,” Highschool Alastor mutters at the same time.

It's a nice cabin, if Vox is being honest. The way it's built suggests that it's meant to withstand the test of time and weather. There's even a shed nearby that he guesses is meant to store or cure Alastor's sinner meat. Vox can sense that the bayou’s shore isn't too far off; just close enough that Alastor doesn't have to exert himself when walking there. The only thing missing is Alastor himself. Vox can't feel his radio signal anywhere. He doesn't know when he stopped feeling it. Maybe their connection burnt out when his husband left. But Vox remembers exactly how it felt like. He hopes Alastor isn't hurt or at the mercy of someone else. He looks at the front door.

Catcf Charlie steps up beside him. “You're gonna knock, right? What are you waiting for?”

Vox stares at the cabin, and all the false bravado he's been collecting throughout the trip suddenly melts away and ice runs through his circuits.

He can't do this.

“Actually I think we've got the wrong house,” he manages to wheeze out. “We should probably leave—”

Catcf Charlie catches him by the shoulder as he turns and gives him a smile. “Nice try Mr. Vox, but you're not getting out of this one.” She turns him back around and pushes him towards the door. You're going to be there next to me when I knock on the door and your husband opens it."

She pulls him along with surprising strength and Vox fidgets as she knocks thrice and backs off, leaving him to his own devices as loud barking comes from inside the cabin.

Alastor is about to take a sip of coffee when he hears three knocks on the door. He jumps, having grown used to not expecting visitors at all with only the silence of the bayou and noise from the animals for company. Even Rosie prefers staying within the territory of Cannibal Town or Vox’s factory and only comes to see how he's doing every few months. But her visits are scheduled in advance, and she's never come without notifying him first.

So for this break in routine to be happening, it means there's either an emergency in the more populated regions of Hell, his husband's factory is having a crisis, or someone else other than Rosie is visiting him.

Alastor can say with confidence that there's no emergency in Hell. An hour earlier his shadows returned from surveillance and it's just the usual violence and degeneracy of Hell's citizens happening.

He can also strike his husband's factory being in crisis. Despite what others think, he does keep up with the news about his estranged husband. He can thank his shadow for that, always flitting about within the darkness of his husband's empire. Shadow also makes it a goal to bring back newspapers and other memorabilia whenever Alastor has the desire to see his husband's face, even if it's only on paper.

That only leaves the third option. A stranger at the door.

Alastor has no cameras in his cabin. All he has are the shadows and windows.

He doesn't know who's at the door.

Decades ago he'd turned off his radio waves because he had no use for them. Not when the only other demon who could use them stopped doing so for weeks at a time until they eventually got used to living separately with no communication. Alastor had taken it even further and moved here since he couldn't stand the big empty house with only Husk and Niffty for company. Now he's wondering whether his decision to live “off-the-grid” was a good idea considering how uneasy he feels at the thought of opening the door to what could be a stranger.

Vark, however, shows no such reservations. He leaps up from his position on the rug and bounds up to the door, scratching it and barking loudly and glancing back at him with pleading eyes.

“Vark,” Alastor calls, “calm down. What's gotten into you?”

Vark turns to him, eyes wide and pleading. He does his best impression of puppy dog eyes, and much to Alastor's chagrin, they're extremely effective, just as they were decades ago. He sighs and sets his mug down. He really can't deny his little shark anything.

As he rises from his seat something pings at the back of his mind. Like an old signal, finally breaking through a barrier.

Alastor sucks in a breath through his teeth. Hesitantly, he lets a sliver of static loose.

It zips through the air and immediately curls around a familiar signal that's not his and senses several similar signals within the same space before fizzling out.

Alastor frowns. “That can't be right.” he'd given up on keeping contact with his estranged husband decades ago. There's no reason for him to come all the way down to the bayou just to visit Alastor.

And yet…

Alastor hums to himself, then shakes his head. It's a pipe dream. Just because a part of him wants his husband to be there with him and Vark doesn't mean it will happen.

He grits his teeth.

Years of crying himself to sleep and hugging Vark for comfort have already come and gone. He shouldn't keep feeling sad. It's not logical.

But the feelings of the heart rarely follow the rules of logic.

Vark continues pawing at the door and Alastor chuckles morosely.

“Alright, alright. I'm coming.”

As soon as the door is opened just a smidge, Vark shoots forward and out into the yard.

There's a loud yelp, a shriek of fear, several yells of surprise, and then laughter.

Alastor freezes. That sounds like…

He pushes open the door to see what's going on, and his heart stops beating.

It's not the crowd of demons gathered around in a circle that grabs his attention, no matter how many of them have familiar looks.

It's not the pair of teenagers that are very clearly human instead of citizens of Hell that catch his eye either.

It's not even the fact that some of those guests look like the princess of Hell.

All his attention is focused on something else.

Because there, sitting on his front yard at the bottom of his porch stairs with Vark laying on top of him, is a figure he’s only seen in pictures and newspapers for the past sixty years.

Alastor knows that figure. He'll recognize that demon anywhere. That bright orange vest and green plaid pants, paired with a striped blue tie and topped with a garish magenta blazer.

He looks exactly like he did when Alastor had departed for the cabin in the 60s. He even has his little hat and the microphone staff Alastor had left behind for him.

None of them are looking at him.

His husband is distracted with Vark, and none of the others sense him because, well, his radio waves are off.

It feels surreal, almost like a dream.

But Alastor desperately wants this to be true. He needs to confirm that this is true.

So, making his decision, Alastor takes a step forward, his heeled shoes clacking loudly on the wooden porch.

The sound attracts everyone’s attention to him, but Alastor only has eyes for one other.

The TV demon on the ground stares up at him in surprise with wide eyes, mirroring Vark’s happy look as the shark-dog wiggles in his lap.

Softly, because he fears that if he speaks any louder he'll wake up to find out this was just a dream, Alastor asks, “Vox? Is that you?”

Taglist: @hazbinhazbinhazbinreblog

[leoreadss]

London Memories - A three days story

As my moots and my friends know, I've been in a bad place lately, mentally and physically, and last Friday, I exploded.

Now, after many many hours of conversation and a therapy session, I have experienced what they call a 'depression meltdown'. I'm not going to share the details mostly because I did not recall living through the events of that Friday. Everything went black and when I woke up the next day I found out I had planned, I mean flights, hotel, bus transfer from and to the airport and a theatre ticket, to London.

As my friends know, London is my HEIMAT. I've been there three times this year and yet the last fourth one was not actually planned as I imagined. I have to say tho that I did a great job in organising the three days and the events and everything. Also, it was not the perfect time for a trip but the 'damage' was already done so I decided to, I'd like to say 'embrace the moment and be happy' but, I cried till the day of the departure and when landed in London something happened.

My brain went quiet. I was starting to feel present again, like in the moment. I even put some music on. I hadn't been able to listen to music for at least a week or two before the meltdown. Not even to cope with external sensory issues.

I started to feel like me again. I could finally see myself, in the mirror, with my own eyes, through my crowded thoughts.

I was able to write! I began a story that I'd to see as a picture book.

In the hotel room, I actually find my space, mental and physical, to be me. I was able to take care of some other aspects of my life that I'm finding quite challenging in this period of time.

I took so many walks. The cold air was refreshing and 'cooled' down my brain. I definitively function much better there, that's a fact.

vaya chapa jaja I don't know how to translate that lol

I'd like to share here some happy moments cause WTF I actually saw David Tennant!

First of all the weather! I love gloomy days but this, this was a surprise! A pleasant welcome

The walks. My feet still hurt but I'm so happy!

I don't know if you ever visited this street but knowing that was an inspiration to Wickber Street in the series I understand why the Aziraphale chose this location for its bookshop. It's crowded with all sorts of people from all over the world. You can, and that's what I like to do, sit in a coffee shop and just observe them. Observe life passing by.

This was in Tavistock Square, IYKYK. Here I had a strange encounter with a squirrel. I was taking this picture when turning around I saw a little creature in front of me. We looked into each other eyes and the (silent) conversation was something down the line:

Human (aka me): oh shit! Sorry. Hi little you.

Little creature (aka the squirrel): Uh they so me. Ehm. Act normal.

Human (aka me): *moving to the left*

Little creature (aka the squirrel): *does the same*

Human (aka me): Oh sorry. *is this the most English thing I've ever experienced* *moving to the right*

Little creature (aka the squirrel): Oh shit. Act normal. Maybe I should stop staring at them. *moving to the right*

Human (aka me): Please, after you. *stop moving and gesturing with the hand to let the creature pass by*

Little creature (aka the squirrel): *keeps staring staringly* Ok this was strange. Bye human. *runs*

Human (aka me): That was odd! *walks away but then turns around*

Little creature (aka the squirrel): *does the same*

FIN

and they live happily ever after, I guess lol

This is Hyde Park. Walk kicking the leaves was a child's dream! I felt like a 5 yo. I had a second encounter with a squirrel that thought I had food in my hand but I just wanted to say hi, so they sniffed it and hopped away with their fluffy tail.

I love buses! They're the perfect decompression place for me and an optimal observation deck from which to admire the city. I spot this one outside the Peacock Theatre. I don't know what was it for but the words 'To Our World' came to my mind immediately.

The British Library. This is the place where I can write. This is the place for my stories to come alive, for my pen to dance on the pace, for my thoughts to be free to walk before my eyes and tell me what they want to experience. This is the place in which my brain goes quiet. Entering this place it's like having a wee free man in my head that finally decides that it's time to tidy up the room, organize their books, iron their kilt, rearrange the furniture for better comfort, light the fireplace, make some hot tea, bake some lemon biscuits and singing out of tone Scottish songs. That's how my brain felt there.

If you are wondering, my wee free man's hair is red as hell and up in a messy bun.

THE NIGHT aka Macbeth!

I still can't believe I saw David Tennant!

The play was amazing, from the cast to the minimalist stage, the music, the light. Everything was perfect!

I had the chance to just ramble and say thanks for the autograph!

A little video of the moment he signed my copy and me being absolutely out of my body.

The Harold Pinter Theatre was a special place!

and that's the end. The last pic. A magical place in which, every time, I make a promise to myself, to be present, to hold on to that dream, to be strong and to forgive myself when I'm not, to keep writing, to keep seeking help, to rest when possible and to take good care of the body I'm in.

Till the next adventure!

Bonus content, I guess.

I took this photo and is it me or this hand is the Duke of hell's hand? Hands lovers do with it what you like.

[opticfile]

hi there! i absolutely adore your writing it's so scrumptious !!!!!!!

i was wondering if i could request an alfred x depressed! gn! reader drabble? where reader has just been stuck in a major depressive episode for weeks and yeah, you can take it wherever you'd like. thank you so much! :))

✧ thank you?? for the req?? this is the first one I've gotten and its not for genshin YIPPEEEEE,,,,, also warning my only point of reference for a depressive episode is my own experience so I'm sorry if this doesn't represent what its like completely accurately!! i also didnt want to like be too heavy in "you're so sad rn!!1!!!1! and depressed!!!!1!!111!!!!" so i tried to make it like,,, moreso implied? I'm doing my best here D: also had no clue how to end it LMAO

—✦ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 // insinuations of depression, self loathing, fluff, bathtime teehee, completely sfw

1.7k words

Alfred wiped his feet on the welcome mat in front of your apartment’s door. He transferred a few of the grocery bags from his right hand to his left and fished his keys out of his coat’s pocket, humming gently to himself. The air was humid and chilly; he just wanted to see you but when he walked into your home he did not find the warmth he usually found.

Your apartment was like a warm hug to Alfred. On cool fall days, you’d have a space heater on low in your living room and a candle burning in the kitchen. He would walk in and take a deep deep breath and smile. Your couch was plush and there were countless pillows adorning your bed and no matter where he was sitting he felt encompassed by warmth.  He found comfort in your home, and in your arms.

But today, he did not hear your voice call out for him when his boots hit your crooked rug.

The first thing his eyes found was days-old take-out boxes on your coffee table. He frowned, browline creasing as he suddenly felt this unease in his soul. It wasn’t like you to leave take-out boxes just sitting on your coffee table, especially not for days at a time, and the slight smell of old, possibly rotting, food was only deepening his frown. 

He ventured deeper into your kitchen and was met with dishes piled in the sink and grains of sugar still lingering on your countertops. The kitchen towel that was usually hooked over your oven’s handle had fallen to the mat below it and was piled upon itself. He gently placed the grocery bags in his hand on your floor, turning from the sheer mess in your kitchen to find you. He just wants to see you, he just wants to see you, he just wants to see-

You were curled up in your blankets dead-center on your bed. There were pillows discarded on the floor and clothes sprawled out across it. The corners of your room were collecting dust bunnies that looked as if they were huddling for warmth and shivering in the cold atmosphere of your home. Your phone was held loosely in your hand as your chest rose and fell.

Alfred turned on his heel.

Alfred was always told he knew how to lift someone's mood. He’s been called a golden retriever, a ray of sunshine, cheer incarnate. He’s always been able to make people laugh with any old joke he threw out, and he’s always been able to have a good time no matter what obstacles stood before him. Some people thought his joy and optimism were extreme, too much, annoying, obnoxious. Alfred has always been sunny, but even the weather got cloudy for him, sometimes. 

(and for you it was storming, and he wanted to be your umbrella)

But he was always told he could make anyone smile, and for you? He would give everything to see you smile.

So he grabbed your sponge and pumped it full of dish soap and got to work.

Your eyes were reluctant to open. 

Rain pounded against your bedroom window, your phone buzzed with the sound of a random YouTube video you weren't watching as you removed your hand from it and turned over in your bed. Your legs were tangled in the sheets—the ones you probably should wash soon—and the air was musty. If it weren't for the obvious shuffling you heard in the rest of your apartment you would stay like that and wallow in self-pity.

Your feet hit the cold hardwood and you made a mental note to find your slippers after you figured out who was in your home (you already had an idea of who it was judging from the light humming). You felt the grime and dust beneath your skin and you frowned. You really needed to sweep.

Your door opened with a creek.

You hated seeing the disgusting state of your home, you were ashamed of it frankly. You needed to clean and yet had none of the motivation to do it so you just sat in your dirt and grit your teeth. The smell in the air was heavy and stuffy and only reflected how you felt inside. You had been getting nothing done, no work, no chores, not even your little hobbies you did for fun were bringing the joy they usually did. 

But by far the place you avoided the most was the kitchen. The kitchen was nothing but one big chore. Dishes piled up and stains on your counter and spills down your cabinets were the only things you could see in that disgrace of a room. You didn’t even want to cook, it's not like you even could with the messy state of your stove, either. So the takeout boxes on your coffee table (which were now missing) stood as evidence of your laziness and poor habits and frankly you were sick of yourself can you do anything right-

“Y/n?” An all too familiar voice called out from the kitchen, “Are you awake?”

“Yeah,” You responded, voice groggy and mouth thick.

You rounded the corner to see Alfred drying his hands off with a fresh kitchen towel. Your kitchen was… spotless. Alfred flashed you that bright grin of his, pearly whites lined up perfectly straight, and you let yourself relax a bit as you waddled over to your lover.

You found comfort in Alfred’s smile, in his arms. In that sunny warmth of his that he always carried with him. It felt like the skies were clearing up when he wrapped himself around and nuzzled into your hair, kissing the top of your head and ignoring the fact your hair was a bit greasy and unwashed. Alfred didn't care. That’s why you loved him. Er, that’s not the only reason, but it sure did help that he could hold your hand as you puked your guts out from food poisoning and he would still kiss you after. 

“Hi.” You murmured into his chest as his arms tightened around you.

“Hey, baby,” He laid another kiss on your head, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” 

“Feelin’ ok? A little stormy?” He ran his nails along your scalp and scratched a metaphorical spot that no one else could even find in your soul as you nodded into his chest. “D’ya wanna take a bath?”

“Mhm.” You spoke weakly, eyes filling with tears at the sheer amount of care in his voice as he rubbed your back.

“Hey, look at me,” Alfred pulled back gently, hand now finding your cheek, “No crying, the hero’s here, remember? I’ll save you.”

You frowned. The hero. Alfred always was your knight in shining armor no matter what the issue was. When you got fired Alfred was the one to buy your groceries and pay your bills and help you with your resume. When you got food poisoning from a seafood restaurant he took you on a date to he was the one to buy you medicine and rub your bad when your stomach was killing you from the inside out. And now he’s the one who’s squeezing shampoo into his palms and rubbing it on your scalp while you choke on your own sobs.

He raked his hands through your hair and rubbed circles into your head and down your neck to try and soothe you as you fell apart in his hands and let everything out. It was the kind of breakdown that was snotty and ugly but Alfred still saw nothing but perfection in every part of your face. From the tear droplets caught in your eyelashes to the curve of your nose to the shape of your chin, he saw nothing but the love of his life.

He took the showerhead down and returned to his knees by the tub, water soaking through his jeans and socks as he kneeled next to you to wash your hair. He had you sit up a bit and put his hand on your forehead to shield your eyes from the water as he rinsed the shampoo from your hair and whispered nothing but love. Hiccups bubbled from your ribcage as you came down from the peak of your crying and let your nails scratch your legs, peeling dead skin away in red stripes.

“Feel better?” Alfred slathered some conditioner on your hair. 

“Mhm.” 

“Why didn’t you call me?” He raked his hands through your hair gently, “I would’ve come over sooner.”

“I wanted to, I just forgot.” You frowned, “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, I love you.” Alfred took the shower head and started rinsing out your hair again.

“I love you too, Alfie.”

He grinned at the nickname, heart fluttering against his ribs.

He stood from his place by the tub and stretched out a hand to help you out of the bath, handing you a fresh towel. He took one of your hand towels and draped it over your head, smiling brightly at you as you wrapped the towel around yourself and pulled you into his arms. Your skin was still damp and the air was hot and foggy as he wet his t-shirt with the water dripping from your hair.

The door opened and in flooded crisp, cool air as the steam fluttered out of the bathroom and the smell of a burning candle invaded your senses. 

You rummaged through your dresser and found a t-shirt and pajama pants, pulling them on before making your way into the living room to see Alfred fiddling with your T.V. remote.

“What’d’ya wanna watch?”

“Something funny,” You responded, plopping yourself down onto your couch and laying back on it. 

“Sounds good to me,” Alfred murmured as he crawled into your arms, sprawling himself over you as gently as possible so he wouldn't smother you.

“Do you wanna order takeout?” You ran your hands through his hair as your attention was grabbed by the T.V.

“Sure.” He nuzzled into your neck and finally relaxed in your arms, “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

✧ navigation.

[yelenasdiary]

Different Kind of Love - Part I

Pairing: CEO! MobBoss! Natasha Romanoff x Assistant! Reader (Platonic)

Summary: Working for Natasha was never easy and being a low-level assistant for the CEO wasn’t where you thought you’d be after working your hardest for 2 years. After catching you in tears on Christmas Eve, Natasha cold ways start to warm up.

Dark Themes | Angst | Comfort | Language Warning | Reader is a single mum | Sexual Assault Mentions | Spiking | Mentions of drinking | Mentions of Depression | 3.6K | 

Notes: Dylan’s dialog is meant to sound like how a 5-year-old would talk and his nickname is Dyl and not a misspell. Reader is 26 while Natasha is 38.  

Different Kind of Love Masterlist

"Good morning, Miss Romanova" you smiled softly after knocking on Natasha's office glass door. The redhead looked up and smiled in return for only you to see, "Good morning, did you have a lovely break?" She asked. After Christmas, Natasha gave you two weeks off, paid of course, to enjoy some much needed one on one time with your 5-year-old son, Dylan.

 "It was lovely, thank you so much for everything with Christmas and giving me some time off, it really means a lot to me and Dylan" 

Natasha nodded slightly, "You're very welcome, like I said, you have been working extremely hard and I'm sorry I didn't see that before. Dylan is a great kid and I hope this new position will give you both more time together" she smiled once again, "Now, I'm really sorry but we have a meeting in about 25 minutes about the Davis case. Can you please make sure meeting room 4 is set up and ready?" she asked while putting her reading glasses back on. 

"Of course, Miss Romanova"

Natasha is the CEO and Founder of Romanova Lawyers. Being a lawyer herself, she and her business are one of the most successful businesses in New York City. Natasha has won over 450 cases and is considered one of the highest paid lawyers in the country. Not only does she own a law firm, but she also has another side business that runs through Romanova Lawyers which offers clients to hire Natasha herself or another highly skilled detective to do private detective work. Safe to say, Natasha is a very busy woman with a lot of money. 

It didn't matter what job it was, if you could get a job at Romanova Lawyers, you basically had a golden ticket into the work force. Many other law firms will hire past employees with Romanova Lawyers on their resume simply because you worked there. Getting a past employee of Romanova Lawyers was almost like getting the best football player to play on your team. 

Now that you have a new role at the firm, your work is a lot more interesting than before. You'd follow Natasha from meeting to meeting, taking notes, and making sure the Russian had all the necessary paperwork she needed before court or a meeting. She still would ask you to do some pointless jobs like a coffee run or pick up her dry cleaning, but you didn't mind doing that as much. Her attitude towards you was very different to how she treated the other employees. Her cold ways were still just as strong, she still groaned and raised her voice at people for small mistakes and even though you thought it was very harsh of her, you couldn't help but see this was the way she was able to become the woman she is now. 

"This case is going to be a fucking pain in my arse" Natasha mumbled while walking beside you as she quickly refreshed her memory of the case details, "why are men so stupid?!" she added with a light shake of her head. "Would you like me to record this meeting or just take notes today?" you asked, ignoring her comments that she clearly was saying to herself. "Might have to record this one" she replied before handing you the case file and adjusting her dress before walking into the meeting room with a welcoming smile. "Gentlemen, shall we start?" 

----

After your shift, your new hours being 7 am to 3:30pm you made some last-minute emails and signed off for the day. "I'll see you tomorrow, Miss Romanova, don't forget you have a skype call appointment with a Miss Maximoff at 4:45" you smiled with your head peeking into her office, "oh yes! Thank you for that reminder. Have a lovely night, say hey to Dylan for me" Natasha quickly looked up at you and waved you off. 

"Mommy!" Dylan came running from the living room and wrapping his arms around your legs before you could even kick your shoes off, "Hi honey, how was your day?" you asked with a smile on your lips as you placed your handbag on the floor. "It was good, but my fire truck needs more batteries and Kate don't know where you put them" he looked up at you with his big blue eyes and curly dark hair, "Do you want to go and get your truck for me?" you ruffed his curls before he took off back into the living room. 

"Hey there Miss Moore" Kate smiled while wiping down your kitchen countertop, "Kate, we've been through this" you shook your head playfully, "call me Y/n" you added. "I forgot, I'm so sorry" she replied, "Dylan just had his afternoon snack, he had half a banana and a small bowl of yoghurt so he should be fine until dinner" Kate explained, "oh and his fire truck Santa got him for Christmas needs new batteries, but I wasn't sure where you kept them" 

"Thank you so much for today. I usually keep them in my room, so I'll get some for him. I'll just go and get your money" 

"Here's my truck mommy" Dylan returned with his fire truck in his hands, "Thank you honey, I'll go get some new batteries right now can you do me a favour and get mommy's purse from her handbag please?" you kindly took his toy from his small hands, "sure mommy" Dylan smiled and raced off to get your purse. "God he's adorable" you heard Kate speak to herself, "You're not here when the word No is used" you joked before walking down the hall to your room. 

After dinner and Dylan was in bed you were doing your nightly routine of catching up on emails for work, looking at school for Dylan to start in September and now with the extra money you're making, you were considering putting him into pre-school. Being 5 years-old and barely having any friends and not having the time to do pick up and drop off you were excited for your son to finally make some friends and start learning new things every day that would blow his mind. 

*Buzz Buzz*

A smile tugged at your lips when reading the message. Christmas was different but lovely to spend with Natasha, you learnt so much about her and saw a side of her that you wished the entire office was able to see. The way she kicked off her heels and got on her knees to play with Dylan and his trucks, the way she sat with him and helped him read one of the books 'Santa' had gotten him but mostly what stood out to you was the way she spoke to you, the way she opened up to you and shared things about her life that honestly took you by surprise. 

——

The next morning you walked into the office already hearing the raised voice of an annoyed Russian. "Candice, do you think I give a crap about your husbands broke foot?! I asked for these documents to be done before today!" She slammed the file onto her desk. "I'm sorry Miss Romanova, I was doing them last night, but I ran out of time, I'm really sorry" the lovely woman who couldn't even hurt a fly or even yell at one for that matter replied. "News flash Candice, we're going to be late because of this!" Natasha spat back grabbing a pen from her pen holder. "Candice, why don't you go back to your desk, I'll take care of this" you whispered standing behind the woman, giving her an apologetic smile when she saw you, "Thank you" she mouthed.

Natasha frustratingly scribbled down words onto the unfinished documents with a huff and puff, "Miss Romanova, I'll finish those, you have to get ready for the Davis case in court today" you offered as you walked into her office. "No! These should have been done yesterday! How are things supposed to ever get done when people don't listen?!" She snapped, nothing unusual for you. "I'll have them done within the hour; I promise"

"Fine" Natasha sighed, placing her pen on top of the small pile of documents and grabbed her coat from behind her chair and her brief case from the side of her desk. She wore her hair up and a black suit with a red shirt underneath. "I can't be dealing with people's mistakes today. Do you hear me?!" She looked up at you, "Yes, Miss Romanova" you nodded before she brushed by you, storming out of the office. 

Everybody was on edge today whenever Natasha was around, after yet another case won, you'd think she would be happy but the look on her face when she looked up at you spoke other words. "Cancel all my remaining appointments and meetings today. I have some things to take care of for the rest of the day" she huffed, unloading her briefcase, "But Miss Romanova, the Maximoff case is marked urgent" you reminded her. "Well, you fucking deal with it!" Her eyes shot up at you full of rage which worried you as you'd never seen her like this before, "Just cancel or move whatever the fuck I have left today and don't let anybody contact me!" she added as she grabbed her keys and handbag from the bottom drawer of her desk. 

"Yes ma'am" you replied watching her walk out of the office. 

It wasn't until Saturday that you'd see her again. The rest of the week you had to postpone and move her meetings to a time that you only hoped would work better for her. You wanted to message her and ask if she was okay and ask when she'd be back into the office but decided to give her space. 

A knock at your apartment door made little Dylan jump with excitement, "I'll get it!" He called from his room. "No, you won't honey, we spoke about this!" you hollaed back already having your hand on the door handle and pulling it open. "Miss Roma- I mean, Natasha, Hi" you smiled even though you were shocked to see her at your door. "Hey, are you guys ready? We don't want to be late" she asked with a small smile of her own. 

"Miss Romanova!!!" Dylan came running down the hall with a wide smile. "Hey there kiddo!" Nat kneeled down to his level, "Are you ready?" she asked him. Dylan nodded, "will there be other kids?" your son asked with a hint of hope to finally be able to play with other children. He's always been so good at making new friends no matter how old they were, walking down the mall Dylan would always say hello to strangers. As nice as it was, it worried you that he was so open to talking to people he didn't know. 

"There's going to be plenty of other children for you to meet and play with, are you excited?" 

"Yes! Mommy said I can start pre-school this year" Dylan boosted with excitement, "That sounds very exciting" Natasha smiled softly at the young boy, "we should get going" she looked up at you. "I'll just get my handbag" you replied. 

----

"Isn't he a bit late for pre-school?" Natasha asked while Dylan was busy playing on his tablet, the car ride would be an hour long and for an excited young boy, that was like years. "Only by a year, I wanted to put him in last year but uh," you paused and looked away from your boss, "it was just my work hours, I wouldn't have been free for pick up and drop off, so it was just easier to get a sitter", you didn't want to talk about Dylan's pre-school admission, you wanted to ask her where she'd been, is she was okay but did you even have a place to say anything?

"I had some family things to deal with. I'm sorry I didn't contact you; I was confident you were able to step up and take charge while I was gone" Natasha spoke, seeing the way you looked at her, screaming your questions to her without saying a word. "You don't have to explain anything, I was able to move things to next week and the Maximoff case we decided to wait until you came back. I'm not a lawyer and I never went to law school so I wasn't sure what to do" you explained, your palms starting to sweat hoping she wouldn't cuss at you in front of Dylan but instead she nodded, "thank you, I'm sorry it was sprung on you like that" 

"It's okay, family always has to come first" you gave her an assuring smile, "you're right, it does" Natasha replied with her eyes shifting to Dylan. 

Arriving at the party, you were introduced to Natasha's best friend, Clint Barton and his family, Laura his wife and their children, Copper, Lila and Nathaniel. It was Nathaniel's birthday party and just as Natasha mentioned, there were plenty of other children for Dylan to mix with. 

"Hi, I'm Dylan" he smiled at Nathaniel, "Hey, do you want to join me and my friends in a nerf gun fight?" Nathaniel offered. "What's that?" Dylan asked picking at the hem of his shirt nervously, "it's just a toy gun fight, with these soft bullets they won't hurt and if you want you can wear my old armour vest" Nathaniel offered with a smile. Dylan looked up at you, his eyes full of excitement but he always made sure his mommy said yes before taking off with anybody, especially somebody he just met. "Go on, baby, go have some fun" you smiled and before you could blink, Dylan was running off with this new friend. 

"So, how long have you been working for Natasha?" Laura asked sipping her iced tea. "3 years in June actually. It's gone by pretty quickly, but I've enjoyed it for the most part" you replied forgetting any of the bad. "She's not tough on you, is she? I know she can be a little bossy" Laura chuckled, "oh no, never" you said sarcastically, chuckling with her. 

For the first time since Dylan was born, you found yourself enjoying the company of other mothers and fathers, people who knew exactly what you were talking about and even shared stories of how their children were when they were younger, funny stories, happy and the normal yuck stories of eating dog biscuits or having poop smeared up their backs. Natasha kept her eye on Dylan even though she knew he was more than safe, she loved watching him run around with her best friend's children with the wide smile that she felt was starting to light a fire in her cold heart. 

Every now and then she helped herself to a quick glance at you as you smiled and laughed with the other parents. The need to protect you came to mind as she sat back and thought about the past 2 years, she's known you. "Nat!" Dylan came running up to the redhead, breaking her thoughts. "What's up kid?" she smiled, "could you please tie my shoes?" he asked kindly, "I can't find mommy" he adds while looking around for you. Natasha nodded and kneeled to tie his light up shoes that Natasha got him for Christmas as a gift from Santa, "Your mommy is just over there" she pointed in your direction. "Thank you, Nat" Dylan smiles and gives her a quick hug, taking her by surprise as she slowly wraps her arms around the small boy and smiles softly at his kindness before he's rushing off to ask you for a drink. 

----

"Thank you so much for today, I had a lovely time and I think Dylan did too" you smiled at Natasha while running your fingers through Dylan's hair as he was snuggled into you fast asleep. "He really enjoyed himself" Natasha watched the scene in front of her, the limo giving plenty of room for you all to get comfortable. 

"He's really excited to start pre-school; I think today was really good for him"

"He told me all about it, you've done and still doing a great job raising him" Natasha complimented as she made eye contact with you. "It hasn't been easy but" you paused as your eyes dropped to your sleeping son, you smiled softly, "he deserves everything I can give him and more" your eyes traveled back to Natasha. There was a moment of silence between the two, you could see Natasha was wanting to ask the question everybody wants to ask, who's Dylan's father? 

"You can ask" you spoke. 

"Ask what?" Natasha frowned slightly.

 "You have that look in your eyes, the one everybody has when they want to know more about Dylan's father"

"You already told me, he couldn't afford to help" Natasha replied, you shook your head, "I lied" you admitted, licking your lips as your eyes fell to Natasha's feet. "What's the story?" she asked as if she didn't have a care for your emotions but looking back in her eyes, who was she to tell? You took a deep breath and made sure Dylan was still fast asleep before gently placing a kiss on the top of his head. 

"He was possessive. When I first met him, he was lovely and so kind you know…he never failed to make you smile or laugh, I considered him a good friend. One of his friends was throwing a party and my parents were fine with me going as long as I wasn't back too late, I was almost 21 and they trusted me. I got to the party and started having a few drinks with my friends. Then later on my friends were heading home but he convinced me to stay for an hour or two, so I did.

I knew better than to get drunk like he was, I had two drinks with him and I was out of my mind. I told him no and that I wanted to go home.." you paused as tears filled your eyes, "all I remember after he pushed me onto the bed was him saying I'd been asking for it all night…3 weeks later I find out I'm pregnant. It took me months to find out who assaulted me that night and when I told him I was pregnant he just laughed at me and said the baby could be his or one of his two friends and that I'd never know because I was too drunk and wasted to remember asking for it" 

Natasha's jaw clenched at the details you shared with her. "But if you were ever saw him, you can see that he's Dylan's father, there's no doubting it" you added, tears streaming down your cheeks. "He needs to help responsible for this" Natasha leaned forward and gently took your hand into hers, "I tried. I went to the police before I found out I was pregnant, and they turned me around and told me to come back when I had hard evidence" you explained.

"But you were pregnant, that's more than enough evidence. They could've done a DNA test"

"Natasha, by the time I processed everything and told my parents…I didn't want people to see me…I hid myself away for most of my pregnancy and after the police turning me away like they did, I didn't think they would believe me. 

"I'm so sorry, Y/n" she wiped your tears and looked deeply into your eyes, "That little boy is so lucky to have you as his mother. You got a fucking amazing job with him, you give him everything a mother could give a child and I have a hell of a lot of respect for you. Thank you for sharing all of that with me"

"Like I said, it hasn't been easy but every morning when I wake up and I get to see his beautiful smile and those big blue eyes he makes me forget all the horror and I only see the good. He saved my life, if I had apported him, I don't know what I would've done" you replied trying your best to keep from crying more. Natasha's soft hands gave yours a gently squeeze, "if you need anything and I mean anything, you come to me. Okay?" she kept strong eye contact with you, "I mean it, I don't care what time you need me, if you and Dylan need me, I will be there" she assured you as you nodded slowly, "thank you Natasha" you replied. 

----

Natasha carried Dylan up to his room for you as you grabbed his backpack full of toys, she gently placed him in his bed and pulled the covers over him before giving him a secret kiss on the forehead, "sleep well kid" she smiled before leaving his room. 

"Thank you so much again for today and tonight, I'm so sorry I was unprofessional and sharing my personal life like that" you looked at her as you placed your belongings on the countertop. "You're not the only one with secrets, maybe another time we can share a bottle of wine and I can share mine" she offered. "That sounds nice" you smiled softly, "Well, I guess I'll see you Wednesday morning" Natasha replied. 

"Wednesday?" 

"Yeah, take Monday and Tuesday as an extended weekend" she playfully winked before heading for the door, "thank you" you said once more. "Y/n, thank me one more time and I'll fire you" Natasha chuckled, "Oh, I'm sorry, boss" you smirked, "goodnight" she shook her head before closing your apartment door.

Taglist:

[kavehnanginto]

so what?— alhaitham

cw: insecurities, binge eating, depression, comfort, weight gain, angst, body dysmorphia… please tell if I need more to add

wc: 600+ (kinda short)

synopsis: after a depressing turn of events you turn to eating and your body reacts to this change and as you put on more weight and saw the changes it shattered your self-esteem as if it hadn’t already reached rock bottom… good thing there was someone there to tell you how fucking bullshit your mind is remind you are the most beautiful thing in the world.

The week went terribly. Now all alone in the bed munching on hot pots, with no clue in the world. But when you saw the clock you shot yourself to dress formally as Alhaitham offered to take you out. He had known about all this isolation, going in your place everyday and talking even if it felt like he was talking to himself. He always brought your favorite snacks, left untouched, not until he left. You never wanted him to see you that way, a monster—hideous and ugly when you were eating and maybe even when you weren’t.

As you finally zipped your outfit, it felt like you couldn't breathe. Once your favorite turned into something you barely fit in you can’t help but remember how you came to this. You should’ve starved that pain away! But now you have become this big monster that even Alhaitham will be disgusted at. Time passed and you were now wet with tears, you didn't know you still had some, completely defeated with yourself.

He was worried.

Extremely.

With your situation he can’t take it to open the door and trespass inside your house. Screaming your name and no reply, he feared the worst. He searched everywhere to find you, every corner, every hiding spot. Somewhere… you…

“Please be here…” he knew he was met with nothing but an echo, but he still pleaded. “I’ll do anything, please.”

He was not one for words, if the scholars he worked with heard of this they would be beyond flabbergasted. But he loved you, his system built with all that logic caged a heart full of love. You were his everything. He gave you time to isolate and heal, afraid that his words may hurt you, may worsen your state. He regretted it, he should have been there with his eye on you all the time. None of this could’ve ever happened if he was always with you.

All thought became meaningless when he heard soft sobs upstairs. His thoughts ran with him, and it too was scared and desperate.

Relief washed over him when he saw you in one piece. He forgot about everything when all he saw was sadness in your eyes. He kneeled before you caressed your cheek. You dare not resist the heat of his palm, it was welcomed.

“I’m so sorry for everything,” he begged. “I'm here love, please rely on me.”

Ruled by emotion you embraced him tightly, feeling comfort your body begged to have for days. He soothed you, kissed you and made you feel safe. You were scared with nothing but your own self, but feeling this love you can’t help but be tranquil. You can’t explain your current state, but when he noticed that confining dress he liked to see you in. He knew.

“I'm a monster,” you broke the silence. “I can’t just hate myself, in this form I despise it—”

He shut your mouth with a kiss. You are beautiful. He knows how you look from every angle: a masterpiece. Kusanali herself carved your face and molded your body. And here you were crying for not fitting these useless clothes?!? He told you such and it made you laugh to see his anger.

“So what if you gained weight, it won't change that angel like beauty you always had, and that shall forever remain.” he solemnly reminded you.

You buried your face in his neck as he kissed the side of your head, arms on your back.

“Ya Hayati,” he cooed. “Let’s get out of this dump and buy you nice clothes.”

You nodded with your plump cheeks that Alhaitham can never dare refuse.

Maybe if you used his eyes as your mirror, you would see how beautiful you truly are.

I still hate my writing, this is short btw because i just thought of it.

Ya Hayati = my life

[chihoshisai]

♡ Perona's Diary ♡ ch1

Goth Family (Perona, Zoro, Mihawk)

cw: found family, light-hearted, comedy, fluff, chaos / wc : 2,466K / Other : you are welcome to send requests for this fic ! It is also on ao3 if you prefer reading there I'm having quite some fun writing about these three and i hope you enjoy !

Sober Bet

With dim candles lighting her room, Perona looked down at her journal. She sighed in annoyance, having finally written down the last events of a bet with no winner. A bet she started four days ago on a whim.  

That night at diner, Perona squinted her eyes towards Zoro. Ignoring his table manners, she instead took notice of the unreasonable amount of sake he was consuming. 

It was a regular occurrence during meals, and like many things Mihawk didn’t seem to mind – as his reserve of wine wasn’t a target – alcohol was cheap and quite easy to acquire, unlike his fine imported liquor. It was a normal dinner, really, except a thought crossed Perona’s mind. 

“How do you expect to train properly if you drink that much?” she raised an eyebrow towards Zoro. It had been a few days since the newly arrived housemate’s training began, yet he showed no sign of slowing down on alcohol. 

“That’s none of your business is it?” Zoro lowered his glass just enough to return an annoyed look. 

“Of course it is!” Perona slammed her fists on the table, owning her a look from Mihawk, and giving an apologetic one as an excuse. “If you get hurt because you’re hungover, I’m the one who’ll have to treat you!” Her tone dropped in anger. 

“Then you’re in luck, I never get drunk,” Zoro grinned before gulping the rest of his drink.

It irked Perona, “that’s what all alcoholics say,” she rolled her eyes, taking a bite of her food. “I’m sure you’re incapable of staying sober.” She shrugged. 

“Of course I can!” Zoro placed his glass on the table and stared defiantly at Perona, who sat across her. 

“Oh ?” She grinned back at him, “then let’s say a week. No drinks allowed. Not mixed with juice, or anything else for that matter.” 

“I would never mix my sake with juice!” Zoro said, baffled. It sounded like a blasphemy. 

“Urgh, I don’t care how you like your drinks,” Perona gritted her teeth, “do we have a deal or not?” She extended a hand across the table.

“Yeah,” Zoro promptly accepted the handshake, “you better leave me alone and not complain about my drinking after this.”  

“We’ll see,” she gave him a devilish smile, “in the eventuality you cheat I’ll hit you with my ghosts.” And as a way to further prove her point, she made one of her spirits run through his chest, leaving Zoro completely depressed.

“I’m sorry I can’t make myself more useful,” he whispered. Perona laughed gaudily at the sight, unaware of the second look from Mihawk she caused to come her way.

“Please do refrain from using your powers at the table,” he said in a calm tone.

“Jeez you’re no fun,” she gave him a pout. “You have to help me and make sure this guy doesn’t drink for a week.” 

“Well I guess I can do that much,” Mihawk directed his gaze towards the still sulking swordsman, who kept mumbling incomprehensible things. He grabbed his glass of wine, feeling somewhat bad for the guy, before bringing the tip to his lips. 

“This is gonna be so fun!” Perona said in a sing song high pitched voice. She knew exactly what she had to do.

After dinner, whilst Zoro and Mihawk busied themselves with the dishes, she quickly went unnoticed in the castle’s cellar and emptied it. Well not entirely. Leaving nothing but Mihawk’s wine, she made sure to not even accidentally brush the bottles, knowing damn well the warlord would notice. His wine was off limit. She did not want an earful. 

With discretion, she purposefully hid the bottles in her room. Like that, if Zoro was desperate enough, he’d have to manage to sneak his way in, only to be caught red handed. Perona laughed at the plan she devised, before having an inkling of the swordsman's thoughts and deciding to beat him at his own game.

That night, she stayed awake, carefully listening for any footsteps from the hallway. With faint candlelight illuminating her room, Perona kept herself busy with her Kumacy plush, fighting the urge to sleep, as the time neared 3 am. It wasn’t until then that she finally heard what she stayed awake for. Her prediction had proven correct. 

“Just you wait,” she promptly floated herself to the door and into the hall. Simpletons like him were so easy to predict. 

Without even trying to follow the figure, she knew the destination of the footsteps, as she flew lower and lower down the castle’s stairs to arrive near the cellar. With a grin, Perona kept herself hidden, until the moment Zoro would find his way here. Which in all consideration took a while. In fact, it took so long she began second guessing whether he wasn’t heading somewhere else – to do something like late night practice. But the thoughts got quickly interrupted by the sound of footsteps descending the stairway. She watched Zoro open the door without even bothering to check his surroundings.

“Look at you, so sure of yourself that no one is following” Perona whispered to herself, with a silent laugh. 

Zoro disappeared in the room and Perona waited until he exclaimed in surprise before appearing in the doorframe. 

“There’s no sake?!” Both of Zoro’s eyes and mouth grew. He turned around in alarm, the second he heard the voice behind him.

“That’s right,” Perona had her hands on her waist, visibly proud of herself, “I got rid of it.” 

“You what?” Zoro couldn’t believe what he just heard. 

“No need to thank me for making it easier for you, cheater.” She said that last word with a grave tone. 

“Cheater?” Zoro scoffed, “I was looking for the toilet.” He crossed his arms. 

“Give me a break! The toilet is right next to your room!” Perona pointed a finger at him, feet stomping. “I know you didn’t just end up here by mistake.” 

“Whatever, what have you done with the alcohol?” Zoro gave her an impatient look. Surely she wouldn’t be foolish enough to waste that huge amount of liquor just because of a bet.

“Hmph, it's up in my room,” Perona gave him a satisfied smile, “but I’m not giving it to you even if you beg.” She swiftly floated next to him and teasingly poked his arm. “But if you’re that desperate, you’re free to have a taste of Mihawk’s wine.” She laughed, pointing in the direction of the finely stored bottles.

A shiver ran down Zoro’s back. He too knew. Mihawk’s wine was off limits. He did not want an earful.

“I don’t like wine.” He could swear the bottles looked somewhat ominous. “It’s something fancy people like that Cook like to drink.” For a split second, a slight wave of longing crossed Zoro’s at the mention of one of his crew members. Quick on the uptake, Perona wasted no time to take notice of it, but paid it no mind. 

“Right, and you’re far too distasteful for that,” she teased. 

“Shut up,” Zoro groaned. 

Annoyed, she floated in front of him and planted her finger on his chest, “you’re the one who decided to come down here to steal booze despite making a bet of not drinking any for a week!” She hurled the words at Zoro.  

“All I wanted to do was take one last look–” he began, eyes darting away. 

“Don’t try to play dumb with me!” She pressed her finger against his chest harder. 

Zoro said nothing. It was too humiliating being caught red handed.

“Cheater,” Perona whispered. Seeing as he persisted in saying nothing, she flew to the side and pointed towards the door, “now, go on to sleep. I’ll walk you back”  

“Don’t treat me like some kid,” Zoro said, yet he still walked towards the door per her instruction. 

“Then don’t get lost like one!” She followed behind, still floating. 

Sure of himself, Zoro took the wrong turn as soon as they came up the stairs, resulting in Perona grabbing him by the collar. “I’m tired, so I’ll drag you all the way to your room.” Giving instructions to a pirate with no sense of direction required too much energy. 

“Woah, hey!” Zoro tried to swat her hand away.

“Just bear with it!” She gripped the back of his shirt tighter. “Unless you want me to hit you with my powers!” The usual two or three ghosts who kept her company, loomed over Zoro. 

He gulped, “alright fine.” And with much reluctance he let himself be led to his room. 

“Listen,” Perona stood in front of his door with a warning look, “I’ll turn a blind eye to tonight, but you better not try and drink anything, are we clear?” 

“I get it so just go to sleep already,” Zoro yawned. It wasn’t until she gave him a last look that she left, curls flowing at her back to get her well deserved sleep.

-----

Day 1 — No attempts were made by Zoro whatsoever to try and infiltrate Perona’s room. Neither did he complain throughout meals about the lack of alcohol. His training was the same as ever too. The day went on as usual, leaving Perona to feel like a fool for safeguarding the liquor most of the day. 

Day 2 — Zoro’s normal behavior was probably due to how close his last drink was. At least that’s what Perona told herself, as she floated next to him for most of the day. He was now sober for 24h and yet showed no sign of withdrawal syndromes. Maybe he wasn’t an alcoholic after all. 

Day 3 — Zoro increased the time of his training, which didn’t trouble Mihawk, and still not a single complaint had escaped him. Perona had been waiting for the slightest opportunity to tease him, make his life harder and remind him of the bet he had taken. Yet as she looked at him training harder than the day before, she found her opinion of him getting slightly better. 

Day 4 —  Still nothing. If not for the increasing hours of training. It wasn’t until dinner time that Perona finally found a way to nag at him. 

“You’re staring,” she said matter of factly. Zoro had in fact been staring at Mihawk’s wine glass for a while now. His being filled with the usual tasteless water. He refused when offered juice, saying it would be no good for his body. As if alcohol wasn’t worse. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he turned his gaze back to his plate. Mihawk had raised his eye to look at the scene but remained silent. 

“You poor thing, don’t start wavering now.” She filled the room with her usual hollow laugh.

“Don’t pity me!” Zoro spit back.

Day 5 — Perona sat nearby, as she watched Zoro train for what seemed like the whole day. 

“Doesn’t he have nothing better to do?” she said to herself, “it's like all he does is train. And he’s so serious at it it’s not like I can bother him… or go see the other swordsman, as this one might try something.” She sighed, bored. These past days had truly been dull. 

Mihawk appeared from behind Perona, but she felt too lethargic to even glance in his direction. 

“You here to train him again?” She said emotionlessly. 

Mihawk took a few seconds to reply, “No.” 

“Mmh,” her voice trailed. She had no will to further encourage a conversation. The swing of Zoro’s sword in the wind along with his occasional grunts echoed through the silence. After a brief moment, in which Perona felt her eyelids become heavier, Mihawk made his way towards Zoro, and the latter instinctively stopped all movement. The surprising change of dynamic, grasped Perona’s attention, didn’t you just say you weren’t gonna train him, she thought to herself. 

Being close enough to earshot, Mihawk blandly said, “you’re training too much. That’ll do you more harm than good.”

“Even if I trained for a whole day it still wouldn’t be enough,” Zoro stubbornly replied. 

“Training for a whole day? That’s all you’ve been doing these past few days,” Perona complained, yawning from afar. 

“There is uneasiness in your swings,” Mihawk continued his speech, “All things considered you’ve done well so far.” 

“I don’t like the sound of that,” Zoro sheathed his swords, and looked at Mihawk with uncertainty. 

“But you can’t afford to slow your progress any more than this,” Mihawk gave him an astute look, before turning his back to Zoro, “Wait here, I’ll be back.” And without delay he made his way to the inside of the castle.

“What’s with him?” Zoro asked Perona.

“How should I know? Maybe you’re in trouble?” She shrugged. 

“I haven’t done anything that could make him mad.” Zoro wiped his forehead sweat with the back of his hand. “Not that I’ve ever seen him mad.” He added.

“Me neither.”

They exchanged a look. Has Mihawk ever been mad?

Almost as soon as he left, he returned with a bottle full of sake. Perona jumped to her feet. 

“Where did you get that?!” She exclaimed.

“Sorry, I went and entered your room without asking,” he simply stared at her dumbfounded expression, face still stoic before heading towards Zoro.

He knew. 

Of course he knew!

Perona went and grabbed the warlord's arm, “wait! Zoro’s not supposed to drink! It hasn’t been a week yet!” She tried to pull him away. “Don’t interfere!” 

“Even so, he needs it or his training will be further impacted.” Mihawk made no attempt to push Perona away. He simply continued walking, half dragging the ghost girl who started floating along the way. 

“What?” She frowned, “How are his training and alcohol related?” She refused to let go. 

“That’s the way he copes,” Mihawk simply said. 

Perona raised an eyebrow towards Zoro, “so that’s why you’ve been doing nothing but aimlessly swing your sword?”

“Or what? Was I supposed to walk into your room filled with those ghosts, get run over and make you have a good laugh out of it?” Zoro groaned.

So he knew about the ghosts she set as a trap. Perona’s eyes widened as she wondered when and how he had gotten a look at her room. 

“I’m not giving you a reason to make fun of me,” Zoro added.

“Hmph, if that’s how it is then I’ll find another way” She distanced herself from Mihawk who was finally close enough to give the drink to Zoro. 

“Thanks, for saving me from this woman’s stupid scheme.” He gave a light smirk towards the warlord who nodded in response. 

“It wasn’t stupid! In fact it proved that you’re nothing but a stupid alcoholic!” She fumed, her cutesy voice gone. 

“I already knew that a long time ago,” Zoro said, before drinking.  

Chapter 2

[pascalscoffin]

Tentaciones Sáficas

-Sapphic Temptations-

Full Pedro Masterlist

Warning: Minors Go Away I Will Kick You In The Forehead. This is… literally just porn. Reader is female and uses she/her pronouns. Reader is a lesbian. Reader is described as having an “athletic body” and is hc’d to go to the gym (do with that what you will), and tattoos (above as well as patchwork on her forearms and hands). Reader and Louis are friends NOT in a relationship. Fat ass crush on Claudia though you’re welcome. Claudia is a liiiittle bit ooc, sorry. Readers nickname is 'Bee'. Smut: Vaginal fingering; oral (f receiving); Strap-on use; Claudia is such a little bottom I'm not sorry, I just like the idea of her being super mean but like... falling apart when someone's got their hand between her thighs; a little lickin', a little bitin'. Reader understands Spanish but only says a couple Spanish words (I think).

><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

You met Louis Flores your sophomore year of college when you were somehow put in the same dorm room together, you’d stuck it out for a few weeks before everything was straightened up, but you and Louis kept in touch and often hung out between classes.

Now- Louis was a nice boy, and relatively handsome. But there were absolutely no romantic feelings between the two of you, considering you were a raging lesbian who often had a different girl in her bed every night. He was a good friend, stable and straight laced enough he made sure you didn’t go crazy with your exploits, and being a shoulder for you to cry on. You on the other hand, you made sure Louis didn’t waste his life hunched over a book or his laptop studying, and when he needed it you were there for him.

Junior year was when you decided to get an apartment together. That was also when you finally met his mother, Claudia. You’d gone out partying the night before so you slept until about noon, stumbling out of your room in nothing but a tshirt and panties, met with the sight of Louis being smothered in a hug by a woman with a pink cardigan.

At first, Claudia had assumed the two of you were dating and had immediately gone into a tangent about you not wearing any clothes to meet your boyfriend’s mother, cursing you in Spanish. Louis- poor sweet Louis had panicked, frantically explaining to his mother that you weren’t who she thought you were. That he wasn’t your type.

Of course, Claudia was still extremely displeased with your state of undress, and when you came back from your room, now wearing a pair of sweatpants she’d bombarded you. “What does he mean he is not your type? What is wrong with my son? You would be lucky to have him.” You’d suppressed the urge to laugh directly in her face before you explained yourself.

Her face had turned 100 shades of red when you told her that while Louis was a sweet and kind boy, you yourself were a lesbian, and that he was a bit out of your age range. Naturally, she hadn’t quite understood and when she started to go on another rave about how fantastic her son was, you told her you weren’t interested in people your own age.

While she was processing that information, her face bright red and her eyes wide, you’d looked her up and down, smirked a little, and then stepped away from her to grab a water from the fridge.

><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

It didn’t take long for Claudia to warm up to you, especially when she realized she had another person to talk shit with about Louis’ many girlfriends he would bring home to her. Which isn’t to say you hated any of them, they got Louis help for his depression and ADD, conditions Claudia insisted he didn’t have, but each of them had.. less than redeeming qualities and you and Claudia had made a habit of pointing them out, sometimes in front of the girlfriends, and sometimes alone.

The first time the two of you hung out alone had been a few weeks after you met. You’d been at the door, the woman from the night before smiling and cupping your cheek as you’d said goodbye. She was around Claudia’s age, not quite at that mark but not far from it either. Your arm had been around her back, lips locked with hers before you were pulling away and she was making her way down the hall.

When you looked up you saw Claudia, looking a bit uncomfortable as she headed to the door, nodding politely at the woman before looking at you. “Do you do that often?” You tilted your head curiously before realizing what she meant. “How often is often?” You stepped to the side and let her in. “Louis isn’t here, by the way. He’s at a job interview.”

She walked in regardless and you raised a brow, closing the door behind her slowly. “More than two times a week.” You hummed and pursed your lips. “Then yes. I do it often.” You laughed softly. “It’ll be a while before he-“ “I didn’t come to see my son. I know he is not home.” You raised a brow. “Oh. Alright. So then you came to talk to little ol’ me?”

She nodded, keeping her purse close as she surveyed the wrecked image of the living room you shared with her son. “This was all me.” You told her, starting to pick up couch pillows and the sports bra you were looking for. “Trust me- if Louis saw this living room he’d probably kill me.” When you looked at Claudia you found her staring at the couch like she was putting things together, her face darkening.

You looked at the couch and bit your tongue as you smirked before clearing your throat and looking at Claudia. “We can sit at the bar if you prefer.” You raised a brow, moving past her and sliding a chair out at the bar. Claudia snapped out of her daze when the stool scraped against the floor and quickly walked over and sat down. “Gracias.” She watched as you smiled and went to the fridge.

“De nada. Can I get you something to drink?” You grabbed a water for yourself, always quick to satisfy that dry roughness in your throat after a long night. “We have water, tea, soda, and… fruit punch.” "Tea is fine."

><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

The second time, you sat closer together, on the couch as Claudia ranted about Louis’ new girlfriend, how shed been so proud of the cookies she brought “and they were store bought!” She’d exclaimed, shaking her head and cursing in Spanish.

You’d laughed a little, amused by Claudia’s nitpicking. “I didn’t like her very much anyway.” You shrugged and made a face. “She tried too hard. Way too hard.” Claudia made a face as she agreed with you.

You’d gotten her a drink, something alcoholic and you’d noticed when you came back she’d scooted a little further away on the couch, held her purse tighter in her lap, one leg crossed over the other and her head spinning around like she was taking in the state of the apartment.

She’d come later in the day, probably as to not run into whoever you’d had over the night before. She avoided the couch pillows that had been on the floor the last time she’d come over, all but sitting on the edge of the couch. You could’ve laughed if you weren’t afraid she’d hit you or something.

><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

The fifth time she came around, you’d had several dinners with her and Louis at this point so the two of you got along great.

Shed made a habit of coming around when Louis wasn’t home after her second visit, you weren’t sure why but you didn’t mind it either.

Your attraction towards her had grown rapidly, you had a thing for women that didn’t hold back what they thought, a woman with attitude that could still dote and care for you.

She’d started coming earlier, as well, confidently passing whoever you’d had over the night before. This time, as she sat on the couch much more comfortably than before, she crossed her hands over her knees and started to casually rip on the poor woman that had just left.

“She is a step down, no?” You raised a brow at her and laughed in surprise. “What?” “Your women- they are usually prettier.” “Huh…” you looked at the door, and then Claudia and smirked. “I hadn’t noticed.” “I'm just saying. Parecía... bastante desesperada. More so than the rest.” She seemed… a little desperate. She shrugged and looked over at you, regretting it immediately.

You weren’t fully dressed this time, athletic body barely covered by a Calvin Klein sports bra and a pair of gray joggers, the waistband of a pair of women’s boxers peeking out. Tattooed body basically screaming at her, the big one covered your entire torso and shoulders, but the ones on your forearms and hands looked abstract, like they were random rather than one thing, when she’d complained about them to Louis he called them ‘patchwork’, she didn’t understand. But she wasn’t complaining now, she found herself appreciating the ink when she saw it, she'd dreamed about it a few times but she would never admit it, not even to herself.

You raised a brow and then she was speaking again before you could respond. “Do your tattoos have meaning?” She squinted and you looked down at your arms and torso, humming. “Some of them do. This bee right here is for my nickname- friends always called me Bee, the rest of the Bee centered tattoo are just my favorite flowers. This one on my hand is my mom's favorite flower, this one on my wrist is a reference to my dad's favorite movie. A few of them have meaning but a lot of them are just shi-ssstuff I thought was cool.” Learning not to cuss around Claudia had been a bit difficult, but after she whacked the back of your head for the fourth time, you started watching your tongue better.

She hummed and stared at your tattoos for a moment before she frowned and looked at the drink you’d given her. You tilted your head and watched the contemplative look on her face for a moment before speaking. “Something on your mind?” You asked curiously, leaning forward from your laid back position.

"Why not women your own age?" You puffed your cheeks out in thought and shrugged. "No real reason... they know what they want, I guess. Most older women... kinda just go for it, sometimes I have to play the strings a bit but its fun. Plus..." your eyes trailed over her slowly, stopping on her breasts and then sliding to her crossed legs. "They're more mature. Physically and emotionally, if it's just a one off they get that, they can keep the two things separate."

"You don't want to settle down, then?" You shrugged a little. "Maybe eventually, but I'm still young, no point in doing that now, right?" She hummed quietly in thought and nodded along to what you were saying.

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The sixth time she came over was when it all fell into place, though. She'd come later in the day, Louis was off with his current girlfriend and had convinced you to have a quiet night in since you'd gone out every night of the week. He'd had a point anyway.

It was about 9:30 when you heard a knock, not too light but light enough you wouldn't expect Claudia to be on the other side of it. Or to be out at all after 8. "Claudia." You laughed, a little surprised as she gently nudged her way into the apartment, coming to a stop next to the island. "Louis is-" "Out with Alice, yes I know." She turned to you, clutching her purse.

She looked nice, the undershirt she covered with that pink cardigan was a little tighter than usual, cut lower so you could see her cleavage and your mouth was trying to determine if it should be dry or drooling as you cleared your throat. her pants were the same, soft and loose with an off-white color to them, and her slippers she usually wore at home were replaced with a slightly heeled shoe you'd never seen her wear before. "... what's been going on with you lately?" You asked after a moment, causing her to widen her eyes and straighten up. "¿A qué te refieres?" What do you mean?

You raised a brow and slowly moved closer to her. You hoped you were reading the last few visits right, hoped you weren't reading too much into the questions about the women that spent the night in your apartment or the lingering stares you'd begun to notice. "You haven't really been yourself- no snappy remarks about my state of undress, or a mess in the living room, you were particularly harsh about my rameras grabbing their things when you sat on that bra after dinner with Louis last week." Whores You tilted your head a bit. “He told you I said that?” “He did.”

Claudia opened and closed her mouth, a bit like a fish before you continued. "And then there's your clothes.." "my clothing?" You nodded and let your eyes fall to her cleavage, your tongue running along your bottom lip slowly before you looked back up at her eyes. "Unless... I'm reading this wrong and you're trying out something new." You tilted your head a bit and she opened her mouth, closed it, and then finally spoke.

"A friend in my club de lectura... was talking." Book club She cleared her throat. "And she mentioned trying something... new... with a younger woman." You raised a brow and crossed your arms slowly. "Mhm..." Claudia furrowed her brows a bit as she thought.

What was she doing here? She was actually going to ask you... no. No, she wasn't going to ask that. She wanted to put truth to what she'd heard. That's all. Then why did she wear this ridiculous shirt? She was a grown woman, in her golden years, she had no business showing off her breasts, especially not to someone young enough to be her daughter.

"She mentioned your name. I wanted to know if it was another Bee or if it was you." You blinked a couple times and then cleared your throat. "... okay." She nodded and then pulled a folded picture from her purse and handed it to you. You took the picture curiously and looked down at it, immediately recognizing her. "Oh, yeah. Anastasia. She was here... gosh about a month ago. It was one of those days you came later in the day, i think you'd managed to just barely miss her, actually."

Claudia's eyes widen and she snatched the photo from your hands. "That is all. Goodnight." She went to move past you but you quickly stepped in front of her with a soft laugh. "Woah. What's the rush? You came all the way here for a yes or no question?" You raised a brow as she huffed. "I wanted to confirm the things she said. I have. Now I'm leaving."

"Well... technically all you did was confirm that she was here." You teased lightly, watching her cheeks as they darkened more than they already had, her hand reaching up to move some of her soft white hair out of her face. "When?" She snapped her head towards you with a curious frown. "¿Qué?" You laughed softly. "When was this bookclub meeting?"

She huffed and looked towards the door before responding. "Two weeks ago." A slow smirk spread across your face. "Oh, really? Hm, let's see, that's right around the last time we were alone, no?" You tilted your head and she glared at you before looking to the side to avoid your eyes.

People didn't make her nervous, she made people nervous. She wasn't used to this, being on the receiving end of some form of taunting, being made to feel small. She didn't... hate it.

"Yes. I wanted to see if I could tell that she was here. Are you happy?" Claudia scoffed and held her purse close again as you laughed softly. "Hm..." You smirked a bit and her cheeks turned pink as you moved closer and reached out to gently pull her purse from where it was pressed against her torso, setting it down on the island slowly and turning your eyes back to her. "Why?" You asked softly.

"¿Por qué?" Why? Claudia mumbled to herself with a small frown, like she hadn't expected to be asked that question, like she hadn't thought of why she wanted to know so bad. You nodded and slowly crowded her against the island, leaving her room to push you off and move away if she really wanted to. "Mhm... why did it matter so much?"

Claudia opened her mouth, brows furrowed together. Why did it matter so much? You were grown, you weren't her child, you could seduce whomever you wanted, there was nothing she could do to stop it. Was she jealous? No... no she wasn't jealous. She wasn't interested in women, she wasn't, sure in highschool she... experimented with friends but that's all it had been, simple exploration.... the fact that she thought about it for decades afterwards doesn't mean anything.

It certainly doesn't mean she wants you to do to her what you'd done to Anastasia.

"You know... if you wanted to try... I would be open to it." You were caging her in a bit, hands pressed on the island on either side of her hips, looking into her eyes with a soft smile. Claudia's eyes widened. "¿P-perdón?" E-excuse me? She stuttered, shaking her head a little.

"Well I can keep a secret. You won't have to worry about Louis finding out... you get to relax, let go of some of that tension..." one of your hands moved from the counter and landed gently on her waist, high enough that it could still be considered friendly, bordering just on the lines of something else. "And experience something new- just for you."

Please say yes repeated over in your head like a mantra. Been dreaming about it. Please

At first it looked like she was going to say no, deny you and run out to call Louis and tell him to move back in with her. But then she was looking down at the hand on her waist, her eyes trailing the length of your arm, across your clavicle, and then down to your waist. You wondered how detailed Ana had gotten, if she'd told Claudia and the gaggle of horny milfs about the toy.

".... Dios mio." You heard Claudia whisper before her lips were shoved against yours. You hummed and brought your other hand to her cheek as your hand squeezed her hip and pressed her into the counter, stepping closer to press against her as she let out a soft moan.

You hummed softly and gently nudged her legs apart with your knee as your hand slid from her waist and dipped into her pants, your hand cupping over her through her underwear. Claudia groaned and dropped her head back for a second before coming back in to kiss you, pushing down into your hand as your tongues tangled.

You smiled a bit against her mouth and ran your fingers over her clit through her underwear slowly as she moaned. Her hips pressed into your hand a little, her hands reaching out to grip onto the black tshirt you were wearing.

You pulled away to presses kisses to her neck, sighing happily as you nuzzled her a bit. "Wanted to do this so bad." You whispered against her ear as she shuddered. "¿En serio? ¿Cuánto tiempo?" You have? How long?

You grinned and nodded. "Mmm since you yelled at me for not wearing any pants." You laughed softly. "Think you're hot when you get angry like that." You purred softly and nipped at her earlobe as she gasped. "And when you hit me for cussing?" You huffed and bit her shoulder this time. "Makes me wanna fuck the meanness right out of you." As you said that you slid your hand up and then pushed it past the waistband of her panties.

Claudia gasped a little louder and moaned as she dropped her back for a second, shuddering a little as you started rubbing her clit again, this time without her satiny underwear in the way. A grin spread across your face as you watched her, biting your lip lightly. “Knew you’d be pretty, too.” You whispered softly.

Her face was red, spreading to her ears and then down her neck and chest. Your eyes fell to her cleavage and you groaned quietly before pressing kisses down her neck, to her clavicle, and then finally nuzzling into her breasts a little, pressing kisses to the exposed flesh.

Claudia was looking down at the top of your head, blinking blearily as she rocked down against your hand, holding onto your arm tightly. “Necesito más. Por favor, por favor necesito más.” I need more. Please, please I need more. She begged.

You cooed softly but gave her what she wanted, sliding two fingers into her with just a little resistance as she gasped and moaned. “Sí.” She opened her eyes to look at you and was met with you staring wide eyed at her breasts, watching her chest rise and lower before you leaned down to press a kiss to the mole on top of her breasts.

You peered up at her, grinning a little as you started fucking your fingers into her. She whined and pushed down on your fingers, shuddering happily. “So good. You’re so good.” She held onto your shirt as she rocked down on your fingers.

You hummed happily and leaned close to her neck, pressing soft kisses to the skin before sliding your tongue from where her neck and shoulder met, up to the little spot behind her ear before pressing against it, making her yelp and moan louder. The yelp was a surprise, but you recovered quick enough and laughed lowly as you tugged on her earlobe before starting to fuck her deeper with your fingers. Her legs shook a little, her grip on you tightening as she moaned and rocked down on your fingers.

“Poor mama.” You purred softly. “Pussies been neglected so long, huh?” You ground the heel of your palm into her clit as you massaged that familiar spot you’d been searching for. “Jus’ been waitin’ for someone to treat her right.” Claudia shuddered and gasped, grinding down on your fingers as she nodded rapidly, she didn't have the mind to scold you for being so explicit about it.

Unfortunately, because God hates you and wants you to suffer, you started to heard keys in the lock, Louis' keys obviously, and managed to pull away just before he and Alice stumbled into the apartment, giggles falling from her lips.

Alice. You didn't like Alice, something felt fake there, something in the way she smiled and spoke, the way she always wanted to be close to you, lingering around the apartment, sometimes half-dressed as she sat next to you. But Louis liked her, and since she hadn't actually done anything yet, it was possible you were just imagining things.

"¿Mamá? ¿Qué haces aquí?" Mom? What are you doing here? Louis came to a stop with a small frown, looking between you and his mother as you stepped away from her and towards the fridge. "Left my lighter last time we were at dinner. She was kind enough to bring it back." You licked your fingers clean as you opened the fridge, trying to seem calm as Claudia nodded rapidly and made her way to do the door.

"Yes. I know she needs it for her.. candles and.. such. So." Claudia cleared her throat loudly and straightened herself up a bit before smiling a soft smile at Louis, a slightly bitter one for Alice, and an unreadable one at you before she was hurrying out the door with a rush Adiós.

Louis and Alice looked at you as the door closed. "Was she alright? She wasn't yelling at you for something was she?" You rolled your head and shook your head, sitting your drink down. "No, Louis. You know I love your mom. Even if she did yell at me- I'd do anything for the woman." Louis furrowed his brows suspiciously before nodding. "Alright well... we'll see you in the morning."

You nodded and saluted to him as he tugged Alice to his room, making a face when you noticed the way Alice's eyes had scanned over you. You shuddered a little before sighing and going to your own room. Horny and lonely. Lonely.

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The next day you decided to go to her house. Alice and Louis would be in the apartment all day, so at 12:30 you packed your little backpack and went to Claudia's house. You hesitated at first, knuckles hovering before you knocked on the door, chewing on your bottom lip.

By 1:15 you were in her bed, buried between her legs with your tongue as deep inside of her as you could get it, Spanish explitives flying from her mouth as she rocked down on your tongue, fingers gripped tightly in your hair. You moaned and whimpered happily, reaching between your legs to give yourself some relief, looking up at her the best you could as you licked and sucked on her clit eagerly, slurping a little as her wetness started to pool.

You'd been on her the second you found out she wasn't expecting any company, your tongue down her throat and your hand in her pants, fucking into that spongey spot you'd felt the night before. You'd just barely made it to her bedroom before you were shoving her pants down and pushing her onto the bed, diving deep between her legs as she let out a loud moan.

By 1:30 you were climbing off the bed, grabbing your backpack and pulling out the red, velvet harness and strapping it on once you had the dildo put in place. It was a healthy 7 inches, thick and curved a bit towards the tip with fake veins added for friction. The color was a fleshy color, matching your own perfectly.

Claudia looked at you in awe, lifting up on her elbows a bit. Her cheeks and neck were red, travelling down her chest, skin shiny with sweat as she panted softly. "Oh mi … te ves hermosa, Bee." Oh my... you look beautiful, Bee. She said breathlessly, making you smile a little as you laughed, tightening the harness around your waist. "Thank you." You leaned down and kissed her softly, cupping her cheek gently.

With your other hand you reached down to guide the fake cock into her, pressing your forehead against hers as she let out a long, low gasp, her eyes fluttering shut. That was your favorite part, watching the pleasure fill their body and make them go slack under you almost immediately. All for you. Because of you.

You let go of the dildo and set your thumb on her clit, rubbing in soft concentric circles, waiting for Claudia's rapid head nod before you started fucking into her, grinding your hips at a torturously slow pace as she moaned deeply. You leaned back, watching her closely as you fucked into her.

Her skin was tan, glistening in the light from her lamp as a thin sheet of sweat covered it, darkening as the blush deepened and spread further down her chest. “Look so pretty like this, Claudia.” You mumbled softly, running your hands over her curves before sliding up and squeezing her breasts gently. “Been dreaming about getting you like this.” You shook your head. “Knew you’d be so pretty under me.”

Claudia moaned as she looked up at you, big brown eyes wide and wet as her fingers tangled in her sheets tightly. “Harder. Por favor. Harder.” She whimpered, rocking her hips to meet yours.

You cooed. “Shh, I got you.” You gently pushed her hips down and started fucking into her harder, keeping the same pace because anyone with brain cells knows harder doesn’t mean faster. She moaned louder, her eyelids fluttering as her back arched off the bed and she pulled on the bedsheet, gasping softly.

You reached down and started rubbing her clit, moaning softly when the dildo started to get creamy, grinning widely. “Look at that…” you pulled out some and reached down to collect it on your finger before holding it out to her. “Taste.” You thought she was going to say no, peering at your finger like you were crazy before she leaned down and sucked your finger clean, keeping her eyes glued to yours.

You grinned and grabbed her jaw gently before diving in to kiss her, moaning happily as her taste spread through both of your mouths. “Fuck..” you mumbled softly before reaching down to rub circles on her clit again, pushing into the kiss.

It wasn’t long before Claudia’s eyes were squeezing shut tightly, a loud moan spilling from her mouth as she came, legs trembling as she wrapped them around you to keep you close. You kept up what you were doing, rubbing her clit while you ground your hips much slower and softer than you had before as you worked her through it.

When her trembles were reduced to the occasional twitch, you slid out and pressed kisses to her cheek and neck as you laid next to her and loosened the harness to pull it off.

“Dios mio.” She whispered softly, staring at the ceiling as you laughed softly. “Stay there.” You kissed her cheek again before climbing out of bed. You got her a glass of water and a clean warm towel, you handed her the water as you sat between her legs to clean her up. “You made a mess.”

She huffed and nudged you with her foot. “Don’t be vile.” You rolled your eyes as you laughed. “It’s true.” “You talk like you were raised in a barn.” She furrowed her brows. “I keep forgetting you’re a classy lady.” You teased with a soft pout, tossing the rag to the floor.

Then you felt a smack to the side of your head. “Ow-!” “Pick that up. There’s a laundry hamper in the bathroom.” You grumbled and got up, picking up the rag and taking it to the bathroom, dropping it in the hamper before coming back to her room and laying in bed next to her.

“Could do this all day. Should do this all day.” You hummed softly and closed your eyes. “Alice is at the apartment- and I don’t like being around her.” You sighed heavily. “Why?” You felt the bed sink as Claudia laid back next to you.

You looked over at her with a hum, smiling softly when you looked in her eyes, sighing. “She’s weird. Think she’s trying to come onto me or something.” You shrugged a little. “Jokes on her though.” You hummed. “Already got the one I want.” You winked as her cheeks brightened and she shook her head.

“Louis should break up with her.” “Yeah I’ve tried several times already. She’s got him pussy whipped or- if you don’t stop hitting me.” You rubbed your chest and glared at her. “Stop cursing in my house and I’ll stop hitting you.”

You huffed and shook your head before looking up at the ceiling again, smiling softly and laughing as you closed your eyes. “I got more stuff to show you.” “.. I don’t have anything coming up today.” You grinned and bit your lip lightly. “Well we can make it an all day thing… at least until Louis starts getting nosey.” You shrugged. “He’ll call when Alice leaves. He hates being alone, Y’know. That’s why he’s got all the girlfriends.”

Claudia huffed. “My son is not lonely. Flores’ do not get lonely.” You rolled your eyes. “If they didn’t get lonely… you wouldn’t be laid up with a girl young enough to be your daughter.” You smirked and moved on top of her, tilting your head before slowly kissing down her body. “Now- we’re gonna stop talking about Louis so that I can give you the attention you deserve.”

She swallowed thickly and let her head fall back as she watched you disappear under the blanket, eyelids fluttering as her fingers tangled in the sheets again.

“Dios Mio~.”

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Shut up shut up shut up

[freckle-face-ace]

Portgas D Ace X Trafalgar Law

2

Law sat out back on a stack of overturned milk crates with a sigh. Opening had been particularly rough that morning, after losing track of time and studying all night. There wasn't much time between rushes, soon the shop would be filling up with people on their lunch breaks, so this would be his only chance for a moment alone for a few hours. Tattooed fingers slipped into the pocket of his navy peacoat retrieving a fresh cigarette without much thought. After lighting the smoke he closed his eyes taking a slow drag, waiting for his nicotine buzz to settle in.

Winter had finally arrived bringing with it the season's first snow. While others wrestled with seasonal depression from being cooped up and all of the cold dreary weather, Law felt surprisingly content. He enjoyed the way the frosty air numbed his nose and fingers. He found days like this were his most productive.

"Shouldn't you know better than to smoke?" that smooth playful timbre launched Law's stomach into the ground.

The quick intake of air and smoke through his startled gasp made him cough and sputter. He hadn't heard that voice in weeks. Not since the night he attended the Newgate's party. Not since they almost…

"I didn't mean to scare you!" Ace called as Law sat forward smashing the smoke under his boot and trying to catch his breath.

A flash of heat swept up Law's neck and face, "Could have fooled me."

"I'm sorry," the younger chuckled, taking a seat on the crate next to him,"are you alright?"

"Except for my pride, yes." Law kept his eyes forward, still attempting to settle himself, "I didn't know you were back in town."

Ace rubbed his nape, "Yep, home for the holidays, and my birthday. Luffy said you'd be out here so I thought I'd say hello."

Finally Law gathered the courage to turn his gaze to his friend's brother, "Hello. How's the tour?"

Ace smiled lopsidedly, "It's going well, but it's nice to be home."

Law's gaze lingered on the freckled male before standing, "Welcome home then Ace-ya. We should head back in before we freeze."

Quietly Ace followed Law inside through the back door of the cafe. They skirted passed back stocked supplies and storage.

"Am I allowed to be back here?" Ace asked glancing around.

Law nodded, leading him through the small kitchen up to the service counter, "I'm the manager, you can be back here if I allow it."

"What an honor."

Law held up the portion of the bar that led to the store front so that Ace could pass under.

"Right? I'm so nice." he smirked.

Ace shivered appreciating this new expression and playful cockiness.

"And very humble."

He wasn't prepared for the low chuckle that rumbled through the soon to be doctor. His admiration was interrupted as his little brother barged into the room bringing back the soft frown that seemed to be Law's default setting.

"It's time to get ready for the next rush."

Just like before Ace took a seat at the bar while Law worked diligently on his coffee without actually having him order. He noticed the darker than usual circles under his half lidded stormy eyes. There's no way this man had been sleeping.

Why did that bother him?

"Ace!" An energetic voice called as the patron at the front of the line slapped the middle of his back harder than intended.

Law glanced over as Ace let out a soft grunt from the impact. A tall person with long tri-colored hair tied up in a high ponytail practically vibrated with excitement while their sunset colored eyes filled with adoration. Law continued to observe with a neutral expression after placing Ace's coffee in front of him.

"Hey, Yamato," the freckled male chuckled after recovering from having the wind smacked out of him, "it's been a minute."

"It has! I missed you the last time you were in town!"

"I wasn't here long and I heard your dad had dragged you along on a hunting trip." Ace pulled his cup closer.

"I've kinda started to enjoy the trips. They aren't so bad. Oh excuse me," Yamato called getting Law's attention, fiddling with the strings of their hoodie, "can I get a white chocolate cocoa please?"

Law nodded and got to work while Ace let out a teasing laugh.

"You're just like Luffy. An adult that orders like a kid."

"It's rude to tease your elders." they chided swatting his shoulder.

Law cleared his throat gently interrupting their banter to deliver the drink order and collect payment.

Ace and Yamato continued to chat and laugh while Law worked nearby. Initially he'd tried to gauge their conversation. Yamato was certainly attractive, and their personality seemed to vibe well with Ace's. But very quickly he could see that they were just old friends having a catch-up. He did envy how they could make Ace laugh so candidly.

It wasn't that Law wasn't funny - his sense of humor just wasn't for everyone. Though he had made his freckled counterpart laugh at his snarkiness - he just didn't realize it was a sound that he would miss.

After the crowd died down Law gave Luffy a short to-do list and returned to the bar to clean and restock. Ace had been looking at his phone so Law decided to make him a new drink. When he finished and turned to slide it across the bar he found Ace already watching him. Those lazy ruby eyes sent a shiver down the aspiring doctor's spine.

"You hum when you work, like you're so lost in the zone." his warm fingers brushed over Law's as he accepted the new beverage.

"I hadn't really noticed." his neck and ears felt hot.

Ace smirked watching Law flush so adorably over his observation giving him the courage to continue, "It's cute," he chuckled, shifting forward on the bar stool, "it makes me wonder if you do it during practicals at school."

Suddenly Law felt like a gazelle caught in a lion's sight, "I couldn't really say."

He needed to move and busy himself so it would stop being so hot. Turning to the small sink he flipped on the faucet and got to work.

"Thanks for the drink. I can't believe you remember my order." Ace smiled seeing Law's ears go pink.

"You like all that sweet crap." Law commented with a slightly playful tone.

"You don't like sweet stuff?" Ace tapped the lid of his to-go cup.

Law turned a bit to glance at Ace briefly and scoff, "Not in my coffee."

Ace shivered at his timbre, "Let me guess, you prefer either a cup of black coffee with no more than two sugars or a plain shot of espresso."

"Why mess with perfection?" Law chuckled before turning completely back to Ace,"You could work here Ace-ya."

"I'm afraid I'd be too distracted." he replied coquettishly.

Law did his best to remain neutral but this last implication managed to scramble his brain.

"So," Ace spoke up as tension began to roll off of him,"I did stop by for a reason."

"Oh? Not just to scare the crap out of me in the alley?" Law attempted to ease the edginess.

The younger male took a deep breath, seeming to find some resolve. Law's stomach dropped a bit, things suddenly felt serious and he wasn't sure what to expect.

"I uh, wanted to see if you wanted to do something while I'm in town?" his eyes flickered away from Law waiting for his reply.

Law was sure he was misunderstanding, "H-having another party?"

Ace met his gaze again with a small smile curving his lips, "No, just you and I."

Law's eyes widened a bit, "Like…a -"

"A date!" Luffy interrupted rounding the corner, "You're so slow sometimes Torao."

[kaistarus]

Enchanted

Chapter 4

Pair: Nishinoya X Reader

Words: 4.6K

Summary: When your best friend enters a relationship with a prince your life changes in ways you never thought possible. You gain new friendships, learn dangerous secrets, and learn that love may exist for you after all...

A/N: This is for the like two people who still ask for updates on this fic... It's been multiple years buuuuuutt I'm still kicking lmao love and appreciate you <3 better late than never right??

Prev/Next

The sunrise trickled in through the bakery's front windows, casting the store in peach hues that chased away the creeping Autumn chill. The cacophony of Yachi’s rush to complete set-up before the early risers were welcome background noises, as opposed to the usual morning doves screeching aside your bedroom. Unhelpfully, you picked freshly sliced banana bread rolling each piece into miniscule dough balls before plopping them in your mouth.

A deep sigh escaped as you dropped your forehead against the counter’s course wood. It was too early to be alive.

“You know, when you offered to help me open the bakery I thought you’d be, I don’t know, helping?” Yachi appeared, startling you by roughly placing a tray of tarts on the counter.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, propping yourself up uselessly with your cheek against your palm. You watched her swiftly arrange various baked goods–realistically you probably would’ve slowed her down. “I’m not feeling very motivated.”

“Shouldn’t you be in a good mood? I thought crushes made people all smiles and blushy,” Yachi stepped back to admire her display before pointing her empty tray accusingly at you. “You’ve been nothing but grouchy and depressing the past weeks.”

A warmth crept up your neck which you expertly covered with a sneer. After confiding in your friends that you maybe, possibly had more-than-friend feelings toward Nishinoya they haven’t failed to remind you at least five times a day. Which didn’t bode well for your attempting to forget the whole problem existed.

“It feels more like I’m going to throw up and I constantly want to punch him for ruining my ability to have a coherent thought,” you grumbled. At the mention, his stupid amber eyes flitted across your thoughts and you groaned exasperatedly. “He’s the absolute worst.”

“A tragedy I’m sure.”

As your glare turned on her the bell above the bakery’s front door chimed for the day’s first customers. Perhaps some mindless customer service would help distract you from a certain annoying royal guard. Yachi’s bakery was on the opposite side of Karasuno from the castle–you were about as safe as you could get after all.

“--me walk all the way here just so you can–”

“If you’re so sure she’s not here then what’s the problem?”

Your shoulders stiffened when your eyes snapped toward the entryway. Standing there was a relatively tall man with a shaved head, dressed in commoner clothing except for a shirt that detailed the castle insignia–a crow. Although you knew you’d never met him there was a strong tug in your mind that you should know him; as if his name was on the tip of your tongue.

Perhaps you could have remembered if it weren’t for the unfortunately, incredibly familiar man trailing after him. Your heart had mindlessly leaped at the sound of his voice and now it raced rapidly as your gaze remained glued to him. Nishinoya’s hair was flattened, blonde strands rested haphazardly against his forehead in a way that left you itching to run your fingers through them and brush them back. He dressed like his friend, the only thing signifying their roles was the castle crest on their shirts.

“She never gets up this early. Even if she did do you know how weird it’d be if I randomly… was…” Nishinoya trailed off as your eyes locked. “Aw, shit.”

His friend glanced between you before a sly grin spread across his face. Nishinoya’s eyes went wide and he attempted to grab him, “Wait, Tanaka, please I–”

“(Y/N)?”

You took in the man’s devious smile as he leaned against the counter, effectively blocking Nishinoya from view. That night in the castle’s garden rose from your memories. Kiyoko and a guard whispering low, her smile that had given you hope, Nishinoya pulling you back panicked.

“Yes,” you stuttered out, avoiding his eyes. Afraid he’d see the recognition there. “Um, and you are?”

“Tanaka, at your service,” he gave a mock bow, “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“You have?” You asked, eyes flickering toward Nishinoya who’d reddened significantly.

“You have?” Yachi piped in excitedly beside you, unhelpfully adding to the chaos.

“Oh yeah, Nishinoya never shuts up about you.”

“Not true,” Nishinoya countered. “I shut up all the time about you. I barely even talk honestly.”

You scoffed. “What a dream.”

Nishinoya managed a weak glare over Tanaka’s shoulder but was disappointedly cut off by Tanaka’s uproarious laughter. A twinge of annoyance struck noting Nishinoya’s clear discomfort, only made worse when Tanaka slung an arm around his shoulders to root him firmly in place.

“You really weren’t kidding man,” Tanaka said approvingly, shaking Nishinoya who groaned in distress.

You tilted your head, but before getting clarification Yachi asked, “So what are you both doing out here?”

“Great question,” Nishinoya muttered.

“I was just craving a muffin for breakfast,” Tanaka waved off the curiosity.

“At the crack of dawn?” You crossed your arms, giving him a skeptical once-over. “On the other side of town?”

“Food always tastes better after a long walk in the fresh morning air.”

You and Yachi exchanged a glance in disbelief. The coincidence of whatever show Tanaka was putting on felt too suspicious for this casual run-in. Nonetheless, Yachi began helping him choose between the various muffins available. Meanwhile, Nishinoya played an excellent game of avoiding eye contact at all costs.

“So, (Y/N),” Tanaka said, pulling your attention away from the other royal guard. “What are your plans for today?”

That seemed to capture Nishinoya’s attention, frantically looking between you in alarm. You raised an apprehensive brow, answering, “Helping Yachi.”

“Help is a word,” Yachi snorted. “She’s free.”

“Why are you asking?”

“Well, Noya and I were just about to head over to the lake–”

“You were just telling me how incredibly uninvited I was.” Nishinoya interrupted, but Tanaka bulldozed through him.

“--and I think you’d really enjoy it.” Tanaka leaned over the counter. “You know who will be there too. She’s been wanting to meet you.”

You blinked, slowly processing his cryptic message before your eyes shot wide. Kiyoko. A warmth spread through your cheeks–he knew. Either Nishinoya had confessed the slip-up or they’d spotted you too.

“Uh, maybe I could…” You glanced for Nishinoya’s reaction. His cheeks were a deep red, eyebrows furrowed with a piercing glare targeted at Tanaka. Your stomach rolled with the familiar nausea. “I don’t think Nishinoya would like that very much.”

He turned to you baffled, any trace of anger vanished when your eyes met. “I would.”

You blinked, attempting to divert your focus anywhere aside from the rapid pace of your heart as his amber gaze intensified. “I don’t want to overstep,” you added.

“You couldn’t over–” A crease appeared between his brow as he struggled to find the right words. “I prefer it when you’re around.”

Nishinoya’s gaze was too earnest, his smile leaving you baffled at how easily he could speak his mind. You hadn’t realized how embarrassingly long you’d been staring until Yachi began lightly nudging your side.

“Oh, uh, okay. Yeah, I’ll go,” you fumbled out, glancing at Tanaka who wore a shit-eating grin.

“Excellent.” The mischievous tone he did nothing to hide gave you a flicker of regret. That was until you glanced back at Nishinoya’s dopey grin. “Well, I’ve gotta head out to pick up milady but surely Noya’s got it from here.”

Nishinoya’s face dropped in panic, “what?”

Tanaka was out the door before any arguments could ensue; the bell’s lingering chime and a few absent muffins were the only signals he’d even been there. Nishinoya stiffly turned toward you, “I guess we should…” He gestured toward the door and you nodded absentmindedly.

As Yachi guided you around the counter it struck you that you hadn’t been alone with Nishinoya for months. Since that bizarre invitation to the castle, you had only seen each other under the pretense of his guarding Prince Kageyama. You had grown used to the buffer of your friends. When your heart beat a little too fast or the urge to touch him grew dangerously strong, they were always there to divert attention.

What were you meant to do now?

The early Autumn chill still clung to the air as you exited the bakery, drifting past various storefronts filled with early risers. Your matching footsteps echoed against desolate cobblestone streets. Nishinoya seemed lost in thought and although your walk remained fairly quiet, you were only filled with peace; as though this was a routine morning activity.

“Uh, it’ll just be a few more minutes to the treeline.” He nodded toward where the road shifted to a dirt path. Several yards further you could just spot the forest line.

“Kiyoko’s going to be there?” You asked, taking his grunt as a yes. “Where is this place? I didn’t know there was a lake out this way.”

“It’s pretty secluded. I found it while exploring the woods,” Nishinoya said with a smile, giving an eye-roll as he added. “Tanaka’s pretty much taken it over recently though. Haven’t been there in months.”

“You just wander into forests often?”

“When I was a kid sure,” he shrugged.

“How long have you lived in Karasuno?” You’d lived in Karasuno your whole life and certainly you’d remember running into him… because he’s obnoxious and weird; no other reason.

He side-eyed you, looking apologetic in his silence.

“I forgot. Guardian Deity, top secret information,” you grumbled. “So dramatic.”

He chewed his bottom lip before quietly adding, “I moved to the castle when I was thirteen.”

You paused, watching him continue ahead. “So, six years?”

“Eight.”

Your jaw dropped, rushing to catch up with him once more. “You’re twenty-one!?”

His cheeks dusted pink and he eyed you defiantly, “Yeah, twenty-two in October so… what’s that look for?”

“Nothing, I just thought you were younger than me.”

“Not into older guys?” He said with a sly smirk making you puff your cheeks in annoyance. You marched toward the forest line with your head high, ignoring his teasing calls behind you.

“Hey, c’mon, you’re going the wrong way.” He laughed, changing your marching direction by lightly adjusting your shoulders. When you both reached the supposedly right entrance to the forest you stared at him dubiously.

The ‘entrance’ looked like any other section of the tree line–overgrown grass and plant life, trees too close with branches hanging low, and roots entangled on uneven terrain. There were no clear paths to follow and you were suddenly suspicious this was all a prank.

“You have to go a little off-trail, but that’s why it’s so well hidden.”

“A little off-trail?” You scoffed, gesturing to the overgrown bush you’d need to climb over. “Nishinoya. There’s no trail to stray off.”

“But that’s half the fun,” he smirked, amused by your horror.

“I am not going in there.”

“What’s the worst that could happen?”

“We get mauled by a wild animal,” you began listing on your fingers. “I trip and hit my head on a rock and fall into a coma, or you trick me and murder me where no one will find my body.”

“I would never let any of those happen to you.” Nishinoya fought back a smile, “And I hear you’re pretty good in a fight so I’d be stupid to attempt murdering you.”

You tapped your chin. “It’s true. I have learned how to properly hold a sword.”

“A force to be reckoned with I fear.”

You sighed in defeat, “this better be the greatest lake I’ve ever seen.”

“I would never lead you astray,” he swore with a hand over his heart. You rolled your eyes at the theatrics before he held the hand toward you, wiggling his fingers for emphasis. “For safety.”

You glanced at Nishinoya, his amber eyes that couldn’t quite meet yours and his outstretched hand. With a moment’s hesitation, you took it, allowing him to lace your fingers together with a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

For safety.

He did his best to guide you through the densest of the forest, holding back branches that stuck too close and mapping out paths that held the least stray rocks or wild roots. Whenever you stumbled he reflexively steadied you before disaster. Anytime curses began flowing from your mouth he just bounced back with encouraging words and promises that the worst was almost over.

The positivity almost frustrated you more than snippy comebacks, but eventually, the woods cleared enough you could walk side-by-side without fear of consistent stumbling. Neither of you mentioned your still entwined hands, and neither attempted to separate them. After several minutes you had grown used to the warmth of his palm, the comfort of safety it brought you. Part of you dreaded releasing him, maybe you didn’t mind the forest.

That part died the moment an exit came into view.

“Slow down,” Nishinoya laughed, dragged behind you as you broke through the treeline. Your jaw went slack when your eyes adjusted to the sunlight reflecting off the shimmering lake. The grass surrounding it was a lush green, untouched by anyone aside from wildlife. And the rocky shore glistened as waves brushed against it.

You spotted Tanaka and Kiyoko seated around a handmade firepit, surrounded by a long log and several larger rocks dragged out from the woods. Tanaka waved you over and fearing more relentless teasing at Nishinoya’s expense you swiftly dropped his hand. You didn’t have time to process the disappointed look he sent you before jogging over to the others.

“You actually came!” Tanaka said, standing to greet you before the firepit.

“I said I would,” you half-smiled, glancing behind him at a waving Kiyoko who smiled politely.

“Kiyoko. This is (Y/N),” he clasped you on the shoulder which Nishinoya promptly swatted away. “She’s the one Noya’s been talking non-stop about.”

“Oh my god, no I haven’t,” Nishinoya grumbled, shoving Tanaka away. “I talk a reasonable and appropriate amount.”

“It is rather often,” Kiyoko added with a hand covering her smile. “I feel like we’re already close friends with how much I know of you.”

“Kiyoko,” Nishinoya whined in betrayal. Tanaka hurried back over, effectively pinning Nishinoya with an arm slung around his shoulder.

“Did you know he took two months of overtime to get you invited to that party at the castle?” Tanaka asked, tightening his hold on Nishinoya as his face became horror-stricken. “This is his first day off in forever.”

“Oh my god, that explains so much.” You stared at your hands as you processed. You knew it made no logical sense for you to get that invitation–Hinata’s friend or not.

“After everything I’ve done for you,” Nishinoya growled, before going weightless and pulling Tanaka to the ground with him. You stared baffled as they took turns grappling each other to the ground.

“Should we be worried about that?” You asked Kiiyoko, pointing to where Tanaka was seated firmly atop a flailing Nishinoya.

She simply shrugged. “They should be done in a few minutes.”

“Of course…” You plopped down onto the log across the fire from Kiyoko. How often do those two fight for her to wave it off so casually?

“It’s nice to have someone else around,” Kiyoko commented.

“I actually wanted to apologize,” you blurted feeling warmth creep up your neck. “I didn’t mean to–at the castle, I should’ve–”

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” she raised a confused brow. “Nishinoya trusts you. That’s enough for me.”

You fiddled with the log’s bark beneath you, fighting down the erratic beating of your heart at those implications. There was so much you wanted to ask Kiyoko, so many things you could learn from her. That happiness you’d thought a fairytale danced in her eyes even now as she watched the wrestling behind you.

You opened your mouth, closed it. Struggling to find words before she interrupted your thoughts. “You want to know how I met Tanaka?”

“You don’t have to tell me if you’re not comfortable,” you rushed.

“No, it’s okay. I would like to.” Her smile diverted to her feet as she said, “I’ve never been able to share it before.”

You blinked in surprise. The fact that she had to keep such a strong development hidden from everyone twisted your heart painfully. Even throughout whatever was developing for you, you had friends teasing you the whole way. You couldn’t imagine going through it alone.

“When I first arrived in Karasuno my family spent majority time at the palace,” she began, staring off into the distance while examining her memories. “They encouraged me to spend time with Prince Kageyama, so I was with him and Nishinoya most days.”

You nodded encouragingly, truthfully excited for any crumbs of Nishinoya's background you might be receiving. Kiyoko hesitated a moment before continuing.

“Prince Kageyama wasn’t interested in entertaining guests, so I mostly talked to Nishinoya. A bit of a flirt I’ll admit, although looking back I think it was more for entertainment than a show of interest.” She rolled her eyes and you smiled, ignoring the unreasonable pang of jealousy. “Then one day I spotted Nishinoya wandering the halls off-duty, but he wasn’t alone.”

A smile quirked on her lips. “Tanaka saw me and before we could even do introductions he was confessing his undying love.”

Your jaw dropped. You waited for her to backtrack, to break out into laughter and inform you it was an insane joke. She did not.

“And that… that worked?”

“Oh, absolutely not. I thought he was crazy,” she chuckled behind her hand, eyes darting over your shoulder. “But we somehow ended up alone quite often. And as we were talking I just… I don’t know it felt different. It felt genuine.”

You nodded in understanding, “But aren’t you scared? What if someone finds out and…”

Kiyoko shrugged. “I’d rather love him like this than never love him at all.”

You scoured her face calculatively. She did mean that. Kiyoko would rather have a few moments with him than nothing at all. It was a beautiful sentiment… one you weren’t sure you had in you to agree. That rolling nausea crept back into your stomach.

The log teetered as a warmth plopped close beside you. Nishinoya’s brief body heat did more to warm you than the low fire had throughout your entire conversation with Kiyoko.

“Miss me?” He smirked, wiggling his eyebrows. The movement emphasized crinkled leaves and twigs trapped in his unruly hair, mussed by their roughhousing. You rolled your eyes, leaning over to clean him off.

“In your dreams,” you scoffed. “I’m surprised you didn’t injure yourself.”

“Oh? Worried about me?” He teased in a way made less effective by the pink dusting his cheeks.

“Obviously.” At his surprised look, you immediately backtracked. “How can you guard my best friend’s boyfriend if you’re injured?”

An amused smile crept onto his lips. “You’re right. How can I live up to my duties as the royal boyfriend protector if I break my arm?”

You narrowed your eyes at the mocking glint in his eyes and ever so slowly crushed the leaves in your hand, sprinkling the pieces into his disheveled hair without breaking eye contact. As realization struck him a triumphant smile spread across your face.

“What the hell?” He exclaimed, ruffling his hair in an attempt to rid it of the bits that clung tightly to his brown locks.

“I try to be thoughtful and that’s the thanks I get.”

Nishinoya grumbled to himself, sending you a half-assed glare before addressing the group. “Hey Tanaka, when should we–”

Tanaka was gone. And Kiyoko was gone. You looked around the clearing frantically but couldn’t find signs of either of them; as if they’d up and disappeared.

“Don’t worry, they’re probably just making out somewhere. I’d avoid that spot specifically,” Nishinoya said, gesturing at the far end of the forest line near the lake’s edge.

“They disappeared so quickly,” you said in amazement. You hadn’t even heard them leave.

“Yeah, that’s why I don’t really hang out with them anymore.”

You studied him calculatively as he stirred the dim fire using a long stick that had been lying beside your log. Your fingers itched to run through his hair, somehow remaining soft despite the unruliness from his earlier roughhousing. His lips rested in a mindless smile as if that was their default expression when relaxed and you fought to keep composure of your heart, fearing at this distance he could hear its rhythm pounding against your ribcage. Moments like these were when you desperately relied on others to kill the mood.

“Kiyoko told me how you all met.” You blurted thoughtlessly if only to distract yourself from your inner turmoil.

“Yeah? She didn’t ruin my incredibly cool image did she?”

“You’d need to have one for her to ruin first.”

“I miss that Yamaguchi guy. We should hang out with him more.” He pouted before facing you fully, “Well, what’d Kiyoko say?”

“She just mentioned stuff about the castle, you guarding Kageyama, Tanaka confessing his undying love. All the basics.”

Nishinoya nodded as if being told old and incredibly boring news. “...and?”

“And what?”

“That’s not why you brought it up, is it?” He quirked a brow. “What else did she say?”

You chewed your lower lip as embarrassment flooded you. His watchful gaze intensified the longer you took to spit it out. “She said that you flirted with her a bit. Before Tanaka confessed or whatever.”

Nishinoya did not even attempt to hold back the excitement glittering in his eyes as he scooched closer on the log. “Did that make you jealous?”

“No,” you denied, sliding away. “I just found it interesting.”

“Oh?” His smile was downright devilish and you wanted to punch it off his dumb handsome face. “Well, would it make you feel better if I said I never genuinely flirted with her?”

“A little,” you mumbled, avoiding his amused stare.

“What if I said I’ve never genuinely flirted with anyone?” He claimed, scouring your face. “Never even really liked anyone?”

You blinked opening your mouth to say that actually would not make you feel better, thank you very much, until he added, “Until recently.”

You stared, dumbfounded. “Depends.”

“On?”

“How much you like that Yamaguchi guy.”

He narrowed his eyes unamused by the joke, “Yeah, I spend all this time embarrassing myself around you because I have a crush on that rando.”

“Don’t call Yamaguchi a rando. He’s very important to–” You blinked, slowly taking in Nishinoya’s reddened cheeks. “Oh, we’re talking about me.”

“Obviously I’m talking about you,” he groaned, dropping his head into his hands. A dopey smile crossed your face watching him grumble to himself. Thoughtlessly you leaned forward, grabbing his hands to tug them back from his face, urging him to look up at you.

He glanced up wearily, pink dusting his cheeks and palms lightly coated in nervous sweat which you’d lock away to tease him about later. In the moment, you pulled them into your lap with an encouraging squeeze.

“Me too,” you whispered.

His eyebrows shot to his hairline, he gawked bewildered as if that had been the last thing he imagined you confessing. He struggled to form a sentence, his incoherent stuttering had you biting your lip to hold back laughter. Until he stilled, eyes flickering toward your mouth where they lingered much too long.

You noticed him slowly begin to lean and alarms blared, drowning out any ounce of desire as you blurted, “I can’t be like Kiyoko.”

He furrowed his brows in confusion, wading through a daze to string together, “I don’t want you to be like Kiyoko. I just said I’ve only liked you not–”

“No not–” Your face burned at his straightforward confession and you battled to keep your mind focused. “I mean, I can’t sneak around like them. I can’t hide in gardens or forests and pretend I don’t love someone. I can’t just be okay with for now when I want forever.” Your grip on his hands tightened in your distress. “You know what I mean?”

He looked in awe, gaze filled with an emotion you weren’t certain you could accurately yet name. His eyes scoured your face searching for something before a dopey smile spread across his face. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he gently pressed his forehead against yours. His blonde tufts tickled your forehead as he gently said, “I’m not built to love someone in secret.”

A raging warmth spread throughout your chest. “But how will we–”

“I’ll figure it out.” He nuzzled his forehead further against yours. “I promise.”

“Is Kageyama going to threaten my entire family?”

The corner of his lip quirked, “It’s definitely a solid backup plan.”

You half-heartedly smacked his chest but he just squeezed your hands tighter. After a few moments of blissful silence, you adjusted to lean against him while he toyed with your fingers in his lap, just reveling in being together, Nishinoya whispered, “My name is Yuu.”

You lifted your head surprised. “I thought I wasn’t supposed to know that.”

“You’re not, but I’d like you to.” His gaze was genuine as he added. “I’d like you to know all of me. If that’s okay.”

A smile broke across your face. “I would singlehandedly fight all of the King’s enemies if it meant I got to know even you’re favorite color.”

He blinked. After an awkward amount of silence you thought perhaps you’d said something wrong, but he surprised you by tenderly cupping your cheeks. “That was the single most romantic thing anyone has ever and will ever say to me.”

“What do you–”

“I would very much like to kiss you now.”

Your entire body tensed. You hadn’t even meant to be romantic–you were just being honest. The determined set to his brow sent your heart into a frenzy, you squeezed your eyes shut as you nodded your head. You felt him shifting, tilting your head minutely before leaning closer. Just as his breath was against your lips a voice echoed in the fields around you, fluttering your eyes open you met with Nishinoya’s furious glare.

“Hey, Noya do you know when–Ohhh.”

Nishinoya gave Tanaka the deadliest glare you’d ever seen, you could almost see the flames radiating off him. It made you realize that maybe there was a reason Karasuno’s Guardian Deity had all those terrifying rumors Yamaguchi always paraded around. Perhaps there really was a reason everyone was so frightened of him.

Kinda hot.

“Dude, privacy!?” Nishinoya waved his hands at where Tanaka’s exited. “I know you’ve heard of it.”

“I’m so sorry, bro. I really didn’t think you had it in you.”

You glanced toward the lake as their arguing continued, gasping at the realization of how high the sun had risen. Nishinoya placed a hand on your shoulder in concern. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m supposed to meet my mother for lunch. She’s going to kill me if I’m not–”

“No problem,” Nishinoya grabbed your hand to assist you in your dreaded trek back through the woods. You waved goodbye at Tanaka while Nishinoya sent him a rather crude gesture that had you covering a smile.

On your journey home Nishinoya recounted stories involving his older sisters that left you smiling the whole way. You truly couldn’t remember a time you’d felt happier than in that moment beside him. And you had no clue how the future would play out, but you trusted him–there was no one you’d rather go through this with.