#ice and fear part 7

[clockwayswrites]

Birdritch what? Part 7

masterpost

It was warm.

That was the first thing that Danny noticed as he started to wake.

Danny didn’t sleep warm. Too often if it was too warm, Danny would wake up and have to push aside layers of bedding or shed clothing. Cooling sheets, heat wicking pillow, and light pajamas was the way for Danny to sleep best. He felt oddly rested despite the heat.

It was also heavy.

That was the second thing that Danny noticed.

Maybe he fell asleep with the weighted blanket on the couch?

Except that didn’t feel right.

His couch wasn’t that firm. His couch didn’t snore and his weighted blanket didn’t have arms. Yeah, okay, yep. Someone definitely had their arms wrapped around Danny, tucking him close to their very well defined chest and under their chin. Someone else, a much smaller someone, was tucked close to Danny’s elbow and breathing softly.

What the fuck did he get up to last night?

And why couldn’t he remember any of it?

Someone else mumbled something sleepily. That was three at least, four counting him. Maybe five with the soft, breathy snore? Danny stayed as still as possible and tried to mentally retrace his steps.

He had been at work. Right, Lucius had sent him home since it had gotten late. Danny had gotten food and headed home. He must have gone through Ivy’s park, it would have been the closest way…

…and that’s all.

He couldn’t remember anything after that.

There were flashes of fear and burning lungs and that deep-seated need protect, but over all of that there was a sense of belonging. No, belonging was quite the right word. It was less that he had belonged but more like he had found the missing pieces that had belonged to him.

As much as the snatches of feelings were coated with good, Danny couldn’t help the panic that settled in his chest. He didn’t remember. He should remember, being what he was. Why didn’t he remember? Why hadn’t he just gone ghost? Why did his bones ache like he had gone ghost? If he had he should remember.

Fuck, what sort of rogue shit had he gotten dosed with in the park?

The hand on his chest pressed down purposefully.

“Breathe.” The voice was low and rough, heavily with sleep over a deep gravely timber.

Danny wanted to say that he was trying to breathe, thank you very much whoever the fuck you are, but all that came out was a little wheeze of air.

“Okay. Here’s my other hand. One squeeze for yes, two for no.”

A large, calloused hand slipped into Danny’s, twining with his own scarred and bandaged fingers. Danny gave the hand a squeeze.

“Has this happened to you before?”

One squeeze.

“Often?”

Two.

“Is this an allergic response?”

Two quick squeezes.

“Asthma?”

Danny hesitated before giving three squeezes. He could hear other people starting to stir now, but kept his eyes stubbornly closed. He wasn’t ready to actually deal with the people he had fallen asleep with. Besides, it was hard to hear over the beat of his own heart.

“…No, or more, not yet?”

One firm squeeze.

“Panic or anxiety attack then?”

One hesitant, embarrassed squeeze.

“Alright. I am going to sit us up. Lean back against me and follow my breathing.”

Danny tried not to whimper as he was shifted. He failed.

“I’ll get a damp towel,” another voice offered quietly.

Fuck towels, Danny wanted his pain meds. He must have not taken them last night and now everything was stiff and tight. Forget breathing, Danny just wanted to stay curled up in the blanket and not move. Maybe everyone else would leave wherever they were and Danny could just go ghost and slip out of there without dealing with any of this.

“Relax,” the low voice rumbled.

Danny would have cussed them out if he had the voice to.

The board chest that Danny was resting against took an exaggerated breath. Danny struggled to try and follow it. It didn’t seem like he was getting out of breathing, damn it. An ice cold cloth suddenly pressed against his neck, startling Danny enough to suck in a breath of air.

“There, keep that up,” the main voice instructed.

Danny pinched the fingers still closed gently around his in retaliation.

Someone else, more feminine sounding, laughed while the person behind him let out a slightly amused huff. “I know you know. Now your body just needs to know.”

Danny pinched them again, though to their credit they didn’t pull away their hand. Which was… sorta nice. As much as Danny was sulking about it all, the comfort of a hand in his was nice. The calloused thumb rubbed gently over that web of skin between Danny’s thumb and pointer fingers in a pattern that Danny worked to match his breath to. Finally Danny figured he needed to brave opening his eyes.

He wasn’t in a hotel.

Or an apartment.

Or any sort of room.

No, he was in a cave. As suspiciously well furnished cave completely with a grouping of vigilantes watching him curiously.

“Well, at least it wasn’t an orgy,” Danny grumbled.

He heard someone trip further into the cave.

[7seas-of-ryy]

I Need You | Part 1

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

Author’s Note: I want this to be multiple parts because I have a storyline that would feel crammed if I did it in one part! Not sure exactly how long I'll make it! Angst AND fluff!!

Summary: You've been in love with Azriel for as long as you can remember but it seems he always wants what he can't have. You want him to be happy with Elain but what will it cost you?

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Warnings: Nightmares, let me know if I need to add any others :)

You were running as fast as you could and it wasn't fast enough. The creature was catching up to you and the second it got you, you knew you'd be gone forever. Sweat poured down your body, fear was coursing through you as you heard the monster start to... laugh behind you? It was truly enjoying the chase. Suddenly shadows started to appear, starting at your ankles then wrapping around your body until they were covering you entirely.

Azriel. He was here to save you and the relief you felt was sweet. You knew the shadows would protect you. Until, as quickly as they appeared, they began to fade away. What? No, this can't be happening. You're cover is entirely gone and the creature jumps at you. You struggle against it and scream for the shadowsinger but its no use. It sinks it's teeth right into your neck and right as you're about to die...

You jolt awake. Immediately grabbing for your neck to make sure there are no marks and convince your brain there was no actual monster.

The immediate dread of putting on a smile for the rest of the day hit you. Everyone in the IC had their own problems and nightmares, you didn't need to burden any of them with your own.

So, you got yourself ready for the day, put on a happy face, and headed down for breakfast. Only Cassian, Feyre, and Rhys were down and eating already.

"Good morning sunshine" Cass spoke with a mouth full of food.

You smiled at him and sat down with a cup of coffee, not in the mood to fill your stomach after that horrible dream.

"How did you sleep?" Feyre asked, her kind eyes watching you

"Good" You forced out and Feyre's eyebrows rose at the clipped word. Rhys and Cass were now watching you as well.

"Uh I was thinking of going out today, maybe try out the new bakery that opened up." You said quickly, hoping they wouldn't notice you trying to change the subject.

"Oh! Azriel was just telling us he wanted to try it out! He'll definitely want to go with you!" Feyre spoke

As if speaking his name had summoned him, he walked in with Elain at his side.

"Did I hear my name?" The shadowsinger asked

"Our dear friend here was just telling us she was going to try that new bakery today and we knew you wanted to as well." Cass said while throwing an arm around you with a big smirk

Azriel's eyes lit up ever so slightly. "Ah yes, I did want to try that. I'm afraid I'll be busy for a while. Would you like to go tonight instead?"

You nodded your head with a shy smile, "Yes that would be nice. I'll meet you there"

He tilted his head in acknowledgment at you and went back to his conversation with Elain.

You had been crushing on Azriel for so long, maybe too long. For a while you'd hoped he felt the same, but it seemed his attention was always elsewhere. He's been too busy with Elain all the time so you barely got to hang out with him anymore. To say you were excited to finally get some time with him was an understatement.

You went up to your room, packed your bag for the day and left for the city. Even though you had a rough start, maybe today would be a good day... Maybe.

[woodland-gremlin]

Summoning Your Secret Boyfriend Pt. 7

This part was brought to you by the amazing @megasweetbones . They wrote this part, I simply edited it. Go check them and their work! Show them some love!

First Previously AU Summary

“Were you the ones that summoned me, freeing from the bane that is paperwork?” the being asked.

Constantine was momentarily thrown for a loop, but the Brit was able to right himself more quickly than any of the other heroes.

"We summoned you to make a deal. I'm offering my soul-"

"Let me stop you there." The King's smile was mocking. And probably terrifying to everyone else, given his fangs. His lichtenberg lightning marks spasming in a way that could be mistaken as agitation. "I know who you are, John Constantine. Many hold claim to fragments of your soul. But, even if that was not the case, I am the one who holds claim to all souls. As all souls have , and will, pass through the Infinite. Your soul holds no weight here. Neither does your mind or body. Do not bargain with them. And do not bargain with me. Simply tell me why it is you summoned me, as I already know what I want from you."

Constantine looked like he didn't know whether to be offended or not. But it seems fear won out, as well as desperation.

"Forgive me, please, your majesty. Trigon has threatened to destroy our universe, starting with Earth. We have summoned you here to ask that Trigon be forced to return to the Infinite Realms. Or, to at least be stopped from devouring our universe."

It was as if everything paused. The billow of the wind, crackling ice, the flicker of the candles, the shifting of the lightning scars and cape of stars.

"He has threatened... what?" Quiet, almost shocked, the words passed from the Ghost King's lips.

Lips which twisted into a snarl. Fangs elongated. Flickering candles became green blazes. Wind roared back into whipping gales. The King's body distorted with his rage. Unfathomable and nightmarish.

"He dares to Challenge me?!? My Rule? My Authority? He knows of how this world has those under my protection and, yet, still believes he can touch what is MINE?"

If Red Robin and Supernova hadn't already been exposed to this Eldritch madness and the Realms, frequently, they'd probably be near catatonic. Like the other heroes. Most were on the ground or leaning against something. Aquaman looked sea sick. Flash was shockingly still for once. Even Batman couldn’t handle the madness the King oozed.

Supernova can smell that at least two people have pissed themselves. Euwh. What an awful day to have a nose. Especially with his heightened sense of smell. Phantom could probably smell it too, though was uncaring in his rage.

At least Constantine was able to speak in the face of an angry Ancient who Rules the Infinite. His experience with powerful otherworldly beings that could end him at any moment coming in play.

"Please, let us know what deal it is you wish to make in order to have Trigon stopped. He will be here very soon."

"I want you to abolish the Anti-Ecto Acts and free the souls of my citizens, who were captured and experimented on under such heinous laws." Phantom turned to look at Red Robin and Supernova, who should have pretended to be affected like the others. As it stands though, they were standing there. Unshaken and unaffected. "There are those among you who have already worked to undo the damage. But they should not be forced to work alone. I want all of you to support them and my people you have wronged. I want my people returned, safe and sound."

Phantom was finally able to calm down as he spoke. Wind slowed down and candles went back to but a flicker. He turned back to look Constantine dead in the eyes.

"Make no mistake, I would have fought for the Earth, and this universe, the moment I was made aware of Trigon. I have my own reasons for protecting this world and its people. But I expect the same in return. In that you are protecting the health, well-being, and safety of your people? I must do the same. Free my people and erase the laws that allow your kind to hunt us for sport and science. This is not a deal, as it's my job to prevent my people from destroying the Balance. No, this is a warning. My people may question why I'd save yours, given these laws. My people want war. While I deal with Trigon, you will undo the mistakes of your government. Or else, banishing Trigon would be for nothing."

With that, the King left. Ice and the haunting aura leaving with him.

Constantine looked over at the two young men who stood, casual and unmoving. He, as well as every other person in the room, was still shaking. The whole situation called for a drink, or a dozen. But he knew that he needed to get everyone in order to fulfill their end of the deal. The Bat would just knock down any liquor once he was aware and the Anti-Ecto Acts were too important to deal with while drunk. Bullocks.

To be continued?

Note: Hoped you guys enjoyed that! @megasweetbone really out did themselves. Now the question is this a good place to finish? There isn't much more I would add but some aftermath so I want you guys to tell me if I should just leave it as is or not. Once it is finished I am going to ask the others who helped with the story ( @fanfics-or-dragons and @megasweetbones ) if I can post it on Ao3! After all I want to properly credit them so knowing if they have an account so I can add them as a guest writer or credit them another way. Tell me your thoughts in the comments!

-Gremlin

Edit: I have decide to post it on Ao3. If I decide to add anymore it will be in an epilogue or another story. Thanks for your support!

[wintersera]

beneath the facade || g!p giselle x f!reader

notes: WE ARE SO BACK !! aeri is just kinda obsessed with reader- she just doesn’t know how to process her emotions like that okay, be patient with her. based off this little drabble i did a while back

cw: possessive aeri, g!p aeri, crazy ass bullying, a lot of physical violence and threatening, blackmail, dubcon? humiliation, exhibitionism, voyeurism, a lil choking, degradation, words like “mutt/pup”, perv!aespa at the end

wc: 4k

giselle

academically gifted, rich as fuck, athletically talented- hell, even scarily strong and not to mention she was gorgeous. people wished to be with her or to be her. though, she has some setbacks. or well, quite a lot of them.

the bully, the devil in disguise, that bitch in class 301. all describing a certain specific woman, uchinaga aeri.

you, y/n l/n, were her primary target. not the opposite of her in every thing she excels at, but definitely on the opposite of the school's fear and popularity spectrum. she was on one end, you were on the other.

first year in and you ended up being the victim of bullying, executed by the one and only. you were just a mere transfer student, lucky enough to be accepted into a prestigious school because of a scholarship you worked your ass off for, but people didn’t appreciate the hard work of a civilised citizen, they only focused on how much your income was and if your parents owned multiple businesses and all that shitty snobby stuff rich people tend to flaunt around.

most students around found the presence of an unsightly commoner grotesque. hell, you looked the part, your shoes apparently weren’t high quality enough for their liking, and let’s not talk about the worn out backpack you wore to school 24/7…

to aeri, it was like comedy gold. you stood out like a sore thumb in the sea of the wealthy. she had never seen someone look so out of place and it brought her to tears, and not because she felt pity, but she thought it was too entertaining to watch your ass haul your way through the corridors.

it started at lunchtime on the first day you transferred. everyone had their own friend group, big or small, they at least had some friends to occupy them. you on the other hand had no one. not a friendly eye in sight. this in fact was a huge gamble, but it couldn’t hurt to make some acquaintances, so you spun your chair around to meet eye to eye with… her.

“hi, you’re uchinaga aeri right? i’m y/n do you-“

she scoffed, abruptly cutting you off, laughed at your expression as it contorted in confusion, grabbed her flask filled to the brim with water and poured all of the content onto your head. the ice cold water soaked your clothing, sort of exposed your bra a little.

“you’re funny. do you know who i am?” the corners of her mouth tugging up as she watches you shake due to the fact you were literally soaked with ice cold water, and because of the fear “watch who you talk to, mutt” abruptly rising from her seat to kick your chair causing you to slam hard into the cold floor. and now everyone's eyes were on you, murmuring amongst themselves, snickering, some even commenting about how pathetic you looked quivering on the floor. until aeri gave a glare that paralysed you and the others, a little reminder to everyone that this could happen to them.

oh, the teachers? helpless. with the amount of money she had she could bribe her way out of any situation, pull herself out of suspension, honestly she could buy whole school and it wouldn’t make a dent in her bank.

you went home that day feeling… strange. a large bruise on your arm hurt a lot obviously, yet you were reminiscing about what had happened a few hours ago, a shiver ran up your spine. not for the sane reasons though.

from then on, the scale got worse and worse, from making you her personal lackey, to threatening to blackmail you, physically assaulting you the next week and on the occasion dragging you somewhere to suck her off.

years of being tormented by mainly her and her clique, coined as ‘aespa’ — you thought it was rather funny how they named themselves rather than being named by students — eventually numbed the physical pain she’d inflicted. mentally and emotionally on the other hand it still sort of stung. she practically owned you whether or not you liked it and to make matters worse everyone knew you as, not your name, but as aeri’s servant, bitch, slave, pet, other derogatory names that come to mind, but she mostly called you mutt.

fast forward to now. you were currently in the last year of school. the typical school day for you consisted of class, aeri forcefully gripping your shoulder which usually meant that she wanted you to buy something for her, break, aeri and her clique finding a variety of ways to humiliate you- todays was quite mundane, a few clothes of yours missing after PE class… wonder who took them. the rest of the days were then filled with more classes and some peaceful studying in the library until aeri had showed up.

“y/n…” as soft as her voice was, her tone was terrifying.

“i’m talking to you, look at me.” this was the damn library, she couldn’t take YOUR safe space away from you “oh so now you’re being difficult” you chose to ignore her, per usual. you continued to jot down notes from the book you were studying, staring at it while she carried on talking.

in an instant her hand clasped your jaw, jerking your head to the side.

“ow- ow… okay what, what is it?” hissing at the pain.

“look at this” her phone screen shoved, almost, into your face, the bright screen showing a random ass screenshot from one student to another. the conversation from this random guy in class and this girl in the library who occasionally helped you. “who in this school would want to be with you?” ouch, that stung a little. she’s said some worse things, but that definitely hit close to home “i thought people would have some standards” she chuckled “that girl is ugly as fuck too. actually now that i think about it, you two suit each other perfectly.. oh and that perm, jesus christ, i might go and shave it off for her, what do you think mutt?” truth be told, you didn’t know her well enough for those screenshots to go around. who would make a stupid edit for the least popular person in school and the girl who’s constantly in the library.

yes, she was pretty. yes, she was smart. no you weren’t close. was aeri jealous? perhaps.

anyways, aeri’s mind wouldn’t be swayed so easily right? i mean, clearly it was a fake image— you could tell by fuckass editing.

“her? i like her… she’s been nice to me” although it was a library, the following silence was eerily strange coming from her loud ass. aeri’s the fussy type, she’d usually make a big commotion about anything really, especially if it was something to do with you and being a normal functioning person.

“…..” um? what’s with this deafening silence.

“come with me” her unnaturally unphased expression paired with the grip she had on your wrist made your stomach twist in anticipation. luckily it was after school hours. almost all of the students were gone around this time, some staying to catch up with homework, or doing club activities.

—

today the basketball members weren’t in, perfect for aeri… and her little clique. the three of them were already waiting diligently in the basketball teams’ changing room. ‘oh, its the usual’ you thought. one of them would push you over, kick you until you were bruised up and down and then snap, a pic of you would be taken. the pain was always unbearable but you always sucked it up, holding in your screams just so that they would end it quicker since you weren’t squealing and crying, which they loved to hear you do.

you guess today’s different. they were all sitting down on the bench, tapping away at their phones without realising that you were in the room. until aeri coughed, bringing their eyes towards her and not you. “you know what to do” her voice commanded you maliciously.

“alright…” who were you to deny her anyway, it was either that or a foot to the head. then your mother would get worried again, call the school and get humiliated by them once more, which you hated.

a deep breath, you tugged at your oversized sweater, looked at aeri- smiling and nodding. “fuck…”, you took it off swiftly, unbuttoning your top while you heard multiple camera shutters go off. the skirt was next to go; the sounds carried on.

there you stood, shamefully in the middle of the changing room “you know what would be funny y/n, sending these scandalous pics to that girl you like. she would love that… what do you girls think? do you think she would find our little mutt attractive?”

minjeong looked up from her camera, sucking a strawberry flavoured lollipop “can we do something else aeri? this is getting boring… tell me why we’re still keeping her around”

“shut the fuck up minjeong”

“jesus christ, alright…”

“yizhuo? jimin? your thoughts?”

yizhuo just nodded, a quick sadistic smile indicating that she thought the same way as aeri, even giggling at the thought. jimin couldn't care less, you guess it was from the lack of violence and the fact that your face was devoid of emotion, but she thought it would be best to keep aeri entertained..

“do whatever you want aeri. like minjeong said though, our toy is nothing but boring. can we do something exciting, something like… i don’t know, making her react in some sort of way? *any way??*”

“okay wait, that gave me an idea…”

nothing could’ve prepared you for what was going to happen next. aeri grabbed a handful of your hair, tugged you towards her, scalp burning from the pain.

“start recording. now” both of her hands now gripping your shoulder on each side, pushing you down to your knees. you winced at the pain shooting from your lower body and upwards. knees scrapping the hard floor as she manoeuvred you to her liking. legs buckling and trembling as you struggle to keep balance.

this caught the attention of the three girls, all eyes were on you. frightening, they had never been so disgustingly invested in you before. you found yourself in a situation that was way more nerve wracking than being seen naked by only aeri. you were vulnerable in front of her close friends, the very friends that haven’t seen you butt ass naked before. trapped in your own little mind, you didn’t render that her thick cock was pressed against your cheek. throbbing.

“suck it”

your eyes shot up to her, pleading with your eyes.

in front THEM? what the fuck.

“suck it whore” it’s important to note that aeri has severe anger issues, and clearly she can’t wait either. a spoilt rich kid like her always got her way as fast as it was humanly possible. quick to anger, she waisted no time in pleasuring herself. taking her hand to lower your jaw, forcing her length all the way down “mhm… use your tongue like you always do” her hands pushing your head closer to her, slowly making sure you feel every inch of her cock slide into your mouth until it hit the back of your throat “yeah… fuck- you’re so good when you’re not looking at me like you despise me” your eyes welled up and you couldn’t breathe, it didn’t help that her you were choking around her dick “c’mon… use your mouth, mutt” her patience running low, clicking her fingers at you to start moving, but you simply don’t “you- don’t start acting like you’re some innocent girl now, i know what you are. fucking disgusting pervert, i know you like being used like this, i know you’re soaked from the fact that you got yourself into this predicament” slapping your face with the palm of her hand “you keep acting like a bitch and i’ll—“

sparing yourself from a lengthy rant about how you’re a bitch and she could definitely find someone better, you start sucking on her cock obediently, your ‘innocent’ eyes looking up at her while you bob your head, exaggerating the sucking noise just to make her head spin. she hissed.

on the other hand, the girls watched in awe. all of them turned on by watching you take aeri. your face grew hot, but them watching didn’t distract you much. actually it encouraged you to go faster on her, quickening your pace as you let her grab a handful of your hair, urging you to take her even deeper than before. her head lolled back, eyes squeezing shut as she focuses on your tongue swirling around her length.

“my god… you’re so good pup, but let me… let me use you” again, she forces her cock in with a quick thrust ,which made you gag in return. she hummed, relentlessly using your mouth as if it was her own fuck toy.

you couldn’t even lie to yourself, you loved the way aeri treated you when she behaved all cocky and spoiled. as degrading as it was, the way she always manhandled you in the most disrespectful ways made you unbelievably horny, and this was just taking it to another level.

the other girls’ eyes kept on you and not their leader, watching how you took aeri’s huge cock down your throat, the way your bra strap was falling, the way your hair was all messed up and the way tears rolled down your cheeks making your face glisten with both tears and sweat. they kept recording, violating your privacy as their cameras zoomed in on your mouth being fucked mercilessly.

yizhuo couldn’t take it anymore, she wanted to join in on the fun. snaking a hand around your shoulder, feeling the heat radiating off your bare skin on the palm of her hand only to receive a painful slap that stung seconds after “what the fuck, am i not allowed to?” it was clear that aeri didn’t want to share you. she sucked air through her teeth, rubbing her hand while giving a dirty look at aeri.

“don’t touch what’s mine” you felt pride swell up, your plan sort of worked. getting her jealous was one of the best ideas you came up with… maybe you could test that out a little more.

aeri kept on going, speeding up thrusts as her high came closer “gonna- gonna cum…” her moans becoming higher, breath quickening, the grip on your head becoming painfully pleasurable, you could tell she was close by the way her eyes rolled to the back of her head “so good- you’re so fucking good puppy…” a few seconds pass and she lets out a long and satisfying groan followed by her taking her cock out of your mouth, spilling her cum all over your face. it took a few seconds of pure silence before her cock sprang up, harder than ever.

“fuck….” you turned to your side, wiping your cum soaked face to see all of the girls staring at you attentively, especially ning. her eyes were locked on your body, scanning your every curve, blushing ever so gently. you took this as an opportunity to test aeri’s jealousy. obviously it was a bad idea. if it worked then your little silly plan to test if she would act possessive, or not, would work. after all you knew that aeri had taken a liking to you back then. did it justify all the bullying? no, not in particular, but you could say you were a tad bit perverse for enjoying every single moment of it. though, you wouldn’t say that out loud. but if she wasn’t a possessive freak, then well ning could join in… and you didn’t mind that, you found her rather cute as well.

“ning~” you beckoned her with a sultry voice, half lidded eyes staring right back at her bringing her forward.

“m..me?” pointing at herself in disbelief “uh… i don’t think i should-“ through the corner of her eye she could see aeri’s gaze, watching her carefully to see if she would make any advances. you stared ning down, purposefully letting your bra strap slip from your shoulders.

this time aeri’s gaze fell on you. she stayed uncharacteristically silent, the sound of laboured breathing told you that your plan came to fruition. calming herself down she balled up her fists, gritting her teeth all while watching you seduce one of her close friends.

face hot with anger, aeri once again grabbed your wrists, only this time was her grip tighter than before “you’d slut yourself out to anyone wouldn’t you?” her voice low and still, whispering in your ear. seconds later you find yourself being pulled up from the ground, and then a few more seconds go by again and you were stripped from all your clothes, leaving you bare. as she stepped back to admire your body “show them how much of a nasty slut you are for me” she sat down and pulled you into her lap, spreading your legs wide enough for the three girls to see how wet you were for her. you whined at the feeling of her slim fingers playing around your clit. her ever so light touch drove you insane, so different from the times she would rub your clit fast and rough.

“wait.. wait… too slow” much to your shock, she was also thrown off guard. that cute and whiny begging made her want to… take care of you? kind of? she was conflicted all the while horny as hell.

rough or slow? rough... or slow... slow….

slow it was.

her fingers reached your mouth. knowing what she was like, you opened your mouth, wetting her fingers so that she could toy with your sensitive clit. god, she knew your body so well. how easy it was to make you crumble in her hands, how simple it was to make you obey her words whether or not it was a simple task or threat, how sensitive you could be when she did this one thing or another thing “this wet for me already puppy? i guess i don’t need to prep you or anything, huh? so wet and i only touched you lightly” you felt that all the way down to your core, the butterflies you felt in your stomach made you needier.

“please…” you could only muster up so much strength to plead.

“please what puppy? i won’t know until you tell me”

the drastic change between calling you a mutt to calling you a puppy caught the attention to the girls, they thought it was kind of cute, seeing a different kind of aeri was rare. they’d bring it up later to tease her relentlessly in the future, but for now it’s best to leave it alone since they didn’t want to get berated after.

“too weak to say it aren’t you… fine, i know what you want anyways” since you were already sitting on her lap, aeri had no difficulty adjusting herself.

her cock stretched you out and the position made it so that the very tip reached into places you would've never imagined. she was so hard, thick as hell and god was she big. christ, your past self never would have imagined how that could’ve gone inside “oh.. my god- you’re tighter than usual. does being fucked in front of people turn you on this much y/n? you’re making it so easy for me to.. mmhf- slide in and out” her arms were wrapped around your waist pulling you up and down instead of the usual “move yourself” or “beg for it”

in a way the change of how she used you was quite endearing, which was surprising although she was still technically using you as her toy, but less… cold heartedly? you guess. she’d never be the type to kiss your neck as she was balls deep into your pussy, but here she was doing the exact same thing. nuzzling into the crook of your neck giving the occasion bite or suck, tickling your brain and making your thighs shut.

both of you kind of forgot that there were three other girls in the room. too focused on each other to realise that they were still gawking… and they were also quiet as hell, they didn’t want to ‘disturb the peace’ so they opted into hearing the vulgar wet squelches as they tried so hard not to unzip their pants and join in on the fun.

“how… a-are you… still so tight? fuucck- your pussy feels amazing puppy” her thrusts deepen more than you thought it would, hitting spots you’d never knew felt this damn good. you couldn’t help but let out a shameless moan as she kept on fucking you rougher, but uncharacteristically slow.

“mm.. ngh- aeriii” you called out to her as you steadied yourself with your hand gripping her thigh. going slow wasn’t aeri’s forté. she usually was the type to go in fast and keep going faster until it would make you shout streams of curses and broken up versions of her name. you urged her to go quicker, moving your hips to get her attention but it seems like she was stuck in her own little world of pleasure “a-ah.. faster pleaseee-”

“pathetic and whiny.. lemme do what i want to do” under that dom girl facade, you knew all she wanted to do was cum inside, murmuring your name under her breath — which she was never aware of — but she held out.

what made her change her ways of dealing with you today was something you wouldn’t understand anyways.

“never mind, i’ll make sure not to break you this time” she bit down on your shoulder, close enough to draw out blood and rammed cock so hard and sudden that it squeezed out a yelp out of your lungs. you cried, begged her to slow the fuck down, but she wanted nothing more than to treat you like she had before, being a softie wasn’t her.

she was going too rough, too fast, but it felt too good not to tell her to stop. her breath quickening, her arms hugging your waist tightening, the frantic kissing along your neck covering it almost entirely with hickeys “fuckfuckfuck… i’m gonna cum so much- inside you.. mmhhm” with the last thrust she came, cum leaking down to the bench and a little getting on the floor. she knew you hadn’t cum yet. as much of an asshole she can be, she usually would make you cum if you didn’t before. her tired fingers reaching down to your clit, rubbing it in circles while she still rocks her hips — overstimulating herself while helping you reach your climax.

your eyes began to roll as she rubs faster, back arching as you feel the knot in your stomach form “aeri- oh god, aeri— feels too good” with her cock still inside of you, she felt your cunt squeeze down. still sensitive she jolts up, tip hitting the right spot as she does so. the pleasure from that and the pleasure felt from your clit drove you to your orgasm. a high pitched moan could be heard, although muffled, through the empty halls.

baffled, the three girls awkwardly stared at your limp body on top of aeri’s. it seems like you both had passed out after you’d both came.

“…jimin what do we do?” minjeong said as the panic set in “what if a teacher is coming to check up on us”

“i’ll wake aeri up-“

yizhuo interjects “no, bitch that’s a horrible idea. she’s gonna wake up grumpy as hell and them she’d start being all yap yap yap, you know”

“so you’d leave her to be found by either a teacher or the janitor? either way she’d get mad”

“well i’m sure as hell not waking her up, bye guys” minjeong leaving with a cheeky grin “ah plus-“ re-opening the door “i’ve got great pics of y/n, i’m gonna go home and beat it to her”

“can you send them?”

“jimin what the hell… send some to me as well minjeong”

a/n: FUCK i feel like i’ve lost the ability to write smut ya’ll 🙂 this is the best i could do in a long time

[btssavedmylifeblr]

Void - Part 10 - Wednesday

title banner by @rude–jude♡

Genre: Sci-fi with a little angst and a LOT of smut

Pairing: BTS x Reader (yup - all seven)

Summary: You are the only female crew member on a 12 year space mission with seven handsome men. The sexual tension is real, y’all.

Word Count: 1.9k

Part 9 /?

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

Warnings: very short chapter

Mercifully, Taehyung does not wake you up with a thumb in your mouth. You wonder if you will even see him today, given he only signed the form to hide his feelings for Jimin. 

You head straight for the greenhouse, determined to avoid Hoseok for as long as possible. Will you ever be able to face him again? Maybe you should start working nights.

Luckily, there’s plenty to do in the greenhouse and you manage to work all day without interruption. Dinnertime arrives and your stomach grumbles, but you procrastinate heading for the kitchen out of fear of who may be eating there. You can’t stomach bumping into any of the men you’re fucking or any of the men you aren’t.

At a little past seven o-clock, Taehyung sticks his head into the door of the greenhouse. He furrows his brow to see your hands covered in soil. “I thought we had a date?”

“Huh?” you ask, wiping the dirt from your hands onto your pants. “I thought that was pretend. For the benefit of the crew.” 

Taehyung laughs, stepping further into the greenhouse. “Well, some of it was, but I did actually make dinner.”

“You did?” You aren’t dressed for a date. Not that you have anything else to wear. Just a different slightly less dirty jumpsuit. At least none of your clothing is covered in semen today. Yet. 

Taehyung is wearing the same jumpsuit from the accident with the rover. It’s still missing a sleeve from where it was cut off of him. It’s quite flattering on him, no surprise. His exposed upper arm has just enough muscle definition to draw your attention. It’s still in the sling but the bruising has faded. The asymmetrical look with its rough unsewn edge makes him look rather roguish. 

“Come on! The food’s getting cold!” He ducks back out of the greenhouse, waving for you to follow him.

You clean your hands with a cloth and follow him. You're surprised when he veers away from the kitchen and heads for the hangar instead.

The overhead lights in the hangar are off. The room looks so different, it takes you a minute to process what you are seeing. The Europa rover sits in the middle of the room, glowing from the inside with soft blue light.  Scattered around the room are little twinkling lights of white and blue and green. 

“Taehyung!” you gasp. “What is all this?”

“A date!” he answers triumphantly. He clambors up onto one of the large wheels of the rover and opens the door. Even from a distance, you can see a white tablecloth covering the center console, topped with more twinkling lights. He reaches down a hand to help you up. “Your chariot, m’lady.”

“This is…” You are at a loss for words as you take his hand and climb up into the rover with him. “This is so…” You examine one of the twinkling lights on the make-shift table up close. It’s one of the LEDs intended for lighting your paths down on the Europa ice sheets. At least it was rechargeable. "Taehyung, this is so much work for a fake date.” 

Taehyung laughs. “Just because we’re not bumping uglies, doesn’t mean it can't be a real date. I like dates.”

He pulls out a reusable water bottle from behind one of the seats that makes a surprising pop when he opens it. Then he pours something golden and bubbly into two champagne glasses. 

Without thinking, you take accept glass as he hands it to you, then do a double-take. “Is this champagne? Where on Earth did you get champagne? Or champagne glasses?”

He laughs, enjoying your surprise, as he takes a sip from his own glass. “Unfortunately, it’s not the real stuff, just some apple juice I ran through the carbonator.” He clinks his glass to yours as you hold it, still suspended in shock. “The glasses are from Earth though. Packed them for a special occasion.”

He stares a bit wistfully at the glass in his hand and you get a little pang of sadness. “Were you planning this for Jimin?”

He looks up at you and shakes his head, waving your concerns away. “No, no, no. I did this for you.”

“For me?”

He nods. “I’m trying to make amends.”

You’re surprised. “Amends for what?”

He sighs. “For the tape, for the jealousy, I feel like…” He gestures around at the ship in general. “I feel like a lot of this is my fault.”

“What? No.” You shake your head. “This is my fault. I started all this.” 

Taehyung gestures to one side of the console table welcoming you to sit down. “It seemed like you and Jimin were happy though, until I broke my arm and messed everything up.”

“Yeah…” You sigh as you sit down across from him. You sip your fake champagne as you remember orgasming with Jimin inside you, but Yoongi’s voice in your head. “Mostly… but there was something missing…”

“Ah,” Taehyung gives a bit of a teasing smile. “A certain flight engineer, perhaps?”

“Yeah,” you shrug nervously, running your finger around the rim of your glass and teetering on the edge of admitting your real problem. “And not just him…” 

Taehyung nods knowingly. “We do have a devastatingly attractive crew, don’t we?”

“Yes!!” You exclaim, laughing in relief at someone who finally understands. “Why did you all have to be so fucking hot?!”

“All of us?” He places a hand on his chest in fake surprise. 

“Oh shut up, you know you’re hot.” The bubbles in your glass make you feel a little tipsy even if there's no alcohol in them.

Taehyung gives an exaggerated wink, then laughs. "You are very good at seeming uninterested in anyone though. I couldn’t believe how well you held it together when Jungkook stripped in front of you for that haircut.”

A lightbulb goes off. “Oh my god, you put him up to that, didn’t you?”

Taehyung bursts into delighted giggles and you smack him on his good arm. “You did! You maniac! Are you trying to kill me?”

“Not my finest moment, I will admit. Perhaps I had ulterior motives for throwing the hunk at you. Sorry. Just one of many reasons I owe you apologetic fake champagne.” He takes another sip and smiles as he recalls the memory. “Still, you kept your cool remarkably well. If it were me, I would have had his dick in my mouth well before the end of that haircut.”

Your mouth falls open. Fuck. That’s… that’s a very attractive mental image. Your pelvic muscles flinch with a twinge of arousal. 

Taehyung sees your surprise and his eyes widen. “Oh shoot, sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” He takes your glass from you and sets it down on the table, before turning to rummage with something in a cooler sitting under the seat next to him.

“Oh no.” You squirm in your seat. “I’m not… you didn’t…” you stammer. Fuck. What are you even trying to say? “I just didn’t realize you were attracted to Jungkook as well.”

Taehyung turns back to you and smiles. “I mean… how could you not be? That smile… those abs…”

You both sigh in unison, then laugh. “It’s deeply unfair,” you agree.

He nods, then wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “What’s deeply unfair is how you have this crew wrapped around your finger.”

“What? No I don’t.”

He arches an eyebrow.

“I don’t!”

He sips his apple juice skeptically.

“No seriously! Hoseok and Namjoon won’t have sex with me even though I practically begged them…” 

He shakes his head. “I still don’t think you realize the power you hold.”

“What power?”

“I saw that video you made with Yoongi. That was incredible. When you let go of all the fear and stress and were so open and vulnerable, that was beautiful. It’s no wonder they all love you.”

Something about hearing it from someone you’re pretty sure doesn’t want to have to sex with you makes you feel like it might really be true. But the whole thing is still too embarrassing and uncomfortable to think about for too long. 

“They’re not in love with me. They’re just… I don’t know… can we talk about something else?”

“Sure.”

Taehyung sets down two plates of what looks like fine dining. Red beets sliced thin and drizzled with balsamic vinegar and a rounded mound of rice pilaf topped with a whole chicken breast.

“My god, where did you get all this?”

He smiles, pleased with himself. “Jin helped me with a bunch of it. I’ve technically given up two of my Christmas dinners for this, but it seemed worth it.” 

You are shocked again that he would go to so much effort. “You didn’t have to do all this just for the sake of our pretend relationship…”

He reaches over the table to take your hand in his. “I do want a real relationship with you though,” he says and your heart starts racing. His dark eyes hold such warmth even as the rest of him is so statuesque. But then he draws back. “Even just as a friend.” he says and you’re a bit disappointed. 

The two of you chat the rest of the evening as you savor your meal, both relieved to find someone you can be honest with. 

At one point you offer to mend his jumpsuit sleeve for him, but he declines. “I like it," he says, shrugging. "Reminds me of important lessons."

You wait for him to elaborate, but he doesn't. "I suppose it is rather dashing," you admit, trying to fill the silence. "But I suppose you would make a dish towel look dashing." You can't even blame the fake champagne for your loose tongue.

His eyes widen in delight and he laughs as he pours the last of the bubbly apple juice into each of your glasses.

“So…” he says as you take a last bite of your dessert, a delicious chocolate cake designated for some future New Year’s Eve. “Fuck, marry, kill: Namjoon, Jimin, Yoongi.”

You gasp in horror. “Taehyung, I can’t answer that!”

“Too violent? How about fuck, marry, kiss?”

“No way, not answering.” You mime zipping your lips closed. 

“I’d marry Jimin, obviously.” He continues, undeterred. “And I think I’d have to fuck Yoongi. Those hands… my god.”

“Ugh…” Just the memory makes you groan and collapse onto the table in front of you. “Tae, he’s so good with them. It’s terrible. Those goddamn hands are what started this whole mess.”

Taehyung is pleased to have finally cracked through your facade. “Though the commander… he just carries himself like he has a big dick, you know?”

“Agh…” you groan again, laughing as you stand up. “I think that’s my cue to go to bed.”

“Allow me, m’lady.” He stands up and takes your hand to help you out of the rover. He’s still holding your hand as the two of you reach the floor of the hangar. 

“Thank you again for all this.” You gesture at the twinkling lights spread over the floor, looking especially lovely now that most of the ship has gone dark. 

“Would you mind a platonic goodnight kiss?” He asks, tapping his cheek.  

You bite your lip and shake your head, feeling a whole storm of butterflies in your stomach that do not feel platonic at all. He leans in and gives you a soft kiss on your cheek. “Thank you for a lovely evening,” he murmurs close to your ear.

“Same time next week?” you ask, trying to fight down how on fire your face feels now. “I’ll cook next time.”

He grins. “Looking forward to it.”

______

Thursday is next! And it's going to be dramatic. Hopefully it will be ready soon! Thanks for reading!

[heli-writes]

A dragon's heart, part 13.

Pairing: Barbarian!Bakugou Katsuki x female!reader

Summary: The dragonblood tribe is known for being cruel, barbarian warriors that slaughter, loot and rape all places they pass through. They are feared among the villagers and even bigger cities. Having lost most of their women to a plague, they're trying to ensure their tribe's survival by kidnapping women from other places. However, they're not the only monsters in human form out there. When y/n experiences this first hand, she has no choice but to ask for help from no other but the barbarian leader Katsuki Bakugou himself.

Disclaimer: mentions of injuries, mentions of rape and abuse, marking, trauma symptoms, trust issues

[Please don't read if you are sensible to or triggered by the topics mentioned above.]

Note:

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14

Series Masterlist

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Katsuki wakes up in a great mood. Yawning, he stretches his limbs. He feels a bit sore after last night's endeavors but he got a hella good orgasm out of it, so he doesn't feel like complaining. He stares at the ceiling of the tent with a big grin on his face. He's finally got a mate. And not just any mate, but y/n. In his mind, he replays some of the scenes when he had y/n bouncing on his dick drunk on pleasure last night. A warm tingle runs down his spine. Goddamit y/n looked so good beneath him.

He pats the space at his side in an attempt to find y/n but he only comes up with an empty space. He turns his head to see where his new mate is hiding only to see the other side of the bed empty. Sitting up, he furrows his brows. Where is she?, he thinks. Listening intently, he tries to locate y/n. Maybe she's taking a piss, he concludes and slowly gets up. Quickly, he pulls the discarded linen pants from yesterday over his butt and makes his way to the bathing hut. Without knocking, he enters the room.

That's where he finds y/n. She's leaning against the tub cowering on the floor. She's still butt-naked and dried blood clings to her neck and chest. Katsuki frowns. Didn't he take care of the mark? He remembers pushing a clean cloth against the wound to stop it from bleeding. For how long did she continue to bleed? Did she go in here in an attempt to dress the wound? Why didn't she wake him up?

„Hey, y/n.“, Katsuki calls out to her softly.

When y/n doesn't respond, he steps closer to her and crouches down to her level. „Y/n.“, he tries again. Carefully he touches her shoulder and tries to shake her awake. Y/n's head lolls to the side unconsciously. Katsuki can feel worry bubble up in his chest. He touches her hand. She's ice cold. Did she spend the entire night here on the floor?, he wonders worriedly.

Carefully, he picks her up and carries her back to the bed. Softly, he lays her down and pulls the warm, soft fur blankets over her. As he pulls the blanket up to her collarbone, his gaze lingers on the fresh bite mark on her neck. Again, he furrows his brows. The wound has an unnatural red-violet colour. The tissue is clearly inflamed and infected. Carefully, he reaches up to the wound. Y/n flinches at his touch. By now the wound should start to heal and it also shouldn't hurt anymore.

Absent-mindedly, Katsuki touches his own neck. Usually, mates mark each other during their first night together. He doesn't blame y/n for not returning the favor last night. He hoped they would do it again in the morning and y/n would finally make him hers. It's not uncommon for a mate to be overwhelmed with emotions both mentally and physically during the marking. Considering y/n is an outsider, he kind of already expected it.

Katsuki keeps staring at y/n's neck. He's unsure what to do. Mate marks are not treated as wounds. They're left to heal by themselves. Creams and bandages that could help the healing process also usually lessen the scarring. And mate marks are meant to scar. Having a very prominent mate mark proved having a strong mate and a strong bond. That's why he put all his force behind marking y/n last night. He wanted to prove to her that he is the best mate she could wish for.

However, right now he doubts this practice. The wound looks bad and his instinct tells him to rub alcohol on it. Katsuki chews on his lips. Maybe he should also let the healer look over this. He's never heard of a case where mate marks get infected. Eventually, Katsuki decides to clean the wound and put a bandage on it. It's against the practice of his tribe, but he puts y/n before tradition. He looked forward to showing y/n around the tribe today and letting everyone see the great mark he left on her. Somehow he doubts that y/n is going anywhere today. Clearly, she needs rest.

Katsuki stays around for a while massaging y/n's feet and legs in an attempt to warm her up. When he's sure that y/n is warming up a bit and that she won't be waking up anytime soon, Katsuki leaves her to slumber. After getting himself some breakfast and catching up with some of his men, he returns to y/n's side. He takes some fruit and bread along with him. Y/n must be hungry after everything that happened yesterday.

When Katsuki enters the tent again, he notices that y/n is still asleep. For a moment, he ponders on whether or not to let her sleep. Eventually, he decides that she can nap later. He puts the food on the nightstand and pours y/n a glass of water. Then, he sits down at y/n's side of the bed. Carefully, he leans over to her. Gently, he strokes some stray hair out of her face and caresses her cheek with his thumb.

„Y/n, wake up.“, he calls out to her softly, „I've brought you breakfast. Don't you want to get up?“

For a moment, y/n doesn't react. However, when Katsuki starts scratching her head lightly, she begins to stir. Katsuki feels oddly relieved upon seeing her gain consciousness again. Y/n stirs and twists uncomfortably in the bed sheets. She turns to her side, away from Katsuki. Katsuki watches her with worried eyes.

The world appears infront of her in a haze. Sight and sound appear distorted to her until everything slowly becomes clearer. Her whole body feels sore and there's a biting pain that shoots up her neck. It takes a moment for her to recall what had happened last night. Then, she remembers. Pleasure. Katsuki. His lips on her neck. Then, his teeth sinking into her.

Y/n bolts up at the memory, almost colliding with Katsuki's head that loomed over her. Katsuki retreats immediately when y/n sits up. Her hand flies to her neck, touching the wound he left behind. Y/n lets out a sharp hiss. It must feel as painful as it looks, he guesses.

„Y/n.“, he says carefully. Something tells him the next few moments will be important for them.

Y/n's head flies around and her eyes meet his. Her eyes widen. Then, she scrambles away from him, to the other side of the bed. She pulls the blanket with her trying to cover herself. He can see how her breathing and heartbeat pick up. This time not in pleasure, but in fear. His heart aches.

„Y/n... what's going on? What did I do?“, he asks her. He tries to sound calm and quiet. He doesn't want to scare her away. When y/n doesn't react, he tries to reach out to her, to touch her cheek softly but y/n roughly pushes his hand away.

„Go... away...“, y/n's voice sounds hoarse. The look in her eyes is blank. Katsuki doesn't understand what she says but he doubts it's a profession of love. He pushes his hand through his hair. Worry overcomes him. This is not how he thought their first day together as mates would be. „Y/n...“, he tries again and reaches out to her.

„Go away!“, y/n yells louder while using her foot to push Katsuki's hand away. Katsuki watches her for a moment. There's something behind her eyes now. Fire? No, spite. Katsuki leans back and sighs. There's a lump forming in his throat and his eyes itch. There's no use talking to her now.

He watches her for another moment, just as she is watching his every move. He guesses she watches him for very different reasons though. She looks at him like prey watches its predator, calculating when the blowing kill comes, when it's the right moment to take flight. Slowly, he gets up. He places the fruit and water next to her.

„Eat.“, he tells her. He's sure that's a word she has picked up. He turns his back to her and looks for some clothes for her to wear. When he found some, he gently places them at the edge of the back. He points at the bathing hut.

„I'll heat up some water for you. To take a bath.“, he tells her.

Then he gets up to leave her be. He sees she doesn't want him around right now. He will leave her for now in hopes that she will calm herself.

~*~*~*~

Finally, he's gone. Y/n relaxes a bit when Katsuki leaves the tent. Her eyes wander to the water Katsuki put in her reach. Greedily, she grabs the cup and chugs down the cool liquid. By now, her head is pounding as is the wound on her neck. She wishes she had a mirror to see how bad it really is.

Y/n leans against the headboard and replays what happened yesterday night in her mind. Everything was fine, more than fine, until Katsuki sunk his teeth into her.

„Gods...“, y/n groans and rubs her face. What on earth was Katsuki thinking? Who does this kind of thing? What is wrong with these people?

She remembers how Katsuki eventually let go of her. There are very vague images of him tucking her in and snuggling into her afterward. Clearly, he did not see anything wrong with what he did. She remembers lying awake for some time. She can't even remember how long she must've laid there. Time was a construct that didn't exist at that very moment. She waited until Katsuki was deep asleep until she slipped out of bed and stumbled into the bathing hut.

She felt like throwing up. She felt the wet blood on her neck and chest. His spill clinging onto the inside of her thighs. She tried washing both of it away but the water was ice cold and her hands were going numb. She remembers sliding down at the side of the tub. Crying. Panicking. Wishing she'd be dead instead of here.

Y/n shivers at the memory. She doesn't want to be dead. Things must've been really bad when those were the thoughts that crossed her mind. She touches the inside of her thighs. His dried spent still clings to her skin. Suddenly, she feels disgusted. Not of herself, but of him. How could he not understand when she told him to stop? No matter the language, when someone screams at the top of their lungs in fear, one must notice it. Was he so drunk on pleasure? She wouldn't put it past him.

Slowly, she tries to get up. Her legs feel wobbly and for a moment she's afraid that they won't hold her weight. Carefully, she stumbles into the bathing hut. The hut is warmer than it was last night. She notices how hot water drips through a pipe into the bathtub. She stumbles closer and lets her hand touch the warm water. After using the chamber pot, she steps into the hot water. She hisses as she sits down. For now, she refrains from using the nice soaps and oils that are placed next to the tub. She doubts it will be good for the wound on her neck. In careful movements, she washes away the grime, blood, and semen from her body. Lastly, she tries to clean the wound. It burns as she dabs a clean cloth against it. Eventually, the pain gets so bad that she gives up cleaning the wound.

After giving her hair a good wash, she steps out of the tub and dries herself off. She puts on the clean clothes Katsuki left behind for her. After looking for some rubbing alcohol and fresh bandages to no avail, she gives up and settles on the bed again. She presses a clean cloth dipped in cool water against the wound on her neck and tries to figure out what to do next.

Somehow she doubts that Katsuki tried to kill her last night. Firstly, if he wanted to kill her, he would've been successful. Y/n cannot take on Katsuki in a fight. Secondly, she doubts that what happened last night happened due to Katsuki's ill intent towards her. Absolutely nothing that happened beforehand, or afterwards for that matter, hints towards Katsuki being cross with her. She saw the worry and hurt in his eyes when she woke up. Which makes what happened yesterday a bigger mystery to her.

Why on earth would you hurt someone so badly while being intimate with them? Katsuki was so soft and loving with her. The way he touched her, the way he made her feel... Y/n quickly shakes her head at that thought. She doesn't want to remember how good he made her feel. Right now she wants to be angry with him. For hurting her like this, for not listening to her. Or at least not noticing her.

She wants to blame him, she really does. But ultimately, everything leads back to her poor decisions. She was angry with him yesterday, for deciding things over her head. And instead of being cautious of him, she jumps into bed with him. Should she really be surprised at how this turned out?

She sighs and dips the cloth into the cool water again. Pressing it against her neck, she slides under the covers again. She pulls them over her head and hopes they would swallow her whole. Take her back to her mother's bed where she hid under the covers when a storm raged outside their tent.

Maybe for a while, she could pretend to be there instead of the place she chose to be in right now.

~*~*~*~

Katsuki is not sure what to do next.

After he poured y/n a hot bath, he's standing outside his tent lost in thought. He tries to come up with something he could do for y/n, to make her feel better. He hasn't got much time to dwell on this question. Soon, his men spot him and drag him back to the war tent where he's forced to listen to a bunch of questions and make a bunch of decisions concerning their tribe. He postpones all raids until the near future. He decides that treating their men and strengthening their numbers is a priority right now. He sends small hunting parties into the mountains and adjacent forests to gather food.

When he's worked through most of his men's concerns, he slumps down onto a seat. He massages his temple. He can already feel a headache starting to form.

„Yo, Bakugo, my man. You ok?“, Kirishima asks him uncertainly.

Katsuki didn't notice that his best friend was still in the room.

„Yeah, I'm fine.“, he grumbles and gets up. Kirishima gives him a look that says I-am-not-so-sure-about-that. Katsuki ignores him and steers towards the exit. He doesn't want to talk to Kirishima right now. Unlucky for him, his friend looks right through him and gets a hold of his arm.

„You know, it's not good for the tribe when his leader is somewhere else with his thoughts whilst making important decisions.“, Kirishima condemns him.

„I'm not somewhere else with my thoughts!“, Katsuki snaps at him and pulls his arms free. Kirishima is quick to block the exit of the tent.

„I get it, dude. There are a lot of heavy decisions to make. If you ask me, so far you're doing good. Some men might not like you restricting our tribe's activity outside our territory, but it's the right thing to do right now.“, Kirishima tries to encourage him.

Katsuki groans and turns away from his friend. He does not want to talk more politics with him.

„Or is this about something else?“, his friend says uncertainly.

Damn this Kirishima, why is he so quick about catching onto things?, Katsuki thinks. When Katsuki doesn't answer him, Kirishima is quick to press on about it.

„Is this about y/n?“, his friend asks. Katsuki rolls his eyes and grabs a cup. He doesn't even know what's in it, but he quickly chugs the liquid down.

„Because we heard you last night. Well done, dude!“, Kirishima grins and pats his arm. Katsuki is quick to push his hand off of him.

„Shut up, Kirishima!“, he barks at him and the red-haired man looks at him stunned.

„So... it's not good then?“, Kirishima guesses.

Katsuki doesn't look at his subordinate. He is weighing his options here. He could tell him and ask for advice. Kirishima seems to be better with the ladies than he is. Even though things between him and his mate aren't ideal either. Then again, Kirishima is a giant blabber mouth and telling him could mean telling the entire tribe. That's the last thing he needs. He takes a deep breath.

„No, it's not good.“, he tells him. Kirishima is quiet for a moment before carefully asking: „Why that? She didn't like it?“

Katsuki scoffs.

„I don't know. I thought she liked it. Until this morning. She looked... disturbed.“, he says getting more quiet at the end of his sentence.

„Why that? Did your enormous dick scare the shit out of her?“, Kirishima grins and Katsuki is quick to hit his friend's arm with his fist.

„It's not funny, Kirishima! This is serious!“, he barks at him. His friend gets quiet and a concerned look on his face.

„Walk me through it. What happened?“, Kirishima asks more solemnly. Katsuki scratches the back of his head.

„Dunno... Yesterday was fine. We enjoyed our time together. I marked her, tucked her in and we went to sleep. This morning, I found her in the bathing hut, all cold 'n shit. The wound on her neck looks fucking bad, dude.“, he tries to explain. He can see how his friend has trouble keeping up with his explanation.

„Alright...“, Kirishima says and ponders about it for a moment, „How bad looks the mark?“

„Inflamed, infected.“, Katsuki tells him.

„My mate's mark also took some time to heal. A lot longer than a mate mark usually takes to heal. Maybe it's because they're outsiders. If it's really bad, let a healer take a look at it.“, Kirishima tells him.

Katsuki snorts. He doesn't want another person to look at y/n's mark. Well he does, but he wants others to look at it in awe. He doesn't want others to know that it's not going the way it's supposed to go.

„Hey“, Kirishima puts a hand on his shoulder, „If it's really infected, this is not something to be taken lightly. An infected wound can be dangerous. Do you really want to put y/n's health on the line just because it would make you look bad?“

Immediately, Katsuki feels bad. He remembers the promise he gave to Drami. He wants to be a good mate and he definitely doesn't want y/n to suffer. He wants her to be happy and healthy. Pushing off his friend's hand, he agrees with him Kirishima flashes him a toothy grin.

„See, she'll be fine. Her mark will heal and things will be alright!“, he tries to cheer up his grumpy friend. Katsuki's facial expression still looks worried. After a moment Katsuki carefully asks him:

„How did she look at you? The day after I mean?“

Kirishima is taken aback at this question. They rarely talk about his mate. It's a touchy subject Katsuki usually knows to avoid. Kirishima sighs and sits down next to his friend.

„I mean... things were different for us. She was chosen for me and... I don't know, I did what had to be done. I don't have to tell you that she didn't exactly... want it.“, Kirishima waves his hand infront of his body.

„All of this. Me. Truth is, she probably despised me the day after. Maybe she still does, I don't know.“, Kirishima's shoulders slump down.

„I do my best. I want to be a good mate to her. But it's hard when the other person doesn't want to be with you.“, Kirishima becomes more quiet at the end.

Katsuki remains silent as well. He doesn't know what to tell his friend. After all, he was the one who chose the woman for his friend. He's the reason why Kirishima is feeling miserable with his mateship.

„But hey,“ Kirishima claps his friend's back, „I'm sure it's different for you two! I've seen the way y/n looks at you! She's smitten with you!“

Katsuki stays silent for a while.

„What if she isn't? She barely could look at me today. And not in the I-am-shy-because-we-just-did-it kind of way. More like she was scared of me. Maybe even resentful.“, he confesses to his friend.

Now it's Kirishima who doesn't know what to say for a moment.

„Are you sure? I mean did you give her any reason to be scared or angry with you?“, Kirishima asks carefully. He knows how explosive and rude his friend can be. Katsuki scoffs.

„I've told you what happened. Everything was fine last night and today she wakes up being all shitty towards me!“, Katsuki barks back. Kirishima takes no offense to his friend's tone. He can see the worry on Katsuki's face. He's sure his friend is just hurting.

„Maybe it's because of the wound. Pain can twist someone's mood. Maybe she blames you for her pain.“, Kirishima says carefully.

„Why would she?!“, Katsuki exclaims. Kirishima looks at his friend for a long while. Is he really this oblivious?

„Because you're the one that hurt her?“, he tells his leader carefully. This shuts Katsuki up for a moment.

„I didn't mean to hurt her“, Katsuki says quietly. Kirishima can see regret forming in his friend's face.

„I just wanted to give her the best mate mark I could give. Something she could be proud of.“, he mumbles under his breath. Kirishima catches onto it. He pats his friend's back understandingly.

„You sure that she got that? She's an outsider, remember.“, Kirishima tells him compassionately. Katsuki's ears perk up.

„Do you think that she thinks I hurt her on purpose?“, Katsuki says and Kirishima shrugs.

„I don't know much about outsider's mating traditions, so I wouldn't take my word for it.“, Kirishima replies.

Kirishima pushes himself up again and he pats his leader's shoulder. „Let's go to the healer's tent. We've got to check up on our injured men anyways and you can ask a healer to take a look at y/n.“, he tells his friend. Katsuki nods and gets up as well.

Internally, he's already making plans on how to make up with y/n. He can't have his mate running around thinking he wants to hurt her.

~*~*~*~

Katsuki returns to their tent after y/n has woken up from her nap. She's just changed the cloth one more time when Katsuki, Kirishima and an older man enter the tent. Immediately, y/n is on high alert. What on earth is Katsuki planning this time? Her eyes immediately dart around the room looking for a suitable weapon. Luckily, there are many to choose from Katsuki's collection. She manages to grab a silver dagger and hides it behind her back, pressing herself against the headboard of the bed.

Katsuki enters the tent first lying eyes upon y/n who presses herself against the back of his bed. There's a wild look in her eyes. He's not sure whether it's fear or anger. Or maybe both. He gestures for the two men to wait by the entrance. Kirishima entangles the healer in a conversation to give Katsuki some kind of privacy.

Katsuki walks closer to y/n and sits down at the edge of the bed. Y/n holds his gaze. She definitely looks angry, Katsuki determines. He moves his hand towards her neck but y/n catches his arm, holding his wrist in a strong grip. Her eyes flicker towards the other two men. She's contemplating threatening Katsuki with the hidden dagger.

„Y/n.“

Her gaze flickers back to Katsuki who is still looking into her eyes. He says something and points towards the wound on her neck. With his other hand, he carefully pulls away the cloth that covers the wound. Upon seeing the wound, his expression sours. At least he feels bad seeing his work, y/n thinks.

Katsuki turns around and says something to the men waiting on the other side of the room. He moves away and y/n relaxes a bit. Katsuki steps away and makes room for the older man he brought along. The man puts down a basket and asks y/n something. Katsuki answers for her. The man keeps his eye locked on the wound on her neck. He doesn't move to touch her. Katsuki tells the man something and the man starts taking out medical supplies out of the basket.

Y/n sees fresh bandages, cloths, a salve and a small bottle with a translucent liquid in it. It's probably alcohol, she thinks. Did Katsuki really bring someone here to treat the very wound he created? She moves away when the healer tries to touch her neck. She doesn't want anybody touching the wound. She notices how Katsuki gets angry at her being unwilling to let this stranger treat her wound. This, in return, makes her angry. She trusted him to touch her and where has this gotten her? Why should she let a stranger touch her? When the man moves to touch her again, she finally pulls the hidden dagger from its hiding place and holds it to the man's neck.

„Don't fucking touch me!“, she hisses at the man. She almost pities the man and his shocked expression. Clearly, the man was here to treat her wounds and not to hurt her further. He means no harm and it's probably unfair that she holds a dagger to his pulse point right now. She's not sure why she does it. Clearly, her wound needs treatment.

„Y/n!“, Katsuki's voice booms through the tent. He's fuming. How can she humiliate him infront of their head healer? Kirishima snickers behind him.

„It's not funny, Kirishima.“, he barks at his friend.

„Wel... it's a little bit funny. Seems like your mate is as thickheaded as you when it comes to getting their wounds treated.“, Kirishima points out.

Meanwhile, the healer doesn't dare to move a muscle. Y/n looks as if she's serious about ramming that dagger in his neck. Kirishima pushes past Katsuki. Carefully, he puts his hand on y/n's and pushes her hand down.

„Now, now, y/n, let's keep this civil.“, he tells her. The healer sighs in relief when y/n lowers her hand.

„I don't want strange men touching me!“, y/n yells even though she knows none of the men will understand her.

Kirishima looks at her with pity and y/n can feel her face become red with shame. She must look like a cornered animal and it makes her sick. Kirishima gestures for Katsuki to follow them outside. The three men leave the tent again. The medical supplies stay on the bed with y/n.

Y/n can feel hot tears burning behind her eyes but she refuses to let them flow. She must already look pitiful enough. Instead, she reaches for the medical supplies. She pours the rubbing alcohol onto a clean cloth. She moves to put it on the wound and hisses when the harsh liquid comes in contact with the inflamed tissue. The pain is blinding. She forces herself to keep her hand in place. The wound must be cleaned. It's probably already too late and an infection is forming, but still. Finally, she can feel tears streaming down her face. The pain is just too much. She pants in paint and starts rocking back and forth in an attempt to distract her from the pain.

Y/n doesn't notice how Katsuki enters the tent again or how he watches her attempting to clean the wound. She also doesn't notice how Katsuki's face contorts in pain as well. Not physical pain, but emotional pain upon seeing his mate so miserable. He hates seeing her like this. It's even worse knowing that he caused this.

Katsuki moves towards her and sits on the bed again. Y/n is so blinded by her pain that she doesn't notice how close Katsuki is. Only when Katsuki touches her wrist, does she jolts back in surprise. Upon seeing Katsuki, she tries to move away from him but Katsuki keeps her locked in place. Her chest rises heavily upon being so close to him again.

„Y/n“, Katsuki says softly, „Just let me take care of you.“

Y/n stares at him in bewilderment but doesn't move away anymore. Katsuki lets go of her wrist and takes the cleaning cloth from her. He pours more alcohol on it and moves towards her neck. Y/n flinches away.

„I know it hurts, love, but we gotta clean it.“, he mumbles and moves towards her neck again.

Y/n's hand flies towards his other hand. She grips it tightly. Her nails dig into the back of his hand. She looks at him pleadingly. Katsuki just shakes his head. In a swift movement, he puts the alcohol-drenched cloth onto the wound again and y/n lets out a howl in pain. She curls forward and Katsuki pulls her against his shoulder. Katsuki dabs the cloth onto the wound cleaning it properly. He can hear y/n cry and convulse in pain and his heart feels heavy. He never meant to hurt her, he just wanted to fulfill his promise and be a good mate.

When he's done cleaning the wound he applies the salve the healer brought along and wraps a clean bandage around her neck. Y/n doesn't make any attempt to push him away or murder him with his own dagger. He places her head back on the pillow when he's done. Y/n looks exhausted and pale. Katsuki touches her forehead. He imagines that she's slightly warm.

He brings y/n another cup of water and forces her to drink it. Y/n only drinks half of it before moving away. Katsuki puts the cup away and keeps looking at her. He doesn't know what to say or to do. It's unlike him. He's the leader. He always knows what to say. But when it comes to y/n everything is so much more complicated. It's like she claws away the surface and lays open the deepest parts of him. Parts he refuses to acknowledge exist. It's unfit for the leader of the dragon blood tribe to be this vulnerable.

„Y/n“, he calls out to her softly. Y/n doesn't meet his eyes. Carefully, he touches her cheek. She doesn't resist this time. She only looks at him with soft, sad eyes. He can see tears shimmering behind them.

„Shit“, he mumbles, „I really screwed up, didn't I?“

He moves his hand from her cheek to her hair and strokes it lightly. Tears spill over and Katsuki doesn't bother wiping hers away. Who is he to console her now? Y/n says something to him. He doesn't need to understand it. Whether it's a question or an accusation, it probably holds the same meaning. You did this to me.

„I only wanted you to be proud to have me as your mate, I swear.“, he mumbles as he keeps stroking her hair. Y/n ferociously wipes her tears away. For a moment, Katsuki wonders what she would do if he pulled her close right now. The next moment, he doesn't care what she would do. May you stab me with that dagger, I don't care.

Katsuki moves to lie down next to her. He's lying on the edge of the bed. He pulls her close burying his nose in her hair. Gently, he keeps stroking her hair and arms. Y/n makes no attempt to move away. Eventually, she turns around and stares into his eyes as if she's looking for something. Katsuki doesn't know what to give her. He keeps holding her until she falls asleep again.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Tag list: @graviewaviee @cosmicbreathe @tsukikoxo @nnubee @witchbishsblog @elajede @bsallergy @frxcless @berryvioo @eyesforbkg @shamelesjaroflaffytaffy @pastelbaby1111 @iamlizardgod @plvt0fvtvre @hello-peanutdoodle-blog @kookiemyfeelsposts @sweetblueworm @54fangirl @sakurarr1122 @rv19 @leeliyah @king-dynamight @confused-smol-fan @xmaudx @waterstarz @pinkwhiskerglitter @adeline96 @zoom1374 @fingui @giuli-in-earth @colouringfrogssittinginleaves @futuristicallykawaiiturtle @tragedyofabrokensoul @dynakats @rebel-loves-anime @cloudxluv @itsssyagurll @sunshineandwitchery @cloudxluv @hollykanuki @atouchofmidnight @nutellaenjoyer @musicbecky @miacitocco @cassouandco @penguinlovestowrite @sleepykittycx @bakugouswh0r3 @xxjesshuxx @helenamaximoff @ssssssws-world @k1tk4tkatsuki @gh0stgirl333 @anon-mouse223 @bexxs @i-am-ms-rebel-heart @wannabeisekai @spragaraga @faemagic88 @kolakoke @faetoraa @cax-per @willy-the-witch @stardream14 @jiyuu-da @mintytalesblog @sparklyoperaroadpie @musicbecky @maria-patricia @mistermemister @katsukismrs @l0kisbitch @bakukiriswife @rebel-loves-anime @drink-water-456

[Please comment beneath the last update if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters]

[circeyoru]

Collection of Overlords _ Part 1.5

[Alastor & Other Overlords x Soul Owner of All Overlords!Reader]

Part 1 — Part 1.5 (here) — Part 2 — Part 3 — Part 4 — Part 5 — Part 6 — Part 7 — Part 8 — Part 9  — Part 10 — Part 11 — Part 12 — Part 13

Okay, I think this needs to be set clear before there are future parts since no one asked about Reader’s/your presence in the show was. While you never made a formal appearance until in Part 1, which is after the battle with Heaven, you were hinted here and there.

Pilot: 

The beginning scene where Carmilla opens the curtains, showing Zestial, Zeezi, and Lucifer in the same. Then the scene of the Vees, and Rosie. There are eyes staring at them. Like just eyes

When the clock tower resets the extermination day, eyes opened to eye the new countdown before closing just as fast

During when Vaggie talks about “ancient and destructive evils”, your outline as a puppeteer is shown above all the Overlords

Episode 1: Overture

N/A

Episode 2: Radio Killed the Video Star

Alastor laughs at Sir Pentious that seeking to join the Vees was a terrible decision since their standing as Overlords was rocky and unstable. He taunts that Sir Pentious wouldn’t be able to hold the title as Overlord or fit in, referencing the Collection of Elites

Episode 3: Scrambled Eggs

After Zestial and Alastor were done with their chat like on the show, Zestial remarks that Alastor was very brave to go missing for 7 years but also remarkable that he was still in the Collection as per the mark on his soul

When Overlords are seated, they inspect the others to make sure the group was still intact and without change. Also reporting that there was no sighting or word from you, to their disappointment

After Velvette left, Zeezi laughed that the Vees’ days might be numbered with that attitude, Rosie chuckles and shrugs, saying that it wasn’t their decision or say in the matter

When Whatever It Takes is done, Zestial suggests for Carmilla to contact you on the matter since this was out of her hands. Carmilla sit back down on her chair, holding out a pendant with an eye design on it

The Egg Boiz reported to Alastor that Carmilla was the one to kill the angel and that she may contact someone, telling Alastor that Carmilla might have someone to back her up without knowing that Alastor know who it was implying

The same Egg Boiz didn’t mention you to Sir Pentious and only Carmilla killing an angel

(behind the scenes: you instructed for Carmilla to continue as always and maybe provide help to the hotel if she deemed it worthy)

Episode 4: Masquerade

When Valentino is offering a place for Charlie to star, he mentions how it could make him rich and show his dues to you without specifically mentioning you. Valentino’s a bit condescending when he addresses Charlie because he only sees you to be the one in higher power and rank

Valentino threatens Angel, hinting how he wouldn’t have some weak Princess or contracted soul ruin things for him. Meaning he is aware that he’s on thin ice with your interest and favour. Also implying that Charlie was nothing for him to fear, because he fears your wrath more

Valentino laughs how Charlie has no real power compared to what he faced with, confusing Angel since he has no idea of your involvement in the Overlords’ circle

While Husk was mentioning about his Overlord status, for the first time you’re mentioned, he talks about The Collector. “But when you’re dealing with souls while also being a gambler, the stakes are pretty high. I was warned about that, but when you’re winning, you don’t hear that kinda stuff. In my place, I lose a few hands and it got dangerous that I didn’t even know. When you’re down on your luck, you turn to anything to keep you afloat. Even making deals yourself.”

“What happened?”

“Turns out, I was long abandoned. And I wasn’t in the group anymore when I have that last deal. Like the fallen Overlords before me, I was hunted for being disrespectful and arrogant. Now I’m here.”

Episode 5: Dad Beat Dad

“Big talk for someone who’s also on a leash.”

“I should have torn your soul apart and broadcasted your screams for every other disrespectful wretch who dares to abuse My Liege’s mercy and generousity! You were lucky your former Liege was merciful enough not to let your death happen.”

When Lucifer’s lecturing on Charlie about the hotel, he mentions how it lacks the power and authority needed to make it work. It’s referencing to you teaching Lucifer how to rule as the King of Hell when he first arrived

Episode 6: Welcome to Heaven

N/A

Episode 7: Hello Rosie!

(behind the scenes after Vaggie left, Carmilla grips on the pendant and hopes she did the right thing that wouldn’t disappoint you)

Episode 8: The Show Must Go On

The the Vees celebrate, they explicitly cheer for joy and anticipation that Alastor would be removed from the Collection of Elite while eyes were staring at them without their knowledge, also mentioning how they’d rise in ranks (favour)

Alastor’s breakdown is more centered around the possibility that he knew you were always watching and saw his defeat and shameful retreat, for his actions, he might fall from your interest and favour. He fears he’ll end up like Husk

When the news of the canceled extermination is being broadcasted to all of Hell, your silhouette was shown by a window with eyes closed and a small smile on your face. “Time to check in.”

Note: You can ignore this or not, but I had to at least put this out cause some Overlords' actions are a bit different, namely Alastor's breakdown reason.

Circe Y.

Other Works: MASTERLIST

Taglist:

@aconfusedwonderland @crowleysthings @donustellaron @mistpurpl3 @plutobots @ray-rook

[bountydroid]

Darlin' pt 8

pt 1 / pt 2 / pt 3 / pt 4 / pt 5 / pt 6 / pt 7 (SMUT) / pt 9

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x f!reader (Romance)

Description: Cooper and Reader enjoy SuperDuperMart.

TW: Mentions of bad parenting and emotional abuse, mentions of sex but no smut.

The next couple of days felt like pure bliss. We spent our time exploring SuperDuperMart, finding endless supplies. I even finally was able to change my clothes into something cleaner. It was surprising that the place was not more ransacked than it was. Maybe it was the location that protected it. Eventually, I had Cooper move the bodies away from the couch and into a different room. During the act, I was too distracted to mind, but the idea of having sex next to them bothered me. The flickering lights and the decrepit couch started to feel like home, someplace we could stay forever. The large supply of Jet would have him set for a long time so he no longer needed to worry about making money to survive. 

More often than not, we ended the days wrapped up in each other, naked on the couch. Bit by bit, Cooper started to open up to me more. Telling me bits and pieces about his ex-wife and daughter. He would never admit it but it hurt him to talk about it so he didn't say much, but was grateful for anything he was willing to give me. I told him more about my home. My father and brothers who kept me locked away in the house, constantly cooking and cleaning. The romance books that I hid under my bed so my father wouldn't take them away. How desperately I wanted to escape but was too afraid to for so long.

"Someday, I'm going to pay that man a visit." He hissed; the venom clear in his voice. 

While I was grateful that he wanted to avenge me, I was happy with the idea of never going back there again. Not even for revenge. They didn't deserve to know I was alive and happy. Not that they would care.

On this particular day, we ended the night like we always did, naked on the couch with me sprawled out on top of him, a light blanket covering the bottom half of my body. It was becoming my happy place, and he seemed to enjoy it just as much. 

"We've become domesticated," I mumbled into his chest, causing him to laugh.

"I will NEVER be domesticated, darlin'. I'm just takin' a break is all." He responded; determination clear in his voice. 

Honestly? I didn't mind the idea of leaving this place eventually. I would follow that man anywhere. "I'm excited for our next adventure then."

-

I woke up groggy and confused as I heard footsteps coming closer. Cooper groaned as he pulled the blanket farther up my body, shielding me from wandering eyes. 

"Why hello there boys. Now ya'll here for the ice cream social, I'm afraid I got some bad news." He said, converting back into his old, cocky self.

One of the men crouched in front of the couch, looking between us, a look of disgust clear on his face. I squeaked from the embarrassment as I clutched at the blanket.

"That is absolutely disgusting," He murmured at the sight of us before looking over at the robot that had been stuttering for days. "Take it's fusion core." He nodded to the other men. 

I was practically buzzing from the fear coursing through my body. Cooper could feel it, so he snaked his arm around me protectively.

"Now," The man started again. "Destroying a legitimate business? That's illegal around these parts." He said, a cocky tone in his voice. 

"Says who?" Cooper asked, anger clear in his voice. 

"The government." The man responds menacingly before one of the others hit Cooper in the head with the butt of his gun, knocking him out. We were so focused on the man in front of us that we didn't notice the one sneaking around the back of the couch.

"Cooper!" I squealed as one of the men grabbed my arm and wrenched me off of him causing the blanket to fall to the ground. "Well looky here." The man slurred as I tried my best to cover myself. "How did a ghoul get so lucky? You some sorta pervert?" 

"Let go of me!" I cried out, looking back to Cooper. He started to stir, slowly waking up from the temporary loss of consciousness. In response, the men pointed their guns at him. "No, please!" I pleaded. 

"Don't worry miss we ain't gonna shoot him." He explained, "As long as he doesn't fight, that is. Now get dressed." He said throwing me to the ground on top of our clothes pile. With shaky hands I did as I was told, grateful that they didn't have other plans for me. 

By the time I was dressed Cooper's eyes were open. He was seething, baring his teeth to the man in front of him. The man responded by grabbing my arm and spinning me around, so my back was against his chest as he cocked a gun against my forehead. "Your turn ghoul. Get dressed."

A retort died on the tip of Cooper's tongue as he saw the tears running down my face. He let out an angry grunt before quickly throwing his clothes back on. Before he could say a word, the man who hit him took a rope and tied it around his wrists. "You are coming with us." The man growled.

The man holding me didn't bother tying me up, instead opting to keep a tight hold on my bicep. It didn't take long to start hurting. I was definitely going to have a bruise. His companion walked next to Cooper, gun in hand ready to shoot him at a moment's notice. The walk was quiet, tension was thick in the air. We didn't know where they were taking us. "At least they seem to need us alive for now." I thought to myself, glancing back at Cooper.

"Eyes forward." The man hissed at me, shaking me slightly.

I did as I was told, not wanting to push my luck. After a couple of hours of walking, we found ourselves heading inside a neglected building. The inside was decorated like it was out of one of the movies Cooper had me watch at SuperDuperMart. The man holding Cooper pushed him through some swinging doors. 

"Well, shit." A man says as soon as Cooper enters the room.

Why, Sorrel Booker." He chuckled.

Hope swelled in my chest at the idea that they knew each other. That maybe we'd be lucky enough that he would let us go. Sorrel Booker was a bigger man, he was sitting comfortably at a table with a large piece of meat in front of him. We were obviously interrupting his meal. The two men threw us down into chairs at the table. 

"I heard it was a ghoul that fucked up that SuperDuperMart." Booker mused, "Nobody told me it was THE ghoul." He said before picking up his knife. "You know who you boys brought in?" He asked the two men behind us. "This sumbitch right here used to be the best bounty hunter to ever shoot a man in the ass. Kids these days don't know their goddamn history."

I looked down into my lap and fiddled with my hands. This man was so hard to read. I couldn't tell if he was friends with Cooper or not. When I looked back up Booker's eyes were on me.

"Who's your friend?" He asked Cooper.

Before Cooper could respond, one of the men piped up, "We found these two naked. Can ya believe it?" He said, a tone of revulsion in his voice. "Disgusting."

"Her name is Y/n." Cooper said, throwing a dirty look at the man behind him, "And she didn't do shit.”

"She's with ya. How innocent can she be?" Booker asked.

There was a moment of silence before Cooper asked, "Say you got a needle and thread?"

One of the men behind us scoffed, "Sorry, we don't do a lot of knittin' around here."

"It's called sewing," Cooper responded, unamused. "I think I got some in my bag."

Booker nodded toward one of his men who immediately complied with the order, pulling out a rag. I shot him a curious glance as the man unfolded the rag on the table, everyone giving Cooper a disgusted look as his finger rolled out. Cooper held up his wrists expectantly, silently asking to be unbound.

"Now come on now, Sorrel, we are old friends, ain't we?" Cooper said as he stared him down.

Booker took a moment before relenting, cutting Cooper loose. "Look at you. 200 years." My eyes opened wide in surprise, during our talks Cooper never mentioned he was 200 years old. "I don't know what keeps you goin'. Maybe you like the feelin' of that good old Californian sunshine on your wrinkly ass face. Or maybe this one isn't the first girl you've found willin' to fuck a ghoul." He finished.

Cooper glanced over at me as he started sewing his finger back on his hand before saying, "Nah, she's one of a kind."

"How sweet." The man behind me said sarcastically. 

"Or maybe," Booker continued. "You're still lookin' for her."

I stiffened at his statement. Was there someone else?

"Well Sorrel, I can confidently cross one reason off that list for ya. I sure as hell ain't still alive so I can have unintelligent conversations with dipshits like yourself." Cooper responded. Booker had obviously hit a nerve. 

One of the men immediately responded by hitting Cooper in the head again with his gun. "Watch your mouth. That's the president of the government you're talkin' to." He sneered.

Cooper slowly leaned back into his chair. He looked calm, but I could see the anger still simmering inside of him. "Ah. You a president now?" He asked Sorrel.

"Don't see why not," Sorrel responded confidently, taking another bite of his food.

"Well, you might want to hire a publicist because this is the first I'm hearin' about this outfit. Now, what I am hearin' is a whole lot of chatter about some woman. Name of Moldaver." Cooper replied.

"They call her the flame mother. Now that bitch is dangerous." Sorrel said with a serious look on his face. 

"Well, when it comes to leadership these days, dangerous is what they call a prerequisite," Cooper said smirking.

"Somebody's gotta step up and bring some order around here. You know why these boys brought you in?" Booker asked, puffing out his chest. 

"Cause I fucked up a poor, defenseless, gang-affiliated organ dealership?" Cooper mumbled, a look of disbelief on his face.

"Yup," Sorrel said with conviction. "Now I've always liked you-"

"Well, I've always liked you," Cooper interrupted with a smile on his face.

"Well, ain't that sweet. But that SuperDuperMart you two gutted was under our protection. So, if I wanted to let you go scot-free, folks might lose faith about what we are trying to do here. And then what?" Booker explained.

"Anarchy in the streets," Cooper answered.

"Exactly, so you got anything to say in your defense?" Sorrel asked.

"Guilty as charged." The ghoul responded confidently. I gave him a look of disbelief as he happily wiggled his finger. 

"Just like that?" Sorrel asked, surprised. 

"Just. Like. That." He smiled. "Now if you need any more evidence, I can tell you about this town I just shot up, Filly." 

"Cooper." I hissed angrily. Finally breaking my silence. 

He smiled at me, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Oh, I must have killed nine or ten people." He continued, "She didn't do shit." He repeated. 

"My daddy lives in Filly." One of the men states, concern in his voice. 

"Well, not no more he don't. Unless he's a coward." Cooper said.

"Don't take the bait, son." Sorrel interrupted as the man cocked his gun at the ghoul.

"Oh, I ain't fishin'. I'm just trying to game this out. Now, in my experience, the apple tends not to fall too far from the tree. Is that true in your case?" Cooper asked.

"My daddy ain't no coward." The man was fuming as his gun stayed pointed at Cooper. 

"Well, then I guess the only question is..." Cooper smirked, "Are you?"

"Sherrif Rex. Take Sherrif Troy's gun away." Sorrel said, clearly unamused at the situation.

"Very presidential of ya." Cooper mused.

"Take him out back and feed him to the hogs," Booker said, done with Cooper's antics.

Sherrif Rex pulled Cooper to his feet, but before I could protest, Cooper headbutted Sherrif Troy before stealing Rex's gun. The next thing I knew both men were dead on the ground as he shot them repeatedly. 

"Goddamn it." Booker sighed.

"You really should teach your men how to treat a lady," Cooper explained. "They weren't very nice, were they darlin'?"

I gave him a small smile, "No Coop, they weren't."

He hummed as he stalked across the room. "I got one question for ya ol' buddy," Cooper said, turning his attention back to Sorrel. "Why... do you have this picture on your wall?" He asked, pulling down one of the wanted posters.

"That's Moldaver." Sorrel responded, a look of confusion on his face, "Why?"

Cooper's face betrayed him as shock washed over his face before he regained his composure. "It's just not how I remember her is all," Cooper mumbled. 

"Yea? Well, how do you remember her?" Sorrel asked.

Cooper stared silently at the poster for a while, lost in thought while Sorrel and I exchanged awkward glances. 

"Cooper?" I asked him, worry settling into my stomach. This seemed to catch his attention as he brought his eyes up to me. 

"Let's go, sugar." He said as he folded the paper before stuffing it in his bag. He reached his hand out to me, silently asking me to take it. 

I quickly grabbed his hand, eager to get out of this place. "What about him?" I ask.

"The president?" He asked, mocking Sorrel, "Leave him."

I held on to Cooper's hand tightly as he confidently strolled out of the building. Who was this woman? And what was she to Cooper?

Tag list: @bruhidkjustwannaread @msrawog @valdemarismynonbinarylove @whizbang-cap @topiramateagreeable @sitkafay @lightan117 @eykismyfav @ajeff855 @justme12200 @sihlaryn @raviolisenpai @ellabellabunny123 @impossessedbyjeongyeon @leviathanleva @v3lv3tf0x @fallout-girl219 @savanahc @booksbabes @gauky76 @green--beanie @fanfictiongirly23 @gobbodoggo @erissco @helveticabold @katgirl05 @tfamidoingwithmylife @miketastic25 @alex-does-art-things @iloved1lfs0

[apollyonsdarksecrets]

A part of you, a part of me

Summary: Joel’s been down this road before, he’s seen all the signs, and he knows before you ever do that you’re pregnant.

Warning: 18+ Minors DNI. Smut, unplanned pregnancy, crying, fluff, pre-outbreak Joel. Established relationship, cream pie, pet names, cussing, pregnancy tests, just a bunch of happiness because that’s all Joel deserves in this world. 💜😭

A/n: I can’t say Joel has a breeding kink… but I can certainly say he makes me have one 😌

Joel Miller Master List

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Joel remembers everything from Sarah’s mother’s pregnancy, all of the signs that lead up to them finding out. And surely enough it was beginning to show in you.

It started one autumn morning, when he woke up to find you nestled in beside him, face pressed into his chest, snoring slightly, hair in disarray. You were the picture perfect definition of someone getting the best sleep of their lives.

The only reason it concerned his was the fact that you never slept in past 6. You were always up before Joel, making breakfast for him and Sarah and more often than not Tommy, taking Sarah to school with a sweet kiss to his lips before you’d dash off to work yourself.

Brushing the hair from your face he whispers softly, “Honey?” You grumble something unintelligible, pulling a smile from him. “Honey it’s 7:20.” You’re slow to open your eyes, hazy and still leaded with sleep as they focus in on him, his dark hair sticking up around his head like every morning, “You okay?”

“M’ just really tired… think you can take over this morning?” You whisper, reaching up and cupping his cheek, the stubble of his beard scratching your palm.

“Of course baby. You need me to call work? Want a day to relax?” You smile at his concern, knowing he’s already gearing himself to go the extra mile to make sure you start to feel better.

“That would be really nice.” He kisses your lips gently before leaving you to sleep in, and you end up sleeping most of the day away.

Joel’s quick to notice that you start to get more tired as the days progress, usually a morning person you were now sluggish and downing two cups of coffee just to stay alert, you’d stay in bed a little longer and go to sleep a little earlier.

Initially he’d chalked it up to being stress at work, you were an associate for a designer company, making all the hotels and houses around here ‘fancy looking’ as he would say. It was a big, busy job that you were very passionate about.

But then came the emotions and cravings, not anger or frustration like Sarah’s mother, but you cried, and you cried a lot. The alarm bells should of gone off when he found you one night in the kitchen after everyone had gone to bed. You were sitting at the counter crying, no you had been sobbing, and Joel feared the worst until you blubbered out that you just really, really wanted ice cream.

Him finding you like that only embarrassed you more, adding to the water works as he dragged you in for a tight hug, smoothing his hands up and down your back.

“I-I think I’m just PMSing.” You hiccuped bashfully, hiding your face against his chest as he kissed the brown of your head.

“It’s okay, we will go get some tomorrow, it’s Saturday and we can take Sarah with us to the little parlor in town.”

Two months in to your sudden changes is when it all came to a head, he wasn’t being nosy, had actually just walked into the house about to announce himself when he heard you on the phone.

“I don’t know Jenny, works been stressful, I definitely haven’t been eating right and I just don’t have the energy to go to the gym like I use to. Hell even my periods plying hide and seek with me. I thought about making a doctors appointment-“

Whatever else you say is lost on him as he stops dead in his tracks, his muscles tensing and mouth drying up. He makes his legs move, taking him around the corner and into the kitchen. You don’t notice him at first, giving him the perfect opportunity to just look at you, to really look at you.

At the sake of sounding corny… You really were glowing, face a little rounder, body filling out in different ways, curves softening under your clothing. The changes were slight, not so prominent yet, but he can see it.

His heart speeds up, emotions rolling through him like the ocean in a storm.

You are pregnant.

Walking closer he catches your attention, making you crack a wide smile that has his knees going weak. “Hey, Jenny, Joel just got home I’ll talk to you later… love you too, bye.”

Setting the phone down, you go to stand but Joel’s in front of you, dropping to his knees and capturing your hips in his hands. You let out a startled yelp, hands coming to rest on his arms squeezing gently.

“As adventurous as I am, I don’t think the kitchen is t-.”

“We need to talk.” His serious expression extinguishes your excitement, panic flashing through you instantly.

“What’s wrong? Is Sarah okay? Tommy?”

“Yes, they are fine, we need… we need to talk about you.”

“Me? Honey I’m fine, what do you mean?” Nervous laughter bubbles up in your throat, mind racing in every possible direction this conversation could go.

Joel rolls his lips together, glancing to your stomach then back to you. Your face is contorted with confusion, your grip tightening on his arms. “When… how long has it been since you’re last period?”

You scoff at his question, eyes rolling slightly as your posture relaxes. “Baby I don’t know, I haven’t been tracking it like I usually do. Between Carol and Tray calling out of work I’ve been given both of their projects to present, that’s two on top of my other two. And -.” You roll your eyes, temper rising, “and get this, two of them are so within three hours of each other, now how in the world am I supposed to-.”

“Darlin’.” Joel cuts off your rambling, one large hand shifting to your softer stomach, rubbing slow circles as he watches the confusion melt into realization and then back to panic as your eyes drop to your stomach.

“N-no… no Joel we.. we always use condoms.”

He gives you a look that says you’re lying through your teeth, which you are, there has been a few times over the past couple of months, after you’ve both had one to many drinks where you’ll wake up in the morning, slick between your thighs.

Joel watches your face pale, body shaking in his grasp and he pulls you a little closer with the hand on your hip. “How long?”

Swallowing you finally look at his face, his eyebrows furrowed slightly, expression pinched with… worry? Upset? Is he scared? Your own fears rise eyes flicking between his and something in his chest cracks open at the look on your face.

“M-maybe two months… I-I really don’t k-know.”

He nods, rubbing slow circles into your stomach, already knowing but needing to be sure. “Let’s take a trip to the store okay?”

*~*~*~*~*~*

You’re both quiet sitting on Joel’s bed, two positive pregnancy tests laying in between you. You are fighting back tears, stiff and trembling, waiting on Joel to blow up.

You’ve only been dating for three years, kids have never been a topic of discussion seeing as Joel already has Sarah, he’s been through the baby phase. Then there’s the fact you don’t officially live with him, though you’re apartment in the city is only visited when you need to do laundry. Almost every moment of the day is in this house or at work… does that me this will change everything?

“I’m… I’m so sorry Joel.” You finally whisper, fat tears rolling down your cheeks.”

“What?”

“I should… I should of been on the pill, I should of been more careful… I didn’t mean to do this to you.” The absolute devastation in your voice makes Joel move, kneeling down in front of you like earlier, this time his hands are on your waist, thumbs stroking the sides of your changing belly.

“Don’t you dare talk like that, you didn’t do anything to me. Yes I’m scared, I’m scared shitless but fuck baby… I’m over the moon.” Your watery eyes dart to his and he’s smiling, joy shining in his soft drown eyes making something inside your body relax for the first time in hours. “Now… I know-I know we didn’t plan this but I mean… This is us. This right here.” He leans forward, pressing his lips to your stomach making you giggle breathlessly. “This is a part of me and a part of you that… God it’s so wonderful and you’re so wonderful and I love you so much, I love this so much.”

Tears brim his own beautiful eyes, hands gently squeezing your sides, curling into the fabric of your tank top as he searches your tear streaked face. “You my sweet girl, are going to be the most amazing mother.”

Whatever reservations, whatever doubts you were holding onto flood from your body with the shaky breath that escapes through your trembling lips, and without thought you lean down, capturing his lips in a kiss, one that pours every little emotion you don’t know how to communicate into him.

Joel stands, lips never leaving yours and pushes you back gently onto the bed, fitting himself between your legs as the kiss slowly turns hungry. You’re burning from the inside out, tears still escaping down your cheeks, as Joel settles himself over you, mindful of his weight.

“Shhh don’t cry honey.” He breaths, lips moving down to your jaw, working the skin with sloppy kisses.

You tilt your head back, body thrumming with sudden need. “H-happy tears.” You manage to squeak out, hands tugging at his t-shirt wantonly. “Joel… I want you, please I want you.” You beg, arching your back pressing your hips up against him searching for some form of friction.

“I know baby, just relax. I’ll take good care of you.” He mumbles against your throat, a hand finding your pajama shorts and tugging them down, exposing your bare cunt to the cold air. He sits back, pulling your shorts over your ankles with a low growl. “Fuck baby, you’re so wet for me already.” Joel swipes a fingers through your folds, gathering your juices and circling your clit.

You whine into the air, closing your eyes as another pulse of arousal shoots through you, heart hammering against your ribs. “Please… Don’t tease me please.” The tears now streaming down your cheeks are out of desperation, your hands finding his belt and yanking at the worn leather.

Joel only chuckles with a shake his head, helping you unbuckle the belt and open his jeans, shoving them down far enough for his cock to spring free. You groan at the sight, letting your legs fall further open as you grab a fist full of his t-shirt pulling him to you.

“Need my cock that bad baby? Can’t wait any longer?” He groans as he runs the tip along your soaked folds, bumping your swollen bud making your hips jerk.

You shake your head, watching his cock as he slowly presses the head into your opening, your lip caught between your teeth.

“Hey,” Joel’s fingers find your chin, lifting your gaze to his and he feels like he might blow his load then and there. Your eyes simmer with pure lust… pure list and want and love and your looking up at his through your long lashes making his breath hitch in his chest. “Eyes on me when I fuck you, wanna see that pretty face when I make you cum.”

“Y-Yes sir.” You nod weakly, head resting back on the pillows as you hook your ankles around his waist.

“What a good girl you are.” He slowly thrusts in, savoring how you stretch around him, always so tight and warm. A low moan falls from your lips, legs tightening around him encouraging him to go deeper and he obeys, sinking into you completely.

You both stay still for a moment, breaths labored and hearts pounding. Joel keeps himself propped up with one hand, the other pushing your shirt up just under your breasts, finding its place on your small bump.

Joel pulls out half way before sinking back in, moaning and closing his eyes briefly as he finds his pace, deep and slow making your eyes roll and body languid below his. You can feel each bump and ridge of his cock, rubbing your walls in just the right way that your orgasm builds quickly. “So pretty, always wanted to put a baby in you, never thought I’d get the chance.” Your pussy squeezes around him your soft whimpers follow. “Yeah? You like that?”

“F-fuck… yes Joel… yes.” Your grip tightens on his shirt, anchoring yourself to him as pressure begins to build in the base of your spine.

His voice drops, the timbre in his drawl making your blood thick in your veins, head heavy and empty. “Just gonna have ta’ keep you pregnant then, barefoot in ma kitchen, swollen with all my babies.” Joel’s thrusts speed up, his mental image of you driving him closer and closer to his own orgasm. “I need to feel you cum for me, cum on my cock baby.”

His fingers find your swollen clit, rubbing tight circles and you nearly scream, the pressure radiating out into your abdomen pulling your muscles tight. You nod feverishly, panting out some form of yess and please, teetering on the cusp of oblivion, just for him.

Joel groans, eyebrows drawn together and thrusts turning sloppy, he can feel your pussy spasming around him and he knows he won’t last much longer.

“Let it go baby, let it happen, cum on my dick like the good girl you are.”

And it snaps, the tension flooding from your body as your orgasm erupts, a silent scream forming your lips into that perfect O shape that Joel loves so much, and as your cunt clenches down on him he stills, rope after rope of thick cum painting your quivering walls. He moans loud and deep, a shudder raking through his body as his eyes close and he basks in the euphoria washing through him.

Your legs shake around his twitching hips, whining pitchy and out of breath and Joel finally moves his fingers from your sensitive clit, splaying his hand across your stomach.

“You’re gonna be such a good mama.”

*~*~*~*~*~*

You both wait until after your first doctors appointment to tell Sarah and Tommy, over a lovely family meal.

“This is so good.” Sarah mumbles out around a mouth full of homemade lasagna making everyone laugh.

“Thank you, it’s my mamas recipe.” Joel’s eyes lock with yours, a smile tugging at his lips as your heart pounds in your ears, ready to spill the beans like you’ve planted. “I hope one day I can pass it on to you and your little sibling.”

It takes Sarah a minute, but Tommy stops eating immediately, his eyes growing wide, head wiping up to look between you and his brother, the smile that spreads across his face makes your heart warm.

“Ooo I’d love to try and cook it with you some time, I like learning new…” The realization dawns on her then, her jaw dropping open, shock taking over her expression and Joel can’t help but laugh.

“Really?” Sarah turns to you, and you’re already nodding, tears filling your eyes at the same time hers do. “I’m going to be a sister?”

“Oh honey…” She’s out of her chair and crashing into your open arms in an instant, crying against your chest as you bury your face into her curls, holding on tightly.

Tommy embraces Joel, patting his back roughly as Joel beams, watching his two girls over Tommy’s shoulder. This moment, this instances is all he’s ever dreamt of.

[rise-my-angel]

Heart of the Great Wolf

Masterlist

Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader (Slow Burn)

Robb Stark x F!Baratheon!Reader

Pre Series Content and Extras:

Scattered Memories of the Starks

Shadows of their Hatred

The Lost Chapters of Jon Snow

A New Life's Darkened Lust

Interlude of Jealous Desires

The Trials of Resurrection

The Injured and the Perverse

NSFW Alphabet (contains spoilers for part 3 and 4)

Woes of a Modern Day Love (a modern!au)

Fresh Heals of Old Pain (a modern!au part 2)

The Aftermath of Envy (a modern!au part 3)

Stoking the Flames (a modern!au part 4)

Part 1:

Wolves of the Lone Stag

Mouth of the Lion's Den

An Intrigue Drenched in Blood

Standing Behind a Betrayal

A War of Tragic Beginning

Part 2:

King and Queen in the North

Shadow of a Fiery Stag

Reunion of New Enemies

Pleasure of Conflicted Desire

The Sanctity of Children

What Lies Beyond The Veil

Part 3:

The Cost of Our Sins

Dragged Through the Violence

Only the Cold

Fire for the King's Blood

Part 4:

Ashes of Various Grey

Plans of Pain and Horror

Afraid of a Ravens Flight

Trust in the Gentle Rasps

Visions in Eyes and Flames

A Bastard or The White Wolf

Part 5:

Home of Bloodsoaked Stone

Blazing Fire of Storming Ice

Ghostly Dreams of Old

Sailing Through the Glow

The Last Dragon

The Winter Rose

Part 6:

The Clash of Three Kings

Shrouded Truth in Sickness

Winged Shadow in the Sky

Light in the Darkest Storms

Peeking the Realms Woes

Blood, Roses and All Lies

Broken Love of the Dead

The Souls Tethered in Death

Wolves of the Past and Back

The Crows and The Sight

Part 7:

A Brewing of New Mystery

Great Wolves of White Mists

Darkness Heavy in a World

Past Becomes the Present

The Thing in the Night

Waving Tides of Turmoil

Greenish White Boodraven

Dark Blood of Blinding Light

And Wait for the Snows

Part 8:

Into the Haunted Forest

Fist of the First Men

Through the Frost Fangs

News From the South

Lies Within the Sunlight

Night of Two Distances

Screams of Cracking Ice

The Final Marching Trek

Fear Overtakes a Night

Wolves Teeth and Claws

Part 9:

Forcing Past Our Safety

One Whirlwind to the Next

Court of the North

Glimpse into the Rains

Scattered Pieces of Truth

Reunions and Realizations

Laws of Gods and Men

A Mockingbirds End

[eoieopda]

FINE I'M HERE TO REQUEST PART 3!!! In which Chan better really GET that promotion!!!!!!! Contract signed, payroll amended!!!!!

You can make it angsty if you like, AS LONG AS you promise there will be a happy ending (in this part or........ Another 👀)

the one with chan and the promotion (iii)

you needed a ride home after getting your wisdom teeth removed. chan just so happened to be free. now, being free is the last thing he wants.

part i. part ii.

pairing: bang chan x reader au: fuck buddies to lovers, hurt/comfort type: drabble (angst, fluff) rating: 18+ | minors do not have my consent to interact with me and/or my content. wc: 3.1k cw: mad!chan makes a brief appearance but otherwise remains the best boy; gn!reader (no gendered language used); reader may or may not show some degree of emotional availability (gasp!); due to the nature of their relationship, sex is referenced but not actually depicted; very briefly/incompletely edited, oops. a/n: i love you completely and am so fucking sorry it took four (4) months for me to finish this 😵‍💫 i have an epilogue i can offer in penance, if you want it! everyone else, please read the first two parts before reading this!

Chan may be an idiot, but at least he’s self-aware.

He knew it was a bad idea to get his hopes up; to expect that things would change quickly between you, if at all. Even though he saw the letdown coming from a kilometer away, he didn’t do a thing to brace himself for it. It’s his fault, he knows, for exaggerating his place in your life — but that doesn’t make the disappointment bruise any less when the week after your wisdom teeth removal flies by in radio silence.

The lack of conversation isn’t for lack of trying. As he scrolls through your half-vacant text thread now, Chan feels all his efforts staring back at him. All those attempted check-ins marked delivered but not well-received. Swings and misses.

Prior to sending each one of them, he spent minutes upon minutes agonizing over the tone — and the use of emojis — and the possible implications of the proposed emojis — and the fear that he’d just come off clingy, not invested. Reading the finished versions back now, he can recall with perfect accuracy the drafts he typed out and immediately, feverishly deleted. Considering the way they litter his brain, there may as well be a trail of crumpled-up notes in all that metadata.

Does it make Chan cringe to look back and watch himself flatline? Absolutely.

Does that stop him from salting his own wounds? Nope. It never has and likely never will.

Maybe, he figures, he’ll spot where he went wrong and find a way to un-dig this ditch he’s seemingly made.

[Sent 2024/7/23, 15:22] Just got home. Have you fallen back asleep already? Lol 

Naver says your swelling might be kind of bad tomorrow. Do you need ice packs? I have the gel kind that you can mold. Might be more comfortable than a bag of ice cubes 🤔 Lmk!

[Sent 2024/7/25, 08:03] Hi, Hamtori 🐹 How are your cheeks?

I made too much gamjaguk again. I can drop some off if

[Sent 2024/7/26, 17:49] Graduate to solid foods yet?

I hope the antibiotics aren’t making your stomach upset

DON’T LAUGH but I made you a super chill Spotify playlist with healing vibes to

Idk if you remember, but I promised to take you out for pork belly next week. If you’re up for it, are you free on

I miss y

[Sent 2024/7/29, 00:16] Hey

Or maybe, he thinks, he’ll just beat his head against his bedroom wall instead; and eventually, he’ll forget what it felt like to be yours for the day, rather than a night.

Four more days pass without a word from you. Under normal circumstances, one of you would’ve invited the other over at least twice in the eleven days since your dental appointment. No matter how infrequently the two of you chatted outside of your recurrent trysts, neither one of you has ever gone this long without summoning the other.

Something is wrong.

At this point, Chan sees two explanations for the way you’ve fallen completely off the grid: you’ve either succumbed to some tragic, post-op. complication and died, or he’s irreparably fucked something up with you without knowing how or when he misstepped. Neither one of those is an outcome he’s willing to accept. 

The voice in his head nags him so forcefully and consistently that his body eventually gives in. Undeterred by his better judgment, Chan lets it guide him up, out, and onward until he winds up on the sidewalk outside his building.

On the walk to your apartment, he mulls over the foreseeable consequences of the actions he’s already set in motion. It’s certifiably insane to pop in you like this, and once again, he only sees two options: you’ll slam the door in his face, or he’ll confirm once and for all that you’ve left this mortal coil. Bad on all counts, really, but anything is better than nothing.

His timing, as it turns out, couldn’t be better. Right as he lands at the front door, when he needs to think of a way to get in without buzzing you, a neighbor he’s seen once or twice before opens it to leave. Politely, they hold it open for him, likely mistaking him for someone with any right to be there — someone whose primary to you actually makes sense. Chan thanks them with a nod of his head and a sheepish smile before slipping through the opening.

As the elevator ascends, his fingers move of their own accord, anxiously tapping out a rhythm on the stainless steel wall he leans against. Every worst-case scenario flashes through his mind. There’s a flash of something else there, too, though. Something even more nerve-wracking than all his catastrophizing; something that makes his stomach flip.

Hope.

“Oi, none of that,” he mutters to himself.

It doesn’t work. When Chan approaches the doors in the second before they open, he makes eye contact with his reflection and sees that easy, ill-advised smile creeping up on him.

As he exits that giant metal box, he shakes his head with an anxious laugh. If he’s this embarrassed by himself when he’s alone, the chances of him living through the way you’re about to look at him are…

Well…

Abysmal.

But that doesn’t stop him from powering his way down the hall towards your door. Coincidentally, neither does the fact that he doesn’t have a plan for what he’ll do when he reaches it.

Figuring knocking is as good a start as any, that’s precisely what Chan does, shifting his weight from one foot to the other to appear more nonchalant. 

Then, he waits.

And then, he waits some more.

After thirty seconds pass without a response, Chan knocks again, carefully balancing the weight of his fist against it so the sound of it isn’t too assertive — or too eager — or too desperate — or —

“Left about an hour ago,” a voice says from a few meters away.

Chan turns towards the sound. Several units down, an old woman’s head pokes out of an open doorway. He can’t tell if she’s intentionally frowning at him or if it’s the weight of her jowls pulling the corners of her mouth down. Either way, it feels bad.

Running an anxious hand over the back of his increasingly warm neck, he coughs, “Oh?”

The ajumma clicks her tongue disapprovingly. “You young people never put those cell phones down and yet you still wind up like this.” She works herself up further; her nostrils flare as she rambles, “In my day, it was rude to show up unannounced. We called ahead, and when we called ahead, people were there to answer the door.”

Chan isn’t above arguing with some personified wrinkle, but he likes to think you would be. Even though you’re not here to witness it, it feels important to be the person you might like him to be. 

So, he bites his tongue. 

He nods yet again with a polite smile.

He turns on his heels.

And when he shuffles back towards the elevator, there’s a hell of a lot less of a spring in his step.

Two days go by after Chan’s little fieldtrip. Just like the previous several, they slip away quietly. This time, however, he doesn’t check-in — doesn’t type out his thoughts just to immediately erase them; doesn’t stare at his phone and wait to prove it to himself that it won’t chime.

Lesson learned, really.

It was a bad idea to bet the house on maybes. He knew it on the front end and still chose optimism; now, it serves him right. Played stupid games and won stupid prizes, as you like to say. If only he could stop thinking about what you like to say and instead focus on the fact that you haven’t said anything at all.

Chan grits his teeth and tries hard to focus on the game lighting up his monitor. Whatever Yongbok talked him into playing doesn’t make him feel any better about fumbling you — in fact, it’s proving to be yet another thing he’s terrible at — but it’s sufficiently distracting to have his friends swearing each other up and down in their Discord voice channel.

Actually, he stands corrected. This is also terrible, albeit a different flavor of garbage than his hopeless mooning over you.

Maybe radio silence is better.

As soon as that thought crosses his mind, his phone buzzes against the surface of his desk — three long taps bookended by three short ones. 

Before Chan reaches for it, he lets the poetry of it all sink in. SOS, his phone declares whenever you text him. Originally, although he’ll never fucking tell you so, he chose that text tone because hearing from you salvaged his day, every time. Now, it reminds him that he’s in over his head with no life preserver in sight.

Not bad, he thinks. He should write that bit down in the notebook of lyrics he ruminates over but never puts to music, let alone shares.

The lack of action on his part prompts his phone to vibrate again for emphasis. 

SOS!

Beaming white light bores into his retinas when he finally opens his inbox, and Chan refuses to think about the million times you’ve told him to switch to dark mode or the infinitely-brighter shit he’s been roasting under since he started this game several hours back. All he thinks about instead is the first grey text in an ocean of blue:

[2024/8/04, 23:37] you up?

You tilt your head to the side, smiling coyly when you crack open the door and find Chan standing on your doorstep with his hood up and hands in his pockets. Outside the windows behind you, the downpour he just trudged through continues to dampen his mood.

“Fancy meeting you here,” you lilt, like nothing has changed at all.

That’s the problem, isn’t it?  

Chan lifts his chin slightly as some half-assed nod to let you know that his ears work, if nothing else. Either missing his stony expression or ignoring it, you simply open the door wider, beckoning him to follow you with a gentle wave of your free hand.

He wants so badly to smile back at you as easily as you smile at him — really, he does, but fuck, he can’t make his face do anything but harden.

Once he toes off his shoes, he expects you to lead him straight to your room — or your couch — or any of the other various services the pair of you have misappropriated along the way. You don’t, though. With your lips pensively pursed, you shuffle a bit closer; and as soon as you can reach him properly, you raise both of your hands. One flattens against his now rain-soaked sweatshirt; the other goes for his zipper, tugging gently until there’s nothing left to hold him together.

Carefully, Chan eyes you; watches while you slip the fabric off his shoulders, as if it isn’t twice as heavy as it was when he put it on. Like it’s easy, you turn away, open the nearby closet, and toss that wet mess into the top-half of your standing washer-dryer.

“I think…” Your tiny, upward curve returns while your sentence peters out. Softly, you reach up and brush a damp curl off his forehead. “An umbrella would be a worthwhile investment.”

He should join in on the bit. He should banter right back. He should smile, too — for fuck’s sake — because you’re finally right here. You’re talking to him within touching distance, radiating warmth he wants to live in, and he should touch you the way you want to be touched — the way you summoned him here to touch you.

He should do a lot of things, none of which include snapping at you, and yet —

“Why the hell am I here?”

It catches you both off-guard. You, because Chan has never once spoken to you any other way but kindly. Him, because you don’t actually look all that surprised by the sentiment, even if the presentation isn’t what you expected.

Somehow, that’s the thing that stings the most; not the way your face falls at his gruffness but the inkling you must have had before you asked him over that things between you aren’t sitting right at all.

Chan doesn’t get a response, so he asks another way: “Did you notice all of those unanswered texts when you sent yours, or did you ignore them all over again?”

It dawns on you — and him too, if he’s being honest — that you’ve still got your hands resting delicately on his chest. You reel your arms back in and cross them, not defiantly but diminutively. You shrink right in front of him; and regret hits him like a fist to the side of his skull.

“I didn’t know what to do with them.” Your head lowers while you do your best to look anywhere else.

That’s —

“Bullshit. I’m sorry, but it’s really not hard to keep up a conversation, especially when someone is just asking how you’re feeling.” Instantly he feels terrible for snapping. Softening his tone slightly, he sighs, “I know you know how.”

You look up at him without tilting your head much at all. Peering over that brick wall of yours, he figures. “That’s the thing, though. I don’t know.”

The face he pulls must convey what he’s thinking: Are you fucking kidding me? But you’re quick to prevent him from jumping to any further-out conclusions, amending, “I don’t know how I feel.”

Chan opens his mouth to respond, then thinks better of it. It’s rare for you to open up to the extent you might be about to; and it’s a miracle that you might be willing to now, given the fact that he’s come at you blindly at 160 kilometers per hour.

“I don’t like needing people.” 

Your attention is drawn to your fidgeting fingers and the drawstring of the sweatpants they occupy themselves with. The overwhelming urge he feels to grab them, to hold them still, goes ignored and makes his own hands tense. He focuses hard on your face instead; the crease between your eyebrows while you plot out your next steps.

“I didn’t want to need you, but then I did need you — and you just… you came, no questions asked.” You laugh, either despite your visible discomfort or because of it. “Held my hand and all that, didn’t just drop me on the curb and say, hit me up when you’re down again.”

Chan feels as if he’s been punched, although it’s not offense he takes from your statement. Judging by that flicker of hurt in your eyes, the expectation you had wasn’t for him, personally. It was history. 

You shift where you stand from one foot to another, like that weight on your shoulders is changing. He doesn’t know if it’s getting heavier or lighter until you finally lift your chin to look at him squarely. 

“It scared the shit out of me, honestly — how easy you are to need — so, I did what I always do: I bailed.” Sighing, you finally seem to register how much anxiety you’re holding in your hands. You drop it, then drop them to your sides. “But I think I’ve figured it out.”

You smile slightly, and suddenly, he feels lighter. “I’ve been conflating them, but they’re completely different things, aren’t they?”

Chan arches an eyebrow. Truly, he’s at a loss. He can’t predict which direction you’re about to turn in. Seeming to sense this, you answer his unasked question, “Wanting to need you and wanting you.”

While this makes his brain pause, his body moves. Cautiously, he steps forward and watches you counter him until your back is flush against the wall behind you. 

“Can I have a definition, then, please?” He pleads, voice low, while his hands gently claim your hips. “Because I thought it was want behind the booty call that brought me here, and I don’t want to find myself on a completely different page again.”

You link your arms around his neck and eye him carefully. “It was,” you acknowledge with a small nod. “Different kind, though — a shallow one.”

Chan finds his mouth curving up at the corner, all on its own. His gaze drops from yours to your lips, then back again. It’d be so easy to kiss you now, but he can’t unless he gets some sort of confirmation. “We’re in the deep end now, then?”

“Moving that way, at least. I spook easily, though…” You’d probably love nothing more than to look away when you admit that bit out loud, but to your credit, you don’t. Instead, you run your fingernails softly through the hair at his nape. “I’m not entitled to any more of your patience, but would you be willing to take it one day at a time?”

Chan wishes that he’d at least pretended to consider this. He doubts you’ve ever had a vision of him as someone nonchalant — in fact, he’s the poster boy for chalance in whichever reality that word exists — but it would’ve been infinitely cooler of him not to respond immediately and wholeheartedly with a rushed sigh, “Fuckin’ right, I am,” before leaning in to kiss you absolutely stupid.

Whatever gratification he can’t find by licking into the mouth you open eagerly for him, he finds in the way you keen when he presses his body more fully against yours. The payoff is even better when he stops short, divorcing your respective lips entirely.

“I’m not gonna fuck you,” he announces, breathless. His grin widens; meanwhile, your eyebrows shoot up your forehead. “No! Not, like, never — I don’t have that kind of resolve — but not tonight.”

The sudden switch makes you dizzy. Thankfully, it makes you laugh, too. 

“Don’t tell me you just want to enjoy my company,” you warn. You attempt to say it earnestly, but a smile cracks you wide open. “I’m still too prone to bolt when I hear cute shit like that.”

Chan shakes his head. “No, I’m telling you to plant yourself on that couch —” He pulls his right hand off your left hip and gestures blindly over his shoulder. “I’m also telling you that I am getting takeout.”

You narrow your eyes in feigned suspicion. “I wonder what you could possibly be ordering.”

“Belated pork belly is better than no pork belly.” He narrows his eyes to mirror hours, then kisses you quickly, murmuring, “One for the road,” against your lips.

Then, he dashes off towards your front door. As he goes, he just barely catches you nagging him through your laughter:

“If you’re not going to wait for your sweatshirt, can you at least take an umbrella?”

while likes are appreciated, comments/tags/reblogs with your thoughts are really what make my brain go brrrtt.

skz taglist. multi taglist. navigation.

due to tumblr being ass with tags lately, i’m going to be tagging people in the comments for the time being!

[plotsignificanthaircut555]

Honey Cappuccino with Cinnamon

Kento Nanami x Barista! Reader SMUT, MDNI, 18+ ONLY

You get a new patron in your cafe, a dashingly handsome, well mannered, well spoken, Kento Nanami.

wc: 13k, whoops

Content: Smut, Fluff, comfort, kind of a slow burn, kissing (ooooo!!), sex, brief fear/violence (but not sexual), small curse appearance, cunnalingus, reader is female, smoking, swearing no spit (r u guys proud or disappointed), bad ending

Ao3, Masterlist, Coffee headcannons. dont reproduce my work or post it anywhere else. i came up with it out of my head. Enjoy.

You loved your morning openings, most people would have preferred to sleep in, enjoy their mornings at home, take their time getting ready for the day, all while the sun was settled in the sky. But you loved waking up in the misty dark, walking in the clean, morning air, and setting up the cafe before the sun found its way out of bed. The hour and a half before the cafe opened felt like you were the only person in the entire world, total serenity. You could make your own coffee, just how you liked it, luxuriate in the smells of last night's prepped pastries baking to perfection in the oven, work at your own pace while listening to an audiobook or a playlist that you chose. It was the time you looked forward to most throughout the week; your perfect hour of bliss. Uninterrupted bliss. 

The ringing of the door chime was your indicator to return to reality and remember that the cafe didn’t exist solely for your own personal enjoyment, but was in fact a buzzing success. From 6 AM opening to 7 PM closing the cafe would see anywhere between 300-700 customers a day. The large majority of them just stopped in, ordering, and leaving upon receiving their coffee and scone or whatever it was they wanted. A handful you saw nearly every day. You, of course, knew their names, you were a professional. But your first rung of memory was always their orders. 

The gentleman that comes on his bike with his canvas backpack -- a double espresso with equal parts hot water to the espresso. 

The woman who comes with her daughters every morning -- two blended caramel frappes for them, three shots of espresso over ice in a large cup for her. (she pours a protein shake over it and mixes it together. She’s been trying to get you on it. You tried it once, she's onto something.) 

The college kid whose eye bags have doubled in size since they first came in. -- Iced americano, one more shot than you feel is ethical each time. 

Three shot soy latte guy, small decaf mocha woman with a fresh set of nails every time you saw her, long pull espresso always in a porcelain cup for the older woman with the faded purple lipstick, etc. etc. 

The mental list of orders must have been a mile long but you kept them all in your heart. You have seen people before job interviews, between shifts, between jobs, on breaks, days off, first dates, break ups, going to work, coming from it, anything in between. Second only to your sacred alone time, was the way you got to know the people who continued to come. Your position as a customer service worker was not without the obvious dregs of complaints and entitlement from the comers and goers, who never asked your name or about your day, and always had something wrong with their drinks, but it was all overshadowed by the kind faces you recognized so well. And nothing could compare to seeing someone for the second or third time, knowing you had secured another person a favorite coffee shop where they could feel comfortable and know that this small, but vital, piece of their life would be taken seriously and made carefully, exactly to their tastes. You liked giving people that peace, a little taste of your own. 

This morning when you opened, you got into the cafe at 4:30. Early for the 6:00 opening but you wanted to enjoy the languid morning hours a little extra today, and you did. You took your time setting the pastry display, straightening up the table, setting up the self service bar. Before you knew it, there was only a half hour left before opening. The large drip brewers were prepped, ready to fill the cafe with the rich smell of fresh coffee at the touch of a button, the last batch of lemon scones were in the oven, you had just finished counting the drawer for the register and were about to spend the last twenty minutes before turning on the open sign in sweet, perfect silence, enjoying your own favorite coffee when the bell chimed.

“We’re not open yet,” your eyes stayed closed, prepping for the first sip of your perfect morning indulgence. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. The sign is on, I didn’t realize.” A rich, oaky voice filled the echoey cafe. 

You opened your eyes and turned to face the voice. The owner of the voice was a tall man, over six feet, a full, broad figure clad in a tan coat over a dark blue button up. The outer layer couldn’t conceale the way his shirt stretched over his chest, buttons meeting, but just barely. A queer looking yellow tie spotted almost like a cheetah or a banana thankfully covered the higher up, more stretched gaps. But what struck you the most was his face, hard lined cheekbones, long, slender nose, hard set jaw, thin but full rosy lips, a set of unique green lensed glasses resting over his eyes. He was stunning, completely beautiful, the kind of beauty that could strike a god down to earth for the chance of love. You felt your throat tighten, your mouth fall open.

“I-uh, Sorry.” And yet you still couldn’t figure out how to respond. 

He took a moment to look at you, then checked his watch, pulling up his sleeve for you to see the joint of his wrist. Behind him you could see the white neon light of the open sign shining through the front window. Your face heated, mortified at how unprofessional you were being, gawking at him. 

“Oh. I am early-- I’ll come back. I’d hate for you to star----”

“No!” you interrupted, waiting just a touch too long before continuing, “You’re barely early, excuse my flippancy, please come in. What can I get you?” 

You took your place behind the counter, he moved to the other side of the counter, he scanned the menu board above your head, turning his chin up slightly, giving you a view of the muscles in his neck. Your mouth watered. You brought your eyes down to the screen in front of you, desperate to quiet the thoughts in your mind. 

“I really would hate for you to start work early. Especially for my sake I can wait outside.” 

“Don’t be silly! I couldn’t have you out there waiting when I can help you now.” 

You absolutely could, and had, on many occasions done exactly that. Letting the morning rush wait until operating hours no matter how early they wanted to “just squeak in super fast!”. But you wanted to keep him inside, bring him closer, give him anything he wanted. Hell, if he turned out to want all the money in the register you probably would have at least considered it.  

The rich voice filled your ears once again, “A cappuccino, please. With just a bit of honey, please.”

Great order, and so polite. 

“You got it.” You plugged it into the computer, the total appearing on his side of the screen, “dry or wet?” 

He cleared his throat abruptly, eyes wide behind the thick frames, “uh…?”

You didn’t realize how it came out, “more milk or more foam?” 

He collects himself, “uh wet, then.” 

You nod, “any preference of milk?”

“Whatever you have is fine.” 

You started the espresso grinder, the whirring filling the soundless air of the cafe, “this is a cafe, we have like six milks.” 

He nods, “right. Um…whatever you use I’m sure is fine.” 

You mirror his nod, “oat is, then. Anything else I can get you?” 

“One of those croissants, please.” He gestured to the pastry case, ten perfect flaky butter croissants sitting beautifully. 

“Great choice.” You smile, “I’ll get your drink.” 

You turned back toward the espresso machine as he moved to start paying on his screen of the register. You were grateful to have an excuse to turn away from him, away from the magnetism of him, to have something to focus on and hopefully regain an ounce of your composure. 

Nanami collected his breath, grateful to have your sparkling gaze out of his immediate eyeline. It takes more focus than would normally be necessary to complete his payment. Fingers trembling over the ‘no receipt’ button, his eyes drifted up again. The large espresso machine in front of you hissed and dripped the fragrant, rich liquid into the small espresso cup underneath. 

“Is this your first time in?” Your voice rang like a bell in the empty cafe, you were pouring milk into a metal pitcher as you spoke to him, not missing a drop. 

So much ease, precision, the routine of skilled work over years of honing, everything was perfectly measured, foamed, and stirred. You clearly took care in what you did, your hands were so still and even as you tipped the small fridge door open with your foot to slip the milk carton back inside. The brief scream of the milk knocked him back into his senses. 

“Yes.” He answered, hoping to keep his internal chastisement out of his tone. 

You nodded watching the milk whirlpool in its small silver pitcher, “I thought so. I don’t think I’ve seen you in before. I’m basically always here, and I think I would have remembered you.” 

A blush heated your cheeks, but you discarded it as steam, pulling the wand from the pitcher and tapping its bottom against the counter. You poured the honey sweetened espresso into a small to-go cup, and topped it with a fair serving of water before meeting the lip of the pitcher with the liquid so the foam could slide perfectly across. 

Nanami watched the smile slide across your lips, cheeks pulling upward, a satisfied sigh leaving you as you perfected the drink. His drink. His. 

He shouldn't be acting like this, he just stopped in to get a quick coffee before returning to the school. The last assignment had been grueling, he was only just finishing it. Talk about Overtime. This was ridiculous, he had been in an awful mood before walking in, miserably dragging himself through the doors of the first lit up cafe he stumbled across. And yet here he was, his previously drained heart beating, no palpitating, in his chest at just a few exchanges. You finally turned back around to face him, presenting the drink to him without its lid, letting him see the perfect line of dusted cinnamon across the foam cap. 

“Here you are!” You beamed at him, hoping to see a flicker of a smile or some kind of praise. 

He didn’t smile but you thought maybe you saw something soften in him. He accepted it across the counter, bringing it up to his mouth and taking a sip. Then he smiled. He couldn’t help it. It was perfect. Perfectly sweet from the honey, but still letting the robust bitterness of the espresso shine, the body of the oat milk complimenting the two perfectly, making the whole concoction taste like a cinnamon and oatmeal cookie that he’d indulge in in some private, anonymous, curseless cafe that he thought only existed in his mind. But he may have found it. 

“Wow. It’s excellent.” His lens-guarded eyes warmed at you through their green filters, “Thank you.” 

A chrysalis was twitching in your heart, “You’re welcome. I’m glad you like it.” 

A moment passed as you waited for him to speak again, praying this interaction wouldn’t be over yet. The chime of the bell at the door broke you away from him, turning to see the beginning trickle of the morning flood enter. He was a nice enough guy, same thing every morning: four shots of espresso with two brown sugars in a porcelain mug that he would sit at one of the back tables in and read the morning paper no matter how ungodly early it was, but right now you wished he never dared step into your shop in the first place. When you looked back and saw the end of Honey Cappuccino’s motion to check his watch, he met your gaze once again. 

“Oh! Your croissant, I'm sorry.” You breathed out, kicking yourself for being foolish enough to think he was lingering to talk to you more, not waiting for the rest of his order.

“Right.” You heard from above you as you opened the pastry case. 

You retrieved the biggest, prettiest pastry for him and put it gently into a paper bag, straightening up to hand it to him. 

“No one going to work this early should go without breakfast.” You smiled, hoping to soften the blow of your unprofessional behavior. 

He nodded, accepting the bagged pastry, “Thank you, for indulging me so early. Next time I assure you I will be within the operating hours.” 

The chrysalis stirred again and you giggled its rhythm, “Don’t you worry. You come back anytime, okay?” 

He nodded again, before moving toward the door. You couldn't help the way your rubbernecked his exit all the way past the edges of the large shop windows. Turning back to the register and seeing your early bird regularly standing before you. Thankfully you knew his regular order by heart and could plug it in and nod through polite conversation without having to stop your rumination 

He had said Next time, implying he would come in again. You said a silent prayer to nothing that he would. At least so you could redeem yourself. So you could remind yourself and demonstrate to him  that you were a consummate professional. The rest of your day was spent smoothly, that tapping, fluttering feeling in your chest was quiet and still. You made drinks, cleaned and stocked the store, were courteous and charming with customers and coworkers alike. But you couldn’t get the man from this morning out of your mind, you didn't even ask what his name was. He would only be Honey Cappuccino Guy, for now, and that would have to be enough for now. 

Nanami entered the school still nursing the last dregs of the cappuccino, savoring the taste of honey and the memory of you in tandem. The high of your interaction was beginning to wane, the head and body ache of a night of reconnaissance and curse slaying an albatros growing denser and denser around his neck. He longed to finish his report and head home as soon as possible, already budgeting the allotment of time that felt appropriate for an early afternoon nap before resuming the chores he had left unfinished at home in a rare act of laziness. He hadn’t eaten his croissant yet, finding it rude to eat on the train, and his stomach felt barren, it seemed every part of him was echoing in discomfort. An echo that was seemingly non-existent in the warm light of the cafe. 

He sighed, rounding the corner to the small extra room that had been designated as his “office”. Not being a member of the teaching staff at Jujutsu High, there was little necessity for him to have a space of his own on its campus. He could easily complete his necessary paperwork in the common areas, or even at home. But Yaga had insisted on marking one of the empty offices as his, with some encouragement from a certain white haired sorcerer. The dwindling number of active sorcerers in the area was certainly a motive to keep each other close. So Nanami obliged, stopping by for meetings, assignments; both at their beginnings and upon their completion.  

This last assignment had been grueling, extending too far into the night, he almost felt dishonest filling out the time card associated with the final report. Nearly twelve straight hours of traveling, hunting, and fighting. It was a miracle he wasn’t delirious. He stretched back in his chair, the lactic acid that longed to settle in his back and legs crackling and redispursing. He found himself again remembering the lilt of your voice, the smell of lemon and sugar and fresh roasted grounds in the air of the cafe. The sense of peaceful indulgence carried him through the next two hours of work before he could drag himself home to shed the day and pass out, dreaming amorphously about flaky pastries and kind expressions. 

It would be almost two weeks before you would see him in the cafe again. You were restocking the milks in the small fridge underneath the counter that housed the espresso machine when the bell rang. It had been a dreadfully slow morning, mostly regulars and single, simple drink orders. It had given you plenty of time to clean, and fantasize. The large, well dressed man from eleven days ago hadn’t yet left your mind. His voice, his stature, his odd clothing, his demeanor. You were positive your memory had to have been generous the more and more you recollected the meeting, surely no one person could be so handsome. So charming, so, in the truest sense of the word, attractive. But when he stepped through your threshold once again, you found that your memory was ironclad. Tall, broad, sculpted features, odd glasses, leopard print tie, pristine styled hair, every detail of him was perfect. Your breath caught in your throat, but even that couldn’t interrupt the smile that widened on your lips. 

“It’s you.” you all but gasp out. 

He crosses toward the counter, a faint smile showing itself only on the edges of his lips, eyes wide and set on you, an expression you couldn't realize was mirroring your own awe. 

“You can say that about anyone. It’s always true.” His voice was just as smooth and even as before, you felt an all too familiar stirring in your chest. 

You laugh, “Good point. I didn’t expect to see you back. Thought I might have scared you off.” 

“Certainly not!” He can feel the burn in his cheeks, “You were kind enough to extend your hours for me. How could I not return to at least say thank you.” 

“Oh!” you chastised yourself for the twinge of disappointment you felt realizing he wasn’t here with any motive other than politeness, “It was no trouble really, it’s like the easiest drink in the world to make.”

He nods, “well, Thank you nonetheless, your work got me through the rest of mine.” 

You let out a low whistle, “That was one hell of a clock in time. Do you always go in that early?” 

“I was finishing up actually. Long project, I…lost track of time.” He wasn’t sure why he felt compelled to provide you with more information, ordinarily he would dodge questions in their entirety. Truthfully he would ordinarily never be in this situation to begin with, never having been one for casual small talk.  

“Wow…that’s intense.” you couldn't imagine working such a strange schedule, what extreme hours like that must do to a person, “what is it you do?”

This is exactly why Nanami does not engage in casual small talk, does not approach topics that could lead back to sorcery or jujutsu or anything related to his job, why he does not talk to the pretty girl behind the counter. Because now he has to lie. His heart sinks, but he steels himself. 

“I'm a sort of exterminator.” He answers smoothly. Not technically a lie. 

You hum, seeing him stiffen; you’ve seen this before, folks can be cagey about their professions, and particularly assumptions made about them based on what they do, you knew when not to pry, “Hm. You must have to be on your feet a lot.” 

He’s grateful you chose a surface level observation instead of prying further. 

“Well what can I get for you today? Got another long one in the books? Should I break out the hard stuff?” You smile warmly at him, catching his eyes. 

It's then that you realize he isn't wearing those peculiar glasses that he had before. Thick green lenses absent, and amber eyes revealed in their stead. The outermost rings of his irises were dark, oaky brown, his lashes were long but faint, small freckles now visible across his nose and dappling the tops of his high, hollow cheeks. Not only was your memory not being generous, he had somehow become more handsome. You took in a shaky breath, trying to ignore the stirring inside of you. 

“One cappuccino with honey, please. Just the same as last time.” 

“You got it!” You tap the corresponding buttons. 

He pays with a card, a chime sounding as he taps against the reader. He is grateful for an excuse to look away, it feels like every time he looks at you, you’re looking back at him, so intently. He feels studied by you, hot under your gaze. He wonders to himself if the blush he feels creeping up the back of his neck is visible to you. Your smile earlier made it begin its journey from the warmth of his chest up toward the tops of his ears. His harness feels too tight, his jacket feels stuffy and restricting. He reaches up as you finish up the payment across from him and tugs his tie looser, routinely unbuttoning the first button of his shirt. It's then that he notices his hands are sweating. 

Fuck me. Pull it together. He pleads to himself accepting the receipt as you turn away.

Back facing him you begin weighing out the espresso, you can hear his footsteps as he steps off to the side. You catch your breath, gearing yourself up for your next move. The drink comes together quickly. Honey, espresso, steamed and frothed oat milk, a small dusting of cinnamon. You giggle to yourself about the cinnamon on the creamy foam mirroring the dusting of freckles along his face. God, you're pathetic. You roll your eyes at yourself and inhale. You turn back to the counter before stalling. He wasn't waiting at the counter and you had, once again, been too frazzled to ask his name. 

“Uh…H-honey cappuccino?” Your voice wavered weakly. 

He crosses over from the other side of the cafe where he had been admiring the community board, where local artists would hang their work, organizers would add flyers for local events etc. He traversed the room in three long strided steps. 

“I’m sorry, I usually ask for a name, I forgot.” You explained. 

He accepts the paper to-go cup between you, “It’s Nanami, thank you.” 

“It's nice to meet you.” You smile. 

“And your name?” He is quick to inquire. 

You tell him, smile widening, he nods and repeats it softly. He sips from the black lid, ignoring the initial shock of heat. It's just as perfect as before, a small sound of approval resonates from his chest, you wish it had less of an effect on you than it does. 

“It’s perfect. You’re very talented, thank you.” He offers a small, polite bow before sipping again. 

“Like I said, it's an easy drink.” you shy away from his compliment. 

“Well, I’m grateful.” He begins to step away from the counter. 

“Thank you. Have a good rest of your day.” You put on your most professional and least loaded smile, “Come by and see us again Mr. Nanami.” 

He nods at you, smiling as he turns and exits the cafe. 

And he did come by again. And again. And again. 

Beginning as once a week, then twice a week, soon he begins to factor a third visit into his weekly routine. Coffee the same every time, including sometimes a pastry; taking a particular liking to the ginger and poppyseed scones, and the oat and lemon frosted cookies, but more often than both leaving with a simple croissant. One some trips the conversation if brief; shallow, single day focused conversation topics: weather, traffic within the cafe, the pastry selection you had out that day. On other days he would ask you questions: when did you learn to make coffee? Have you always lived in this area? Etc. Some days you would be so bogged down with making orders upon his arrival that one of your coworkers would be the one taking his order instead. You quieted the rising jealousy as you heard your fellow barista giggle and swoon at his rich, staccato voice. On those days you would write his name cleanly on the side of his cup and make sure to linger at the drop off counter as you called his name for his drink. 

“Busy in here, huh?” You baited, handing him the steaming cup. 

“It seems my favorite secret cafe is not so secret anymore.” Nanami’s voice sounded truly disappointed. 

You faked insult, “You think you discovered this place? I’ll have you know we’re a local staple!” 

He let out a small laugh, sipping his drink and sighing, “perfect as always, thank you.”

“Of course Nanami, anytime.” You blush at his praise, it never gets old. 

“WIll you be here next Wednesday?” He asked. 

He had never asked for your schedule before. You tried your best to hide your excitement. 

“I will! I’m opening. So feel free to stop by thirty minutes before if you're desperate.” you teased. 

He let out a guilty laugh, “ Well, I'll see you then. Well within operating hours, I promise.” 

You nod, a bit too quickly, “Sounds good.” 

He smiled and nodded again, turning and exiting. 

Your favorite coworker who had been working the register approached you, following your eyeline as it tailed him out of the cafe. 

“Planning on asking him out soon?” She poked your side. 

“No way, Nanami?” You dismissed, “Yeah right, he’s just being nice.”

“Right.” She begins, “because he comes here every week because the coffee here is just that good.” 

Her tone is cutting and sarcastic, she pushes your shoulder lightly before returning to the register, leaving you to your own thoughts. You hadn’t considered the fact that he could actually be coming here for you, of course you hoped and fantasized about exactly that, but faced with someone else’s observation you felt…strange. Embarrassed and exhilarated. You wondered what would come on Wednesday. 

“Thanks for taking me to coffee Nanami-san, You really don’t have to treat me!” Ino Takuma beamed as he walked into the cafe. 

He was beyond excited when his mentor had asked him to have a meeting today after training to discuss the upcoming recommendations. Nanami held the door for Ino as he babbled his way inside, reciting his thank yous over and over. 

“You’re welcome, Ino. I asked you here because I have something to discuss with you. Consider it an expensed lunch.” 

“Still! Thank you so much. I’m honored that you would make time for me, I know how demanding the schedule of a grade one sorcerer can be!” Ino continued, wanting to showcase how prepared he was to take on the demand himself. 

“Lower your voice,” Nanami chastized and pushed up his glasses, shielding his eyes as he scanned the population of the cafe. It must be a slow day, only three patrons to be seen. One sitting at the bar top, reading the newspaper, and a couple seated in the front corner, focused on splitting a pastry right down the center with a small butter knife. 

“Nanami!” 

Ino watched as the muscles in Nanami’s neck appeared. Not in frustration or exertion, the way he had seen so many times before, but a completely new reflex. Dare he think, excitement? He watched carefully as his mentor was urged forward by the woman behind the counter, the beautiful woman behind the counter. Nanami was quick to cross to the empty counter, Ino trotted behind with wide, watching eyes. 

“Good morning! It’s still morning isn’t it?” You smiled craning to see the wall clock. When you turned back your gaze fell to the slightly younger man behind Nanami. He was probably twenty or twenty one, his frame similarly toned and cultivated, hair shaggy and smile twinkling, “You brought a friend. Wait! Is this your brother?”

You looked closely between the two men, both handsome, both well made men with cut features and toned, imposing bodies. A similar height, a similar build. The younger man’s coloring was slightly darker; Nanami’s eyes amber, where his were deep oak, Nanami’s blonde hair contrasted against the other’s shaggy brown hair, but you could see where a family resemblance would reside. 

“No.” Nanami answers cooly, much to Takuma’s chagrin (despite its honesty), “Ino is an apprentice of mine, I’m treating him to lunch today because of his hard work.”

“Well, congratulations, it’s nice to meet you.  What can I get you both?” You smile, side glancing at Nanami. 

Ino blushes through his order, taken by how magnetic you feel when you talk to him. Privately watching how Nanami listens closely when you talk, uses his eyebrows more in his responses to you. You know his order, you sound flirtatious as you ask if he wants his “usual”, Ino sees as Nanami’s lips curl as he nods and selects two pastries from the case to accompany their lunch. Was Nanami…flirting? It seemed everytime you would turn your back, Nanami was catching his breath, and as soon as you returned he hung on your every word. Ino was beyond delighted, he had never seen this side of his mentor before. He watches as you complete the payment, fluttering your lashes and stringing your words together. When the order is complete he follows Nanami to a table in the back of the cafe.

“Ino, I wanted to ask you…”Nanami struggled with the next part of his request. He had found himself at a loss for what to do recently, feeling his standing with you plateau, “I hope you will forgive the candor of my question, In fact I- I am slightly embarrassed to even be asking you,”

“Go ahead, please. You have helped me so much, I’d be happy to try and help however I can. ” Ino had a growing suspicion as to what could have been the subject of his inquiry.  

“The…barista, what do you think of her?”

Nanami prepared himself for anything that could come next. Ino could laugh at him, Ino could laugh in pity before explaining that it was pathetic for a man of his circumstance to be entertaining the idea of a relationship. Ino could chastise him for reading into the kindness of someone who is actively working customer service. Ino could express his disappointment of not talking about the recommendations. He could call upon Nanami’s embarrassment for his own inexperience with flirtation. Nanami prepared himself to be exposed, shamed and cursed. 

“Oh! So you know she really likes you, I think she seems funny and smart. She’s really pretty, like really beautiful. I like her outfit, and hairstyle.” Ino began just as eager and delighted as he had been when Nanami invited him to lunch.  

“Wait, what do you mean she likes me?” Nanami’s brows inched together, although subtly. 

“Oh! Well, she smiles a lot when you talk and listens really carefully, and she called your name when we got here and…”

“That’s her job, she has to be polite and accommodating.”

“Sure,” Ino nodded, “But she seemed really interested in you, not so much with me. I don't know, I guess, but it just seemed like she liked you” Ino shrugged. 

Nanami was lost in thought as Ino trailed off. Could you really like him? Your encounters were so brief, he was so stilted around you, or at least he felt as much. You were accommodating and kind because you were good at your job, it was only natural that he recognized it as charm. He missed your call of his name, signaling the drinks he and Ino had ordered were ready. 

“I’ll get them!” Ino perked up, standing quickly and heading to the pick up counter. 

You pushed the two fresh drinks forward as the shaggy haired mentee approached the counter. He had the floppy stride of a well trained dog, bouncy and excited as he hurried over. 

“Thank you so much!” He beamed. 

“You’re so welcome, enjoy. Your food should be out soon!” You smiled back. 

“Hey, can I ask?” Takuma leaned in conspiratorially, “does he come in here a lot?”

You couldn't help but indulge the genuine curiosity in his voice, “A few times a week for about two months. How long have you been working with him?”

“About two years.” He answered, “I’m so glad too, he usually never takes someone under his wing like this!” 

You smiled, cocking your head to the side, “So he’s a big deal at work, huh?” 

Takuma nodded, “Oh yeah! He’s focused and hardworking, brave and careful.I hope to be half as skilled as he is one day.”

Your smile grew at the extrapolation. It was praise befitting of the man so dedicated to his work that he could be seeking out coffee at five in the morning at the end of his shift. The younger man nodded and couriered the drinks back over to the table. You thought you saw as Nanami’s eyes flashed over to you, but behind his glasses it was hard to be sure. You smiled all the same, just in case. You returned to your work, Ino and Nanami would both wave goodbye to you with mannered ‘thank you’s’ offered as they left after their meeting. You watched as Nanami held the door over his mentee’s head, ushering him out and looking back over to you. You looked away quickly, and when you looked back he was gone. Your lower lip settled in between your teeth, replaying your memories of him in a flash before returning your attention to the steaming milk whirlpooling in front of you.  

You didn’t see Nanami for three weeks after that. 

You were today’s closer, your shift already dragging far into the afternoon. The morning crowd was tired, desperate, and reliant upon memorized routine above all else. Simple orders, simpler conversations. The evening crowd was far more likely to experiment. They are unpredictable en masse in a way that your morning regulars were not, making it so that you had to be that much more attentive when discussing menu options. Not only that but you also had to clean and secure all parts of the cafe before you could leave. On a usual day this is fine, although a complicated and oft tedious dance, but today it is much worse. Your usual array of alternative milks were on backorder meaning you were running out more and more with every order, with now replacements on their way. Also dwindling in stock were multiple menu items, including both pastries and lunch menu components, flavors, even lids for to-go cups had started to wane faster than anticipated. You recalled a conversation with your manager that ended dismissively about the coming weekend and how poorly you were prepared to do your job effectively. Your concerns had been barely acknowledged at the best and outright discarded at worst. Over the course of the last three hours you had had eyes rolled at you six times, had to remake a drink four times, been asked why your stock was so low ten times, and had to give one full refund to a customer who took it upon himself to reprimand you personally for the lack of options available to him. You tried your best to push through but the orders kept coming, and the wait times grew longer and longer, you weren’t making nearly enough progress. 

“Switch out?” Your coworker offers to you marking your wide, scared eyes gazing at the growing number of tickets. 

“Please.” You nod turning to operate the register instead. 

They nodded taking over at the espresso machine from where you left off. You approached the counter just as a woman stepped forward from the line. 

“Hello! What can I get you?” You smiled brightly. 

“Well, I don't know yet…”She was already frustrated, “I’ll tell you in a minute.” 

She turned her gaze upward to the menu board above your head, rolling her eyes on the ascent. It shouldn’t have, but it brought a hot burn of tears to your eyes. Sure, she was being condescending, but you dealt with far more pointed forms of belittlement on a daily basis. Somehow though, after the day that had already transpired, you had to choke back tears. You felt yourself shut down in order to keep from crying at such a stupid remark. You took her order without incident, asking only the necessary questions and issuing the payment efficiently. Upon retrieval of her receipt she left the counter. The tears were threatening to spill over as you sighed in relief. In an example of the universe’s kindness you saw your coworker approach, indicating to you that it was time for you to take your lunch break. You passed her quickly as she entered the floor, grabbing your bag and rushing out the front door in embarrassment. Or rather, you tried to rush out of the door. As you scrambled toward the threshold you collided with something hard, it felt like you hadn't bothered to open the door at all, study and unmoving. You bounced back, feeling a rattle in your bones as you tried to gather your senses enough to turn your head upwards. Two strong hands gripped you in place. You gazed upon the face above you, looking down with wide, green guarded eyes. 

“Are you alright? I didn’t see you, I’m sorry.” Nanami’s hands moved up your arms to your shoulders. 

You haven't ever seen his face so worried before, eyes carefully studying you, brows furrowed, hands hard on your arms, “I--i--Its been..”

Nanami sees the tears well up in your eyes, brimming and nearly spilling over, “Were you going outside? May I join you?”

You nod and he ushers you out quickly, holding the door before following in stride as you hurry down the sidewalk. He watched as you pulled a pack of cigarettes from your purse, drawing one forward, long and thin, and continued to dig inside the bag, growing more and more frustrated. Nanami pulled his own lighter from his jacket pocket, a pristine silver zippo with the characters of his name engraved at the base. He lit the end for you and watched you savor the first drag. Your eyes closed and your lips plump and pursed around the filter. When you opened your eyes and exhaled you offered him a cigarette from your pack, and he took one. Smoking the same cigarette as you made him feel close to you somehow. He lit it as you plopped down on a smoker’s bench two and a half blocks from the cafe. 

“Bad day?” Nanami asked after a beat or two.  

You groaned in response, resting your head on your hands and your elbows on your knees, cigarette dangling dangerously close to your hair. He nodded, suddenly feeling awkward and ill prepared to comfort you. You had probably left the cafe to be free of customers and work, and here he was following you. Shame rose in his chest as he realized his imposition. All the same, Nanami stood next to you, smoking silently, trying to offer you the space you needed, space he had already intruded on. The wind rushed past the both of you, the coming fall air carrying the cigarette smoke away. It seemed to trigger the raising of your head.

“Do you like your job, Nanami?” 

He was surprised. Not by the suddenness of the question but by the sincerity in your voice, and the defeated look on your face. The tops of your cheeks were wet, your eyelashes damp, the usual casual smile you carried now replaced by a deep frown. The sight tore at his heart, until now you had been a consistent source of joy for him, he never expected to see you in such duress. 

“No. I don’t.” He confessed, it was always relieving to be honest about his distaste for sorcery, he made no effort to conceal how he felt, but when he has to do it every day he finds himself pretending occasionally. 

You nod, understandingly, taking the cigarette between your lips and sliding over, for him to plop into the seat next to you and continue, “Well I love mine. I know it’s silly, it's just coffee. But, I don't know, I like seeing people everyday, talking to them, providing something they can enjoy and indulge in, no matter what happens over the course of the day. Something they can rely on for comfort.”

You shook your head, already starting to chuckle at yourself for how stupid you must sound. Before that feeling could take root, Nanami cut in. 

“It’s important. It isn’t silly at all. These people come to you to provide them with a service they can not provide themselves, something you have spent years perfecting for their benefit. You sustain people with energy, you allow them space to rest and stay cool, you offer a moment of kind conversation in a time when people feel more lonely than ever.” His voice stayed even, almost stern, as he spoke to you. 

You watched his face as he spoke, similarly stoic. He was being overgenerous, far too complimentary of your work in something as brief as a coffee stop. You knew this to be the case, it had to be. But, his words echoed the same romanticism that filled you when you had first started in coffee, you did like the idea of providing for people, you liked having a specialized skill, you genuinely cared when your customers engaged you in conversations or told you their problems, human connection was the main draw of the job. And it was why you loved it. You were able to connect with hundreds of people a day, if only for a moment. 

“What happened today?” He inquired further. 

You sighed, “Not any one thing. Just one of the bad ones. I hate disappointing people, and I disappointed a lot of people today.”

“So what?” He responds flatly, taking a drag of the loaner cigarette.  

You’re shocked, a confused laugh leaves you. 

“So what.” He repeats, “if they are disappointed, then they can get over it. Surely the next time they stop in you will take the great care of them that they are used to.” 

His voice is sincere; as though it’s the most obvious, logical line of thinking available. You wanted to defend how bad you felt, to slip into your habits of valuing the negative outlook rather than compartmentalizing. But you can’t, looking at Nanami, with his kind, intelligent eyes looking right back into yours, you’re struck by the heart of his words. You nod reflectively, considering all the situations today where you could feel the disappointment coming from a customer; each situation would be easily fixable when more resources or corresponding orders came in. You had plenty of experience diffusing situations like this, you would be able to fix them all eventually, and anything you didn’t get the chance to — was out of your hands. 

“Thank you.”

 Nanami watched as the smile returned to your face. Your eyes had dried themselves, your back stood straighter as you finished your cigarette and extinguished against the sole of your shoe. He had smoked much slower than you, he wasn't a frequent smoker anymore, an old habit that lingered from needing quick getaways from his former office, so the nicotine buzz was starting to swirl his head, he noticed a small tremor in one of his legs that he recognized as his limit. 

You tucked the butt of your cigarette into a small outer pocket of your purse. Nanami followed your motions, extinguishing his own and handing the double checked no longer burning butt to you. You tucked it inside the same pocket, holding them there to dispose of properly later in a real trashcan. Smoking was bad enough for the environment, you didn’t need to add litter to the equation. Some silly, overly whimsical part of you treasured the idea that the remnants of his mouth and the remnants of yours were in there together, getting cozy. 

He shared that thought with you, although privately. 

“How long is your break?” Nanami asked, wanting to scrub his mind of the thoughts of the indirect kiss between the two of you occurring in your pocket. 

You reached across his lap and took his left wrist in your hand pulling it over to you. His heart stopped, he didn’t dare breathe, immediately conscious of the smoke on his breath wouldn’t disturb you. You had never touched him before, excluding the collision that brought the two of you out here. Nearly three months of over the counter exchanges without a single instance of contact, broken here, with your warm, soft fingers touching the thin skin on the inside of his wrist. He watched your face as you looked at his watch. 

“About ten minutes left.” You sighed. 

You looked back at him, your hold on his arm had brought him closer, much closer than expected. You still held his wrist, his face couldn’t have been further than eight inches, you had never been at eye level with him before. You could see his face so much closer and clearer, you could see the pores on his cheeks, the discoloration under his eyes from overwork and lack of sleep, you thought you saw some deeper discoloration around the side of his eye, but brushed it off as shadow. Your eyes flicked down to his lips, thin and shapely, a full bottom lip with a soft rosy hue. When you met his eyes again you could see through his glasses, seeing that his eyes were trained on you  just as intently. You felt that familiar stirring and buckling in your chest that had become so synonymous with your feelings of excitement around him. He was so close, so focused on you, you felt intimidated, and observed. You released his rest, back into his lap. 

“Thank you, Nanami. I needed that.” You sighed, looking away from him, trying to break the growing tension between the two of you, “I’m sorry you had to see me like that, I promise I'm usually better at this.” 

Nanami shook his head, similarly thankful for the severing of intensity, “don’t apologize, I understand. I’m glad I was here.” 

You took in the sidewalk and the street, the cool early fall air around the pair of you, the weather was perfect. Beautiful sun, chilly air, the smell of coming evening rain. You stood, brushing the back of your pants off for any eager fallen leaves that you had been previously too frustrated to notice. He stood quickly to meet you, adjusting his coat and sleeves to busy himself. You two took another moment to adjust yourselves before locking eyes again. You offered him the kind smile he knew so well. 

“Are you ready to head back?” Nanami cleared his throat. 

You nodded, feeling much more grounded, and grateful for this moment of respite. You walked back together, not needing to exchange words, just simply walking side by side the all too short two blocks back to the cafe’s door. Once you reached the door Nanami stalled. Something in him changed, an aura you hadn’t seen in him before 

“Would it be okay if I came by later today?” He asked, not quite looking at you, but over you and into the cafe behind you. 

“S-sure, of course.” You felt yourself shrinking, the embarrassment of how vulnerable you had just been creeping in in a vignette, shading the moment of connection you had just shared with him. 

Nanami gave a clipped nod, looking around once more before turning his gaze down to you. 

“Okay. I’ll be back here tonight. Take care of yourself.” He nodded once more before turning and heading back down the street, 

“W-wait, did you want your coffee?” Your sentence began as a call but faded into a whisper as you realized he wouldn’t be turning around. 

You watched his silhouette descend the path, turning and disappearing into the city. You weren’t sure exactly what happened, what you had done or what had called him away. But before you could dwell too long you heard the voice of your coworker calling to you, asking you for help back on the cafe floor. You looked once more down the path that Nanami had left down, before returning inside to finish your shift. 

The rest of the day passed as well as it could have, and regardless of how grueling it was moment to moment, the time passed anyway, and once the cafe had cleared itself and the hiss of the open sign was made silent, you found yourself alone. The bakers had completed their prep bakes for the next day, allowing them to cool in the large industrial freezers overnight, the other baristas had swept and mopped before clocking out and returning to their own homes. You stood behind the counter waiting on the espresso machine to complete its last cleaning cycle. Nanami hadn’t come back as he said he would, and while you were alone you didn’t feel like hiding your disappointment. You scanned through what you could have done wrong, everything you said, everything you did, suddenly all felt wrong and overly familiar. You’d scared him off. But scared him off from what, you couldn’t figure out. According to your coworkers, he was flirting, and you knew you were, at least to some degree, however fruitless you considered your efforts. 

You were too bogged down by your spiral to hear the shlucking sound coming from the back. The espresso machine's routine of purging and clicking was too loud for you to hear the store room push itself open. It wasn't until you heard the broken, amalgamated voice calling out that you felt the fear slash itself up your spine. You couldn’t decipher the words, they were too garbled, like that of someone underwater trying to speak to you through an AM radio. The pitch was too high for your ears, and too low to even exist. You stood completely still, no one else should have been able to enter the building, the only unlocked door was the front, large lights and plenty of people making it safer than exiting out the back. Some instinct in you was holding you completely still, restricting you from being able to turn around and see where the sound has come from. You couldn’t think, you couldn’t move, the only thing you could think about was your coworker set to open tomorrow, and what ungodly nightmare was she going to have to walk into. Tears fell from your eyes, the wetness of your cheeks snapping you out of your paralysis, your body shaking as you started to turn and face what was coming. 

“Don’t turn around.” Nanami stood in front of you, his usual tan jacket removed, moving his sleeves up his arms, his gaze locked behind you. 

Your breath found you again, chin quivering with fear and relief at the sight of him. 

“Close your eyes.” Nanami’s voice was darker than you had ever heard before.He looked completely different, intense and large and imposing, if you didn’t know him you could have been scared of him, “Trust me, you’ll be fine. Close your eyes.” 

You squeezed your eyes shut, immediately missing the comfort the sight of him provided. You heard a thunk, a grunt, a slash, and then nothing. 

“You can open your eyes.” Nanami’s voice came from right behind you. 

You turned around quickly, seeing him standing over a pile of knocked over cups and pitchers, holding what looked like a butcher’s knife wrapped in cow print fabric. His yellow tie that you had grown to admire as a symbol of him was loose around his neck. He was still looking down at the ground. Once he seemed satisfied with whatever it was, he looked back at you. 

“Are you alright?” He asked, sheathing the paddle looking blade on the brown leather holster on his back, you had never noticed it before. 

“What the fuck was that?” You couldn't help the tears that fell from you as your body started to shake harder and harder. 

Nanami put his hands on your shoulders, his grip tight and soothing, “I’m sorry you had to see that. But it’s gone now, I assure you.”

You couldn’t help yourself, you started sobbing falling against his chest. He held you tight against him, letting your tears soil his shirt and your body tremble in his arms as he held you firm. You wept until openly, feeling no shame, there was no room for shame with all the fear and adrenaline vacating your body. He made no move to quiet you or tell you to calm yourself, he simply held you close. 

“Can I take you home?” Nanami asked, his voice resounding from his chest where your ear was pressed. 

You nodded. 

Nanami had started sensing the build up of cursed energy on his last visit before bringing Ino. It was faint enough that he couldn’t place if it was coming within or from the general street. On his subsequent visits he noticed it growing exponentially, building on itself in a way that was inching toward concern. His selfish motives for bringing Ino to the cafe were overshadowed when he picked up on it as well. Confirming Nanami’s suspicion that it was an internal problem, and one growing more and more dangerous by the day. Earlier today was the first time he had noticed its effect in action. You tear stained face, the disgruntled patrons, you fevered, overworked companions. He knew he had to intervene. He had come after closing hoping you had already gone home, hoping to take care of it quietly before it became a larger problem. It wasn’t until he saw you terror-stricken with a low level curse emerging from behind that he conceded he would have to tell you. He didn’t want you to have to experience any of this, you shouldn’t have to face the reality of this world, and the monster’s within it. You deserved the same ignorance as everyone else outside of sorcery. But it was no longer his decision. 

He walked you home, which wasn’t far from the cafe, and up to your apartment. You unlocked the door and stepped inside, he hesitated briefly before following you. These aren't the circumstances he had anticipated for his first foray into your living space, but again, it was out of his hands. 

“You said ‘it's gone now’, what is ‘it’?” You asked as you locked the front door behind you, check the peephole for anything out of order. 

Nanami sighed, “It’s…a lot to explain, most of it would be incomprehensible right away. It would take me hours to make it all make sense. And that isn't a slight against you, it’s because I know you're smart that it would only take that long.”  

Your voice was returning fully, the fear having left itself behind at the cafe, “Nanami, you knew. You knew that whatever it was was there, you…killed it? Drove it away? Would it show up here? Do I need to be worried about this thing coming here?”

“No.” he was quick to shake his head, “It’s dead. Well it wasn’t ever really alive, not really. But you don’t have anything to worry about, anymore. I’m sorry it got that bad.”

“Please just tell me.” You groan, “Whatever it is, I can handle it.”

And he believed you. So he told you. 

It took nearly four hours, one and a half pots of coffee, and a few crudely drawn diagrams on the back of a take out menu that he drew. But eventually you understood that what had attempted to attack you was a curse, and that curse had likely been building over a series of months or maybe years before it reached this form. He was a sorcerer, a kind of soldier tasked with the exorcisms of these curses in an intensely guarded organization dedicated to keeping curses secret and the public safe. The young man, Ino, who he had brought with him is a sorcerer as well. He explained the rank of threat, and how yours was incredibly low for any skilled sorcerer, which apparently, he was. He showed you the blade he kept on his back, the one that had been hiding just below his jacket for the entire time you had known him. He explained to you how he was able to kill the curse in a single strike, how his technique worked. When his explanations had been completed you felt strange. Stuffed to the brim with new information, most of which terrified you and made you feel powerless against a threat you could have gone through your whole life without knowing about.  But a part of you felt good, knowing there were people kind enough and skilled enough to make this an insular problem, one that did not necessitate the knowledge of the general populace out of sheer humility. 

“I understand that this must be a lot for you to take in. But, I promise you that what attacked you tonight will never show its face again. I can give you a talisman, something to keep in the cafe to keep it safe from future curse development.” Nanami had taken off his coat and harness, his blade lay on your coffee table alongside his glasses and your purse. 

“Was that why you left so quickly today?” It may have been a silly thing to inquire about in the wake of so much life changing information, but you couldn’t hold your tongue. 

Nanami nodded, “I had to run back to my..boss basically, and get a formal assignment to exorcise the curse. I’m sorry I left. I didn’t want to. When we got back the energy was too strong, I knew I would only have a few hours.” His apologized, setting his nearly complete coffee cup on the table, “But I had to make sure that nothing happened to you,” after a beat he adds, “or your coworkers.”

“So you, you saved my life tonight.” You whispered. 

The front pieces of his hair had fallen out of their usual styling, they now hung in front of his face. Through the sandy strands you met his eyes, looking tired and locked with yours. The faint bruise on his brow suddenly made sense, the bags under his eyes, the serious demeanor, it was all recontextualized. You didn;t stop your hand when it traced your middle finger over a small, well healed scar along his eyebrow. 

“I wouldn’t say that.” Nanami conceded, usually not one to accept praise for his work. 

“Nanami you saved me.” Your hand cupped his cheek, “I would be a mess for someone to clean up tomorrow morning if you weren’t there.” 

He was speechless, your hand on his cheek was warming as heat crept to his face. Your eyes were so big and beautiful, your lips looked so soft as they shaped your gratitude. 

“Thank you.” 

“I’m glad you’re okay.” Was all he could choke out. 

You had read about this. After near death experiences, or other instances of extreme adrenaline, the body could have all kinds of after effects; nausea, sleeplessness, exhaustion, arousal. The arousal coursing through your body was a natural side effect of what you had just been through, and what was right in front of you. He had been there watching over you, keeping you safe from threats you couldn't even imagine. Every day he returned was another day that he was caring for you, protecting you, trending to you. His skin was smooth and hot under your touch, the hair of his sideburns was soft under your fingers, it felt like every nerve in your body was turned up to a thousand. The quick hatching chrysalis was nearing its emergence, it was so still as you leaned closer to him. 

“You must be tired. I can go, if you need to sleep.” His resolve was faltering. 

“If you aren’t busy, I know it’s been a long night,” Your hand traveled down to his shoulder, the barrier of his shirt helping him regain some sense, “I think I would sleep better if you were here. Just for the night?”

The cock of your head and the flutter of your lashes made your offer clear. Nanami’s cheeks became more pronounced as he tried to swallow down the burning desire to have you right here. But he, too, had read about the aphrodisiac effects of adrenaline. He knew that there was a chance that your gratitude and your exhilaration were converging inside of you to make you feel like you wanted him, when you were actually just happy to be alive. 

He put his hand on your arm, “Sometimes, when someone has been through something like what you have, they may look for…other forms of excitement to help with the adrenaline dump…it’s very natural..”

The back of his neck was hot, his shirt felt too tight, his pants felt much too tight, his mouth was so wet he risked drooling right in front of you. But he couldn’t take advantage of this moment, it would be wrong. He liked you. Ino claims you liked him, but he doesn’t know for sure, it would be deplorable for him to act on this offer without knowing if this is something your right mind wanted. 

“I’ve read that before.” You nodded, looking at his hand wrapped around your forearm, he was so big, “I’ve never experienced a curse before.”

He nodded along with you, still watching your mouth move. 

“But, I’ve experienced attraction before, Nanami. I know what it feels like to want someone. And I want you.” You told him, pulling your legs up under you on the couch.  

A small shake from his head, “It’s just psychosomatic. You’ll feel better in the morning, or after a shower. It’s the adrenaline.”

“I don’t think I had excess adrenaline the morning you came in first. Or the next time, or earlier today outside. Nanami,” You dipped your head down to look up at his, “Nanami, please. I’ve been too scared to say anything, I didn’t want to seem unprofessional or scare you. But, I like you. I really like you, I think you're gorgeous and kind and funny. You’re brave and smooth and a little weird, but I like that.”

He scanned your face for signs of lying, twitching eyes, avoidant eye contact, swallowing, anything that he could rely on to keep himself from getting exactly what he wanted. But he found nothing. Nothing to let him off the hook of being honest about how he felt. 

He let out a heavy breath, his hand on your arm growing tighter, “I fell for you the moment I walked in. Everytime I went back I went for you. To see you. I think you’re so beautiful and charming. I don’t want this to be wrong.”

You shook your head, your hands returning to his face, the one he had on you now moved to the back of your couch, “It’s not wrong. Nothing about this is wrong.”

He grips your hands, looking you right in the eye. You see his pupils have grown wide, you can feel the sweat on his palms, mixing with your own on the backs of your hands. He held you right in front of him, looking over every inch of your face. You were gorgeous, His heart pounded in his chest, like it was reaching for you. He let out a grateful breath. 

“Thank god.” He couldn’t wait any longer, and neither could you. 

The both of you leaned forward in the same moment, meeting at the perfect center of both pursuits to press your lips together. The chrysalis inside of you hatched, the beating of your heart, the flapping of wet, quickly drying butterfly’s wings. He touched your neck, downy hairs at the nape of your neck soft under his fingers. He was quick to pull you by the waist into his lap. His tongue was smooth on its entrance into your mouth, tasting the underside of your own, the backs of your teeth, the coffee you had shared. The kiss was heated and smooth, personal styles learning to blend together. Your arms wrapped around his neck, hands in his hair, over the back of the couch, anywhere to offer you stability. Nanami’s hands gripped your waist, sliding under your shirt and feeling the first of the body he dreamed of. Kicking himself in the privacy of his own home for thinking of you so disrespectfully. But in your home, on your couch, with you in his lap, he wanted to worship you. The hands he had cursed for pleasuring himself to the thought of you were not reverent as they felt your hips, your ribs, the sensitive flank inbetween. He could feel your shiver as he made his way back and forth, you were sensitive there. He was toying with you, relishing in your hissing inhales, and your breathy moans. But you were never one to be toyed with, you tested a personal theory of yours, one you had formulated with your hand in your panties on nights when sleep wouldnt come and you looked to your own devices to tucker yourself out. You scratched your nails across the cropped undercut at the back of his neck, gripping and tugging at the hair. Nanami let out a strangled moan underneath you, his hips bucking into yours, and his hands gripping you tighter. Just as soon as his mouth left yours, he found your exposed neck, kissing, practically lapping at the skin there. This pulled the more embarrassingly pitched moans out of you. High whimpers as you keened against him in his lap. 

“You’re so beautiful, you’re so good, fuck.” He peppered his praise in with kisses along the column of your throat. 

You haven't heard him swear before now, the words fell from him so easily. He was clearly practiced, it made you wonder what other sides of him came easily that you hadn’t yet seen. 

“Yu-you are,” You could feel your brain covering itself in honey, the saccharine sweet feeling of him under your, on you, all around you, consuming your ability to think. 

You felt him smile against your skin, pulling off of your neck and sliding his hand around to the back of your neck. 

“I-I don’t do this very often, it’s been a while, please don't tease me too much.” This was the softest you had ever heard him, his voice was breathy and it almost came out as a beg. 

You looked down at him sweetly, his hair mussed across his forehead, buttons of his shirt seeming to have undone themselves, tie falling to either side, his chest flush in splotchy red patches. He looked stunning, the light of your living room you had previously considered unflattering, was golden hour. 

“We can take it slow, if you want.” You offered, wanting to accommodate him, the way he had already for you. 

He shook his head leaning forward and readjusting you on his lap. When he settled you back down you realized the reason for his frantic reaction. The very big reason. The pants tenting, hot, probably leaking, reason. 

You nodded, quick to understand. You leaned forward to kiss him again, making sure to grind yourself down in his lap before pulling off completely and grabbing his hand, tugging him behind you. Nanami felt drunk following you to your room, found himself almost stumbling as he unbuttoned the rest of his shirt. He crossed the threshold to your bedroom where you had already pulled your work pants off, standing in only a thin tank top and your panties. You approached him with mock disappointment and your bottom lip between your teeth. You moved your hands over his chest.

“I wanted to be the one to take off your shirt,” You cooed. 

Nanami’s hand found the lapels, “I can button it again if y--”

You giggled, “Next time.”

Before pulling him into another deep kiss by his neck. His hands found your hips, eager to slip one finger under the top of the waistband and feel the hidden skin. You slid his shirt down his shoulders, the tie falling along with it. Your lips smacked together over and over as you both tried to touch as much skin as was available to you. You pawed at the hard lines of his back, feeling ridges and valleys and muscles. He, similarly, was quick to find the hemline of your shirt and slip underneath. You both let out a haughty moan as he cupped one of your bare breasts. IF you had had your eyes open, you would have seen his eyes roll back in his head as he slipped his tongue between your lips once again, squeezing the tit in his hand. You freed your arms and pulled the shirt over your head as he undid his belt. 

“You’re so gorgeous.” Nanami gazed over you. 

“You’re gorgeous.” You echoed, hopping on to the bed and watching him pull his grey slacks down his legs. He wore a pair of navy colored briefs that hid almost nothing, especially the nearly black splotch of precum that had accumulated. 

“Fuck, you’re hot.” You marveled at him, his body, the evidence of the effect you had on him, his face, him, all of him. 

Nanami sucked in a quick breath, fighting his embarrassment by looking at the hungry look on your face. You were nearly naked on the bed, waiting for him. You had only your panties on, your chest exposed, nipples once puffy now hardening with excitement. Eyes trained on him, mouth panting and swollen from his kiss. He could see a small bruise forming on the side of your neck, he would apologize in the morning, flowers or breakfast, but for now it was all his to admire. He joined you on the bed, climbing over your body to do so. His torso caged you in completely, wide shoulders shadowing over your frame. He pulled you by your thighs. Taking time to stretch your legs and admire the muscle and skin and fat that made up your gorgeous form. He seemed impressed with your flexibility, at least the little click of his tongue indicated as much. His clothed cock pressed right against your panty clad pussy, both hot and begging to be aligned. He pressed his hips a little as he brought one of your ankles to his lips, kissing the ball, then up the calf. You moaned at the wet kisses, relishing in his affection. He looped his thumbs into your panties, releasing your leg so he could pull them from your legs. Nanami caught your eyes before spreading your legs in front of him, you gave him the go ahead and he sank before you, aligning himself to see your pussy spread open for him. If he wasn't drunk earlier, he was now. Sticky, dripping, gorgeous. He couldn’t hold back, he licked a long, wet stripe up you slit, tasting his first of you. 

Your body was on fire, completely electrified, and weightless underwater all at once. His tongue made its home between your labia, sharp nose being buried in your mound. Your back arched off the bed as a wanton moan left your wet mouth. Your hand flew to his hair, finding a grip for you to cling to. Your other hand held your breast. Nanami’s tongue flicked itself up and down, kissing your clit, drawing out more and more arousal from your dripping hole. 

“Fuck, you taste so good.” He says, soft enough to be just for himself. 

You can't respond, only mewl as he sucks at your clit. You release your breast and grip on to the headboard, accidentally pulling yourself away from him. Nanami grabs your hips and pulls you back onto his tongue. 

“Come back.” He mumbles, again, almost to himself. 

“N-Nanami, i-..”You are cut off by another harsh suck to your clit, his tongue circling inhumanly. 

You were so close, it usually would have taken you much longer to orgasm but the excitement coursing through your body and his skill had turned you to keening, pathetic putty in mere minutes. He flicks his golden eyes up at you, watching you start to unravel. He knows what to do, or rather what not to do, he carries on exactly as he has been, every flick of his tongue pulling you down further. It became too much, and you bubbled over. You cried out in white out pleasure, pulling on his hair. Your legs clapped around his head. He drank up everything you gave, your moans upsettingly muffled by your flesh over his ears. 

When he felt you relax again, he pulled his mouth from you, a thick, gossamer string of spit and cum connecting from his lips to your pussy. The hand from his hair fell to his face, pairing nicely with his blown out eyes and fucked out expression. He caught his breath while looking over your body, your full breasts, your tummy rising and falling as you caught your own. He moved over you once again, kissing you deeply. He tasted like you, his tongue was heavy and hot in your mouth, his hands were fast to rid himself of his underwear and pull your legs over his bare hips. You could feel the length of his cock pressing against your throbbing, overly sensitive cunt. Your outer lips, now much more sensitive from Nanami’s expert work. 

“You’re amazing.” You gasped out against his mouth. 

He hummed pridefully, kissing you again. He grinds his hips hard, hoping to prepare you further for what's to come, but he miscalculated, a rare occurrence. Both of you let out long, glorious moans as he pushes himself inside of you, all the way to the hilt. Nanami shudders briefly before gaining his strength back, you dig your nails into his back, but he cant feel anything except the pulsing of your pussy around him. He may never be able to think again, not of anything other than having the hot velvet muscle between your legs tight around his cock. You whimper at his penetration, feeling him press the deepest parts of you. Tip of his cock kissing your cervix, just as passionately as he kissed you. He was not a small man by any measure, and the entirety of his cock probably made up close to eight inches, with the girth to burn as it stretched you open. 

Which he did again, catching your panting lips on his own, quick kisses between caught breaths as you both adjusted to the feeling of being joined together. He pulled his hips back, pulling a shaky moan from you, and pushed in once more. Somehow he reached even deeper than he did before, his cock arching up to press that beautiful, spongy spot inside of you, the spot that made you clit throb and your eyes squeeze shut. 

“Look at me, baby.” Nanami pleaded, “I wanna see your pretty eyes.”

Your eyes flutter open, a drunken droop to the lids as he thrusted again. He found an even, well paced rhythm. Kissing you occasionally, when one of you wasn't gasping out in bliss. Your hand moves up one of his arms, gripping his taut bicep and his sinewy shoulders. He pressed his forehead to yours, looking down your body to see his pelvis meeting yours. His cock throbbed inside of you at the sight, in turn making your walls grip him tighter. You pull him back to your lips, wanting to be consumed by every sensation he could give you. His hand by your head grips the pillow hard, ripening a hole in the casing. You move your hand up to meet his, holding it and interlocking your fingers. His grip softened instantly, becoming as sweet and generous as ever part of him had been already. You felt him twitch inside of you once more. Followed by a choked moan. 

“I-i, baby I,” Nanami struggled to get his words out as he drove himself further and further into you. 

“Please, Nanami, please.”You held him closer with your thighs, purring out his name. 

“I didn't put on a condom,” He struggled to collect himself, he knew he could be responsible with you, “I should..”

“Dont pull out,” You whine, sounding more pitiful than you intended, “please Nanami, cum inside me, please.” 

He finds your eyes quickly, his heart melting at your big watery pleading eyes. You swollen lips, you drooping, drooling mouth. How could he deny you? Nanami made quick work of chasing his own climax, thrusting harder, fucking faster, holding your body still underneath him. You feel every thrust in your throat. His pace quickens and his thrust become shallow and choppy. Nanami lets out a delicious, languid moan as he cums. You can feel his thick cock depositing load after load of cum into you. An elongated, uninterrupted E sound. He holds you at your hip and when your hand still holds his. His face is now buried in your neck. Your legs are slung over his hips along with your other hand over his shoulder. He thrusts twice more before stalling, having emptied himself, but not yet gathered the desire to pull out. When he finally comes to, he releases your tender hip and pushes himself up from above you, looking down at you. You pant up at him, taking in a post-coital vision of him you never expected, and he, the same. He flushed, sweaty, messy, drool and cum drying on his chin, hairstyle ruined by your grasping. You imagine you looked just as disheveled by half as gorgeous. Nanami, would of course, disagree. He kisses you again, soft and deep. When he finally pulls himself out of you he takes the spot to the right of you in bed. You lie together, allowing your bodies to return to a blissful equilibrium. You roll onto your side, moving a hand over his stomach. 

“So you’ll stay the night?” you gave a sly smile. 

And he laughed. Truly laughed, before kissing you again deeply. 

And he did stay the night. After a quick shower the pair of you returned to bed and slept soundly in each other's arms until he got up before the sunrise to make it back to his apartment with enough time to change before work. He kissed you goodbye and assured you he would come by the cafe. And he did, he met you right at the end of your shift, a bundle of flowers in one arm. He invited you to a home cooked dinner at his place. You were surprised at his determination to make you an established couple, but not even close to put off by it. 

“I know it’s a little unorthodox, but I am about to start a new assignment and it’s shaping up to be a lot of work. I may be indisposed for a few days. I’d really like to see you again before then” He explained as he walked you home. 

“I’d love to,” You giggled, kissing his cheek and admiring the bouquet he had picked out, “Where are you going for your assignment?”

“Shibuya.”

OOOOOOOOOOO SURPISE, anyway hope yall like it and came good. Love you all, thanks for 150 followers. Also im on my barista high horse a little, but just be normal and nice to people, and if you'd tip a bartender, tip a barista. it's the same job. I hope this was worth the wait. I have work in fiv ehours. -Doodle.

[seeingivy]

brutal

eren jaeger x f!reader

**part of my canary mate fic

previous part linked here

--

[busstopbilly]: My song recommendation for the day is brutal by Olivia Rodrigo. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: i beg ur pardon….

[lizontopoftheworld]: first of all. CRAZY choice for 7:47 am. who hurt you? 

[busstopbilly]: Car troubles. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: second. how do u know this song…. do u talk to other girls…. 

[busstopbilly]: Does my little sister count? She’s the one who told me about the song. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: ok period never mind. so she’s basically a real one for 1. listening and 2. putting you on 

[busstopbilly]: Would it bother you if I did? 

[busstopbilly]: Talk to other girls? 

[busstopbilly]: :) 

that was always the line that the two of you toed. on a day to day basis – making jokes about the one thing that you never seemed to talk about. 

that things, at least on your end, felt dangerously real at times. that when someone at the bar asked you if you were seeing anyone, your first thought would always be yes. because it felt wrong to say no. 

you were convinced that if you knew him in person, he’d be your boyfriend. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: DO YOU? 

[busstopbilly]: I can say it again. Would it bother you if I did? 

[lizontopoftheworld]: tbh wait

[lizontopoftheworld]: you’re obviously your own person. i was obviously just joking AND if you are talking to someone else it wouldn’t bother me. that doesn’t affect the fact that we’re friends and talk to each other here and there AND i would be very happy for you if you did because you deserve it 

that was the other thing. anonymity always presented a certain fear. that one day, he would stop responding. 

and that he’d be lost to you forever because you’d never be able to find him again. no identifying features, a vague username, and the conversations left as a reminder. 

[busstopbilly]: Wow. It usually takes the 3 o’clock slump to get you rambling about how we as people are deserving of the good, honest love. What gives? 

[busstopbilly]: For what it’s worth, no, I do not talk to other girls. Besides my sister and my mom, obviously. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: YIPEEEEEE 

[busstopbilly]: What happened to “that wouldn’t bother me”? 

[lizontopoftheworld]: ….next question. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: your sister seems cool. can i meet her someday? 

[busstopbilly]: Hilarious. 

[busstopbilly]: Yes, you can. 

you’re thrown out of the conversation by three consecutive honks – and sasha waving her arm out the car door – as you shoot one last message. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: my ride is here! have a great day billy boy :D 

you close your phone as you climb into sasha’s car, noting the two iced coffee cups in the holder, as you shoot her a smile. 

sasha offers to drop you off at the hospital on the way to the lab. 

it’s something that she does often – suggest that you run errands with her, study with her at the cafe, walk together to the lab. there’s moments where you feel bad about it, that she dictates the friendship so much, because you’re never one to suggest it at first. 

it’s not your fault that this aspect of friendship felt like it was foreign to you. or that it seemed like something you’d never be able to overcome. 

you didn’t grow up with friends that functioned like family. they always felt more transactional – though that was almost by design, on your part. 

“good morning sash.” 

“nico made you a coffee!” 

you smile. 

“awful kind of him.” 

sasha gives you a smile as she hunches over the wheel, looking over her shoulder, as she turns on to the street. 

“he just feels bad about the party you know…when he…” 

“threw up all over my shoes? yeah. i recall.” 

“he’s sorry! and he made you a sweet iced hazelnut coffee to make up for it.” 

you smile, shaking your head as you reach for the aux cord in her car. 

sasha had a penchant for being indecisive, a little bit too stuck in the situation sometimes, down to the details. you knew deep down that niccolo probably didn’t care much about the vomit and hadn’t thought about it since – and that she was trying to save imaginary face by gifting you a coffee in his name. 

it was hard for her to participate in things normally, in her words, with people who felt like they were high stakes. 

it was one of the reasons that she loved to hang out with you. she said it was easy to tell that you didn’t care much about that type of thing in the first place.

you wondered if it was a compliment – that you were so palatable to people’s taste. or a comment on how you felt so adaptable that there was nothing rigid or cemented about your personality to warrant a second thought.

“oh wait. this is an olivia rodrigo song right?” sasha asks. 

“yeah.” 

“aren’t her songs like…like really sad?” 

“i guess. a good amount of them are.” 

“i hate sad music. it just makes me so….so…” 

you try not to laugh. 

“sad?” 

sasha rolls her eyes. 

“you know what i mean. i listen to the song and then i start thinking about how i relate to it. and then i start wallowing.” sasha comments. 

“i do that too.” 

“god, isn’t it such a waste of time? sometimes it’s like…so overwhelming that it takes over my entire day. i can’t do anything but sit there and just feel it all.” 

and there was the key difference between you and sasha. it always made itself apparent, in almost every interaction that you had with her, but it said more about the way your rotten mind was wired to work, than her temperament. 

she seemed to repel the idea of sadness. you wallowed in it.

it was something that you thought about often when you looked at sasha. when you looked at yourself in the mirror. that her smile seemed to fit perfectly on her face – bright brown eyes that lit up whenever she talked, two dimples that were always visible on her cheeks, and an infectious smile.  

sometimes you felt like light didn’t fully reach the center of your eyes. that your smile didn’t look right on your face – that it did, but it just didn’t look like hers. infectious. encouraging and warm. 

that sadness sat in all of your wrinkles and lines and that it was there to stay. that no matter how you tried, it would always be there. 

“yeah. i’ll change it. bad start to the morning.” you state. 

“plus, you need all the luck you can get.” 

you groan. 

“don’t remind me please.” 

eren didn’t seem too happy to have you involved in his project. and that made two of you. 

you could appreciate that he was organized – scheduling mandatory meetings a week in advance, letting you bring his undergrad since he was bringing his – and never sparing you a second glance beside it. 

what you couldn’t appreciate was that he didn’t seem to want your help at all. you understand why it was warranted, especially for someone like him. you knew for a fact that he would have zero shred of bedside manner, no way to interact with patients that was sensitive or appropriate – since he couldn’t even seem to do it with normal people. 

making comments about jean and sasha, refusing to talk to anyone besides levi and hange at dinners, being so arrogant about the entire thing that he thought he was above it. 

you wonder how him and grisha jaeger were even related. 

you reach for the coffee, trying to banish the thought and the impending irritation that arose from the thought of both of them combined, just for it to consequently spill all over your top. 

“oh my god.” 

one of the ice cubes slithers all the way down the bottom of your shirt, landing in your lap, as you miserably eye the horrendous dark brown stain coating your white button up shirt. it sends a wave of goosebumps down your skin – the stickiness of the syrup and the ice cold liquid, as you can’t help but groan. 

sometimes it felt like these types of things only happened to you. 

“sasha.” 

“he must have not closed the lid properly. he didn’t do it on purpose!” 

you turn to glare at her. 

“i mean, obviously not. do you have napkins? or a spare shirt by the grace of god?” 

“napkins are in front in the glove box. and no…niccolo just took all my shirts out the other day so he could wash them.” 

you give her a wry smile. 

“of course he did.” you joke. 

“i swear to god. he didn’t mean it!”

the napkins do little to fix the mark – except smear it farther across the fabric – as you give her a dry laugh. 

“i know. relax.” 

“you’re not mad right?” 

“no. just anticipating some comment from eren about dress code and professionalism, that’s all. if anything, that makes my entire thing easier since he can’t pick on something else i was doing wrong that i was seemingly blissfully unaware of.” 

you give up after two minutes of dabbing, most of the wetness drained from the shirt and the stick gone from your sing, as you turn to sasha. 

“what are you going to work on today?” 

“mikasa’s project. well mine, but hers, you know?” 

“yeah. does she at least seem excited about it?” 

“i mean, it’s insane experience to have as a project lead. i don’t know why she wouldn’t get in the next time.” 

“that’s true. plus, six spots and none of the people in the program are affiliated with the lab so, she has a good shot.” 

“i just hope she gets it. i would end up on the news if i got rejected as second time after putting in all that work.” 

sasha rolls right up to the front of the hospital – and you note that she awkwardly eyes the stain – as you give her a smile. you can see eren sitting at the front bench, gabi and falco sitting by his side, as you swallow down the contempt in your mouth.

you clear your throat, catching all of their attention, as you note all of their expressions. gabi and falco have a total pinch of pity in both of their eyes and eren just looks irritated as they eye the stain.

“you have to be kidding, right?” eren asks. 

“sasha drove me here and her…boyfriend didn’t put the lid on the coffee properly. it’s not my fault.” 

“do you have another shirt?” eren asks. 

“obviously not. you think i’d show my face before his excellency without it?” you ask. 

that earns you a laugh from falco and gabi, who you turn to give a smile to, before looking back to eren. he rolls his eyes, making a dramatic show of pinching the bridge of his nose, as he digs into his pocket. 

“this is your badge. maybe we can get you one of those bright pink shirts from the gift shop.” 

“eren. don’t be a dick. just give her your shirt.” gabi states. 

erwin had decided to pair gabi with eren and falco with you, just based on compatibility and interests, and it was one of the reasons that you had utter faith in erwin as a leader. 

gabi had a penchant to keep eren on his toes. she wasn’t exactly afraid of his bitter personality, but instead, very eager to win him over. 

it reminded you of when you first met eren and thought you could do the same. though unlike gabi, you quickly decided that it was a lost cause. 

“what?” 

“you’re wearing an undershirt, aren’t you? just give her the button up.” gabi states. 

“gabi. wearing a short sleeved t-shirt here isn’t exactly professional.” eren responds. 

“you know what’s even more unprofessional? letting one of your team members look bad when you can help them. no offense, y/n.” 

you smile. 

“none taken.” 

“they’re going to give us white coats that’ll cover up your arms. but it won’t cover up the stain, so just be a gentleman, and give her your shirt.” gabi states. 

eren gives her a menacing glare – though you think that he just looks like that, that it can’t intentionally be by design to look so hateful all the time – while he ponders the thought. he must have a soft spot for gabi or something, probably something that reminds him of the sister you’ve heard briefly about, as he reaches down and starts unbuttoning his shirt. 

“falco, gabi. go check in at the desk at the front.” 

you watch as the two of them scuttle off, giggling under their breaths as they run through the round-a-bout doors. you turn to eren, who hands you the shirt, as you shoot him a smile. 

“thank you, eren. i really appreciate it.” 

“next time, anticipate being prepared.” 

you roll your eyes. was it impossible for him to be polite? 

“do you want me to carry a spare of every article of clothing for me in the off chance that i spill something on myself?” 

“off chance is a little kind. it literally happened just now.” eren mutters. 

you bite down on your cheek as you put his shirt on, tucking in the excess fabric into your pants. you unclip his badge from the shirt and hand it over to him, as the two of you join falco and gabi at the elevators. 

eren clears his throat as the four of you enter the elevator, shooting gabi a look, as she drops her conversation. you turn to falco and give him an eye roll – your frustrations with eren well known to him – as falco steps back and joins you. 

“gabi. what’s a lesion?” 

“areas of damaged brain tissue. all the patients we’re seeing today got their brain lesions from injuries that they got, but you can also get lesions from certain diseases.” gabi repeats. 

you hate that eren does this. makes her learn through fear of disappointing him. falco told you that she spent all of her free time outside of the fellowship memorizing as much as she could to make sure that she would get all of his questions right. 

“what region are we looking at today?” eren asks.

“hippocampus this week. amygdala next week, but there’s a focus on the temporal lobe.” 

you spare yourself as you tap falco on the shoulder, lowering your voice. 

“how’s your brother doing?” 

falco gives you a shrug, as you reach forward and squeeze his shoulder. two week ago, you gave him the entire week off because his brother got into a car accident – and from what levi had told you, he had yet to recover. 

“same old.” 

“if you need anything, can you let me know?” you ask. 

falco awkwardly reaches for the back of his neck, pushing down the ends of his hair, as you exit the elevator. 

“i’ll let you know, okay?” 

you give him a nod as you catch up to eren and gabi, the two of them holding out the white coats to you as you pull them on and walk into the briefing meeting. 

--

the day goes well for the most part. you’re counting your lucky stars through the training that it’s mostly basic procedures, sanitation rules and the such, and you’re just going through the motions. 

it goes well for the most part, until the very end. and it’s almost like you can anticipate it – eren having a horrible interaction with someone that would put you off – that it’s almost laughable. 

you interact with one patient at the end of the day, just to screen if they wanted to participate in eren’s study. and of course, he has to push the limits and ask a question that goes too far. 

it just bothers you that it was gabi on the chopping block. 

“okay, the patient’s name is gabriela alvarez. she’s from the area, she got injured in a motor cycle accident. her family isn’t here since they all had work, so it’ll just be her. we’re just going to walk in, ask her if she wants to participate in the study, and then fill out screening forms. if she declines, we’ll just leave.” 

you all give him a nod. 

“gabi. what is it?” eren asks. 

“what? nothing.” gabi responds. 

“you made a face when i just said that. is there a problem?” eren asks. 

you hate the tone. he could have just asked her if something was wrong – not insinuating that she had a problem. 

“no, eren. i’m good. i’ve just never done this before.” gabi states. 

“don’t worry. that’s why y/n and falco are here. they have experience with this type of thing.” eren states. 

you and falco turn towards gabi, giving her a smile. 

“we can lead for this one if you wanted? just so you could see how it goes?” you ask.

gabi shakes her head, immediately turned off by the thought, as she gives you both a halfhearted smile back. 

“no, no. i got it, i’m here for a reason.” 

you swallow down the retort as the group of you walk in. that her not taking the lead wouldn’t insinuate that she wasn’t meant to be here. that she could learn without being put on the spot.

despite the fact, eren seems to lead the entire thing. gabi doesn’t have to worry about talking, because eren barely lets her get a word in – with a prerehearsed spiel you’re convinced he practiced in the mirror. 

“we would really appreciate if you could participate in the study. it’s totally optional, but it would really help us better understand the nature of the injury and help other people in the future.” eren finishes. 

arrogance. 

the lady’s barely forty years old, a kind smile like sasha’s – sweetness that melted into her skin – and it made your chest pang that she seemed confused. sitting in a hospital room, alone. listening to people like eren jabber all day, with no one to consult or talk to for advice. 

and there’s silence, an awkward silence where she’s supposed to respond, and after the fact, she turns to look at gabi. 

“you guys would take my information?” she asks.

“it’s all removed when we analyze it.” gabi offers. 

“but…but there would be record of all my information and such that i did it?” 

gabi sighs. 

“no one can have access to it. it’s just so that we note down who did the experiment, that the results weren’t falsified.” 

gabriella seemes turned off by the idea entirely, shaking her head. 

“i would love to help, but…but you know i can’t.” 

you watch as she bores her eyes into gabi’s – and shockingly enough – that she reaches forward and grabs her hand. 

“i know. i’ll talk to them about it. i’ll see you later, okay?” she murmurs, quiet enough that you can barely hear it. 

eren turns to you, giving you a questioning look, as you shrug. the four of you subsequently leave the room and eren doesn’t waste a single second in the hallway. 

“do you know her?” eren asks. 

gabi gives him a nod, barely meeting his eye. 

“yeah. yeah, she’s friends with my mom. they’ve known each other for a while.” 

“so you know why she won’t do it?” eren asks. 

you nudge him in the side. 

“you can’t coerce people into participating, eren.” you note. 

“i’m not coercing her. i just want to know so that we can keep it in mind for future patients. change up how i market the entire thing. why won’t she do it?” eren asks. 

you watch as gabi gives him a nervous look, eyes flickering in between him and falco, as she scrunches up her shoulders. 

“gabi. you obviously don’t have to answer. don’t feel the need to share anything too personal.” you offer. 

gabi gives you a smile before turning back to eren and it’s almost like you can see it in her face. that she’s folding. 

“she met my mom through the church that we go to. she also gave my mom a contact for an agent that can help her apply for...citizenship. she’s undocumented, like my mom is, and that’s why she won’t do it. if the reviewers look into the validity of the study and look into her status, she…” 

“they wouldn’t do that.” eren offers, voice almost quiet. 

gabi sighs. you swear there’s a glistening sheen in her eyes. 

“i know. but she doesn’t know that. there’s a fear that comes with this type of thing and…” 

it hits a nerve. it hits a nerve and you think it’s horrible – you think eren’s horrendous for putting her on the spot like that, for questioning her further – and you hate him for it. 

“okay, gabi. well, we’re done for the day anyways, so do you want to go get the car?” eren asks, holding the keys out in front of her.

she gives eren a smile, as she nods and takes them from him. you turn to falco, giving him a beckon to follow her, as he shoots you a grateful smile and speed walks behind her. the two of you watch as they wave from behind the elevator, before you note the empty hallway, and turn back to eren. 

“you’re an asshole.” you state. 

eren looks up from the file in his hand, eyes wide, as he looks up at you. 

“i beg your pardon?” 

“i know you heard me. you’re an asshole. you had no right to push her into sharing something that was obviously personal for her. and you have no right to be so hard on her all the time.” 

eren flips the folder shut, tucking it under his elbow, as he digs his hands into the pockets of his white coat. you can tell that he’s irritated – that he can’t hide the malice in his eyes – and it drives you insane. 

that he still has the audacity to be mad. 

“i’m hard on her?” he asks. 

“of course you’re hard on her. she spends all of her free time memorizing useless facts that teach her shit about what it’s like to do research. you should be supporting her, asking her questions that encourage her to explore what it is that we’re doing on our own, why we made the experiment the way that we did. you have to know that this does nothing for her.” 

eren rolls her eyes. 

“and you want me to do what? coddle her like you coddle falco?” 

“excuse me?” 

“you don’t need to walk him through every line of code that he writes. he can find articles to read and explore on his own, you’re setting him up with bad expectations that he’s going to find easy help when he has to do this on his own.” 

“is there something so wrong with that? getting help? god forbid i give him a good foundation on the things he has to know before putting him in the deep end.” 

eren rolls his eyes. 

“being helpless is how you learn.” 

you glare at him. 

“you might get off on that type of thing, but i certainly don’t.” 

“what type of thing?” 

you sigh, balling your fists at your side, as you try to stop your voice from wavering. 

“she’s been trying to vye for your approval since she met you – and…and you kept asking. you made her feel like she had to give that to you, so that she could get points. it’s cruel and senseless, using something like that against someone. especially when it’s something…a situation that’s so foreign to you. you have no idea what it’s like to struggle like that. and on top of that, you’re going to be an asshole and make her get your car? so yeah, you get off on that type of thing. acting like you’re better than people, like you have a right to know, because you’re important.” 

eren sighs. 

“and what makes you think i didn’t know already?” eren asks. 

“what?” 

“i know you heard me. what makes you think that i didn’t know already? because gabi actually told me one of the first days that she got here. i’ve known for some time because she’s actually trusted me enough to tell me – not because i cornered her into it for brownie points.” 

eren seems to lean closer, looming over you as he looks down at you. 

“i don’t coddle gabi, because that’s something that doesn’t motivate her. the same way it’s something that doesn’t motivate you. i know damn well from the way you look at sasha and hange, hange and annie, that you think that it’s something you want. being buddy buddy the way hange is with us. but i’ve known from the second i met you, that you live for that type of thing. proving yourself, having to work for someone’s approval, because it won’t motivate you otherwise, the same way it won’t motivate gabi. there’s a reason that you got paired with levi, y/n. there’s a reason you’re so pissed off watching her work for it – because you have some insecure sense of self worth that you don’t deserve to be here and you’re scared she feels that way too.”  

you swallow down the bile in your throat. 

“are you watching me or something?” 

“only because you irritate me just as much as i irritate you. don’t think that i don’t turn my nose up at everything you say and that i don’t notice that you do it to me too.” eren responds. 

you bite so hard into your cheek that you swear you draw blood. 

“are you done? how long did that one take to rehearse in the mirror?” 

eren clenches his draw. 

“no. i’m not the asshole that makes his undergraduate student get his car. i got a flat tire and she offered to drive me here. i had her key, because her pants don’t have pockets.” eren responds, stalking towards the elevator, as you begrudgingly follow. 

it’s an awkward elevator ride down, completely silent until the ding, as the two of you walk out to the front of the hospital. the suns dipping down into the horizon, as gabi and falco lean against eren’s car, quietly talking. 

you give them a wave, the two of them sitting up, as you and eren walk up to them. 

“eren. can i talk to you for a second?” falco asks. 

eren gives him a nod, gesturing for him to follow towards the left, as you take falco’s spot next to gabi. you eye the two of them, noting falco’s characteristically nervous hands moving rapidly as he talks to eren. 

“what are they talking about?” you ask. 

“falco’s going to ask eren if colt can do the trial. he has lesions…or…or falco thinks he might, he just can’t remember right.” 

you look over at him. 

“he isn’t getting any better is he?” 

gabi shakes her head. 

“falco says that colt doesn’t even remember him.” 

you nod. 

“listen. i wanted to talk to you about something, if…if that’s okay.” 

gabi looks over at you, eyes expectant as you look down at the uneven gravel. 

“my mom recently got her citizenship status. my dad’s is being processed right now and…and it’s because my brother married an immigration lawyer. she’s really good and…and she could help you. and i can cover it for you, if you need me to.” you state. 

“what?” 

“she is really good. i can’t promise anything but, it’s worked out well for us, if you want another opinion.” 

gabi gives you a smile, cheeks almost pink as she follows your suit, staring down at the ground. 

“i couldn’t let you pay for that.” 

“she owes me a favor…and she’s my sister. i know we don’t know each other that well but, i…i get that this type of thing can….i don’t know.” 

you pause. 

“i just want you to enjoy your summer here so that you can see if research is your thing, no stress. i know it can be a lot at times.” 

gabi gives you a smile. 

“i’ll think about it, okay?” 

“please don’t hesitate, okay?” 

“i won’t.” 

eren and falco trail back to the two of you – falco and gabi giving each other a smile – as you turn to look at eren.��

“i want my shirt back tomorrow.” eren states, giving you a glare. 

“i’ll dry clean it for you, your highness.” you respond, giving it right back. 

“do you need a ride, y/n?” falco asks. 

you turn to him, giving him a smile, as you nod. the two of you trail into the parking lot, as you quietly sink into falco’s passenger seat, and nearly pull at the front strands of your hair. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: you gave me a bad omen. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: truly is brutal out here. 

[busstopbilly]: Tell me about it. 

[busstopbilly]: In a shocking turn of events, the wallflower actually cussed me out today. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: HELLO? 

[lizontopoftheworld]: woah it’s been so long since i’ve heard about her. what gives? don’t tell me she did it again?

[bussstopbilly]: Oh, she definitely did. 

[busstopbilly]: I swear to god, I despise her because she’s just like everyone else. She thinks I’m exactly like my dad. It’s almost like she makes it a point to bring it up. That I don’t understand because everything came to me easily. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: you’re obviously not like your dad 

[lizontopoftheworld]: you’ll be out of this thing soon 

[busstopbilly]: What happened to you? 

[lizontopoftheworld]: stupid idiot asshole misogynistic ugly prick 

[busstopbilly]: But of course. 

[busstopbilly]: If it’s any solace, he only feels the need to put you down because he knows how great you are. It wouldn’t be a thing to him – he’s purposely making it into a competition becuase he feels inferior. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: i guess 

[busstopbilly]: Tomorrow is another day. 

[busstopbilly]: And you shouldn’t listen to sad songs when you go home. 

[lizontopoftheworld[: BOOOOOOOOOO

[lizontopoftheworld]: but it’s so fun 

[busstopbilly]: Maybe. 

[bussstopbilly]: I just don’t want you to cry or feel like you’re defeated. I hate thinking that you’re sitting there feeling like you don’t fit in. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: i don’t 

[bussstopbilly]: And that’s a good thing. Research, that type of career – it’s already filled with monotony. 

[busstopbilly]: You make things interesting. You’re there for a reason. 

[lizontoptheworld]: you make me sound so important 

[busstopbilly]: You are important. In more ways than one, obviously. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: chronic flirt….

[busstopbilly]: It’s good for your health. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: normal people eat vitamins. or like workout or something. 

[busstopbilly]: We’re not normal people, are we?

you can’t help but smile. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: no. of course not. 

[busstopbilly]: :) 

[busstopbilly]: You and me, Liz. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: my song is ribs by lorde 

[busstopbilly]: Because I’m the only friend you need?

[lizontopoftheworld]: so observant 

[busstopbilly]: Eh. 

[busstopbilly]: Only for you.

--

an: hehe

taglist: @invisible-mori @multiplefandomthings @chericos @wheredidmycrowngo @chaoticpxnda @aizzon @stuffeddeer @butterfly-skinnylegend @najaemism @hellokitty-doll @constanciandrea @iblamesusy @jaegersdiary @f4irygard3n @misadear @fell-4-u @coyloves @sobbangchan @you-always-made-me-blush @th0tformikasa @yell0wdreams @itzmeme

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Collide (6)

Hi guys!

This new chapter is a little bit more angsty but also very sweet 😇

Please enjoy!

TW : Injury, nightmares, mention of bad past, angst.

PART 1 I PART 2 I PART 3 I PART 4 I PART 5 | PART 7

______________________________________________________________

You didn’t give Alessia all the reasons for your nightmares, not because you don’t trust her, but because you don’t want to put her in front of the darkness of some people. When you see her the next morning for breakfast, Leah singing in the shower, it was without daring to look at her that you spoke.

"Less?"

"Mhm?"

Lost in her thoughts until now, the blonde looked up at you. You are leaning against the island of your kitchen while Alessia is seated at the table. You are never very in talking much in the morning, both needing time to wake up.

"You know, for last night…"

"You don’t have to explain anything to me" Alessia kindly assured you with a smile. "It’s okay"

"I know" you answered with a slight smile back. "It’s just that sometimes my dreams are a little too realistic. Things have happened in my past, but… well, you know."

It’s a very awkward explanation, but the blonde didn’t seem to want to hold it against you.

"And thank you, for staying and being there for me" you mutter shyly.

"You would have done the same for me"

The calm, safe tone that Alessia used made you look up at her. She’s not wrong, obviously.

"Yeah. I know you already have your share of best friends, but I’m happy with the place you’re taking in my life. You’re more like a sister to me than a simple friend"

Alessia’s chair rattles on the floor when she gets up, something that would have made you moan in everyday life. But since it’s to offer you one of her biggest teddy bear hugs, you don’t take the time to scold her, choosing to hug her back.

"I love you too" she whispers affectionately, rubbing your back.

Even if it’s not exactly what you told her, you understand the message and you hug her back even harder. That’s when Leah showed up in the kitchen, ready for today’s game.

"Molesting my girlfriend again, Russo?"

********

You and Leah are in the restaurant face to face when you talk about the subject that has been bothering you for a few days. It’s not a huge stress, but you’re wondering how to approach it, fearing a negative response from Leah.

The evening is going well, you have already come twice to this restaurant and each time you liked it very much. The choices are not multiple, but there is enough to satisfy your cravings for culinary discoveries and the list of foods rather restraint tolerated by Leah. The blonde is breathtaking in her outfit, once again, and you are happy to see that she made this clothing effort just for you.

It’s at dessert that you finally broach the subject, swinging nervously on your chair.

"Besides, I was wondering… do you have any plans while I’m away?"

You are called to training camps for the national team, Norway having to pass the play-offs to qualify for the next competition. With England already being on, Leah is kind of on vacation next week.

"No, not really. Probably spending time with my family, seeing Alex… that kind of things. Why?"

Leah looks at you curiously over her ice cream and you play mechanically with your spoon and a piece of cake.

"Would you like to come with me?"

"In Norway?"

You nod at her, without daring to look at her. The only time you offered it to Alina, she laughed and asked what the hell she would do there. You may not have chosen the best time since it was in summer and most people prefer to fly somewhere warm, but still.

"I thought I could show you some places I like and grew up in. And my parents have really wanted to meet you, since I’ve been talking to them about you. You can say no, if you don’t want to. There is no pressure and I will understand."

Leah’s hand gently settles on yours, making you look up at it immediately and stop your rambling.

"I'll come with pleasure Honey."

The simple answer makes you feel so relieved that you feel like your anxiety is deflating like a balloon.

"Yeah?"

"Of course"

"Awesome"

You can’t mask your smile, which makes Leah laugh softly. Her hand gets loose from yours when she starts eating her ice cream again, but you don’t take it personally. You have neither confirmed nor denied the rumors of relationship between you, preferring to live your story day by day. Plus, who are you against a mint chocolate chips ice cream?

Leah asks you what kind of clothes she needs to take and you laugh when she pouts when she learns the temperature differences between London, Oslo and your hometown. You have already spoken to her several times about your parents and she doesn’t seem otherwise stressed at the idea of meeting them. She’s right, you know your parents are going to love her very much. You’ve been working on it for a long time now anyway.

"Oh and there will surely be Mapi with Ingrid too" you inform Leah with a little amused smile.

"Excuse me?"

********

A few days later, you are on the plane to Norway, with some of your compatriots but especially Leah. You have another flight of a few hours to reach Tromsø, where you lived and grew up until you were stupid enough to want to run away with your first girlfriend to a bigger city. Having met her on the Internet, you have no memories with her in this city, which pleased Leah rather well. It’s not exactly the same for Oslo, but we’ll talk about it later.

Your parents, delighted to have their only child for a few days, have both picked you up at the airport. If Leah hasn’t been stressed in the last few days, she seems to have skyrocketed in the last half hour and the blonde didn’t stop talking for a single second. It made you laugh, but remembering how stressed you were when you officially met Leah’s relatives, you patiently answered each of her questions.

"It’s going to be ok Babe" you smile when you see her playing nervously with the tag of her suitcase while waiting to pass the security.

Since you are behind her, you step forward to put a kiss just behind her ear and you smile as you feel her letting her go against you. In recent days, it was rather her role to reassure you, the blonde fearing that your nightmares came back constantly. That hasn’t been the case, but Leah’s increased attention to you hasn’t been unpleasant. Especially because it means you get even more hugs and kisses than usual.

You have one of the biggest hug from both of your parents at the same time, before detaching from them to turn to Leah and make the introductions. As you might have guessed, the first contact is more than successful. Your parents speak English very well, which is lucky. Leah speaks a few words of Norwegian that you taught her, but she might not be able to have an ongoing conversation in that language.

On the way home, your parents ask you about the trip and your level of fatigue. If you slept during the first flight, the second not. They also inquire about what you are planning to show Leah over the next few days, also informing you that they are planning a dinner with some of your family members. Your cousin will come to see you play in Oslo too, this will allow Leah to meet her before finding herself with her in the stands of the football stadium. Your parents will be there too.

Dinner goes well (you made sure to give your mother the list of things Leah eats) and the kindness of your parents seem to help Leah relax quickly. You show her the house of your childhood, finding your bedroom that you had at the time.

It's a fairly simple room whose only large window overlooks your garden. Your double bed is glued against the back wall in the middle of the wall with your collection of stuffed animals. Your black carpet on which you have spilled paint hundreds of times above is at the feet of it, giving in your opinion an artistic touch to the latter. There are old trophies you won with your football teams on a shelf, a desk full of memories and useless things in its drawers and dozens of photos hanging on the wall.

"Is that you?" laughs Leah as she approaches the photos on one of your bedroom walls, picturing you behind your first birthday cake.

"No, that's the neighbor" you answer with a grin.

Leah laughs again and you let her discover your room quietly, taking the opportunity to join the bathroom adjoining your room to change and refresh a little. You see Leah entering the bathroom too from the mirror, which allows you not to jump when she sticks to you to put kisses on your cheek.

"How are you feeling?" you ask the pretty blonde.

"Good. Your parents are adorable, but it’s not surprising when you see their daughter" Leah says maliciously.

You roll your eyes and close the water tape, then turn in her arms to put your arms around her neck. That’s all Leah needed to put her head on your neck and put some kisses in it.

"What about you?" she asks between two of her kisses.

"I’m glad you’re here" you smile.

********

The next two days were spent in Leah discovering your hometown, your favorite places and different members of your family. As you would expect, Leah are doing perfectly well in the setting, getting along wonderfully with everyone. Despite the difficulty of the language sometimes, but you gladly play the interpreters between the two different worlds. Only the cold seems to be a bit of a problem for Leah, but you are in the very north of Norway, even further north than if you were in Iceland.

One day before the day set by the Norwegian federation, you fly back to Oslo. You managed to get a room for Leah in the same hotel where your team is staying and you’re counting on your family to keep Leah busy during practice. You don’t know yet whether you’ll be able to slip into her room at night, but you’ll see. For the moment you share the hotel room with Leah and it suits you very well like that.

While waiting for the gathering, you show Oslo to Leah and you have an appointment for lunch with Ingrid and Mapi. The idea that the two blondes meet makes you laugh a lot and you know that it’s the same thing for Ingrid.

"Does she speak English?" asks Leah as you join the restaurant where you are supposed to meet.

"She understands it very well but answers Ingrid in Spanish. But I'm talking English with her, even if she speaks great Norwegian. Anyway, I never had any problems communicating with her."

Leah drops a little grunt as a simple answer and you roll your eyes. You managed to get from Leah that this tension would have been born since the elimination of Spain during the Euro, which is in your opinion a little futile.

"You’d better pass over. Ona and Lucy don’t seem to have this problem" you noted with amusement.

"Don’t count on me to coo with Maria Leon" grumbled at Leah.

"I don’t ask that much" you laughed before changing the subject.

You are the first arrivals and you inform Ingrid of your presence once seated at the table. Leah asks you some more questions about the city, which you answer with pleasure, happy to see your girlfriend take so much interest in your native country.

A few minutes later Ingrid and Mapi arrive, and you get up to greet them, imitated by Leah.

(The words in italics are in Norwegian but for the good of all I have not translated them)

"It’s good to see you" Ingrid smiles, hugging you before looking at you. "You look good."

"It’s fresh Norwegian air" you joke, before resuming in English. "Ingrid, this is Leah. Leah, this is Ingrid."

You let your best friend greet Leah, knowing your girlfriend is in good hands when you hear Ingrid greet Leah in a joyful tone. You turn towards Mapi, to whom you also give a hug. You then turn to Leah to redo the presentations, between Mapi and her this time. The exchange is a little more tense than with Ingrid and you roll your eyes when you see them shaking hands, but it’s already that.

The conversations finally go very well, even if Ingrid and you are very often the ones who link things. Leah’s hand settled right at the beginning of the meal naturally on your knee and you didn’t hesitate to interlace your fingers.

After the meal, you decide to take advantage of the mild weather (the term makes Mapi snorts) to go for a walk a little more. You know you’ll see Ingrid again in the next few days, but if your respective girlfriends can get along well and discover commonalities, why not.

"Hot chocolate?" offers Ingrid when you walk past a hot drink stand to take away.

"I’m coming to help you" you tell Ingrid, dropping Leah’s hand to follow her to the booth.

"I like her" immediately announces Ingrid in line to get your drinks. "You did well about listen to yourself"

You smile softly, your chaotic beginnings being far behind you now. Well, only a few months but a lot has already happened between you and you feel so good with the blonde that you have the impression that all this is far behind you.

"She’s great, really" you answer always smiling.

"And you look so happy" Ingrid adds without leaving your face with her eyes.

"I am" you confirm sincerely.

You have no trouble supporting Ingrid’s inquisitive gaze, which nods with her smile. You don’t have to add anything to convince her, but she will tell you a little later that she already was just by hearing you on the phone.

"Look at them" you laugh softly pointing at your two blondes.

Ingrid follows your gaze on Leah and Mapi, both talking from the tip of their lips at eachother as if they were afraid of being seen by someone. The scene seems to amuse Ingrid as much as you since she also laughs before it’s your turn to order.

Your return is greeted with a big smile on both sides and if Leah isn't begged to recover her hot chocoalt, she also doesn’t hesitate to put her arm around your waist. There are fewer people on the streets of Oslo than in London, but if Leah is spotted in the stands of your next match, people will probably quickly draw the right conclusions.

It’s finally in the late afternoon that you say goodbye to the couple who must join Ingrid’s family for dinner. You propose to Leah to show her the citadel, the nightfall offering you magnificent colors. Leah graciously accepts when you ask her to take pictures together before you return to the hotel.

It’s on the way back that your eyes are hung by a shop front that you know rather well. Your glance is noticed very quickly by Leah, who slows down a little. She understands very quickly.

"Do you mind if we say hello?" you ask Leah.

She seems to hesitate a little and you gently tighten her fingers in yours, trying to make her understand that you will respect her answer regardless of her nature.

"I guess" she finally answers, shrugging her shoulders.

You drag her to the tattoo shop, the doorbell ringing when you open it. It hasn’t changed much since the last time you came, except that other drawings were added to the wall. Leah quickly spots your signed football shirt on the wall.

"Y/N"

Leah’s eyes follow the sound of the voice to fall on a young woman of your age, whom she hadn’t seen. The girl gets up from the desk behind which she was half hiding, resting the pencil she had in her hand to come to you. Well, right up to you because she’s hugging you for a warm embrace. What annoys Leah a little, she was often talked about Spanish and their tactile side but she was never warned that in Norway we also went without stopping touching her girlfriend.

"I didn’t expect to see you! How are you?"

"I’m fine" you answer with a smile, casually getting out of her arms to introduce Leah.

You slide an arm in the hollow of her back to advance her to your height, resuming in English.

"Nora, this is Leah. My girlfriend."

If the blonde couldn’t help but feel a touch of jealousy, she can only smile when seeing the smile and the pride with which you designate her. Finally the ball is put back in the center quickly, she thinks, before extending her hand to the tattooist to greet her.

"I don’t speak good English" Nora apologizes to Leah.

After your blonde assured her that it was fine like this, Nora’s attention turns to you and you exchange your latest news. You didn’t lie to Leah, you didn’t have any recent contacts, the jersey she hung on her living room wall was from the last international game you played before moving to Manchester. Leah quickly notices this by paying more attention to the frame. She also realizes that a photo of you and your tattoo are displayed just below, under your jersey.

What she doesn’t appreciate is the affectionate tone with which Nora seems to talk to you. Leah therefore takes care not to let go of your hand for a single second during your exchange.

"Does she know about us?" asks curiously Nora after a few minutes.

As if she had understood that you were talking about her, Leah looks away from the photos of tattoos displayed on the wall to report her attention on you two. You smile at her before you answer Nora.

"Yes. I don’t think there’s much she doesn’t know about me" you answer honestly and shrug your shoulders.

You are interrupted by another couple of clients entering the establishment and Nora apologizes for taking care of them, letting you drag Leah a little back from the entrance.

"If you tell me that it’s on her tattoo table that you did your disgusting business, I’ll burn the store" whispers Leah from the corner of her lips.

You laugh softly as you hear her, glancing at her in astonishment. You did notice Leah’s touch of jealousy at first, but there was nothing special about the rest of your conversation.

"This isn't where we did our disgusting business, likeyou say" you smile and roll your eyes. "You can calm your inflammatory tendencies. Plus, I have done way more disgusting things with you, Williamson."

"Not if she keeps looking at you like she does" the blonde grumbled, ignoring the second part of your sentence.

"Don’t be jealous" you say while tiptoeing to put a kiss on her cheek.

"You slept with her"

"It was a long time ago. I find the best one since"

"Hm."

You roll your eyes one more time and you cross her eyes without letting go of your smile. Leah ends up not being able to hold her smile and you deposit a new kiss, on the corner of her lips this time.

********

A few hours later, in your hotel room, you find yourself awake very early in the morning. Which is surprising since usually Leah almost have to push you out of bed. When you look at the time on your phone, you realize it’s barely 5:00 in the morning. And no matter how hard you try to go back to sleep, you can’t. Your mind flies over the different places in Oslo that you visited with Leah.

And the part that you’ve carefully avoided, afraid of running into Helena. You don’t know if she still lives here, you don’t know what happened to her either. But you could still find the house in which she lives (lived?) very easily. Without giving yourself too much time to think, you end up getting out of bed by taking all the precautions to not wake Leah. You dress quickly and before looking for what drives you to do this, you find yourself in the streets of Oslo in the direction of Helena’s house.

As you expected, you quickly find the way to this place that you hate more than anything. The lights are on upstairs and you take care not to being visible from where you are. With the day beginning to rise, you can observe the garden and see that it is still poorly maintained. The walls are even more decrepit than before and when a silhouette passes in front of the window without curtains you suddenly freeze.

It’s her.

But, unlike the last times you saw her, you didn’t feel the terror that inhabited you in her presence. Which is intriguing and difficult for you to understand. Then, finally, you realize that you don’t care. You can’t say that you don’t feel any negative emotions when you think about her, but you don’t care what she’s become.

On the other hand, thinking about the panic that Leah could feel if she wakes up without seeing you by her side makes you retrace your steps.

Leah is still asleep when you find your hotel room, but she quickly starts moving as soon as you get rid of your shoes and coat. You get back on the bed and put a hand in her hair, only now realizing your body temperature difference.

"Your hands are freezing" Leah complains, shivering, trying to stick against you probably to regain a little warmth.

"I'm sorry" you mumble while laying a kiss on the top of her head.

It only takes a few seconds for Leah to realize that you are no longer wearing your pajamas, stepping back to better observe you. Her eyebrows are frowned when she looks at your clothes and her eyes are uncertain when she rises on yours.

"Where did you go?"

"I went to Helena’s"

You didn’t hesitate a second to tell her the truth, but you flinch when you see Leah's face drops.

"Why? What happened?"

"Nothing. It’s okay Babe"

But Leah doesn’t seem convinced and even seems to have trouble understanding what pushed you to go there. And honestly, you wouldn’t be able to explain why either. Actually, you recognize a little of panic in her eyes and in her voice when she talks again.

"Did you talk to her?"

"No" you answer by shaking your head, taking her hand in yours to play with her fingers. "I didn’t see her either, just out the window. Nothing changed there, it’s still creepy and poorly maintained."

"Why didn’t you ask me to come with you? If something had happened to you, I wouldn’t have even known where to get you Y/N, you’re completely unconscious"

"Leah stop, I’m fine"

Leah looks at you with a skeptical air before suddenly drawing you against her by mumbling things far too quickly and too low for you to understand something. But you let her do it, pressing your face on her chest and letting your hands slide on her arms.

"Never do that again. Never leave without telling me where you're going."

"Promise" you sigh softly, lulled by the beating of her heart and her arms around you.

"No sleeping now" Leah grumble while tickling your ribs.

"Leah" you moan, wriggling on her to avoid her fingers.

"I’m serious Y/N. If anything happened to you…"

You quickly understand that under her grumpy air, there is also a great deal of concern. So you hurry up to look at her. It will be necessary to quickly clarify your ideas to try to make her understand what you have done.

"Nothing will happen to me, Babe. I think I just needed to see this place again to realize where I am now. To realize how far I’ve come since. And to realize how lucky I am, too."

"It has nothing to do with luck. You’ve worked a lot to get where you are" Leah says, finally relaxing a bit.

"I wasn’t just talking about football" you point out with a smirk. "But the beautiful blonde in my bed, too."

Leah laughs while hearing you and you take advantage of her change of mood to deposit several kisses on her face, in the hollow of her neck and about every square centimeter of her skin that you can reach.

********

The match being important, the training camps were rather harsh and severe. You get up early in the morning to have breakfast with the team before going to train until lunch. A short walk through Oslo follows to relax before resuming training for the afternoon. In the late afternoon you have either physical strengthening or other activities such as swimming pool or other things that are supposed to increase your chances of winning.

Needless to say, when you return to your room at night, you are exhausted. Luckily Leah continues to discover Norway with your parents or cousin, or all three, which doesn’t make you feel too guilty for bringing her here without being able to take full care of her. The team is staying in the same hotel, three floors below Leah’s room. You managed to sneak into Leah’s room several times during the stay, regaining the comfort and benefits of her arms.

The massages and baths she offers you are much more pleasant than the care provided by the team caregivers, we will not lie.

The day of the game comes quickly and you learn that you will be part of the eleven players of the beginning of the game. You play against Italy, a team that you don’t know too well but that has shown its qualities many times. You are not extremely confident, but as you have nothing to lose it’s with some form of conviction that you join the field.

The stadium is pretty full and when you listen to the Italian national anthem, you look for Leah in the family area. You can’t help but smile when you see her, even if you quickly realize that she put on a Norway team jersey over her jacket. When she realizes that you are looking at her, she turns around before pointing to the back of the jersey. If you can’t read the name from where you are, you have no problem recognizing the number. And it’s yours.

"If that’s not dedication" mumbles Guro next to you with an amused smile.

You give her a quick look in turn, before greeting the Italian players who parade in front of you. You spotted Mapi a few rows above Leah and your family in the bleachers, all also dressed in a Norwegian jersey.

As you might have guessed, the game is physical and tactfully hard. Italy play in a rather rough way, each time flirting with the limit of the yellow card. So you find yourself quite often on the ground and it starts hitting on your nerves from the middle of the first half. You swear in Norwegian when the referee whistles after another tackle against you, accepting Ingrid’s hand to help you get up.

"Don’t let them get in your head, that’s exactly what they want. Stay focus." Ingrid tells you before joining the players standing close to the goal to try and get the free kick to the bottom of the net.

In Arsenal, it’s Katie who shoots the free kicks, but in the Norway team, it’s you who does it. You have been watching her a lot over the last few months, her kick and the precision she shows have always given you a lot of admiration. Even when you played her in Manchester City. Trying to remember the advices she gave you over time, you exhale before you step out of the ball to hit it.

You have the impression that it flies in slow motion, before finding the head of Vilde Bøe Risa and finishing at the bottom of the nets. The shouts of the crowd suddenly resound and you quickly join the rest of your teammates to celebrate the goal. You smile when you feel a few of them tapping on the head to congratulate yourself, returning to your place to allow the match to resume. When you look towards Leah, you can only smile when she raises her thumb in your direction.

It’s only with a small advantage on the counter that you find the changing rooms, but as your coach says, it’s better than nothing. You take advantage of the warmth of the changing rooms to warm up a little, accompanied by a hot tea. When you find the ground fifteen minutes later, the cold is still present but it seems to you less unpleasant.

Italy manages to equalize at the sixtieth minute, but thanks to a good pass from Ingrid you manage to allow Norway to regain the advantage about ten minutes later. The tension is palpable as the minutes pass the contacts become even more brutal than before.

And what was to happen happened.

It’s in the eighty-eighth minutes that you are again launched towards the goal.

You know that if you manage to score, it will definitely qualify your team. So you try to ignore your painful muscles and the different bruises that will definitely mark your body in a few hours to move away at full speed towards the opposing goalkeeper.

You only have one opponent to eliminate to get there, but she seems determined not to let you pass. The tackle you undergo is far from clean, your leg gripped in pincers between her two, emiting a sinister crack when you fall back on the ground.

The pain is immediate and so intense that you cannot hold back a real cry of pain. With your face leaning against the grass, you try to grab your leg to try to reduce the pain but you release it quickly when you understand your mistake. You’re in such pain that you can’t figure out exactly where you’re hurt.

Above you, an argument quickly broke out between several of your teammates and the player responsible for the tackle. The medical team is quickly at your side and you can’t help but push their hands when they start examining your leg.

"Don’t touch me" you beg by turning on your back.

Mixed up in the argument, Ingrid ends up shifting her attention to you by hearing the talking you have with the doctors. When she kneels beside you, one of the doctors quickly asks her to hold your hands to let them work. Ingrid obeys, letting you grab her hands as hard as you can.

Your best friend looks up at the family stands in front of you. She can therefore see that Leah has left her seat and moved as close to the field as possible, seeking to see as best as possible what is happening. Her face is twisted by worry, but what surprises Ingrid above all is to see that Mapi joined her and put a hand probably supposed to be comforting on Leah’s shoulder.

At their side, your parents and your cousin don’t seem to be particularly comfortable either.

Her eyes then rest on you when you are given morphine, before transferring to a stretcher. You leave the field under applause, but the pain and fear of the reality of your injury don’t allow you to appreciate them. Stretcher movements give you intense pain and you have to bite your hands so you don’t scream again. It’s a real relief when morphine finally takes effect some minutes after.

On the field, the end of the game is quickly whistled after the incident. When Ingrid joins her family and yours, she hugs Mapi while being having to answer hundred questions from your parents.

"Is it her ACL?" is the only question Leah asks.

"I don’t know" sighs Ingrid shaking her head, always in Mapi's arms. "She was... She wasn't able to say where exactly her pain was. I can try to get you into the locker room and infirmary if she hasn’t already left for the hospital. But maybe not everyone."

"Go ahead, Leah" your mother replies almost immediately, tapping on the blonde’s shoulder.

Leah hesitates for a split second, not wanting to interfere with the needs and desires of her in-laws. But one look at your father is enough to convince her and she skillfully jumps over the fence.

Ingrid trains her more or less discreetly towards the tunnel to reach the inside of the stadium, exchanging only a few words with your national coach in Norwegian. Obviously Leah doesn't understand a word of it, she only has in mind to be able to find you and know what you have.

Only a few dozen minutes have passed since the shock and your injury, but it seems to you that it's rather long hours. Despite the morphine, you continue to feel spikes of pain. You have never felt such intense pain and you find yourself having to focus on the painting of the ceiling to not lose consciousness.

After three knocks against the door, it opens slowly, letting your best friend and girlfriend pass.

"Leah" you manage to croak and she rushes towards you.

One of her hand squeezes your hand and the other gently caresses your hair while her eyes search for yours.

"What did they say?" Leah asks

"Nothing" you admit pitifully "They were waiting for morphine to take effect, it was hurting to much until now"

Speaking of which, you see two doctors come back inside the room and Ingrid slips away without having laid a kiss on your forehead. And after getting Leah’s promise to keep her informed.

Some new swearing in Norwegian escapes from your lips when they start auscultating you, Leah mentally promises herself to ask you about it in a few days. But right now she’s too busy sympathizing with your pain and looking for a way to turn you away from what’s happening.

"Did we win at least?"

"Yeah. 2-1. You were amazing by the way, we’re gonna have to fight to keep you at Arsenal if you keep playing that well."

You roll your eyes but you are quickly brought to the heart of the matter by the main doctor. He speaks Norwegian, so you have to translate it to Leah.

"What did he say?"

"He thinks it’s a fracture. They’ll transfer me to the hospital."

"At least it’s not your ACL" Leah sighs of relief.

You grimace before addressing the doctor again, asking if it's possible that someone could bring the things you left in the locker room.

Ingrid brings them to you, already changed and showered when she appears. Your parents, your cousin and Mapi follow her. All these people are not allowed to follow you to the hospital, but you reassure them as much as possible. You promise once again to keep them informed and you kiss them before going to the ambulance. Quickly realizing that it's impossible to put your foot on the ground or even hop while holding on to Leah, you are pushed on a bed to the vehicle.

Arriving at the hospital, you enjoy being able to wash yourself, with the precious help of Leah. You sigh with despair when you have to put on one of these hospital gowns, but this gives you the right to have access to a room and it's always more pleasant than the ambient noise of the reception of the emergency.

You leave Leah for a few moments to go for the scanner and she's eating the vanilla pudding of your meal tray when you come back.

"You hate vanilla" she exclaims for an excuse with an innocent face when you look at her with an half amused-half severe smile.

It also turns out that this is the only food that the blonde likes on what is offered on this set. You eat without much conviction under the insistence of Leah, the blonde certifying that she promised your mother to take care of you and that it begins by ensuring that you eat properly.

You both doze off when the doctors come back with your test results, you on your bed and Leah in a chair next to you. The blonde stubbornly refused to lie next to you despite your insistence, being too afraid to hurt you.

Leah’s frustration is at its height when you are given information in your native language, not understanding any of the words spoken. There is no similarity between these two languages and she wonders how you learned to speak English so well under these conditions.

"So?" she asks barely a second after the doctor has finished talking.

"Tibial tray fracture" you mumble

"Do you need surgery?"

You shake your head negatively, a little stunned by all this. You are interrupted by the doctor who tells you a few more words before leaving the room, shaking your hand then Leah's.

********

The night at the hospital was complicated for you, apart from the pain that kept you awake for many hours, you had to be taken away so that they put a cast that you will have to keep for a few weeks, before changing it for a splint. The only time you got your smile back was when you could choose the color of your blast.

"Red" you answered without hesitation.

"Red?" Leah asked when she saw the nurses preparing the mixture.

"If I have to stay stuck in the bleachers for a few weeks, I might as well match the colors of Arsenal"

You shrugged, trying to hide your sadness from this idea. Leah went through a lot more difficult than that and you don’t want to impose your moods on her. But she seems to have perfected her ability to read your thoughts since she immediately raised your face gently for you to look at her.

"Oh no, not that. You have the right to be sad, you have the right to be angry and you have the right to blame the whole world. But you don’t have the right to shut yourself up and not talk about how you feel. You don’t have to tell me if you’d rather confide to Less or someone else, but don’t shut yourself. Please."

Throat knotted, you couldn’t say anything, so you just nodded. That was enough for Leah who laid a tender kiss on your cheek.

"And you can count on me to be there every step of the way"

"I know" you smiled softly

With you and Leah not leaving until two days later, you mostly stayed in your hotel room after leaving the hospital. You have been busy for a long time with the various calls and messages you have received from many of your relatives. Instead of calling you once a week, your mother called you every day. And of course you got calls from Ingrid, Leila, Laia, Alessia (who in the meantime changed her name in your phone by Sis ✨), Katie and finally almost all of Arsenal.

"Nice free kick" told you Katie when she called you via FaceTime "I will have competition to take it at Arsenal, it’s good."

When you flew back to London and you’ve never been happier living in an elevator building. All that remains is to hope that it doesn’t break down for the next six weeks, when you can apparently start walking again without having the leg immobilized.

Leah will keep her promise to not to leave you alone for the slightest minute as she will establish a whole program with the club’s doctors so that your rehabilitation and the strengthening exercises you have to do will be planned at exactly the same times as the workouts of the others. When you’re not at Arsenal facilities, you are at home with her.

And on game days, you watch them play. The next match is against Aston Villa and you regret a little not participating in the game alongside Leah. Being able to beat the team in which your two exes evolve is a little too interesting idea for you, but it will wait next time. Meanwhile, you just follow Leah with your eyes, carefully studying Jordan’s behavior towards her.

Arsenal wins hands down and even if you are disappointed not to play with your team, you are very proud of your teammates. At the end of the match, you follow Lia who was replaced towards the end of the match on the field with your crutches, struggling a little because of the slippery ground. But you quickly reach the height of Alessia that you take in your arms to congratulate her on the goal she scored.

You’re having a hard time finding Leah in the crowd of players and you can’t help but get a little nervous about Jordan getting her before you. It’s however Katie who turns you away from this idea when she suddenly arrives behind you to lift you and begin to carry you like a bride.

"Let go of me, you maniac" you laugh when you see her starting a lap without letting you go.

"Why? Show everyone your cast!"

During one of the lunch breaks, her and Leah worked hard to reproduce the Arsenal logo on your cast and they are both very proud of their work. Your cast also has the names of all your teammates, a cat drawning made by Viv supposed to represent Raven, flowers made by Alessia and an Australian flag made by Kyra.

You roll your eyes, your arms around Katie's neck to stabilize you.

"Uh, the other way please" you mumble realizing that Lia is now exchanging a few words with Alina, right in the direction that Katie is going.

"Oops."

The Irish changes direction, only so that you find yourself facing Leah who looks at you both with fun.

"Can you give me back my girlfriend now please?"

"Dunno. I like her" Katie tease Leah as she tighten you up against her.

"I’m here too, by the way"

You see Caitlin waving her arm with a big smile a few meters from you, making the three of you laugh. When Katie finally puts you down, Leah beckons you to climb on her back, making you frown.

"People are gonna think this is weird, no?"

"Leah was in the stands of your last game with a jersey named after you. What would be weird is that they haven’t figured it out yet" Manu, who joined you, says.

"She’s right" Leah shrugged. "And at worst, we don’t care?"

Since the blonde doesn’t seem to see the slightest inconvenience, you don’t make yourself pray any longer. Leaning on her shoulders, you jump on her back, Leah passing her arms under your thighs so she can carry you properly. You greet the crowd from time to time when you hear your name, talking about everything and nothing with Leah and your teammates.

"So, we don't care right?" You ask Leah after a few minutes.

"Yes, why?"

You’re not answering her question. Instead, you lean over her and kiss her cheek, then the corner of her lips when she turns her head towards you. She grins and you grin back at her.

"Hard launch" Caitlin sings, her arm around Katie's waist.

"Yeah, you're the one to talk" Leah laughs while looking at them.

You didn’t see Jordan after the game and when you ask Alessia a little after, she will tell you that she actually went back to the locker room almost right after the whistle. It probably means to you that seeing you with Leah is difficult for her, probably confirming your theory. But the photos you see on social media a little later, while you are peacefully lying in Leah’s arms in your bed, could alone confirm that the blonde has indeed moved on.

The way she looks at you on those pictures gives you butterflies in your stomach and a wave of affection for her. Leah will only have two seconds to understand what happens to her when you drop your phone on the mattress to go up for her lips and kiss her passionately. She’s yours.

[yuurei20]

Malleus Facts Part 4: Lilia (pt1)

We are still learning about what Malleus’ childhood was like, but we know Lilia has been with him since he was born (specifically, "since he was brushing eggshell off of his head").

Lilia says, “saying I’ve known him since he was a child doesn’t quite encapsulate the duration of our acquaintance.”

Lilia says he remembers the days when Malleus would weep when he couldn’t dress himself, and Malleus says that Lilia would sing him a song from the “King’s Road” musical, along with bedtime stories.

We get a detailed story from Malleus about an incident with Lilia during Book 7: Malleus says that, back when he’d first started walking on two legs, he became upset when his grandmother wasn’t able to have dinner with him.

Malleus had frozen nearly the entire castle (and the people in it) when Lilia appeared and created shaved ice, which he then distributed to the staff and had them start eating together.

This made Malleus jealous, and as he calmed down realized what he’d done. (Eating meals alone seems to be a particular point of loneliness for Malleus.)

Malleus said that he’d feared a harsh rebuke from Lilia for being overcome by his emotions (“He can be EXTREMELY frightening when he’s truly angry”) but instead Lilia crushed the ice that Malleus had become surrounded by and prepared him some shaved ice as well.

Lilia took him by the hand, led him to a seat and encouraged him to have some, which Malleus says was “a bit anticlimactic” after the wrath he’d imagined. Malleus says he found it “rather pleasant eating with that many people around the table. Normally I’d either sit there alone or just with Grandmother.”

Lilia then cautioned him about not using his power recklessly, as he nearly lost the people seated at the table with him.

Other instances we hear about from pre-NRC Malleus and Lilia include Lilia cutting Malleus’ hair, teaching him how to play stringed instruments, having him memorize a book about survival and providing Malleus with cotton candy that was larger than himself.

Malleus mentions an unnamed mentor that would scold him for driving his magic tutors away as a child, who might also have been Lilia.

Despite how often Lilia was around during Malleus’ childhood, it is possible that they did not live together: In his frozen-castle story Malleus says that Lilia “came to the castle."

Sebek mentions Malleus “visiting” Lilia, and Silver says that such visits required Malleus to sneak away, as he never left the castle "without a whole cadre of guards.” Malleus says he barely left the castle at all.

[yallemagne]

Dracula like, this kid's been in a coach of terror all day and I kept driving him into circles and he kept drifting off and he was scared out if his mind and he waited an hour outside the door in the cold. I'll have chicken with sides prepared next to the hearth and he'll be putty in my hands.

And the worst part is that he's right.

Jonathan graciously accepts the Count's hospitality. It is reassuring to him, and he feels his worries melt away as he slowly winds down from the hectic journey he just weathered.

The light and warmth and the Count's courteous welcome seemed to have dissipated all my doubts and fears.

But... if there is any reassurance to derive from this... putty is only so easily moldable when you play with warm hands.

...he moved impulsively forward, and holding out his hand grasped mine with a strength which made me wince, an effect which was not lessened by the fact that it seemed as cold as ice—more like the hand of a dead than a living man.

Jonathan is willing to power through his weariness, but he's not blind to the fact there is something very wrong with the Count. He's just unwilling to broach the subject, he hopes he shall not have to, that he'll get his work done and go home to Mina, making his stressful business trip seem like nothing more than a bizarre dream. In the meantime, he will take comfort in the Count's odd geniality.

But JESUS I SHOULD REALLY TALK ABOUT THE COUNT! SORRY!

Dracula relishes in this. The shame of being a boyar with no staff or subjects and having to do all the work himself is outweighed by the thrill of pulling the wool over an innocent lamb's eyes and leading him to slaughter. Even as Jonathan notices all the little things wrong (we were simply going over and over the same ground again–– for a moment I doubted if it were not the same person to whom I was speaking––his breath was rank––), he cannot voice any of his concerns, and Dracula takes full advantage of this. From the very start, he is gloating:

"Ah, sir, you dwellers in the city cannot enter into the feelings of the hunter." 

This is the Count's hunt.

I decided to wait till today to answer because May 7 provides more of Dracula's perspective. He's been planning this trip to England for a while, as evidenced by his numerous books and just how perfectly he speaks English. But he's unsatisfied with his speech. He knows it makes him unfamiliar, a stranger. When he travels to London, he wants to blend in as one of the sheep, such is his excuse for requiring his solicitor to come to him. He intends to use Jonathan as a study for what to expect of the faraway land he longs to conquer. And, in the meantime, he shall also teach Jonathan the ways of his land.

When I go there I shall be all alone, and my friend Harker Jonathan—nay, pardon me, I fall into my country's habit of putting your patronymic first—my friend Jonathan Harker will not be by my side to correct and aid me.

This "mistake" appears very intentional. By addressing Jonathan according to his country's rules, he, however passively, asserts his superiority over him. Think when someone gets your name wrong on purpose, it's a tactic used to deny you ownership of yourself. I'm not prescribing this intent to anyone who makes a mistake like this, but Dracula speaks in such a measured way that I doubt he truly slipped up. It's so small of an inconvenience in this case that Jonathan voices no thoughts on the matter. But Dracula is priming him for his stay in Castle Dracula. As Jonathan teaches him the way of the Englishman, Dracula shall teach him the way of the Transylvanian peasant. Quite literally when he speaks of the blue flames.

"Why, even the peasant that you tell me of who marked the place of the flame would not know where to look in daylight even for his own work. Even you would not, I dare be sworn, be able to find these places again?" "There you are right," I said. "I know no more than the dead where even to look for them."

Such an obvious HINT! It's another "for the dead travel fast". Jonathan acknowledges "only the dead would know where to look", and Dracula just goes "...anyway--"

Dracula does not hesitate to drop hints about his nature. Oh, he cannot live in a new house? He would die in a new house? He travels to England in search of newer, broader horizons, but he does not wish to stand out. He intends to insert himself into the history of London, becoming one of England's many ghosts, once more a master but of a different people who don't know the danger he poses. Right now, Jonathan can find nothing wrong with this–

I felt that it was getting very late indeed, but I did not say anything, for I felt under obligation to meet my host's wishes in every way.

–and again, he is bound by the Count's good graces. Dread creeps in his mind and he thinks of death as morning sneaks up on him.

They say that people who are near death die generally at the change to the dawn or at the turn of the tide; any one who has when tired, and tied as it were to his post, experienced this change in the atmosphere can well believe it.

Dracula keeps him awake through sunset and sunrise, forcing him to experience the change in atmosphere and foreshadowing his plans for him. He's playing with his food in a way Jonathan doesn't consciously but subconsciously recognizes.