#in our final conversation on how to make us work i only asked 2 things: follow through on your promises and PLEASE TOUCH ME

[shittygothbitch]

Vent in the tags

[freak-accident419]

Good Looking Boy

Billy (Burn 2019) x GN!Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Summary: You and Billy make your endeavor to escape. Then you’re faced with Melinda. But what will even happen after all of this insanity?

Word Count: 3.0k

Content: gender neutral reader, fluff, guns, attempted suicide(?), smoking, mentions of death

(A/n: thank you for all the support, thank you all so much for reading!!)

-

“You got it yet?” Billy asks.

“Yeah, yeah, hold on, almost there,” you reply hastily.

After a while, you two decided to find different ways to escape. After your conversations and laughter would die down, you’d realize the dire situation you two were in, getting back on track as you figured Melinda could come in any second now and cause more destruction.

You two came up with the idea of releasing your leg first, which was duct taped to the chair leg, because it was probably the easiest restraint to get out of. Your position was complicated because you were laying on the floor on your side, still stuck to the chair. You shimmied your leg, gradually removing its attachment from your pants, rolling the duct tape into a thin ring that you can slide out from the chair leg.

That was the plan, at least. You weren’t successful yet.

Until you began to see the tape begin to roll in on itself, becoming thinner and more flexible around your leg, unsticking from your pants. “Oh shit!” You gasp in awe, continuing to jerk your leg. “Shit, shit, shit!”

“What? Is it working?” Billy asked, trying to look behind him, but only able to see the back legs of your chair.

“Almost, it—” Your eyes widen as you keeping moving your leg, then tried to scoop the ring of duct tape out of the chair leg, stretching it until…

“Fuck! Yes!” You exclaim in delight, slightly panting from how much energy it took. “Yes, yes, yes!”

“You got it out?” He inquired urgently.

Your one leg was entirely free. Sure, it was a small victory, but it was a crucial step in getting out of here alive. “Yeah,” you replied, smiling. “Yeah, I-I did, now what?”

”Okay! Good! Alright. Good job, Y/n,” he says supportively. “Umm… Shit, now what?” He mumbled to himself in frustration.

Your other leg was still duct taped to the chair, but it was against the floor due to your position. There seemed to be no way to do the same thing you had previously done to get your first leg out.

“Um… Fuck…” you muttered.

“Maybe… Maybe we could try to break out of the zip ties. If a lot of force is used, you could potentially break it,” he suggested.

“Wouldn’t that really, like, damage our wrists or something?” You asked anxiously.

“At this point, it doesn’t fucking matter, yeah? As long as we get out of this goddamn chair,” he replied. “We should push our hands out in the opposite direction, one forceful movement by one. At the same time. And just keep repeating it until it hopefully breaks, or something.”

“Okay… Alright…” You agree.

“At the count of three…” he began, “One, two, three—”

You two jolted your wrists in the direction opposite from each other. Nothing happened. At least, not yet.

“Okay,” you breathe. “One, two, three—”

You do the same, quick motion again, using as much force as you could. Nothing yet, but you could almost feel that it was close to breaking.

“Come on, come on,” he muttered to himself. “Alright. One, two, three.”

Another powerful yank, but still nothing.

“Okay, okay, we can do this,” you breathe. “We can do this. One, two, three—”

A snapping noise sounds as the white zip ties break, letting your wrists separate from Billy’s as you two gasp happily in relief.

“Yes! Fuck!”

The entire time, you and Billy were continuing to break out of each restraint. Billy let his single leg loose, and you two attempted to drag yourselves closer to the desk. Finally, you stretched your leg and used your shoe to drag the scissors off the desk, pushing it on the floor to your hands. It was finally in range and you grabbed it, first cutting the tape that withheld your upper arms and torsos, giving you enough reach to cut the other zip tie.

After a few quick moments, once you two felt free of all the restraints, you immediately scampered out from the chair on the floor in opposite directions, picking yourself up until you stood, completely and wholeheartedly free.

You two immediately turned around, looking down at the two chairs on the floor, then finally looking up at each other.

Billy was very attractive.

He was practically the epitome of handsome. Like, he wasn’t the most attractive guy in the entire history of them, but he was strikingly cute. The first thing you noticed was the burn on the side of his face, in which you then remembered he told you that it was Melinda’s doing. He wore a fleece jean jacket and light blue skinny jeans, and a small gold earring. And while you were falling for him as you had conversed, you felt like you were falling even deeper as you saw his soft brown eyes.

There was a bit of silence between you two as you just looked at each other. You had been stuck together for almost an hour, but you had already gained a mutual admiration for each other.

Billy didn’t expect you to be this attractive. Actually, he didn’t really expect anything, and neither did you. But he truly and indefinitely believed that you were beautiful. Probably the sweetest thing he’s ever seen.

He broke the silence by clearing his throat, walking over to you. He wasn’t very tall, but that sort of just added to his charm. He took out his hand. “Thought we should’ve had a proper introduction. I’m Billy.” You could feel his mannerisms be a bit rushed because you were still in the same building of a psychopath.

“I’m Y/n,” you shake his hand quickly.

“Nice shirt.”

“Nice jacket.”

Billy turns around, then looks at the lockers with intrigue. He slowly makes his way towards it, looking at each of the small vaults. As you watched this, your eyes trailed downward, seeing a long, dark green bag on the floor by the wall. Your attention was pulled away from it, however, as he brought his hand inside of one locker, seemingly grabbing something from inside it.

You felt your heart race as you saw the revolver in his hands. It was like he was able to sense your fear, because he tucked it into his pants immediately and walked towards you unthreateningly. “Hey. Don’t worry about it. I’m not gonna hurt you,” he claims. You nodded softly. You trusted him. Even though you only knew each other for such a short period of time, you two had told each other so much about yourselves. It was a weird shared trauma bond, that made you wish you met on different circumstances.

“How are your wrists?” He asks gently.

You present them to him. “They’re okay,” you answered. He took your hands into his, observing the faint bruise along the wrist that you broke out the zip tie with. His fingertips were soft on your skin, the brief contact making your face heat up, almost. You then move your hands under his to see the small indents on his wrists caused by the zip ties, rubbing over it softly with your thumb. You two look up at each other and chuckle softly, looking back down and coyly smiling to yourselves.

“We should—we should go,” you say after a while.

“Right. Yeah,” Billy says, letting go of each other’s hands then cautiously looking at the desolate, white door that would lead into the store. Before you could take another step towards it, it slowly opened by itself.

And Melinda her-fucking-self was behind it.

She had a look of shock on her face, as she didn’t expect to come back to her captives being free. Immediately, Billy took out his gun, pointing it at her, making her involuntary raise her hands up in surrender, placing his other arm in front of you, letting you stay behind him.

There was fear in Melinda’s watery eyes. She let out small sniffles as she looked at the barrel of the gun, then at you and Billy.

“I-I didn’t mean for all of this to happen,” she stammered, voice cracking and tears gradually falling down. “You… You can take the money and go, it’s-it’s all there.”

You wondered what was wrong with her. What exactly drove her to do all this stuff. How she never called the cops on Billy and instead tie him up. How she tied you up because you witnessed it.

“This didn’t have to be complicated, Melinda,” Billy says sternly, a look of hatred and disgust towards her.

“I-I know,” she whispered.

“And… and you brought them into this for no reason too! They were fucking innocent, and you just had to bring them into this! I mean, I get that you would tie me up, I robbed you, but Y/n? Innocent.” He asserted. “You made me kill somebody, Melinda. I am not a killer, but you… you made me kill Sheila. You fucking made me kill somebody.”

“No, I- I didn’t mean for this to happen. Please. You can just go. I’m sorry. Please, I’m sorry. The money is on the floor. Behind the counter. Just leave me alone, please,” she pleaded, continuing to cry. She then looked at you. “I’m sorry-I’m sorry I tied you up too, I was scared that you’d get the police.”

You sighed heavily and looked at Billy, relying on him for direction. But she continued on, making you look back at her again.

“I—I’m going to burn this whole place down.” She claimed. “I’ve covered the entire store in gasoline, just leave while you still can, p-please.”

“Why the fuck should I believe anything you say?” There was hostility in his voice. “Walk.” He ordered, waving the gun around, gesturing for her to walk back into the store.

Billy walks towards her as she goes backwards, with you following him. The neon blue lights of the store caressed your skin as you passed the door, completely leaving the employees only back room and being met with short aisles, composed of shelves filled with candy and chips.

“The money, it’s back there,” she pointed as you were now all in the center of the store. He looked at her with suspicion, slowly making his way to the front counter. You followed behind him, leaving Melinda with her hands up as Billy seemed to have found it, grabbing a black backpack and swinging it over his shoulders. Then, you two turned around to see Melinda, except…

She looked at you two with bloodshot, sad eyes, and an ignited lighter in her right hand. Shit. You looked down, and it appears she wasn’t lying, because gasoline coated the bottom of your shoes. “Okay, good, you can… you can have the money, just… just leave me now, please,” she begged.

“Wait. Let’s just… We can get you help, okay?” You offered, feeling a bit of sympathy for her. You knew she wasn’t exactly right in the head.

“Y/n, no,” Billy warned, looking at you sternly. “I honestly love how you continue to prove to me how much of a good heart you have, but Melinda? She is fucking crazy.”

“That’s why we should, I don’t know, get the cops, get her to a hospital—“

“Y/n. You don’t know what she’s done. Plus, we cannot get the cops involved. What are we gonna tell them, huh? What, are we gonna mention the fact that I was trying to rob the place? That it was my gun that fucking killed Sheila?” He stammered, which ultimately saddened you. “This woman is beyond redemption, okay?”

“So what? What, are we just going to watch her set herself on fire? Yeah? You’re really going to be okay with that?”

“Y/n, please. I don’t want to argue with you. It’s us or her. Do you see the goddamn lighter in her hand? She’s going to drop it any second and she is not going to wait for us, so we have to go. Okay?” He urged, grabbing onto your shoulder and leading you two to the backdoor, still pointing his gun at Sheila.

“Billy, wait,” you plead. “What if she’s just bluffing?”

“And risk catching on fucking fire, huh? We have no fucking time, let’s go!” He exclaimed, leading you out to the backdoor, your eyes meeting with Melinda before you were abruptly shoved outside.

It was freezing. Every exhale you took was visible in the cold air.

Billy closed the back door, moving the dumpster to block the exit. You two stood outside, a few feet away from the building, waiting for it to be set in flames. But it wasn’t. So either Melinda was truthfully bluffing or changed her mind. But you felt grateful, because you would’ve felt guilty if she hadn’t.

You took out a pack of cigarettes from your pocket, grabbing one from it, placing it between your lips and taking out a lighter from your other pocket. As you first exhale, you watch the back of the building. Nothing going on at all.

You weren’t sure what would happen after this. If Melinda would go to the police. If Billy would get caught and/or pay back his debt with the bikers. And what would you do?

You turn your head to look at Billy.

“May I…?” He trailed off, gesturing to the cigarette in between your fingers.

You chuckle under your breath then handed him it, watching him place it in his mouth and taking a drag. It was kind of silent. And it was still cold.

“Are you gonna go pay off your debt now?” You ask him softly.

You watched the smoke escape his lips as he nods. “Yeah. Then I’ll just… get the hell out of this fucking place…”

There was another moment of silence. An uncomfortable, uncertain silence.

“Will I… Will I ever see you again?” You ask hesitantly as he hands you back your cigarette.

He gives a low chuckle, offering you a gentle smile. “You’d really want to see me again?”

You hummed softly. “I feel like it’d be nice…” You say quietly. “Maybe when I’ll be getting gas again, you’re there to rob the store.”

He scoffed. “Y/n—“

“I’m messing with you,” you let out a small laugh. He smiles at you. You felt comfortable now. And you shouldn’t have been, because it was fucking freezing, but as cliché as it was, he was warming your heart.

He looked into your eyes deeply, which drove you to observe his soft face. You couldn’t exactly describe what his facial expression was or meant at this moment—until he expressed it with his words:

“Come with me, Y/n. Please.”

It was urgency. It was a look of urgency and desperation.

“I’ll pay off the biker assholes and then—then I’ll pick you up and we can leave together. Come on. How does that sound?”

“Billy, I—“ You were shocked. You didn’t want to throw your whole life out in this way. You were very fond of Billy, you could swear it, but this was too much. “I can’t, I… It’s just too… too crazy.”

“I-I understand. Completely. But fuck, I… I don’t want to lose you…”

You bit the inside of your cheek. You felt bad. You didn’t want to lose him either. Goddamnit, why did he have to be a damn fugitive?

“Somebody’s gonna have to work cashier number five for Macy’s, Billy,” you joke softly. You put out the cigarette on the snow and grabbed his hand. It was comfortable in yours, fingers fidgeting with each other, rubbing the skin tenderly. You rubbed your thumb over the gold ring that embraced his index finger, in which the metal was warm against your skin. “If we were in… another circumstance, maybe I would. But… I can’t just throw my life away like this. While you’d be starting anew, I’d be discarding everything I’ve ever known. I can’t sacrifice that for you.”

He nodded, staring at his hand in yours. He wouldn’t have thought you would have agreed anyway. He just had so much hope. Like his goddamn Marlboro, he wanted more of you. “Right… Okay, I understand,” he reckons dejectedly.

“I’m sorry,” you say warmly as you watch his thumb move across the back of your hand. You look back up at him.

“It’s okay,” he replies gently. “I hope I’ll see you again, Y/n.”

“Me too,” you add.

“Goodbye, Y/n. Thanks for… for getting us out of that shit hole. And… being a good person.”

Now it was your turn to scoff. “Give yourself some credit, dude. We escaped together. It was a team effort. And also… I think you’re genuinely a good person too. You were just… faced with unlucky predicaments.”

He grins appreciatively, letting out a small chuckle. He looked down at your hands that were in his, then back at you. “Bye, Y/n.”

���Bye, Billy,” you felt the warmth of his hands leave yours, making his way back to the front of the gas station to get to his car, leaving you there to stand alone in the cold…

*** A Few Weeks Later ***

If you had to do a rundown of everything that had happened ever since, then it would be simple—you got away with all of it. Melinda must have had permanently discarded all of the camera footage before police could get it. But as seen in the news, she was arrested for accessory to murder, then hospitalized from signs of mental illness. It seemed that she didn’t reveal much and ended up lying, because you never saw Billy’s face or information on any wanted posters.

Now you were at your job, working as a cashier, handing a woman her receipt after she paid for her items. She then left with her bags after chirping an expression of gratitude. Your head remains downward, sort of dispirited and not in the mood today. “Welcome, did you find everything alright?” You enunciate in monotone, yet with a slight endeavored cheerful tone, as you saw the figure of the new customer in your peripheral vision. You grabbed the single item that the customer placed on the counter and scanned it sluggishly.

However, you finally paid attention to your surroundings and realized what the purchase was: a Kentucky Wildcats cap. You let a sharp inhale, as the sports team only reminded you of…

You look up to see the customer standing in front of you. Your eyes widen as your breathing stopped.

You really couldn’t believe your eyes.

There was a smirk on his face as you felt a blissful smile begin to tug on your lips.

“‘Go Wildcats,’ am I right?” Billy recites.

[steveharringtonat3am]

Free use with Steve

kinktober masterlist!!

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 1.2k

warnings: roomate!steve, free use agreement (fully consensual), an allusion to sex, hair pulling, degradation, a little bit of bondage, penetrative sex, edging

a/n: shoutout to the loml @ddejavvu for helping me out with some characterization!! dedicating this one to her as 1/2 of her birthday present!! <3

When I had first seen Steve’s ad for a roommate, I hadn’t paid any mind to the lack of a rent price in the ad. I figured he would let me know if he actually wanted me to move in. So after he showed me around and we talked for a bit about all the major stuff, I asked about it. And he gave the most intriguing answer I’ve ever heard.

“Well, I’m gonna offer you two options. You could pay half of the rent, so about $900 a month or…you could-could pay nothing.” This option seems to make him nervous, as he shifts slightly in his seat.

“Pay nothing?”

“See, that comes with a catch. If you choose to pay nothing then I would cover you and…you would have to return the favour.” A hint of red colours his cheeks. While I admit it suits him, it gives me a hint as to where this conversation is going.

“And how would I do that?”

“By being a-available at all times.” He smiles sheepishly and fiddles with his hoodie strings

“Available for…what exactly?”

“Sex.” When he says it I think I’ve misheard him. But…he couldn’t have said anything else. He takes my staring as a cue to explain further.

“Well…that sounds bad. You don’t have to have sex with me, especially not right away. And you’re perfectly welcome to pay your half of the rent and completely forget about this. But I like you. And my job is…pretty stressful. So if you would be okay with me relieving that stress with you, I’d be happy to cover the full rent.” He smiles softly and I take a second to process all this. I mean, I did think he was really cute. And definitely my type.

Also, I didn’t have many other options for an apartment. This place was in a good neighbourhood, I had my own bathroom, a nice kitchen, and plenty of natural light. I would be crazy to give that up. And I would be even crazier to give up living rent-free in exchange for having occasional sex with my very hot roommate.

“You know what? Sure. You’ve got a deal, Harrington. Just don’t be a perv.” His laugh is boyish, grinning as he sips his water.

“You’ve got my word.”

So, I moved in a week later. Frankly, it was a great deal. Steve was incredibly sweet and we ended up spending a lot of time together. Which of course, had its perks.

“Holy shit,” I whisper into the hot room, as Steve collapses next to me, panting.

“Holy shit is right. I figured it would take at least another month before we hooked up.” He smiles at me and I can’t help but return it.

“I really thought the only times we would do anything would be whenever you wanna take your stress out on me,” I say as he tugs me close, pressing a soft kiss to the top of my head.

“Well, I had to give you a little preview of what you’re signing up for. Would hate to condemn you to mediocre sex.” He chuckles and I smile up at him.

“I don’t think anything about you is mediocre, Steve Harrington.”

After that, he really took advantage of our agreement. He started off slow, wandering hands when I was doing the dishes, gently groping me if I was near, a lewd comment every once in a while. Honestly, I liked it. It made me feel so wanted. I found myself craving every glance, comment, and touch.

When he finally upped the ante, bending me over the counter one night after dinner to fuck me with almost no warning, it was practically a dream come true.

And boy did Steve know it.

“Fucking stupid motherfuckers.” I hear Steve cursing under his breath as he slams the front door behind him. I pause my movie, turning to look at him. He’s toeing his shoes off, furiously tugging at his tie. I know how much he hated the thing. It represented everything he hated while working at his dad’s firm.

“Bad day?” I question, finally gaining his attention. The second his eyes focus on me, they darken.

“Mhm. Very…stressful.” He crosses the room quickly. His hand gently pushes my hair away from my face before gripping it tightly. Steve knows to grab at the base of the hairs, so it doesn’t hurt as much but I still wince.

“I-I can help with that?” I peer up at him and he breaks for a second, smiling fondly.

“You’re such a good girl…turn around?” He grips the fabric of his tie in his hands, making me grin and turn. The second I’m situated, he smacks me with it. It barely stings, but the surprise makes me yelp.

“Be quiet. Don’t wanna hear you.” He grips my wrists in one hand, wrapping his tie around them. This was not a new thing, so I don’t squirm. Steve enjoyed having my hands bound while he used me.

I try not to move as he tugs my pyjama pants down just enough to expose my ass. Luckily for him, it was laundry night so I had forgone panties.

“Such a slut.” He mumbles, ever a fan of degradation. His hand runs over the fat of my ass, squeezing the flesh appreciatively. He pulls away to undo his pants, the metal of his belt buckle clicking as he drops the leather to the floor. A small part of me is disappointed. I’d been hoping he’d spank me at least a few times. It always hurt so well.

I feel the head of his cock line up with my entrance and I bite my lip hard to keep from moaning.

“Fucking hell…” He curses as he starts pushing in. He goes slower than normal, maybe trying to make this last extra long. Steve was always a big fan of spending hours bringing both of us to the edge, just to stop so that we could do it all over again.

“Please…” I whisper before I can think. He stops and I tense, ready for him to spank me hard.

“I told you to be fucking quiet.” Before I can apologize, he slams into me. I gasp, barely able to catch my breath as he starts pounding into me.

“S-such a stupid toy.” He moans softly, nails digging into me. Moans continue to slip out of me as the head of his cock slams into that spot that makes me go crazy. He doesn’t bother reprimanding though, focusing on chasing his release.

“This pussy always feels so fucking good.” He groans. I can feel my orgasm building, the coil tightening with every deep thrust. I know Steve is on the edge, so I have to cum before he does. No way does he spend extra time on me now that I made noise.

“Shit!” He curses and I feel him cum. As his thrusts slow, my orgasm ebbs away. I whine weakly but he just chuckles and pulls out slowly. Cum slowly leaks out of me and runs down my thighs as Steve leans down to whisper in my ear.

“Don’t you know? Toys don’t get to cum.”

hope you enjoyed!!

[delightfultheoristfox]

Hesitate

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Crossposted on AO3.

This can be considered as a part 2 to Un-evil, but it can also be read as a standalone.

The description you'll read of Simon is heavily based on this fanart by @tiggerriot (give the creator some love!!!) because it has been occupying my mind 24/7. I'm in a chokehold.

18+

Word count: 6k

CW: smut (fingering, PinV), but with plot. Tiny angst, fluff. Protective and possessive Simon Riley. Mentions of stabbing and blood. Minor injuries.

Masterlist 🦊

𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬

“Quiet.”

He barges in. Because of course he does. There isn’t a piece of flooring in this godforsaken base that hasn’t been violently reclaimed by Ghost’s boots.

Not even in your goddamn room.

Thankfully, you have the reflexes of a trained operative and have moved out of the way in time, otherwise you'd be sporting a wonderful, purple knob in the middle of your forehead. And while there is a certain distaste surging in your chest – the kind that makes your lips pucker and your stomach knot –, you know there is very little you can do to move the mountain that is Ghost.

So, you close the door behind you with an exhausted sigh, as he ventures further into your room.

“Good eve-“

He swivels on his heel as soon as your mouth parts to speak. “Where the fuck ‘ave you been, uh?”

The balaclava on his face does absolutely nothing to hide the hatred sizzling in his eyes. Funny, because you’ve always thought that it was the whole point of the thing – to hide his face. You wonder, sometimes, if he knows just how expressive his eyes are. 

Does he know he tells so much more with those than he ever does with words? 

Nevertheless, yours are as telling as his own, as they bulge out of your sockets. The odd look you give him is comical, compared to the ire that's practically singeing his clothes.

“Uh,” you stutter. “Deployment?”

He narrows his eyes at you into tiny slits. So tiny you have to squint your eyes yourself to catch a glimpse of his irises.

“Alone?” He asks, clearly skeptical.

To match the distrust in his tone, you tilt your head toward his, brows furrowing in confusion. 

“…Yeah?” You reply, and the more you go on the more sarcastic you sound. “We do that, sometimes. Lone ops, recon. Y’know, we’re in the UKSF, in case you, uh – forgot.”

He hums gravelly. A sound that causes his body to straighten up as if the cogs have finally started whirring and working seamlessly once again.

“Don’t get smart, now.” He warns, freezing you with a look.

You pucker your lips and instinctively show him your palms, cheekily replying with an “I would never.”

Wrong move, unfortunately. 

You are your worst enemy. 

If this conversation goes downhill, you are the one to blame. Schedule a punishing whipping for yourself, later – you better fetch the goddamn cat o’ nine tails.

The movement causes the long sleeve of your loungewear to slip further down your forearm, pooling at your elbow, and exposing a large bruise. A galaxy of greens and mauves in the shape of five fingers and a large palm.

Ghost’s eyes zero on your arm with the rapidity of a hawk. Price has always said it, after all: he only knows one sniper who’s better than Ghost, and she’s a thousand klicks away now. You miss her – Farah would’ve been a lot nicer about this than him.

When his focus returns to you, he doesn’t even have to ask. As you’ve already stated time and time again, he conveys a lot more with his eyes.

And they are absolutely fuming. 

You suck in a sharp breath, nodding your head slowly while returning your sleeve where it’s supposed to be. Fucking traitorous piece of cotton that should stick around your wrist.

“Y’know,” you start, your chest all puffed because – well, you ain’t breathing right. Not with Ghost staring you down like you’ve gone and killed the King of England. “I had to sneak in, grab the USB key our contact set up for us, and then – bang, vanish. And I did it, yeah? I was brilliant at it.”

The smile on your face is as fake as the cheerful tone you’re using to dispense this information. It cracks as soon as you see the fabric of the balaclava shift on his jaw. 

He’s grinding his molars into dust.

“And?” 

You gesture vaguely. Shift your eyes to the ceiling. Tongue your cheek. Try to downplay it. “Well, ‘s nothing really.”

“Sergeant.” He barks. If he had hackles, they’d be dusting the ceiling. 

You sigh. 

God, how long have you been holding onto that breath? You’re positive it was the air you’ve inhaled, like, ten thousand years ago.

“Someone thought I was acting a bit dodgy and had me pinned to the floor.” You made grabby hands with a cheeky smile, “I have meaty forearms. Plenty to grip.”

Humor is usually the key to lessen the tension that would strangle your and his lungs. Normally, he’d let it go. He’d listlessly smack the back of your head or pinch the flesh of your biceps and call it a day.

Now, sarcasm seems like the last thing you should’ve resorted to. His posture is stiff and straight. The night lamp on your bedside table sheds light against his back, making him look like he's the wolf ready to pounce what it's going to be his dinner.

It makes your blood curdle.

“Yeah, okay.” You huff, digging your fingertips in the back of your neck to release some tension. “Nothing happened. I jabbed him in the throat before he could shout for help and shoved him under a desk. Got myself a proper blood shower.”

Ghost’s eye twitches.

And then he goes silent. 

Not the news of the year, of course. He’s always silent. You know he doesn’t get his callsign from that, but you can’t help but find his personality incredibly fitting with the military nickname.

However, this isn’t the usual Simon shut-up-and-sod-off Riley. He’s so still you wonder if he’s breathing. You have half a mind to wave your hand in front of his eyes to check if he’s gone catatonic.

You don’t, of course. Dogs bite.

You sneer, more in concern than anything, and gingerly take a step forward. Initially, your question comes out simply as a sideway tilt of your head paired with a puzzled look – a question mark would be floating above you, if physically possible.

But when that doesn’t seem enough to coax an answer out of him, you blurt out an “Oi.”

His eyes are jaded as they swivel to your face. Always with the heavy-lidded gaze that makes him look like he’d love to be anywhere but where he currently is. 

He seems… calmer. You're not sure whether it's a good or a bad thing. You prefer it when he's fuming because, as the saying goes, better the devil you know. 

“Off.” He states. 

Of course, he prefers syllables to full, clear sentences. Expressions you (or anyone else, really) don’t seem to catch, unfortunately. You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve told him that if he wants to have a conversation, he should start stringing words one after the other instead of settling for just one.

“What?” You deadpan. “Off with the bullshit? Off with my head? Words, L.T.” 

You don’t seem to have learned from your past mistake of using humor to sneak out of a predicament when Ghost appears to have all hell ready to unleash. 

He roughly points at your chest, “The shirt,” and then aims his finger to the floor. “Off.”

Look at you: dumbfounded. 

Sure, you two have fucked, occasionally – ever since he’d come to terms with the idea that he could do it without getting into trouble. It’s not like he gives two shits about someone finding out, he just doesn’t want to deal with commanding officers explaining to him why he shouldn’t stick it anywhere he finds fitting. God forbid someone puts him through one of those seminars about relationship policies and how they can disrupt the chain of command.

You splutter, “Wha – Excuse me?”

“Ya heard.” He reiterates. “The shirt. Off.”

You scoff. “You wanna fuck now?”

“Didn’t say tha’, did I?” He says flatly.

“Oh, sorry!” You snark. “Didn’t think there were other reasons why you’d want me to flash my tits.”

“Didn’t say tha’ either.” He deadpans and swipes his index finger in the air again. “Off with the shirt.”

You huff, pinching the bridge of your nose while, stubbornly, still wearing the t-shirt. 

“Not in the mood to have sex, honestly,” you explain, trying to stay calm in the face of the implications of the request. “I came back this morning, I’m beat. I need a cuppa and some sleep –“

He switches, then. “Take off that fucking shirt, sergeant.”

You bristle. Anyone would, at that tone.

Suddenly, you’re back to basic training in Pirbright with your wench of a drill instructor calling you a fucking idiot. 

Needless to say, you follow through with his order and rip the shirt off with more spite than cooperation. With a big frown on your face, you turn on your heel and start stomping angrily towards the bed.

“Make it quick.” You snap, getting on your knees on the edge of the mattress, ready to get pounded into oblivion. 

You’ll like it, eventually, even if you’re not really in the mood. 

Ghost fucks you good. It’s undeniable. 

You’ve soaked his sheets, his clothes, his mask – he’s that type of good. You won’t tell him though; his ego is already too big. If it grows more, HQ won’t be able to contain it and the whole base will blow up into smithereens.   

You’re saving lives, here, by keeping your mouth shut about it.

But he has other plans, it seems. 

“The fuck are you doin’.” 

It is not, in fact, a question. 

You look over your shoulder and find him still standing where you left him, a few paces back.

You quirk a brow, and shoot it back at him, “The fuck are you doing.”

“Why are you bendin’ over.” He states.

"To fuck?" You say, an unsaid obviously lingering in the air. 

Something shifts under his mask, as if he’s scowling. “Who said I wanted to fuck?” 

You splutter, yet again caught by surprise. “You made me get naked.”

He sighs, sounding exasperated, and approaches you, who is – by the way – still shamefully on all fours on the tiny bed of your quarters. 

Suddenly, all that spite sublimates under the heavy, hot weight of embarrassment. 

What are you doing, on your knees on the bed, half naked, if he doesn’t want to fuck?

In your defense, while the two of you often spent time chatting about everything and nothing, that happened in public places. Not once has he knocked on your door for a spot of tea and decent conversation.

Regardless, as soon as you manage to stand on your knees, you can feel him right behind you. Scorching fingers of shame crawl up to your neck. You feel your chest warm up, all the way to the apples of your cheeks. Awkwardly, you bring your arms up to cover your breasts. 

“Off,” he orders, again.

You swallow dryly, offering an insecure smile. “…With the pants?” 

He gives you a glacial look. Your blood freezes in your vessels. You think you might have turned cyanotic. 

“Fuckin’ hell – Off the bed.”

Obviously, your feet touch the ground with impeccable speed, because after that display, the least you can do is follow through with his orders before you make a fool of yourself twice in under a minute.

You feel his fingers curl around the top of your head, only allowing the pads to tangle through your hair and touch your scalp. It’s as if he doesn’t really want to touch you, but feels compelled to do so.

He flicks his wrist to give you a sense of the direction he wants you to turn to, and you do, waddling a little on your feet as you slowly twirl.

Your hands are tucked under your biceps, which are currently strangling your ribcage in an attempt to cover as much of your chest as you can with your forearms. 

When you’re finally facing him again, you look up at him through your lashes. His eyes, however, are not on your tits as you expect. He’s not even ogling, to be honest – which would be a blow to your ego, if the situation weren’t so… odd. 

Your brows are pinched. Your mouth parts only so you can suck in some air and then worry your lip between your teeth. 

This is much too intimate than what you’re used to. 

You realize, as he studies your body, with that weirdly placed hand on your head, that Ghost has never… seen it. 

Or – well, he’s seen it all right, but he’s never looked at it. Your encounters are usually very quick and to the point.

He fucks you. 

You come – once or twice. Thrice, if he’s feeling particularly generous.

He comes. 

Get yourself a glass o’ water and jog on. ‘M knackered.

Yeah, okay. G’night, prick.

Right back at ya.

That’s it.

Sometimes, you don’t even take off each other’s clothes. Sometimes, he doesn’t even turn on the lights. 

Now, his gaze is heavy as he looks at the dip of your waist, then at the fuzz below your belly button and where it leads, until the hem of your slouchy sweatpants that have seen better days. It’s like having lasers pointed at every nook and cranny of you, leaving scorching lines along your profile. 

He taps his finger on your forearm, the one without the bruise – a silent request to take your arms off your chest. Your hands are shaking as you comply, but you’re too preoccupied with him to notice. 

Ghost seems utterly uninterested at the sight of your tits bouncing down in response to gravity, instead setting his focus on the edges of your ribcage.

He flicks his wrist again, and you slowly turn the other way, giving him your back.

You feel his fingers twitch against your scalp, before a cold fingertip brushes against your right side.

"Here." He states, barely tracing the lines of your ribs. 

It's been so long since he's last spoken that you feel goosebumps rise along your neck. God, his voice will never not make your insides churn.

Regardless, you spread your elbows out, lifting your right arm so you can look at where he's pointing. You can't see much, but you definitely feel how the slight movement of your shoulder causes your right side to ache as if the skin were ready to burst at the seams.

“Ow.” 

You frown and curiously try again to take a peek at the cause of the pain. After some squirming, you spot the darkening patch of flesh, speckled with purples and yellows.

“Mh,” you muse. “Didn’t know that was there.”

The hand on your head finally abandons it, allowing the muscles on your neck to relax. 

You continue, somewhat feeling the need to explain why there is yet another bruise. “When that man saw me, he knocked me onto the floor. Must’ve hit it harder than I thought.”

He hums noncommittally. You could’ve told him the most absurd tale, and he wouldn’t have batted an eye, much too focused on the expanse of your back. 

You shrug, then. “’S alright. It’ll pass. It’s just a bruise.”

It’s then that he meets your eyes. 

There’s always a sort of veil over his, whenever the air around you both thickens. You wish you had scissors to rip it, sometimes. Or walk to the curtain and take a peek inside. 

“What is this?” You gesture at the two of you, looking back at him over your shoulder. “What are you doing?”

He deflects your questions with the same reflexes he uses to dodge bullets, answering instead with a question of his own. “You went to medical?”

Your lips twitch and you have to school your face into more muted frustration. 

Your response is a little petty, but you can’t help but give it to him. “No, just a couple of bumps, nothing that needs a trip to the doctor."

He is a looming shadow behind you, encompassing you with dark tendrils that threaten to swallow you whole. He sucks the warmth of the room with the ice embedded in his eyes – it forces you to look away, finding comfort in your own hands cupping your biceps.

You don’t even manage to reach for your t-shirt again, feeling the need to cover yourself up, that he curls an uncharacteristically gentle hand around your jaw. 

You stiffen. 

He seizes that moment to turn your head, his other fingers already hooked at the hem of his balaclava around the neck. He slides it up and off naturally.

There’s always some sort of solemnity when his face comes into view. 

Each groove and bump tell a story of their own, not a single one coming from the same tale, nor the same blade. 

He has crow's feet, but he rarely smiles – if ever. There are lines originating from the sides of his nose tipping at each corner of his mouth. They should symbolize happiness carved, but you fear it’s the opposite. 

Thick, convoluted scars paint him like rough brush strokes given by an angry hand – bristles of steel, paint of blood. 

Teeth peek out from a particularly gruesome injury that has torn the flesh off his upper lip. He constantly looks like he’s scowling at you, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d probably think he was. Would fit the character, and all.

Truth is, Simon rarely cares enough to scowl at anyone. You can either get a cold side glance or a disinterested one – if it’s the former, then you might be in his good graces. 

Right now, though, you don’t think he’s giving you either. His eyes are murky; a mud of anger, annoyance, and disappointment. He looks like he hates you with all his might, staring at you as if he could, by sheer force of thought, scoop out the eyes from your sockets.

“You wanna kill me?” You mumble, finding it hard to speak as he holds your jaw between his fingers. “Get in line, mate. There are at least a bunch a’ Russian men and their mothers before you, ever since I shanked their colleague.”

Then, his eyes leave yours to glance at your lips. He must think you haven’t noticed, because he doesn’t bother to hide it. However – and you’ve always found this incredibly interesting – Ghost tends to forget when he’s wearing the mask and when he isn’t. 

Each time, it’s like watching a child learning how to rein it in. Or, you know, like that sibling you have to surreptitiously elbow under the table at Christmas dinner when your pissed uncle is going off a tangent regarding the most idiotic, misplaced subject ever known to man.

That’s Ghost right now. 

The sibling elbowing him? Simon.

He blinks out of his headspace and then frowns, returning his eyes to yours.

“Don’t need to.” He grunts. “You’re doin’ a fine job by yourself.”

You scoff. “It’s just a bruise.”

His jaw ticks. 

“Yeah, but it’s on you.”

It’s said low and bitter, as if he’s had to fight tooth and nail to yank it out of his chest. 

You, on the other hand, are stock still in place – not only because of his hand holding you firmly by the jaw, forcing you to look over your shoulder to where he stands, but also because what was that?

You swallow but it's futile because your tongue is stuck to your palate. The air surrounding you crackles. The oxygen is lacking, and your lungs are suffering from it. 

You blink. That’s all it takes, and he lands his mouth on you.

Ghost’s kisses are always rough, determined to take your breath away and leave you wondering if you’ll ever say any other name but his own. This one is not much different, but you have to recognize that it is somewhat angrier. 

His lips part as if he could swallow you whole, working his tongue against yours and hindering your movements with his fingers holding your face, and a hand over your belly.

You can work with this. This, you know how to behave around. This is charted territory – the hunger, the stress, the need to decompress and find solace in the oasis you offer so generously between your legs.

You know the dance, and so you press your bum against his groin. You weren’t in the mood, like – ten minutes ago. You were a different person back then. 

If Ghost now wants to split you in half, you’d hand him the butcher knife.

You’re already turning feverish, lifting your right arm to tangle with his hair, ready to grab and pull and bite and – 

He stops you.  Palm to your knuckles, guiding it down once more. He doesn’t hold your hand, instead removing his own as though your skin were burning coal. 

Not as carefully, though, he snakes under your sweatpants and unceremoniously dips his middle finger inside your cunt.

“Fuck,” you hiss. 

You weren’t that wet, and while you're not one to say no to a bit of pain, this has caught you so off guard that you decide to chastise him by nipping at his lower lip. 

It’s not much of a punishment, you guess, because his hips jerk to rub himself against you. 

You wish to move and take this to the bed, where you can lie down and be his pillow princess. Let him fuck you until his heart's content, because you're tired and you'd love to get used for his pleasure and yours.

But he’s an unmoving statue, boots glued to the floor and hand shackled to your pussy, dipping in relentlessly until your knees buckle under the sheer pressure of his finger buried to the knuckle. 

When your hips start undulating to increase the friction – specifically of his palm against your neglected bundle of nerves where your pussy tips – he inserts a second finger, and you positively melt against his chest. It’s then that he releases your lips, allowing you to moan under your breath. 

He starts sucking blindly at whatever piece of skin he can find, leaving love bites on the length of your shoulders all the way to your neck. Teeth and tongue and words that escape his lips, while he curls his fingers inside you, drowning your thoughts in frayed growls from his mouth, and raunchy squelches from between your legs. His offhand gets busy and starts toying and pulling at your nipples. 

You're being absolutely ravaged; his nails are talons and he wants to rip you apart and eat you inside out after he's prepped you alright. It's juxtaposing - the pleasure, and the crudeness. It's new, but not unwelcome.

“You should’ve told me.” He grunts. You don’t pay it much mind, he usually murmurs a lot during sex, and less than half of the time you catch what he says – the other times, you’re already too stupid to use your senses.

“Should’ve.”

He snaps his finger upward, burying them to the knuckle.

“Told me."

Then rolls his palm against your clit.

"You were being posted." 

Finally, he curls his fingers inside, making your legs quiver.

You whimper and your eyes roll back. Is this your punishment? Hell fucking yes, then. You’ll keep your secrets more often. 

But alas, you do feel compelled to at least explain and apologize.

“M’sorry,” you breathe, “It was a last-minute thing. Got called the day before.”

Surely, he’ll understand. That’s how deployments work: they give you a timeframe, and you might or might not get the dreaded call. If you do, then you’re off – one day you’re lounging at the beach, the next you’re buried in gore.

No in-between. 

You don't want to distract him though. You're so close. If he just – moved a little, maybe? Or allowed you to rest your legs somewhere. 

You shift imperceptibly so that you can rub your clit at your preferred pace against his palm. The callouses on the heel of his hand make it somehow even better.

He allows you, meaning that even if you’ve kept the deployment from him, he’s feeling magnanimous.

You roll your head against his shoulder to nuzzle his neck, the tip of your nose tucked behind his lobe. You pant as he fucks you with his fingers, and murmur sweet things about how good he is to you, because he’s being kind and for that he deserves a generous stroke to his ego. You leave open kisses on his neck, his jaw, lapping the sweat off his skin with your tongue – to try and give back some of the pleasure he’s offering you.

When you come, it is with a loud groan muffled in his neck, and he holds you by the waist before you keel over. The orgasm almost stings, since he’s ripped it out of you so quickly and forcefully. It tingles from the tips of your toes, curling against the linoleum, all the way to the knot that finally snaps in your gut. 

Only then, when your vision clears and your skin still prickles in goosebumps, do you hear him through the ringing of your ears.

“You don’t understand.” He’s saying, like a prayer repeated gruffly to the skin of your neck. 

He doesn’t say it once, he doesn’t say it twice. He repeats it with fervor, and the more it escapes his mouth, the angrier it gets.

You feel the back of your knee being pushed by his own, and you stumble forward on the mattress. You’re confused, still descending from the high of your orgasm, feeling your limbs move under his command and notyours. Trying to find sense in his words. 

You don’t understand.

Your ears are cottoned – the orgasm has been that blissful – but you still catch the sound of a zipper being pulled down. Your front is plastered against the mattress, cheek buried in linen of freshly washed sheets. 

You don’t have the strength to stand, nor to look behind, so you can solely rely on your hearing, on your touch.

Shallow breaths. 

Shuffle of fabric – he’s taking off his shirt. 

His hand skims over your back, purposefully avoiding the bruise on your side. 

A finger pulls down the sweatpants to your ankles – the air feels cold against your skin, flushed and burning. 

Wet fingertips trail down your legs with uncommon reverence, until they reach down and yank the pants off your feet.

The denim of his jeans shifts. A thud – he’s on his knees.

He forces your leg to bend and kisses your ankle. Then the arch of your foot. Your toes, and it makes your cunt flutter around nothing. The actions are paired with a wet, rhythmic sound – he’s touching himself the way you’d touch him. 

He has fingered you with such voracity you thought you’d rip in half on his hand, and now he’s on his knees, kissing your feet. He’s switching rapidly – angry, then devoted. 

The former you know, but the latter is different. It’s new. 

You feel the mattress dip and protest under the additional weight, each of his thighs on either side of yours, keeping your legs flush together. 

A hand appears in your vision, gripping the sheets. 

You kiss the knuckle on his thumb, and he flicks it gently over your nose. 

His chest exudes warmth even if he isn’t properly touching your back. He simply hovers above it, putting his weight on his palm, while his other hand is busy stroking his cock.

You're wet and prepped just how he likes, in fact he slides in easily. 

You already came, which means you're hypersensitive – it feels like he's inserting something long and scorching hot inside. Your breath hitches in your throat at the intrusion, and he dips his forehead to your shoulder, leaving an apologetic kiss.

He fucks you slow and deep, dragging backward without ever pulling out. He wants to stay sheathed inside. He wants to bury himself in there, with your velvet walls squeezing him dry. You won’t complain. You’ll keep him snug until he’s sated. Until you are, too.  

This dance you know as well, and so you fold your arms behind you, bending your elbows so that he can grip both your forearms with one hand and use them as leverage to rail you until you’re only babbling nonsense.

But he… doesn’t?

He still fucks you, sure, but his hand doesn’t reach for your arms, preferring the sheets instead, and it makes you feel a little neglected, wondering if you're doing something wrong. Sure – you just came, he’s treated you to your nice little post-operation orgasm, and then proceeded to fuck you. So, he must still be into this – into you. 

Right? 

You thought this could’ve been a nice way to reciprocate, since you know how much he likes to get you to bend as he pleases.

A thank you of sorts. 

You reach up with your fingers, tickling his abdomen to make him notice that you’ve prepared yourself for him, arms knotted behind your back like a bow on a present – just in case he’s missed it, you know?

But he reaches down only to guide your arms back to the bed, distending them ahead. He goes to hold one hand but stops, instead digging his palm back into the mattress.

Just when you’re about to protest, lifting your head from the bed, he drags his tongue around the shell of your ear. 

You shudder. 

"I- I'm not good at this." He grunts as he fucks you slowly, dragging breathy moans out of your lips. "So jus’ listen for once in your goddamn life.”

It’s then that his pace picks up, punching a ragged groan out of your lips at the first abrupt thrust. 

He’s either doing it to shut you up, or to make you focus on something else while he speaks. So, maybe, if you’re busy molding your pussy around his cock and rolling your eyes to the back of your head, you won’t hear what he’s saying.

“Lieut –“

“Simon.” He chides loudly. “Fuck – Told you it’s Simon, ‘ere.”

You grip the sheets as your head bobs to the pace he takes. Your breathing is more akin to a wheeze, and your belly flutters each time he hits you just right.

“Simon,” you whimper.

“Yeah,” he croons. “Simon. Good.”

Simon is as breathless as you are, but much more contained.

“Need to know where you are,” he murmurs under his breath. “You got no idea wha’ I –“

He releases a shuddering breath that tickles your ear. 

You’re keening and shivering, trying to focus on his words but it seems like he’s trying his best to prevent you from listening, even if he’s the one who’s asked you to.

There’s something rabid in his motions. He bullies his cock as deep as it can reach, his hips brutally slap against your ass. You can feel the fat recoiling, the vibration tipping at the base of your skull. He’s feral and yet it’s so different.

He groans, but it's frustrated more than satisfied. 

“You got no fuckin’ idea, do ya?” He mutters the sentence like a curse. “No fuckin’ idea. You – “

You reach for his hand with your own, but he swats it away. 

You try again and he nibbles at your ear.

“Don’t." He warns lowly, stilling his motions until he’s hilted all the way inside. 

You suck in a breath as he shoves himself until there’s not an inch of space for him to move.

He’s ramrod stiff above you, struggling to keep his chest off your back – denying you of his skin. Of intimacy. Of contact. 

You twist your head that much to look at his face and find him staring blankly ahead. 

To say it worries you would be an understatement, especially if paired with the puzzling behavior he’s had all evening. 

You follow the trajectory of his gaze with your eyes and heartbreakingly discover that he's burning holes in your bruised flesh – the hand of that now-dead man still darkly imprinted on your skin. 

Is that why he doesn't touch you? Is that why he's taking pains to not press his weight on your body when he'd usually have you flattened under the whole of him?

You feel yourself falter. “Si-“

“You’re hurt.” he croaks. “I’ll hurt you more.”

You don’t know what staggers you the most: his cock up your cervix making you dizzy, or the hesitance in his voice. 

Hesitance.

Simon doesn’t hesitate. He’s not tentative. 

He takes.

If he can’t take, he delegates, and whatever he needs eventually will fall into his hand. 

You fell into his hand without too much of a fuss. He gave you the impression that you were the one demanding and obtaining, but the truth obviously lies elsewhere. 

Simon wanted you, too. He wants you, too.

He gave you the chance to sneak into his office and request an immediate closure to the cat-and-mouse chase. He delegated it to you.

And then he took.

Hesitance, clearly, isn’t in his daily vocabulary. 

This dance, you don’t know. You’re out of your zone. You don’t know which steps to take without tripping over his toes and disrupting the music. 

He’s unmoving inside of you, catching his breath with his lips on your ear.

“Can’t hurt you.” He breathes, and you have to focus to even catch it. 

“You won’t,” you whisper, trying a first step. “I’ll tell you if – “

And it’s the wrong one.

He starts again, pulling out and fiercely slamming back in. Your breathing snaps, palm coming down to slap against the mattress, “Fuck!”

It would feel oh, so good, if you were in the right headspace. 

He won’t allow you to talk. He’s begging you, in his contorted ways, to let him speak without judgment. Without the fear of knowing he has dropped the mask too low. 

This is his time. 

You should’ve shut your mouth, for once, and allowed him to speak. Stupid, stupid, stupid. 

He asked for one thing. 

Jus’ listen for once in your goddamn life.

You purse your lips in a line and nudge your head against his own, a silent way to prompt him to go on.

I’m sorry. I’m listening.

“You got no idea.” He repeats again, but this time his voice cracks – overwhelmed.

He starts his voracious pace that always steals your breath and fucks your brain into a mush.

“I’ve looked for ya, asked ‘round – no one fucking knew. Got told you were off on deployment, and that’s it.” 

Each word is as accusatory and irate as the cock he’s drilling inside of you. 

“You weren’t comin’ back. One. Two. Three weeks. No fuckin’ sign of ya.” He thrusts in for each week you’ve gone missing, “I was – “

He stops. Inhales sharply. Hesitates, once again.

“Don’t wanna feel tha’ again – don’t put me through that again.”

Suddenly, you can feel everything at once. 

Your body perks up. 

Vision, hearing, touch, taste, smell – all filled of him.

And it’s not about sex anymore. 

It never has been, but how obvious it is now.

You want to hold his hand, but you decide to leave him space. 

The hand-shaped bruise on your arm glares at him like a promise he silently made with himself and failed to keep. You won’t make him feel like he broke a thing, because he hasn’t.

If anything, you’ve never felt more whole in your life.

You and Simon have never gone further than physical. You don't know how to soothe a heart so afraid if it belongs to him. So, you do the only thing you’ve learned that manages to get through to him.

You keen and moan and breathe, allowing tiny praises and sinful curses to leave your lips. 

Like that – yeah. Shit.

Yes, yes, yes. 

Deeper. Please.

His name – not his callsign, not his rank.

Simon, you croon. Simon, Simon, Simon. 

You feel the pressure of his come spurting out, flooding your walls like a dam has broken and crushed. His mouth on your ear won’t allow a single sound to pass, but he’s clearly overly affected – you know, by the way his breath comes. As if he’s clinging to life and has found purchase for survival right on your skin.

You want to kiss him, but you leave the choice up to him. You won’t squirm under the press of his forehead against your temple, but your lips are there for him to taste – moist and plump and ready.

Simon’s lashes flutter against your cheekbone as he regains his bearings. Looks at you. His eyes hint at regret – it’s a fraction of a second that has your stomach knot. But then he squashes it down, when he realizes that you saw nothing wrong in his words.

He kisses your cheek, and then your lips. Thankfulness seeps through.

"Don't hide from me again," he murmurs and gingerly hooks his thumb around your pinky. Not touching you yet, not so close to where you’re already aching.

You curl your finger around his own. “I won’t.”

[watermelonlovershigh]

Friends Who Share Mutual Emotions {part 3.} (housemate!harry series)

Arguments and Confessions {part 2.} (housemate!harry series)

AN: i've been in a writing mood lately so i hope you enjoy me spitting out these stories left and right lol. anyways, here is part 3 to my housemate series. before you ask, yes there will be a part 4 and hopefully a couple more after that. let me know how you liked it and make sure to leave your feedback. thank you and enjoy!

This story contains: mentions of one-night stands, confessions of feelings, slight angst, fluff

{ housemate!harry - friendrry - soft!harry - au harry }

word count- 1,372

Harry confesses that you're the women he likes and after giving you some time to think, you have an eventful conversation about your mutual feelings and how you'd like to move forward within your friendship.

Looking deeply in your eyes, Harry answers clearly, "Her name..... her name is Y/n." The weight of his confession leaves you standing in the kitchen, completely shocked. When you initially asked him about his love interest, you never anticipated that he would reveal his feelings for you. Although he described some of your qualities, you didn't think much of it, as many people can possess similar traits.

Realizing that you need some time to process his words, Harry rises from his stool and states, "I don't expect you to feel the same way about me or anything. I'll give you some space to think, alright?" With that, he turns around and retreats back to his bedroom.

Now standing alone in the kitchen, you find yourself torn about what to do. On one hand, the man who kindly allowed you to stay in his home as a housemate, who eventually became your friend, and whom you've developed feelings for, has just confessed his affection for you. It seems like the ideal outcome, but what if something goes wrong? You would risk losing your best friend and a place to live.

On the other hand, if everything goes well, you could finally experience a fulfilling relationship. You could put an end to the casual encounters and truly understand the intimacy that others have experienced in Harry's bed. You would have the opportunity to feel his touch on your skin and savor his kisses, something you had only imagined during fleeting encounters with strangers.

---------------------------

You head to Harry's bedroom and upon reaching his door, you give it a hesitant knock. A soft voice responds with, "Come in." and you take that as your signal to enter. Inside, you find him sitting up in bed with his cat Pixie beside him, and the TV showing old episodes of Friends.

Approaching his bed slowly, Harry gestures for you to sit beside him. After a deep breath, you confess, "I want you to know that I have feelings for you too, Harry. How could I not? You're kind and sweet, and anyone would be foolish not to have a crush on you. But, I'm afraid."

Harry turns off the TV to focus on you. "Afraid of what, Y/n?" he asks, "We both like each other. What's there to fear?"

"It's not that simple, Harry," you respond with a hint of frustration. Why can't he see your concerns? Maybe it's a gender difference. Men don't worry about relationships as much as women do. Well at least from your personal experiences.

"Can you explain then, please? I want to understand your fears so we can move forward in a way that works for both of us."

Shifting uncomfortably on the bed, you express, "Harry, what if things don't work out between us? What happens then? I could lose a friend and I might not have enough money to cover regular rent in London."

"Y/n, our mutual feelings don't automatically require us to rush into a romantic relationship. We can proceed at a comfortable pace, one day at a time. Even if we don't progress beyond friendship, I value our bond too much to risk losin' it. As for your concern about losin' a place to stay, rest assure that I would never evict you if things don't work out romantically. You were my housemate first and foremost, and that won't change. Well, unless you want to move out someday that is."

Hearing his words have made your eyes gloss over. You can hear the sincerity in his voice and it makes your heart swell. But, you still need some clarification to move forward. "So like, where do we go from here, Harry? I don't want to think we're one thing but you assume we're something else. I don't want to constantly be questioning where we stand. What's too much or what's not enough."

Harry adjusts his posture, leaning closer to you. He carefully reaches out for your hands and clasps them within his larger grasp, holding them gently as he begins to speak. "As I mentioned earlier, Y/n, we can take this slow. Let our connection develop naturally. At this moment, I would describe our relationship as friends, but friends who share mutual emotions. And in response to a question I know you may have, no, I will not be sleepin' with anyone else. And I don't expect..."

Anticipating his next words, you swiftly interject, "No, neither am I. I mean, being involved with someone else intimately. I can promise you that. Besides, I never truly enjoyed having one-night stands. I only sought them out as a means to conceal my feelings for you. But now that my feelings are out in the open, there's no reason to hide them any longer. From now on I only want you."

Chuckling in relief, Harry murmurs, "Just me, huh?" He was incredibly anxious that you might still have the desire to sleep with other people, even though that didn't make much sense after you had confessed your feelings for him. However, he couldn't be entirely certain.

You lean forward, wrapping your arms around Harry's body, embracing him tightly. "Of course, Harry. I would never do that to you. Besides, most of the men I slept with were unsatisfactory, so I'm perfectly fine with giving up my one-night stands."

Harry reciprocates the embrace, then teasingly asks, "Unsatisfactory? Are you tellin' me those muscular, macho men you brought home hardly ever satisfied you?"

You respond, your voice filled with affection against his neck, "That's right. And when they did, it was usually because I was thinking of you."

"Alright, let's end that conversation right here or we'll have a problem on our hands and break our 'takin' it slow' rule." Harry remarks, trying to maintain a sense of caution. If you kept talking about how you always thought of him while having sex with all those strangers, he'd get hard in his pants and he doesn't want to make you uncomfortable right now. Nor does he want to move that fast. Like he said, he genuinely would like to take whatever you are, slow.

You laugh at his words and playfully say, "Can we take a nap? I'm feeling tired. Didn't get much sleep last night."

Harry nods in the embrace you still hold and replies, "Yeah, we can take a nap if you'd like. I didn't get much sleep last night either."

As you sit up, you carefully shift towards Harry's side where he's preparing a space for you to rest. "Seriously?" you inquire. Although you noticed his exhaustion when he entered the kitchen earlier, you didn't consider that it might be due to a lack of sleep.

"Yeah," Harry begins to coo while helping you under his duvet, "felt awful with how I spoke to you last night. The guilt ate me alive and I couldn't sleep."

Now laying side by side, facing each other, you whisper out, "Awe, well you can rest easy now. I forgive you." As your eyes flutter shut, Harry can't help but think about how you're too far away from him. Even though you're literally just six inches apart in reality.

So without thinking, he draws himself closer to you and wraps you in his arms. Which in turn has you pressed up against his clothed chest. "Is this alright?" Harry whispers quietly. Although he wishes to take things slowly, cuddling is typically considered a leisurely activity, isn't it? It remains innocent and platonic.

"Yes, very much alright." you reply and soon after fall asleep. The musky smell Harry produces along with the warmth of his body lulls you right to sleep. It may be only nine in the morning but with your lack of sleep the night before, have no trouble falling unconscious.

Harry also falls into a deep slumber. The comfort of having you in his arms lulls him into a state of relaxation, leading him to quickly doze off. His cat Pixie has now settled at the foot of the bed, peacefully asleep alongside you both. Harry's once anxious room is now filled with tranquility. The unfolding of your friendship will become more apparent when you wake up later today.

(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)

(no more tags are allowed because i've hit my number limit. sorry : ( )

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My Masterlist Masterpost

A Shift Occurs {part 4.} (housemate!harry series) (SMUT)

[scorpioriesling]

Random Tropes HC (pt. 2)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Lucien / Eris x reader

Warnings: slight sexual suggestions

Summary: Random tropes, and how each would play out, depending on the character... and you, of course.

SR’s Note: I saw a filter on Tik Tok where you can rank book tropes, and this idea came to mind. I am using my top 6 (not in order) for the purpose of these posts -- enjoy! Part 1

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Lucien - "Only One Bed"

You were definitely crushing on Lucien -- who wouldn't?

You were close with him and Tamlin, working at the Spring Manor until you became more than an employee, but a friend.

Well, a friend to Lucien anyway.

Tamlin took note of how well you were able to spy, and turned you into his own personal Spymaster.

You didn't mind too much -- after a while, Tamlin warmed up to you. He also appreciated how you made Feyre feel more comfortable when she first arrived in the Spring Court.

As fate would have it, you and Feyre were a lot alike.

It didn't take long to see what was going on. She was planning to run.

Over the last few months, Tamlin grew more enraged, more angry at the world. You couldn't stay, you knew you had to get out.

And Cauldron be damned, Lucien was coming with you.

He wasn't happy about it at first, especially when the two Night Court warriors winnowed Feyre away and left the two of you to walk the rest of the way to the Night Court.

"Do you think he will change?" Lucien asks you, the cold wind ruffling his hair. You shiver against the wind.

"No," you say after a long moment. Lucien pulls you close to him, heat radiating from his body against the chill.

"I don't know if we could ever go back." He says. You sigh and bury closer to him, trying to keep in step with his long legs.

"I don't think he'd allow us back." You say. Tears prick the back of your eyes, but you blink to keep them at bay. Lucien changes the conversation, happier topic chosen this time. He is talking about all the delicious food the Night Court must have when you finally spot a motel in the distance.

"Our salvation!" Lucien gasps. He grabs you by the arm, pulling you with him as he breaks into a jog. You're panting trying to keep up, but you finally make it to the building.

"We're just about sold out." The stocky female behind the desk murmurs. Lucien sighs and runs a hand through his hair. You're standing behind him, and you place a delicate hand on his shoulder. He turns to you, gaze softening.

"Ma'am, we'll take whatever you have left." You say. She rummages through her drawers, presenting a single golden key on a long corded string.

"Floor 2. Last door on the right." She huffs. You anxiously take it from her, looping the string around your neck. The key dangles like a pendant on a necklace as you take Lucien's hand in yours and lead him upstairs.

Some salvation this is.

There's only one bed.

A blessing in disguise.

"Cauldron..." he sighs, slinging his bag to the floor. "I'll just, take the floor." He says, moving into the room. You furrow your brow.

"Lucien, do you think I've never had a sleepover before? We can share." You say. You rifle through your pack for extra clothes, and with a wave of his hand, the candles and fireplace are alight with warmth.

"Well... only if you're okay with that." He says. You nod, realizing then that you have no sleepwear. Lucien seems to realize the same thing as his hands come up empty.

"You can shower first, if you were wanting to." You offer kindly. The firelight is painting his features beautifully, and you force yourself to look away. But Gods, was it hard.

"Thanks!" With that, he was heading for the bathroom. You sighed, flopping down on the bed. You hadn't expected this level of comfort from a motel bed, but the soft silky blankets, the plush pillows...

You sighed a breath of contentment, fingers toying with the gold key laced around your neck.

You stripped down to your undergarments, as your clothes from the day were filthy. Folding them into a neat pile beside the bed, you slipped under the sheets, goosebumps erupting over your body as the blankets had not yet warmed.

Lucien finally came out of the bathroom, his eyes raking over your bare shoulders not concealed by the covers. He choked down a cough, and you kept your eyes closed as he slid into the bed next to you.

His bare arm brushed yours, and your eyes flew open. You readjusted to lay on your side, and so did he at the contact. However, now you were face to face.

"Are you... cold?" He asked. His sweet gaze held yours as his fingers timidly grazed your shoulder. Fresh goosebumps appeared, and you shivered.

"Yes." He frowned.

"Comere." His hand gripped your waist, fingers over your hip bone as he pulled you flush against him. You pretended not to notice the growing buldge pressing against you as his hand traced small patterns over your back.

"I can give you some of my body heat, if this is okay?" He asks, voice low and raspy. Maybe it was the way his lips were inches from yours, the small candelight illuminating his perfectly sculpted face...

Or maybe you had finally decided to be honest.

"It's more than okay." You said. Heat returned to your cheeks, and a small smile danced on his lips as his gaze flicked between your eyes and mouth.

He reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers lingered, trailing down your neck to the small key still looped around it. He toyed with it for a moment, before his lust-filled amber eyes met yours once more.

"I can give you more, if that would be okay too." He whispered. You shook again, this time the excited, anxious, energy rolling from you.

"It's more than okay."

Eris - "Who Did This To You?"

Reading was one of Eris' favorite pass times.

In fact, it was one thing he had in common with you.

The only thing, he swore.

One of many things, actually.

In fact, Eris was doing just that when he heard a commotion outside. Usually, it was his father. He'd learned not to get involved, but this time...

This was different.

His heartstrings tugged as he strained his ears, trying to listen beyond his windows for any indication of what was happening.

"Please... please..."

He snapped his novel shut, flying to his feet and racing outside. He wasn't sure what had come over him -- but he knew. He could feel it. You were here, and you needed him.

He'd thought over and over the last few years how you'd cry. How he would and could make you do it. Thought about killing you himself, once. Using his fire on you in ways he'd done only once before. You were acting like a lap dog, sitting with the Inner Circle at one of their meetings. Rhysand didn't let you talk, of course. You didn't even challenge him. You always let him walk all over you.

Maybe that's what pissed him off so badly.

You were packed full of good ideas, talents, advice; but you bowed to Rhysand, and that was that. You never spoke up for yourself.

You were worth so much more than that. You could offer so much more than you were allowed.

He tore through the hedge maze, snapping branches, feet thundering around every corner. His breathing was heavy, eyes searching in the night to find you.

"Please, Eris... someone..."

He followed your pained whimpering until he found you in the middle of the maze. You were slumped against the large water fountain, breathing unevenly as blood stained your neck, dried flakes throughout your usually vibrant tendrils. Your hands braced over your abdomen, tears creating tracks down your dirtied face.

"Oh my Gods..." He rushed to you, and you looked at him in desperation. His heart broke in two, seeing you crumpled and hurt in front of him.

His sadness turned very quickly, to anger. He felt... violent.

He ran his hands over your face, seeing blood pouring from your lip, and he reached up to move some hair from your forehead -- a huge gash the cause for the ever growing pool you sat in. Well, one of the causes. He was fuming, hands trembling as he tried to stay gentle with you, but absolute rage filled his every vein at how this could have happened to you.

Who could've let this happen to you.

"Eris, I..." you coughed, more crimson drops landing on the stone pathway below. "I... I didn't mean to... this is the first place I thought of..." another loud sob wretched from you, and Eris cupped your cheek. His whiskey eyes were dulled to a deep bourbon, his jaw clenched.

"Come with me."

He scooped you up, carrying you as carefully as he could back to his wing of the Forest House. You let out small yelps, the searing pain in your stomach too much to handle.

"Please, stay with me Y/N," he pleaded, looking down at you sorrowfully. He felt as though he was carrying a small, injured deer -- that is what you were. A gentle, wise, doe. His gentle doe.

He finally made it inside, sitting you on the sofa in front of the fireplace as he ran to the washroom and returned quickly. He presented a small wet cloth, taking your chin in his fingers and beginning to wipe away the red stains over your delicate skin. He tried so hard to stay gentle with you, trying to replicate the softness you'd always offerred others.

But, that's one thing you didn't have in common. He wasn't soft, or sweet like you. He tried to steady his breathing, gazing into your round, watery eyes instead. It only caused him more pain, seeing you like that. His head dropped, and he raked a hand through his hair.

"Put this in here," he grabbed a clean cloth, folding it and raising it to your mouth. You opened, usually defiant towards your enemy, but, really... you'd do anything he asked. He placed it between your teeth, and his hands covered your bloody ones, still clutching your stomach.

"Y/N... you have to move your hands." He says. Your eyes screw shut as you groan, removing your hands shakily. He breathes a sharp gasp, shaking his head.

"Hold onto me." He says. You look to him in confusion, and he places your stained fingers on his shoulders. One of his hands lingers on your for a moment, and he pressed the inside of your wrist to his lips. He looks back to you, eyes already asking for forgiveness.

"I'll be honest, I've thought about hurting you before as you've hurt me," he says, voice deep with ... something. Something you couldn't place. You could barely focus as your mind started to fog, vision clouding with black spots. "...but never like this."

He sighs one last time, a hand coming into view, fingers ablaze with fire. You sit up, or try to anyway -- a sob racks your chest, muffled by the cloth, and Eris holds you down, hand splayed over your sternum.

"Hold onto me." He says again. His hand meets your bubbling would, fire searing the skin as a scream tears through your already dry, cracked throat, only quieted by the cloth you’re biting down on. Your eyes blow wide, and you squirm under his hold. He looks at you with regret, pulling back for a moment only to press heat onto your would again.

Your hands rip and claw at the collar of his shirt, red already smeared over most of it. He huffs an apologetic sigh, continuing to carterize your open would.

Over. Over. Over again.

You lean back, knowing the familiar weightless feeling. You were going to black out. His once-white collar slips from your fingers, and your eyes meet his one last time before you slink into darkness.

When you come to, you're wrapped cozily in silken sheets, a pair of fleece pants covering your legs. Soft sunlight streams in through... a window. You blink, widening your eyes and looking around. The mahogony sheets were an unusual replacement to your lilac ones, and the four poster wooden bed was a change as well. Your eyes caught on a bookshelf, one with many titles like yours, at least. One book sat on the window seat, basked in sunlight. It was a title you'd already read.

You were in Eris' room.

You lean to sit up, but cry out in pain and lay back down, head flopping against the plush pillows under your head. Your hands instinctively reach toward your stomach, tugging at the hem of the tank top you bore. A bandage was wrapped around your midsection, concealing any injury. Your mind went to last night, what you'd endured, winnowing to the Autumn Court, the burning...

In moments, Eris is passing through the doorway, concern threading his brows together as he looks you up and down.

"Is everything alright?" He steps to the bed, sitting on the edge of it. He pulls the covers up, tucking them around you in comfort. You shake your head, silver lining your eyes as they meet his.

"I... they took me last night." You manage to get out. Eris readjusts to face you, a hand stroking through your hair. He bites on his lower lip, eyes searching yours.

"Who. Who took you Y/N." He says. It sounds like more of a demand than a question.

You shake your head, a tear slipping free as you remember being kidnapped from your bed, and tossed onto the mountainside. The feeling of snow under your knees, rocks in your palms only the beginning of the pain you'd endure before somehow winnowing away.

"It was... they wanted me to partake in the..." you stifle another cry. Eris brushes his thumb against your cheek.

"The fucking Blood Rite." He bites out. Anger radiates off of him, the small fire in the fireplace near the window growing with each passing second.

Again, he asked, eyes boring into yours. "Y/N, who did this to you?"

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

[hyunsusgf]

those eyes. (part 2)

part 1

synopsis … after pining after the man for so long, cha hyun-su is officially your boyfriend.

pairing … cha hyun-su x gn!reader ༝༚༝༚ featuring bsf!eun-yu once again

warnings … none really per usual

lovely notes … (not) long awaited part 2!! finally yip yip

꩜ [ 1.1k words ]

“in love.”

what the actual fuck. your best friend that you’re like, in love with just confessed that he was in love with you. this has to be a dream, something so unreal because how could cha hyun-su, your hyun-su reciprocate your romantic feelings?

you didn’t respond because you were unable to form words. how were you supposed to respond to this man confessing his love for you? say you love him back. which wasn’t a lie but were you ready to say something as earnest as that?

“wait, i didn’t mean that; i did but if you don’t feel the same then please pretend i didn’t say it. i don’t wanna ruin our friendship, you know you’ve been one of my close friends for the longest and i’d ha-“ he started with the word vomit, basically unable to stop himself.

“hyun-su.” you tried to interrupt him.

“-te to ruin what we have. not relationship-wise, but you know like ruin our friendship. i really do value it. i’m sorry if i made things-“ he continued.

“cha hyun-su.” you tried to interrupt him for a second time.

“between us awkward. i don’t want us to not be friends so i’m really sorry if this does ruin..”

“hyun-su. i-“ you let out a shaky breath before continuing, finally catching his attention. “i love you so so much hyun-su… i can’t pretend that i don’t anymore. you need to know that i’ve grown to care for you deeply, since the first time i laid eyes on you. i was just so unaware of how i truly until recently. it feels as if i was put in this universe simply to love you, and to care for you. because you are my everything hyun-su and i’d rather die than imagine living in a world without you. even in this fucked up world, i’d hate to live in it without. i love you hyun-su, so much.”

your confession left both you and hyun-su speechless. you didn’t know that you couldn’t put your feelings into words like how you did, but you were able to do it. you were finally able to tell your best friend how you felt about him. meanwhile, he was left speechless because he didn’t know that this entire time when he felt as if his existence centered around you, you felt the same.

you cared for him, you’ve been in love with him ever since you first met him, and you can’t imagine living in a world without him. above all, you’ve harbored the same feelings that he has all this time.

“i didn’t know you felt the same way.”

“well, you know now so…”

“does this make you my girlfriend now?” hyun-su asked a bit bashfully.

“obviously. but only if this makes you my boyfriend.”

after your statement, the two of you stood there practically basking in the other's presence. everything felt better now that not only were both of your feelings, but you’re officially dating.

it felt good to have someone to call your partner in the monster outbreak you found yourself in the midst of. not only was he your partner, but he was your best friend. he was the person you always confided in, spent time with, and one of the few people whose presence didn’t exasperate you to no end.

“so, where are we off to now, boyfriend?” you asked him, all smiley and giggling at the fact that he was really yours.

“wherever you decide to take us, girlfriend.” he replied, giving the same excited energy that you gave off.

as you and hyun-su walked hand in hand through the corridors, you both were unaware of eun-yu watching you with a smile.

she assumed her matchmaking skills had worked this entire time. she’s spent so long trying to get the both of you together, but she guessed her recent conversation with you finally made you come to your senses and confess (not knowing that hyun-su was the one who did it first.)

she was so tired of seeing the both of you sneak glances at the other while they weren’t looking, or listening to you make little comments about hyun-su that sounded a little too intimate to be meant in a friendly way.

for example, the one time you described him as “so boyfriend”, whatever that was supposed to mean. but who refers to their friend using their boyfriend? someone who wants to be with said friend of course.

so, eun-yu did what had to be done and set her two friends up, but it was mainly because she couldn’t bear to see both of you pining after the other.

she should honestly be given the friend of the year award with how many times she’s been helping you. she has seen you in both your best and worst moments, and she’s stayed through all of it. she doesn’t regret it though, she’d help you all over again if she had to.

you and hyun-su walked hand in hand to the staircase he always found himself on. as you made it there, you both just sat there in a comfortable silence, as the two of you often found yourself in.

with this outbreak, you never imagined yourself being in a relationship, and definitely not with the boy you’ve had a crush on for like, forever.

the serendipity of your situation felt just right. hyun-su being one of the only good things in such a fucked up situation felt just right for you.

“i never thought i’d, like, find myself here, you know?”

“find yourself where?” hyun-su questioned you.

“like alive in the apartments, and with you.” you said somewhat timidly.

it felt a little odd being so vulnerable with him so quickly. but, that was just the kind of comfortable you both were with each other. the kind of comfortable where you could confess any and everything without the feeling of the other shaming you.

“i know. sometimes it feelings like everything happens so fast, doesn’t it?”

“yeah. you get it.”

it always felt like this talking to him. like he always understood you and what you were saying every time you talked. you always joked that you understood him on a spiritual level, but at some point, you started to actually mean it. you felt like you both understood each other like no one else could.

you were happy, for the time being at least. the apartment was doing okay at least, you had your best friend eun-yu, and now you had your newly titled boyfriend, cha hyun-su by your side.

[vdlest]

Home Sweet Home

Characters:

Eddie Diaz x Female!Reader

Summary:

The reader and Eddie are living in together with Christopher. You just got home and saw Eddie sleeping in the couch, waiting for you.

Nothing but fluff and sweet conversations

A/N:

I haven’t written anything in a while. Let’s see if I still have it lol!

It’s been a long day for you.

You finished a lot of works today and all you wanted is to crash into the bed and have the best sleep you can get before another long day tomorrow.

You went inside the house and upon opening the light, you saw Eddie lying on the couch, peacefully sleeping.

A smile immediately formed in your lips.

You put down your keys and your bag by the rocking chair and you approached your sleeping boyfriend.

It’s been 2 years since you two met.

There was a huge fire that took place in the hotel you used to work at. You got trapped in one of the guest's rooms because you were trying to rescue one of the guests too. Good thing the firefighters from 118 came to rescue you, and it was Eddie who saved you when you were almost hit by a falling debris.

You owe your life to Eddie.

If it weren't for him, you wouldn't be where you are today.

A few days after the fire, he checked up on you to see you're okay and that you're not experiencing any trauma. Then he went back again after a week, not to just check on you but to get your number. Since the day he got your number, the two of you are constantly exchanging messages.

Until one day, he finally asked you out, and the rest was history.

"Hey," you gently caressed his cheeks to wake him up.

His eyes slowly flicker and when he saw you, he got up and sat down on the couch, "I fell asleep while I was waiting for you."

You sat down beside him, "Yeah, I noticed that."

"You worked pretty late today," he said as he stretched his arms.

"We had a lot of issues today with our upcoming group, so I had to stay and negotiate with them. Good thing I'm finally home," you answered.

He wrapped his arms around you and hugged you as warm as he could make you feel, "Yeah, you're home. Chris was actually waiting for you too, but I guess he fell asleep." You felt Eddie kissed your head, "I guess I'm not the only one who misses you."

"Aww, I miss you and Chris too,” you answered as you rest your hand on top of his chest.

This is what made you so excited to come home — to feel secured and happy in the arms of your boyfriend. Ever since you two moved in together, you stopped experiencing nightmares that you’ve been experiencing since you were a kid. And every single time you wake up in the morning, your heart is filled with so much love just by seeing Eddie and Chris.

“By the way,” Eddie faces you but his arms are still wrapped around you, “It’s my off this weekend. I’m planning to take you and Christopher out.”

“That sounds like a nice plan to me,” you answered with a smile on your face.

“Are you sure you’re okay to go out with us? I’m worried you might have to work this weekend, given the circumstances you’re dealing with right now,” he said.

You cupped his right cheeks and assured him that it’s totally okay, “I’m off this weekend too anyways. Plus, I’ve been wanting to go out with you and Chris. I can’t even remember the last time we went out, just the three of us.”

“How ‘bout on Monday?”

“On Monday?” your brows furrowed in confusion, “Chris has school, right?”

“Yeah, but I’m talking about just the two of us,” he said. “I mean, the three of us are already going out this weekend, so I’m wondering if we can have Monday just for the two of us. Like, after we drop Christopher off his school, we can go somewhere, then we’ll pick him up in the afternoon afterwards.”

“I mean, I can take a day off on Monday too, but are you sure you want to go out on Monday? Just the two of us?” you asked.

He grabbed your hand and smiles at you, “Why not? It’s only fair to have some quality time for both of us, right?”

In all honesty, you are excited for some quality time with Eddie.

It’s been a long time since the two of you dated, because the two of you will always think of Christopher first. After all, you promised to each other that Christopher will be part and the top priority of your relationship.

“Sure,” you replied. “So where are you taking me?”

He winked at you, “That’s for me to know and for you to find out.”

“God, you are so full of surprises!” you commented.

Your relationship with Eddie has been both a blessing and a gift. He’s been there with you, through the ups and downs of your life, through thick and thin, through turns and twists. It was like he completed the real meaning of “love” in your life. And there’s no other person you would rather take the risk of falling in love than him.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he suddenly asked you, not knowing that you’ve been staring at him.

You shook your head as you fix his hair and gave him a smile.

Well, you know your boyfriend too well. He’s not gonna take that as an answer, “Come on, tell me.”

“I just realized how damn lucky I am,” you confessed and you felt his hands on top of yours, “All my life I’ve been looking for someone who could finally understand me, who could love me and teach me to love myself even better. I’m so glad I finally found you.”

“No,” he kissed the back of your hand and gave you a reassuring smile, “I found my way to you. Right from the moment I saved you, my heart already knew you weren’t just a stranger that I needed to save. I had a hard time forgetting you, so I stopped trying to forget you instead, I accepted the truth that you are someone I won’t be forgetting.”

“I know I’m hard to forget,” you joked.

Eddie chuckles, “I have no plans of forgetting you,” he extended his arms around you and pulled you towards his chest, “You’re stuck with me, whether you like it or not.”

“I have no plans of resisting,” you answered.

[akirathedramaqueen]

Octavia's and Blitzø's potential relationship development

I believe that the show, despite Octavia openly hating Blitzø, gives us some hints that they have much more in common than it seems. I’ve noticed a couple of moments where Blitzø and Octavia are… pretty much in sync, if that makes sense.

Here are those moments I’ve noticed… maybe stretched in some places, but! Hear me out!

1. Here, they don’t hear each other, but both are repulsed by Stolas’s obnoxious language and express the same reaction. It’s funny that Stolas is the one calling them out.

[Blitzø]: WHAT [Octavia]: THE [Blitzø]: FUCK [Octavia]: DAD?! S1EP2, Loo Loo Land, 4:52

2. They also share a distaste for Stolas’s behavior throughout the episode, albeit in slightly different ways. In fact, this serves as a great demonstration of how deaf and blind Stolas is to obvious social cues at the beginning of the series—he doesn’t stop even when directly asked to do so on multiple occasions.

Blitzø is disgusted by Stolas’s awkward, overly sexual advances and demeaning language towards him and his work.

[Stolas]: You are so cute when you are serious! S1EP2, Loo Loo Land, 6:06

Octavia is taken aback by essentially the same. However, she blames both of them, understandably failing to recognize that Blitzø is just as uncomfortable as she is. From her perspective, Blitzø is a homewrecker who contributed to destroying her parents' marriage.

[Stolas]: You know, it's quite thrilling to see you on the job, Blitzy.[Blitzø]: Save it, bitch, I am working. [Octavia]: You both need to get a room. S1EP2, Loo Loo Land, 8:20

3. They share the hate for the same clown!

[Blitzø and Octavia]: I hate that fucking clown. S1EP2, Loo Loo Land, 8:50

4. They seem to have similar tastes in music! The song My World Is Burning Down Around Me, which Octavia plays to tune out Stella’s screaming, is also heard in Blitzø’s van when he comes to pick up Loona in the Queen Bee episode, although it’s only instrumental. Here, have a look. If, for some reason, the service with the timeframes isn’t working, I’ll also provide the timings in writing so you can check it yourself on YouTube.

Octavia turns on the song, and for a while, we can hear the lyrics before it fades into the background as the scene shifts to Stella yelling at Stolas and later to Stolas’s conversation with Octavia. S1EP2, Loo Loo Land, 2:52 - 3:50

The song’s instrumental version can be heard when Blitzø’s van arrives, and the background noise at Queen Bee’s club is different, so there’s no chance for misinterpretation. It is the music Blitzø’s was listening to. S1EP8, Queen Bee, 8:20 - 9:14

5. Haha, they freak out in the same way in the Seeing Stars episode! I know it’s probably just a stylistic choice to transition from Octavia’s initial experience with LA to Blitzø having to contact Stolas and explain what happened. However, I might be indulging in a bit of wishful thinking, suggesting that this similarity in their stress responses could have some deeper meaning.

S2EP2, Seeing Stars, 4:42

So-o... What am I trying to say with all these points I've made?

Like the kind of delulu who yells, "Ghostfuckers, save us!" (we know Viv, we know how trying to put our hopes up ends, haha), I draw a complete unhinged card and I am going to make a very bold claim:

I think that once Stolas and Blitzø finally get their shit and themselves back together, and Octavia realizes there’s much more to the story than, “Oh, it’s just horny dad cheated on my mum with a red lizard dickhead and my dad ruined my family,” Octavia could actually bond with Blitzø quite nicely, and he would make a good second dad to her! Well, don’t get me wrong. She might never want to take it to that level. Also, we don’t know how things will turn out, nor do we know her relationship with her mum, Stella.

But I do believe that their parallels were thrown in for a reason. Despite the circumstances, they can, and maybe will, be on much better terms than they currently are.

Go on, call me delusional and leave me be in my complete denial corner. <3 I admit I do tend to forget the current state of the Stolitz relationship in the series, as in my world, where I’m prioritizing my time working on that fic, they are finally together. I am bitter-sweetly excited that @tealvenetianmask and I are slowly but surely getting close to finishing it. :)

(Yes, yes, it was shameless self-promotion—sue me for the unlawful use of a speculatory-analytical post space to promote our version of Stolitz working hard to sort out their issues post Apology Tour and having some silly and horny fun along the way.)

[obsessive-clown]

I hope I am not too late to ask for hcs. Can I please get hcs Yandere Nanami on how unhinged can he get when it comes to his darling

HI ANONYYYY. 🤭 I see you think like I do.

We like our men a little ✨wild✨. So allow me to feed you.

꧁❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎꧂

I believe Kento has a few rules set in place. Maybe not for you, his darling. But unspoken rules for other people.

1. LOOK, DON’T TOUCH -

‘Look, don’t touch’ is as obvious as it gets. People can look at you, but touching you? No. Kento can’t stand the thought of someone else touching you. If they touch you, clearly they want you in some fashion, right? And he certainly can’t have that. He loves you. And he most definitely loves you more than anyone else will. If the person that touched you, or god forbid, grabbed you, is a non-sorcerer, Kento has a chat with them. Which likely ends with the person losing their hands. Or arms. He doesn’t want to hurt the people, it’s not like they know the rule(s), but he can’t have what’s his become tainted.

2. STRANGER DANGER! -

Don’t know ‘em? Don’t talk to ‘em. It’s so silly to hear, especially if you’re older than a foolish child… But it’s a rule that works to Kento. Strangers talking to you makes his skin crawl. What the hell could they be talking to you about anyways? He wants you to be happy, he’ll let you have a little socialization with his friends. Friends that he know won’t make advances on you. But even then, he wants to be there for those little chats. If a stranger makes you uncomfortable with their conversation, he’s waiting until you’re back home to track the person down. And the next thing you know, there’s a body being found with its teeth, jaw and tongue missing, being reported on the news.

3. FRIENDS DON’T DO THAT! -

Obviously, for you, you don’t get to contact your friends. Kento simply cannot risk losing you. But his friends? Yes, maybe, when you’re calm enough to go out with him. However… Some of his friends can be a threat to your ‘relationship’. In Kento’s deluded mind, that is. Even the ‘Strongest Sorcerer’ isn’t excused from Kento’s anger or from repercussions. Kento will go absolutely out of his way to keep you. And that’s what makes him dangerous. If Satoru were to ‘threaten the relationship’ in Kento’s mind, there’s a special box he’d gladly help his white haired friend into. He would go as far as to find out weaknesses his friends or acquaintances have, just to be able to use them if he gets angry over how they act towards you. He can’t lose you. He can’t go back to the place he was at before he had you with him. He cannot bare the thought of it. So, he’ll take the risk of practically burning the damn world down, just to keep you safe with him.

꧁❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎꧂

I apologize for getting to this oh so late, but I was struggling this summer… either way, I’m glad to have finally got this out and I hope some of, if not all of you, enjoy it.

Also, I apologize for only thinking of three rules, but hey, it’s better than none!

[lunajay33]

Both❤️‍🔥Part.2

Summary: There was just something about you that Rick and Daryl couldn’t deny, after your time with both of them and experiencing Daryl, Rick couldn’t wait anymore for his turn with you

•Masterlist• Part.1

It’s been a week since my first time with Rick and Daryl, i was sore for a little bit after but i was all good now and I really started craving them again but especially what being with Rick would be like but how do I ask for that again, maybe I could try and hint at it

Getting ready for the day I pulled on a pair of really short shorts I found out on a scavenge and a tight top showing my lower belly

I gained as much confidence as I could and walked out of my cell going outside to the field where the guys usually were working, but when I got outside they were talking by Daryl’s bike, I walked over stopping their conversation when they noticed me

“Hey guys” I said leaning on the front of the bike, they looked me up and down and god did it turn me on

“Hey baby, whatcha got on, pretty lil” Daryl said looking directly at your boobs

“What you don’t like it?” I asked fake whining

“No darlin, quite the opposite” Rick said running his hand up and down my waist

“Mmm good” I said as I moved around the bike and sat on it right infront of where Daryl was sitting, being basically ontop of his lap

“Always wanted to ride this” I said biting my lip

“What the bike or me?” Daryl asked squeezing my hips

“Both” I said as they laughed

“You know I still haven’t had my turn with you darlin” Rick said running his thumb over my bottom lip

“Maybe you should meet me in the guard tower later after our work, both of you” I said as I got of the bike, kissing both of them before walking off to help around the prison

“Damn what a woman” Daryl said to Rick

“You got that right”

After a long hot day of work and thinking about Daryl and Rick doing unspeakable things to me it was finally time to head to the guard tower

I had caught Daryl and Rick glancing at me throughout the day, and it made me smirk the way they’d look everytime I’d bend over, but I’d wasn’t innocent I checked them out too, seeing them lift anything as their arms would flex and the sweat would make them glisten it was mouth watering

Once I got into the top of the tower I pulled out this amazing perfume Maggie found for me hoping they’d like it, hoping to drive them even more wild for me

I did get a little nervous waiting for them but when that door opened and I saw them again I was ready but this was still only my second time, hopefully they could take the lead again

“Have ya been waitin long peach?” Daryl asked wrapping his arms around me going right into kissing my neck groaning when he smelt me

“Damn Rick she smells so good” he said leading me over to Rick who was already stripped except for his boxers, waiting in the mattress

He laid you on the mattress digging his head against my neck breathing me in and Daryl started pulling of my shorts

“Fuck, you’re intoxicating darlin” Rick pulled back eyeing my shirt

“Please…take it off” I whined

He took it in both his hands and ripped it off making me moan at the pressure

“What a pretty lil thing, matching panties and bra again, ya know red drives us wild” Daryl said as he played with the hem of my panties tracing the little bow and Rick started to massage my boobs over my bra

“Found ‘em, thought you guys would like it” I said grinding my hips up for Daryl to touch me

“Oh we like it darlin”

I felt something wet through my panties realizing Daryl was eating me out over my panties and it felt so much better than I thought, his lips sucking in my clit, groaning sending tingles through me, as Rick unclipped my bra and throwing them

Rick leaned in give me a sloppy make out, flicking my nipples as I slipped my hand in his boxer and took him in my hand running my hand up and down squeezing tighter around his tip, feeling his pre cum on my fingers

“You’re such a good girl, so good for us” Rick said between kisses spit all over our mouths and chin but it was so hot

I felt Daryl pull my panties to the side and the feeling of his mouth on my bare pussy was mind blowing but when he added two fingers curling them inside made me scream

“Ya feel good baby?” Daryl asked before diving right back in, I took a fist full of his hair and held him closer not caring that he needed air I needed more

“So good, fuck Daryl” grinding against his face, feeling his scruff rub against the inside of my thighs

As I continued to rub Rick he moved down to suck my tits, gently biting down and that’s what pushed me over the edge, cumming all over Daryl but he kept going

“Daryl wait…..fuck!……it’s too much” I screamed feeling so sensitive and soon I was cunning again accidentally squeezing Rick to hard feeling him cum erupt on my hand

As we all came down trying to catch our breath Daryl sat back his mouth and chin slick and shiny and I pulled my hand out of Rick’s boxers admiring his cum all over my hand

“Fuck sunshine ya taste so damn good” Daryl said wiping his face

I stuck my fingers in my both sucking the cum off as I looked Rick in the eyes seeing that feral look, then I took them out sticking them in Rick’s mouth feeling his tongue swirl around my fingers sent tingles to my clit making me moan

“I want you Rick I’m ready” I said spreading my legs even further for him as Daryl quickly stripped down to nothing

Rick ripped off his boxers and pulled off my panties, gripping my hips and spinning me over and placing me on my hands and knees

“Gonna take you from the back darlin, fuck you got such a nice ass” he said as he smacked my ass making me moan out not realizing it would feel so good

Then I felt a hand on my chin making me look up and it was Daryl looking down at me as his dick was hard and dripping infront of me

“Ya gonna be good fer us again?” He asked

“Yes I’ll be so good just both of you fuck me” I whined feeling incredibly needy still

I felt Rick’s tip line up with my entrance and feeling that lovely stretch as he slowly pushed in till he bottomed out, my mouth hanging open from how deep he was

“God Rick so good, you’re so big” I squeaked out as he pushed up against my cervix, feeling him in my stomach

He started to fuck me slow until I was stretch then picking it up, I took Daryl in my both swirling my tongue around his tip tasting that salty cum, it was intoxicating I loved it he tasted so good I could blow him all night

As Rick hit me from the back it pushed me further onto Daryl having his dick slide down my throat and it just kept going and going, the pleasure of both of them and the lack of air had my head hazy and a little dizzy but it almost made it feel so much better, and when Rick reached around and started rubbing my clit vigorously I came so hard only seeing white for a minute

Rick pulled out and came all over my ass and Daryl came down my throat at the same time, when he pulled out he held me laying me down

“Man I think we fucked her so good she in a trance” Rick said as they looked down at me

“I’m still here” I laughed tired still feeling my pussy throb

“Such a good girl, can’t get enough of ya” Daryl said as they both pulled back on their boxers, too taking his shirt and putting it on me

They both laid on each side of my running their hands up and my body

“You okay sweetie?” Rick asked placing gently kissed on my lips

“I’m okay, felt so good, did you guys feel good?”

“You did great, so tight I almost came right away you feel so good”

“Ya ain’t gotta worry with us peach” Daryl said rubbing my hip

“I…..I love you guys” I said feeling a bit worried that this was just sex for them

“Love ya too baby”

“I love you sweetie, you’re not just a nice fuck to us”

This was the start of a very loving, very sexually giving relationship, obviously Lori wasn’t happy but screw her she had her chance and blew it now Rick and Daryl were all mine

Taglist: @deansapplepie @ang3lc @blackvelveteen1339 @eternalrose81 @crashlyrose

[spencer-sweets]

House MD Fic Recs | House/Wilson

[Part 1] [Part 2]

so... my first foray into this fandom after passively watching clips of it on youtube growing up. finally got around to watching it even though i have spoiled myself with all of the fan content i consumed before even finishing season 1. this is just some of my favorite fics i have compiled here. :) hope yall feel old knowing this show is older than me - and i can vote.

I'd Make A Deal With God (I'd Get Him to Swap Our Places) by TheFandomLesbian (ao3) Teen+ 11,357 Summary: When Wilson receives his terminal diagnosis, House flees to the hospital chapel. He doesn't know how to pray, but he strikes a deal: his soul for Wilson's life. When Wilson goes into remission, he has no choice but to uphold his end of the bargain. In which House learns nothing about God, but everything about worship, in the arms of his husband.

as someone who has a very complicated relationship with religion, this fic warmed my heart. the devotion from house in this fic to be able to put aside his own feelings towards religion in the small chance that he really does owe wilson's life to a higher power blew me away.

Riddle Me by magie_05 (LJ) R (I would say Teen+) 12,300 House loves puzzles. Wilson…doesn’t. When House starts asking his friend seemingly pointless questions that get progressively more confusing, Wilson’s left to wonder what (if anything) it means.

i loved the way they communicated in this fic and it was fun to try to figure out the riddles with wilson

fifteen minutes by eating_custardinbed (ao3) Mature 11,907 When James Wilson came to work this morning, he was expecting a normal day. That is, he has been expecting to tell a few people they were dying, getting bullied into buying his grumpy best friend lunch, maybe flirting with the new nurse in radiology to make him feel just a little better about his third divorce. What he has not been expecting is to be locked in his office with a madman, staring down the barrel of a gun. or, wilson gets shot and locked in his office. he and house have a conversation

oh, my beloved trope of one character thinking the other is about to die but not wanting to show how scared they are. hurt/comfort and wilson is hurt - right up my alley.

Defensive Strategies by m_butterfly (Wayback) NC-17 (Explicit) 14398 In which Wilson has a problem, House has a cunning plan, girls hunt in packs, chocolate cake has unexpected dangers, furniture is unintentionally ordered, several conversations occur, and dinner is repeatedly served.

this was a cute getting together fic that was funny and heavily recommended back in the say - at least from my sleuthing.

House-opathy Series: Diagnosis: Wilson, Patient Write Up: Cameron, Chase Foreman, Treatment: House by Commodoresexual (LJ) PG13 (Teen+) 14498 Wilson gets more than he bargained for when he lets the ducklings diagnose him - Cameron, Chase and Foreman delve into the healing process for Wilson - You can't always get what you want, but sometimes, you get what you need.

these were cute fics that were admittedly written prior to my conception. i enjoyed reading them - it follows the ducklings as they diagnose wilson with being in love with house and how the two get together.

Lost Causes by Eos (Wayback) PG13 (Teen+) 17164 An unguarded comment from Wilson proves to be quite unsettling for House's state of mind. Has three sequels, Same as It Ever Was, Reverse Psychology, and Foolish Hearts

this fic is older than me by almost half a month... that being said it can only be found in the deep recesses of the wayback machine. i enjoyed this fic and its sequels when i read them - it is mostly house coming to terms with his feelings for wilson following an accident in the first fic

Things That Go Bump by peg22 (ao3) Explicit 18,381 Wilson has nightmares. House gets a headache. Everyone tries to diagnose just what's going on between them. This story is set in Season 2, before House got shot, before the first ducklings left us, before Amber, before House/Cuddy . . . those halcyon days where House and Wilson were just . . . House and Wilson. Wilson is sleeping on House's sofa, after moving out from cancer patient, Grace. "Wilson just shook his head and limped back into the kitchen. He unloaded a sack of fresh produce. Good produce. Endives and garlic and tomatoes and asparagus. He moved on to the next sack. Beef. Good beef. Brisket and rump roast and ribeyes . . . he was halfway through the third sack of spices and imported cheeses, whistling and daydreaming about braised salmon with fresh asparagus when it hit him. He was being seduced. Through groceries. By groceries. By House through groceries. And he was falling for it. Hard. Lox, stock pot, and basil."

was actually reminded of this fic while digging through the recesses of old livejournal fic recs for house. i thought "hey wait.. wasn't that also on ao3?" it is! which saves you all the formatting of chapters that aren't linked and are spread across the original livejournal page it was uploaded on. but this fic is sweet and is a hurt/comfort nightmare fic done well. very dialogue heavy but very much in character.

R.I.C.E in Reverse by Phate Pheonix (FF.Net) Teen+ 22,000 An AU of 'The Greater Good' caused by a simple… twist. What if Wilson had discovered that Dana Miller was House's patient just an hour earlier? Cuddy won't know what hit her.

i remember this fic being longer than it was but i also remember really enjoying this fic. cuddy is a bit of a bitch in this but i don't find it to be bashing or anything - they (house & cuddy) are the same as they are in the show they just don't end up together like they do in the episode this is based on. also wilson coming to terms with his feelings for house. the writing is great and feels like it could be out of an episode of house.

buy some time, it's on my dime by ORiley42 (ao3) Explicit 27,034 Well, this took a longer time to write than I expected! Probably because it's five times longer than I intended lmao Wanted to try my hand at something more AU-ish. Though, because House is an ornery bastard and won’t do what I say at all, the setting is still broadly the same. The main difference being that House and Wilson have never met… I’d say this has season 1 vibes, but no actual timeline or plot refs. Also, AU idea sparked by I57371’s lovely “Phoning It In.” Also-also, title from "Nothing New" by Fly By Midnight.

this is not the only time you will see this author on this list - for good reason. i'm traditionally not one for au's or for strangers to lovers fics... but this one pulled it off. very smutty but the plot is still fun.

Witness, Witness by SkyeBean (ao3) Teen+ 29,111 It was past midnight when Wilson arrived, and House’s team had all left hours before. Cameron was the last to go, shooting House a pitying look as she pulled her coat on, but House had ignored her. A Wilson who’s been dating House for years doesn’t work at Princeton-Plainsboro. It takes House’s team years to find out that their boss is dating someone, let alone who, but they see more of the relationship than they know.

cute! what-if house and wilson did not work together but were together prior to season one. its a fun secret relationship fic.

Something to Prove by orphan_account (ao3) Teen+ 30,700 When House suddenly wants to initiate a relationship with Wilson, Wilson is overjoyed. The feelings he'd held for years are finally mutual. Or are they?

if you don't like angst this one isn't for you. house is kind of a massive dick in this one and spends the rest of the fic trying to make it up to wilson and win him over. has sequels that i did not read.

little glass vial by SupposedToBeWriting (ao3) Mature 39,093 House and Wilson have a peculiar friendship - though if you asked Wilson, sleeping together once while one man was reeling from a traumatic surgery slash breakup and the other was in a failing marriage isn't all that unusual between friends. They manage to make it work, mostly by never bringing it up again. While out, a patient's grieving brother approaches Wilson and injects him with an unknown compound. Wilson is rushed to the hospital. Though initially fine, he begins to exhibit strange and deadly symptoms. House is swept into a case that he cannot emotionally distance himself from, with a patient that he has exceptionally complex feelings for. Wilson clings to life as House hits brick wall after brick wall, desperate to save the one person he can't lose.

hurt/comfort with sick!wilson. Its also a case fic with a race against time that i enjoyed.

A Patient's Guide to Living with ICS by ORiley42 Explicit 40,071 House and Wilson share a hotel room at a medical conference. Read on for goofy acronyms, endless banter, horny middle-aged men, and more!

smutty work conference + friends with benefits to lovers fic. also!!! this author is generally just great with house fics.

A Modest Proposal by ignaz (ao3) Explicit 55,649 Tritter's case against House still depends on subpoenaed testimony from Wilson. To save House from losing everything, the doctors of PPTH decide on an unusual solution, which in turn leads to unexpected consequences. This is a story about the sacrifices we make that turn out not to be such great sacrifices after all. (Contains spoilers for everything up to and including "Merry Little Christmas.")

its on everyone's rec list - i know. but this is my rec list and i enjoyed it so its going on here. marriage of convenience trope my beloved. it has a sequel that everyone says is great but i haven't gotten around to it... yet.

Gaseous Nebula by TheFandomLesbian (ao3) Teen+ 77,372 After a hard day at work, House and Wilson intend to spend their evening watching the Princeton Philharmonic Orchestra. Instead, the building collapses, leaving one of them trapped in peril and the other desperate for answers. The chaos drives them to revelations about themselves and each other, but it may be too late.

another hurt/comfort fic that i absolutely adored. also, the second time this author is on the list! god i enjoyed reading this one - it had me on the edge of my seat despite how fantastical it is sometimes. felt like quality television surrealism with how bizarre some of the coincidences are but it tied everything together and had a happy ending.

there is a sequel but I have never read it and it is incomplete.

either love is a shrine (or else, a scar) by jamesevanwilson (ao3) Mature 79,985 House has a brilliant plan, and he needs Wilson's help. Wilson is a chronic enabler. Getting married for the fourth time should be relatively easy.

fake marriage in order to get money from house's dads will with a heafty dose of miscommunication and mutual pining between these morons.

It Will Find You in the End by junkyard_angel Mature 146,954 Gregory House is a misanthropic bastard with trust issues, who doesn't do feelings. But he's pretty sure he's in love -- or lust -- or something anyway -- with his best friend. Life is funny, in a not-funny way.  *UPDATE* -- Here's a link to the Spotify playlist of all songs referenced in this fic to date. Happy reading/listening! https://open.spotify.com/playlist/76B4n4UUncNYJG8scmKqVc?si=e5cd5de147924fb5 Thanks as always for reading, and feedback and comments are welcomed.

god this fic was long (not that thats a bad thing). they finally get together but then they also break up and then get back together so if angst isn't your cup of tea...

Here is a link to a great fic on ao3 with links to old house fic recs https://archiveofourown.org/works/16826263

I will update this as I read more/comb back through the LJ and FF.net archives that I slouthed through. I didn't keep track of most of those before i decided to make this list :/ sorry

originally posted 8/13/2024

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for asking my SO to do something that they have trauma around?

I don't know when this will be posted but as of writing we are about 2 weeks post valentines day. Ages and genders irrelevant, we're in our 20s and queer.

So I have not been with Jordan long, but we knew each out for a few months as friends before we got together, and have been close pretty much all of the time we've known each other. This is to say, I know them pretty well despite us not actually having been dating that long.

Because we were already friends I knew going into the relationship, without Jordan specifically saying anything, that they had plans on Valentines day. They got tickets to a concert I wasn't interested in a decent amount of time before we got together.

Obviously, not an issue in the slightest, and neither of us brought up anything regarding Valentines day. It was a week day, so I was working all day, and then the time of the concert meant there was no possibility of meeting up after, just not meant to be this year. I thought we were in the same boat just silently agreeing that the timing wasn't right but that it wasn't a big enough deal to even be worth bringing up, especially in such a new relationship.

Some backstory on me: I'm a hopeless romantic and have a kind of cute aesthetic? I like dressing in bright colours, and some of my favourite outfits have prints of hearts, flowers, and cherries. Needless to say I really enjoy the aesthetic of Valentines day, and I've always kind of fantasised about being able to spend it with someone I have romantic feelings for. I've only had two romantic relationships before this and the first one only lasted 6 months and didn't make it to Valentines day, and in the second we both contracted the same bug and were horribly sick throughout February.

Obviously I don't think you should only do things for your SO on Valentines day, but I think it would be fun to have the chance to really get into it! In the past I've organised Valentines day events with my other single friends where we dress in pink and have heart shaped foods etc and those have been great, but haven't quite satisfied my desire to have a Romantic Valentines.

So, despite the fact that my SO was busy, I wanted to do a little something. I do digital art, so when I got home from work I drew a pun Valentines card featuring Jordan's favourite character. It took a few hours and I was pretty proud of how it came out. I knew they were at the concert still, but I texted it to them, so they could see it after.

They responded that night and their first message was just "oh." I've known Jordan long enough that i read the tone to be "oh, now I to have a conversation I didn't want to have." They went on to explain that they associate Valentines day with some past trauma. I won't give any details here, but the tone of the conversation was that they don't celebrate Valentines day because of their trauma, and this seemed like a very final stance.

Now. I don't think I'm TA for drawing the art and sending it, this had never been brought up before, so I didn't know I was crossing a boundary.

I do think Jordan is slightly TA for not saying anything about my art that I worked hard on, but only slightly bc I assume the trauma response just kind of took over.

But my question is, WIBTA if I asked my SO to celebrate Valentines day with me in future even though it's something they have trauma around?

I'm not planning to force them or anything and it doesn't even have to be in the next few years, but thinking long term it feels really gloomy to me to have to miss out on Valentines forever when my SO could be making new memories with me so that mentions of the holiday are less painful.

I don't expect them to just "get over" it magically or anything but I want to ask if it's something they'd possibly want to work up to? I swear I'm not trying to be dismissive their response is fully valid and I don't want to imply my silly fantasies are more important than their traumatic reality I just want to know if this would be an asshole move or not.

What are these acronyms?

[glassartpeasants]

Run Rabbit Run .10

Yandere!Eustass Kid x F!Reader

Warnings: Death, blood mentions, physical abuse, violence, implied non-con, slight non-con, not edited for shit cause it took too long to type in general

A/N: This part is all in the eyes of Kidd so enjoy. I'm so happy for this shit to be finally published cause it took me too fucking long to do. Also working on new writing styles cause i need to be a perfectionist

music playlist

pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6 pt.7 pt.8 pt.9 pt.10 pt.11

~~~

“Look at them run! This is gonna be a fun island to ransack.”

“We should find the mayor and ask him where he keeps the town's treasury.”

“Good thinking, Killer.”

Even with the conversation so short, it spoke volumes as the Victoria Punk docks on the island. The beautiful blue skies shone down on the new and upcoming worst-generation supernova. With only a few months under his belt, his name was still feared throughout the south blue. His bounty getting higher and higher with every new poster.

He has yet to lose to any marine or pirate ship. Every battle he wins only makes him all the more feared, and his crew is just as terrifying as himself. Being known for his bloodthirsty ways, people would usually give him their prized possessions just to make sure they stayed clear of his wraith. But even then, sometimes, it wasn’t enough.

“This island is smaller than I thought, but it’s still mostly populated. More people, more treasure.”

“I haven’t seen any marines since we’ve docked, no boats or anything. Do you think this island isn’t under the eye of the world government?”

“Don’t matter to me. If marines try to stop me, I’ll just crush them.” The sinister chuckle that left the man’s lips made even the strongest marine tremble. Now, with a rushing set of footsteps coming towards him, Kidd continues to smirk.

A man about his own age was running full speed at him. A look of rage crossed his features as he clutched a knife tightly in his hands. Compared to himself, the man was nothing more than a twig. No muscle or anything to back him up with the fight he was looking for.

“Oh, this outta be fun.”

“Damn pirates! Leave our island alone!” The man lifts his arm to strike the notorious captain, only to be stopped by a suffocating grip. Without a second thought, Kidd’s hand gripped the scrawny man’s neck as he lifted him up. The man drops the knife to try and pry off the hand, squeezing his throat.

“How pathetic! A string bean like you thinks he can tell me what to do?” Kidd squeezes the man's throat harder and lifts him so they're eye to eye.

“News flash, I don’t like when people tell me what to do. I’ll show you what happens to people who do.” Clawing at Kidd’s hand, the man begins to see black in his vision as he starts to gasp.

“Please let my son go! He’s the only family I have!” An old man shows up hobbling fast towards Kidd and his crew. A cane in his left hand as he struggles to stay up. 

“I don’t feel like it. Little fucker thinks he can try to attack me. Yet he didn’t even land a hit like the pathetic little thing he is.” Kidd laughs at the old man’s worried expression.

“I’ll do anything! Just please let my son go!” The old man gets on his hands and knees, begging the ruthless pirate for mercy. 

“Bring me your mayor, and I’ll think about it.”

“I am the mayor! I promise, Captain Kidd, as I have the key to City Hall and everything!” The old man pulls out a key from his pants and lifts it towards Kidd.

“Well, would you look at that? How convenient. I didn’t even have to waste time searching.” Using his devil fruit powers, Kidd gravitates the key to his open hand. Looking at the key in his hand, he looks to his friend.

“What ya think, Killer? Should I let the small fry go?”

“Might as well. We have the mayor right here.”

“Looks like it’s your lucky day. Now scram before I change my mind.” The man is dropped with a thud. Holding his throat, he coughs harshly, with tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. Air finally returns to his lungs.

“Run home, son. Everything will be fine! Just go home.”

“But father-”

“Go home!” Despite his pleas, the scrawny man follows his father's orders. His throat bruised as he struggles to walk. His head spinning as the lack of oxygen has taken its toll. A crippling fear plagues the son as he walks home with unstable legs. The safety of his father was all he could think about.

“Now that that little nuisance is out of the way, we can finally get what we came here for.” Turning his attention to the old man, Kidd looks down at him.

“You either give us all the treasure this town has in its treasury, or I go back and break your son's scrawny little neck.” The mayor looks in horror at the man before him.

“I can’t! We’ve been saving it to build a marine base on the island! It’s taken us years to save up that money!” Kidd only laughs in the old man’s face.

“Too bad, old man! Now, you either give us all the treasure this shit town has to offer, or you’ll see its ashes fall from the sky!”

“But! The people need that for-” Not letting the old man finish, Kidd kicked him backwards. His fragile body hits the ground and is knocked out cold.

“Wrong answer, old fool! Burn it down and take everything! Leave no stone unturned!” Kidd watched his crew scatter before starting to break into businesses, houses, and other structures. Glass shattering, and the newfound screams sounded like music to his ears.

“Heat!” Calling out to his crew, he watches the bluenette approach him.

“Yeah Captain?”

“I want you to go kill that brat while burning down buildings.”

“Sounds good.”

Turning around laughing, Kidd’s amber eyes catch the glance of a woman hiding behind a building. Her face full of fear as she shook in her place.  From where she stood, Kidd could see the way the light shone down on her. It gave her an almost angelic glow. For some reason, it ignited something inside him. Something that told him to ruin her. To rip off that halo and wings while he fucked her down to the second circle of hell. The image made him laugh as he began to move in her direction. Himmoving in the woman’s direction caused her to finally flee.

“Cat and mouse, aye?” Kidd snickers as he beckons the woman back; any metal she was wearing would drag her right back to him. He watches her stop in her tracks before being pulled back to him at full speed. Her shrieks of terror cause him to lick his lips.

The woman’s back collided with Kidd’s chest as he grabbed her wirst in an iron grip.

“Where do you think you're going?” The woman looked up at him, and he smiled at her. He watched her tremble in place.

“Y-Your Eustass Kidd…”

“Damn right. What? You afraid?” The way she uttered his name made the fire inside him only burn brighter. A delicate little thing like her screaming out his name as he left bruises on her skin had his mind running with wild thoughts.

“Please! Just let me go! I’ll give you all the money I have. Just please let me go!” He watched in amusement as the woman tried to twist and turn out of his grip. The hope dying in her eyes felt like an addictive drug. While taking in the woman's fear, he noticed a ring adorning her finger and a metal circle on your left wrist.

“Now, why would I let something I caught fair and square go?” Finally pulling her left arm closer to his view, he finds that the circle of metal adorning her wrist was, in fact, supposed to be a bracelet. A very shitty stainless steel bracelet that he could have easily made with his eyes closed. 

“Your shitty stainless steel bracelet betrayed you, princess.” The nickname fell off his tongue so smoothly that it was almost like honey. He could feel his heart quicken at the little nickname that he decided there and then.

“My fiance worked hard to make it for me!”

“Don’t make me laugh! This is the shittest piece of jewelry I’ve ever seen!” How horribly it was made felt like an insult to him. He swore a baby could make one better. Using his power, Kidd manages to contort the ugly bracelet off the woman's wrist. He brought it closer to his face just to look at it once more, and that’s when he saw the flaw in the metal. He sees the woman reach for it but simply lifts it up out of her reach to inspect it more.

“Give it back!”

“It’s ain’t even pure stainless steel. Pathetic. Not even detailed, just a circle of metal." Using his devil fruit, he crushes the bracelet into the form of a ball. Small enough to be a bullet.

“Repel.” A laugh escapes him as he watches the small ball shoot into a store window. It shatters the entire thing and breaks something inside. Now, turning back to the woman, he smirks.

“Now, c’mon. You’re coming with me.” The woman's nails dig into Kidd’s hand. Her desperate attempt at freedom only made his lust for her grow.

“Don’t make this harder than it has to be, princess. I’m not a very patient person.” The woman's mouth opens to say something, but a loud voice pulls his attention away.

“(Y/N)! Get your hands off of her, you filithy pirate!” So that was your name? It felt fitting for a little thing like yourself. A lovely little princess like you with such an angelic name.

Looking at the person in front of him, he sees a ring adorning their left hand. It added up to the fact that this must be your fiance. AN annoyed look plastered on Kidd’s face as he realized that what should have been a quick thing was now actually gonna be a pain in his ass. Looking the fiance up and down, Kidd knew that they stood no chance against him. A single punch could take them down, no doubt.

“Is this your pathetic fiance? Ugh, I don’t have time to deal with you. I’ve got to take this treasure I found back to the ship.”

“(Y/N)’s not going anywhere with you! Let her go pirate!” Rage filled Kidd as another small fry thinks they can tell him what to do.

“Run (....)! He’s going to kill you!” Kidd let go of your wrist for a second, only to wrap his arm around your torso. He pulled you close to his chest as he trapped your arms to your sides with his strong grip. While he’d love to turn your pathetic fiance into a bloody puddle, he just couldn’t wait to bring you back to the Victoria Punk for safekeeping.

“Killer!” Not even seconds pass before his best friend shows up next to him.

“Yeah, Kidd?”

“I need you to kill them. Little shit thinks they can tell me what I can and can’t do.” He watches his buddy look down at the horrified woman in his arms.

“Who’s she?”

“My new plaything, cutie, ain’t she?” Kidd laughs as he holds onto you tighter. Your smell was intoxicating with how close you were to him.

“No! Leave them alone!”

“Alright, let’s go.” Kidd turns around just in time so you don’t see Killer murdering your fiance. But the screams could still be heard. He looks down and sees tears slipping down your cheeks as you weep in his grasp. The pathetic fiance felt like a worthless thing to cry about, in his personal opinion. But seeing your tears had his pants growing tighter.

“What a pretty sight, don’t you think?” The look of horror on your face as you watched your town burn to the ground made Kidd feel like we were on cloud nine. He just knew that the little angel he plucked from gods hand would surely be a fuck to experience. 

~~~

“Oi Kidd.”

“What is it Killer?” Watching his friend approach him, Kidd simply took a hard drink of the alcohol in his hand. His eyes scanned the bar as he watched multiple women look at him with less-than-holy intentions.

“Do you want me to go unlock that chick on the ship now? She’s been on the ship since we took her from that island a week ago? Plus, you're at the bar getting plastered and beckoning other women over.” 

“Nah. Keep her there a little longer. Plus, where would she go? It’s not like she has a home to go back to. I could honestly keep her as long as I want!” Laughing, Kidd took another swing of his drink. Having a personal fleshlight aboard the ship at all times was an opportunity only a fool would pass up.

“If you say so.”

“Come get a drink, Killer! Unwind and enjoy the lack of Marines!” Chugging down the alcohol, Kidd slammed down the empty glass on the table. His eye scanned the room, and despite the multiple women that occupied the bar, none gave him that rush that you did when he first saw you. While there were women who looked at him with lust, the fear that was in your eyes made more of an impact on his sexual desires.

Sure, he’s taken women to the Victoria Punk, but they're always gone before sunrise. No woman he’s brought to bed has ever spent a full day on the ship. Until you came along. You’ve spent a full week under the deck of the Victoria with only him and Killer knowing. And it’ll stay that way if he could help it. Having a secret little place to relieve his stress and get his fill sounded perfect for when he was stuck on the seas without a bar to be seen.

A little wingless angel stuck in the dark.

~~~

Stumbling along the hallways, Kidd can’t help but chuckle as he makes his way to your room. He’s been drinking till the early before a sudden lust flooded his body. The image of you laying beneath him was too stong to ignore. He wanted to hear your cries and moans. Wanted to feel your nails dig into his skin and cause him too bleed. 

When he opened the door that kept you locked away, he saw you sleeping peacefully. Your face content as you lay on the tattered blankets that used to hold prisioners. The light giving him just enough to walk towards a crate to light up a lantern. Once he closed and locked the door again, the lantern was now the only sorce of light. 

He stumbled over to where your head lay before sitting down. The vibrations caused you to stir, yet you refused to awaken fully. It caused a scowl to appear on Kidd’s painted lips before he tugged on a strand of your hair. The shock of your hair being tugged made your hand go to soothe the throb that followed suit.

Rubbing your eyes, you look up.”Kidd? W-Why are you here? It’s late.” Your confusion was clear in your voice, but Kidd paid no mind.

“Mmm…gonna fuck ya. Wanna hear my princess cry out my name.” Slurring his speech, Kidd laughs as he grabs your wrist and drags you up to him. The chain attached to your ankle rattled as he had you face to face.

The fear that still swirled in your eyes got him drunker than any alcohol could ever do. Your soft skin against his rough, calloused hands felt as if he were touching something sacred.

Grabbing your chin, he pulls you in for a kiss. He could feel you try to pull away, but you were no match for his strength, and he loved that. How weak you were compared to him had his already hard cock throbbing. You were the defenseless little princess who relied on him for everything.

The kiss only got deeper as he spurred himself on in his head. He pushed his tongue past your lips and groaned when he felt your own. Your taste was sweet as he explored your mouth. No matter how many times he’s kissed you, it always felt just as electric as it did the day he first kissed you. Your lips are so soft as they smudged his lipstick with how harshly he was kissing you.

Wrapping his hands around your wrists, he slammed you down on the ground before climbing on top of your body. His lips were still locked with yours as your scent overwhelmed him. It sent a fire hot sensation in his abdomen as he started to press closer to you.

Bringing both wrists above his head, he holds them both with one hand. With his other hand now free, he runs his fingertips underneath your shirt. He feels you shiver against his touch, and it causes one to go down his own spine.

Pulling his lips away from yours, a thick strand of saliva connected his mouth to yours. Hearing you gasp and pant for breath makes him slightly grip your wrists harder as he stares down at you. Your lips were swollen from his harsh kiss and sporting the lipstick that once adorned his own lips.

“K-Kidd, you're drunk. Perhaps you should just sleep. You don’t want a hangover, do you?” The nervousness and pleas that slipped past your lips went unheard by him. All he could see was his princess lying under him. Even though you tried to squirm and wiggle away, all Kidd felt was you rubbing against him. 

“Fuck.” Kidd whispers under his breath as he begins to rub his clothed cock against you. His face is right above yours as he feels your breath fanning against his face. Through his lidded eyes, Kidd can see your eyes are closed, and you're biting your bottom lip.

Moving both your wrists to one hand, Kidd uses his free one to grab your chin. “Fucking look at me. I want you to look at me while I fuck you.” Kidd can feel his heart double in speed when he’s met with your eyes staring at him intensely yet glassy.

Kidd groans out before licking his lips. Letting go of your chin, Kidd reaches down to unbuckle his pants. His eyes still strained on you and he can’t help but notice all the bites and bruises he’s adorned on your body since you’ve been here. It only makes Kidd’s need for you higher.

“What if we do this tomorrow?” Your words break through Kidd’s lust-clouded mind. ”You won’t even remember this since you're drunk, right? We can do it tomorrow!” Beads of sweat dropped from your forehead as you talked to Kidd. Obviously hoping that he might fall for the bait.

Kidd’s eyes stare at you before letting out a yawn. He didn’t say anything for a few seconds before getting up and moving away from your body. Only to grab it seconds later and drag you to lay on the tattered blankets. He fell on top of you, making you let out an ‘oof’.

The warmth your body excluded made made Kidd’s eyes grow heavy as he let out another yawn. Placing his head onto of your breasts, he allowed his drunken self just an hour or two to sleep before going back into his own quarters. No harm in a measly two hours. 

~~~

The sky filled with smoke as Kidd angrily desetroyed anything he deemed mocked him. Living or not, his anger was his own fault as ahe had no one to blame but himself. Ever since that drunken night he slept by your side, he’s never been able to sleep normally again.

Before he used to sleep all throughout the night but now. He’d wake up every two hours reaching out for someoen that wasn’t there. He’s never slept with someone all night. Or at all. But now that he’s gotten a taste of what it felt like to sleep next to someone, it wans’t something his body could sleep without. And it pissed him off.

Sure, he loved fucking you whenever he wanted, but now, it’s like he can’t go even an hour without thinking about you. Working in his workshop became a pain in the ass as he could be working on his crew’s weapons only to see your eyes staring at him in his imagination. How blown over they are when he fucks you or how you looked at him when he even enters a room.

He couldn’t even sleep with other women anymore cause his mind kept going to you! All there was was you. It pissed him off to the point he didn’t bother seeking you out of your company for a week and counting. A small part of him begged to go below deck to see the angel he stole from god. Yet the other him spoke curses on how you’ve affected him. It felt as if his head was splitting from the battle going on inside him.

“You're scowling more than usual. What’s wrong?” His friend's voice broke through his thoughts as he stood next to him. 

Running a hand through his hair, Kidd hisses. “It’s not something you can help with, so buzz off.”

“Is it about that girl below deck?”

“(Y/N).”

“Yeah her?”

“No.”

“Liar.” Snapping his head towards the masked man, Kidd glared at him. 

“Something obviously happened, so stop trying to act like nothing did.” Killer crossed his arms as he looked at his stubborn friend.

“She’s invading my mind like a damn disease! Can’t even go an hour without her popping up in my mind! Not to mention, I haven’t gotten a good night’s sleep in a month!”

“Can’t even fuck another whore without imagining it’s her! It’s pissing me off! Is this some sort of devil fruit?!” A snort comes from behind Killer’s mask, making Kidd madder.

“Jesus christ, your so stupid.”

“I’m not fucking stupid! If you know what's wrong with me, then spit it out!”

“It’s called falling in love, you idiot.”

Kidd’s eyes widened as he felt his heart stop. “No shot! That’s the biggest load of shit I’ve ever heard! I’m not falling in love.”

“Oh really? Well then, let her go, it’s been six months-”

“-No.”

“You're not in love with her, but you refuse to let her go?”

“Yes.”

“Alright, Kidd. Whatever you say.”

~~~

Bursting open the door, Kidd stomps through his room. His rage fills the small space as his heart beats harshly. Once again, a marine ship ruined his supply trip to an island. While normally he wouldn’t care and go on and fight, Killer advised against it. Kidd had a good amount of sake a few hours earlier and wouldn’t be on his A game if they took charge.

While Killer was right, Kidd was still upset that he wouldn’t be able to get supplies for his crew for another day till they reached the next island.  His crew had to go hungry for a day simply because of some annoying marines.

“God fucking damnit! Those fucking marines keep getting in my way!” Kidd’s eyes scan the room as he tries to find something to throw. When his eyes landed on a metal butterfly he made for you, he grabbed it off the dresser in a quick movement.

“Fuck!” Throwing it as hard as he could, he aimed for the bedroom door, which was already covered in marks from the other times he'd thrown knives at the door. The sound of a sucked-in breath makes him snap his head in your direction.

“What the fuck are you staring at?!” He watches you scoot away from him, and it only fuels his drunken rage. Who did you think you were to run away from him? To look at him with that face? Do you think it's funny when shit doesn't go his way?

His anger only heightened even more as he wrapped his hand around your foot. Digging his nails into your skin as he pulled you from him.

As soon as you were close enough to him, he grabbed your neck and lifted you into the air. “I said, what the fuck are you staring at?!” He watched you try to pry off his fingers off your neck. The small sting your nails brought only served to piss him off more.

“You're happy, aren’t you?! Do you think the Marines are going to catch me, and you’ll be free?! Is that it?!”

“I-I can’t breathe…Kidd please…” He watched as tears streamed down your face and onto his hand. The tear felt like a needle poking into his heart.

“Stupid bitch!” Stumbling over his own feet, Kidd chucks you against the wall. He watched you hit the wall and onto the floor with a loud ‘thud’ before what sounded like a crack whispered in his ears. He examines your body, not moving, and it causes a hard scowl on his face.

“Get up, damnit! I barely threw you!” Growling, Kidd wobbles over to your body before falling to his knees. His sight is blurry as his head seems to pound. When he slid his fingers through your hair, his brain failed to register the wet substance that coated his hand. He pulls on your hair so he can look you in the eyes.

“Fucking pathetic! Why do I even keep you around when you're so fucking useless?!” Your silence had Kidd’s drunken self slightly coherent.

“Hey! I’m talking to you! Don’t ignore me!” He grabs your face and, through his drunken haze, starts to see a red liquid drip down your face. A red handprint of blood was left on your cheek when he slightly moved his hand.

Your eyes fluttering shut made him sober up as the blood running down your face finally set in.

“Oi! Keep your eyes open!” Moving his hand in front of your face back and forth, his heart rate peaks when he finally watches your eyes fully close. Pulling your body close to his own, he grabs your shoulders and shakes you harder. Worry sets in as you don’t respond.

Picking you up to carry you, he hastly stumbles out of his room and makes a dash to the infirmary. The sound of his footsteps echoed through out the halls. His mouth goes dry as your lack of movement sobers him up to accurately find the room.

To his luck, Killer was already in the infirmary, counting on what they needed to restock.

“Killer, I fucked up.”

~~~

His eyes stared at the carved door as he laid his head on your chest. Your heartbeat pounding in his ears as he tried to ignore the small blood splatter on the floor that he forgot to clean up after the incident.

Your fingers running through his hair did little to calm the thoughts in his head. Even though he laid against you, he felt it wasn’t close enough. Close seemed to not be close enough.

Lifting his body up, he laid down next to you before he pulled you to his chest, you hair slightly tickling his skin. He wrapped his arms around you all the way to the point you wouldn’t be able to leave. Moving his legs, he tangled his limbs with yours. Only then did he feel you were close enough. Your scent a silent lullaby as he raced with thoughts. What if’s ran rampant.

‘What if I just took a nap instead?’

‘What if you got hurt even worse then i thought?’

‘What if you didn’t wake up?’

The thought of you no longer sharing his bed caused a panic to settle in Kidd’s stomach. Your warmth had become the only thing that allowed him to sleep peacefully. Hearing you breathe managed to be the only stress reliever that worked.

It was obvious to him now, that no matter what he might say, he couldn’t live without you.

~~~

The sound of the waves crashing against the beach felt like laughter as Kidd watched you sailing away on a ship he’d never seen before. His scream out to you echoed across the water only to come back to him, mocking him for being too late. Now, he got to watch the only thing that made him calm leave him.

The sand below him showed muddy footprints before being washed away by the ocean. Thunder and harsh rain poured down on Kidd, his hair sticking to his face as the rain pelted down his hair. Whether it was rain or tears that slid down his cheeks was anyone's guess. It felt as if time stopped while he tried to piece together what now?

His goal to find the one piece and become King of the Pirates still ran strong through his veins, but now it felt different. Not even days before this, he began to dream of when he’d finally be called King of the Pirates, when you’d be clinging to his arm and congratulating him, kissing him, and telling him you loved him. But now, that’s what it’d only be—a dream.

~~~

It’s been months since Kidd watched you sail away. Each night was plagued with that image of you sailing farther and farther away from him, every time only seconds late. Not a night went by where he didn’t wake up in a cold sweat. He’d reach out for you and be hit with the painful reminder that it was real—that you were gone.

Yet no matter where he went, it always felt like he saw you out of the corner of his eye. Or how sometimes he’d hear your voice in his ear. But when he turned to check it out, there was nothing. It felt as if he was going insane without you. And while there was intense longing, there was rage.

How dare you leave him? Don’t you know how much you meant to him? Hasn’t he shown he’s learned his lesson? He’s told you he loved you and you still left him. You have no one other then him, he made sure of it. Yet you still left.

Killer tried to tell him to get over you, that there were plenty of other fish in the sea, but he knew what he meant. He shouldn’t be shocked. You weren't even supposed to be with him for as long as you were. It was only a matter of time before the ‘relationship’ Kidd built with you would burn before his eyes. Even if he refused Killer’s words, any sane person would have agreed.

But now here he was, missing you with fury boiling inside him as he stared out over the crowd in the auction house. Privileged entitled assholes as far as the eye can see. All waiting for the show to begin.

~~~

Emotions pumped through his veins as he stared at himself in the mirror. A small splatter of blood on his cheek as all he could think about was you. How happy he was that you were back where you belonged. That after months of sleeplessness not knowing where you were, you were finally back in his arms. Whether you liked it or not wasn't something he cared to hear. He had you first. Those damn Straw Hats took you away, but now, you were back.

But you came back with a price.

Whatever happened in those months you were away changed you. All you did was fight and yell, scream and punch. Instead of the quiet angel he stole, a venomous fallen angel stood before him. But despite missing his fearful princess, the fight you put up managed to also have his blood pumping hotter. Watching you try to fight him only to lose gave him a high that only your fear could compare to.

Seeing your eyes widen in fear when he threatened to cut off your legs made a shiver of pleasure shoot up his spine. Even after you spit venom, he could not help but want you even more. Having you so close to him again made his body go haywire. Hearing you scream out in pain reminded him of when you screamed out his name in such a different, lustful tone. Watching tears stream down your face when he threw punch after punch had him resisting the urge to fuck you bloody and bruised. 

While the image was tempting, he had things to do, and he couldn’t let you think you got away with it. So he’d just send Killer down to patch you up after you’d been drenched in your own blood for a while. Maybe it’ll give you some time to contemplate. But if not, that’s okay.

He kinda liked that taste of your blood.

~~~

His heart couldn’t help but leap when he felt your lips running smoothly against his own, your warm skin glowing underneath his fingertips as you cupped his face. A calm washed over him at the small gesture. He pulled you closer and kissed you deeper, never wanting to let you go. But when he pulled away for a breath, he saw the stains of his lipstick on your face, the sight making him smile.

Kidd couldn’t help but feel the shiver that ran down his spine when he felt your breath against his neck. The rigid, cold metal of the collar on your neck had him silently sick in a breath.

“If you're gonna make me a new collar, can it be one I can sleep in?” When you mumbled those words into his skin, flashbacks from that fateful day rushed back to him. How you got out of your collar, so he obviously had to make a bigger and better one. And now you're trying to get a different one?

“Do you know why you're in that collar?” He looked down and was met with your pleading eyes.

“I ran away.” Kidd grits his teeth and digs his fingers into his hips harshly. Anger starts to surface at the memories.

“Yeah, you did. How can I trust you not to do it again, hmm? This collar makes my devil fruit powers work even better than the last one. So why should I give rewards to bad girls?”

“Can I do something to make it up to you?” The idea Killer shut down a week ago comes back to his mind. He’s done a few good studies to understand how it works, and it sounds pretty easy—easy and a perfect way to show everyone who you belong to.

“Take off your shirt.”

“W-What?”

“You heard me. Take it off.” Kidd watches you with heat pooling in his abdomen as he takes longing glimpses at your bare chest.

“Back to me.” He watches you listen and can’t help but run his fingers along your skin. Tracing your spine causes a shiver to run down his.

Getting up, he placed you down on the chair before tying you to it with a piece of metal. The sight makes him bite the inside of his cheek.

“H-Hey! What the hell!” Kidd only laughed before turning away from you. 

“You know, Killer originally talked me out of this, but since you wanted to be rewarded for bad behavior, I think it’ll go nicely with your new collar.” A rush of power surges through Kidd’s bones as he collects everything he needs.

“It’ll also show anybody who tries to take you away from me that you belong to me.” With his hands finally full, Kidd turns back to you. Your face goes rigid as he walks in your direction, which in turn makes you try to scoot away. Grabbing the side of the chair, he brings you back to him.

“Don’t worry, princess, I did my research.” A major rush of power flowed through Kidd's veins as he watched you struggle to escape.

“This is completely unreasonable! You can’t be serious!”

“You wanted to make it up to me? Well, here's your chance.” Kidd could see the panic in your eyes as he started to heat up the metal pole in his hands.

“There has to be something else, please, Kidd!” In a swift and rash motion, Kidd threw his hand towards you and felt your cheek collide with his knuckles.

“Be fucking grateful that I’m even giving you this chance! Those damn Straw Hats taught you that you can be a brat! I’m going to kill each one of those fuckers! I’ll do it in front of you so you can see what happens when you leave me!”

“You’ll never beat them! They’re gonna come for me and kick your ass!” Red clouded Kidd’s vision hearing your words. Grabbing your hair, he tugs it back so you face him. The tears in your eyes go ignored as Kidd’s grip on the metal pole tightens. He didn’t give you a second to speak before pushing the burning hot pole on your chest.

The scream you let out when the metal was fully pushed onto your skin swiped him out of his rage. The red that once blinded him was now gone as he quickly pulled away from you. He’d never heard something so ear-piercing and painful in his life. It echoed all throughout his workshop, and he felt a panic set in when he noticed he skipped a step in his rage and how you’ve now passed out.

“Shit! Shit! Oi, princess!” Grabbing your chin, his eyes studied your face to see any sign of consciousness, yet he was met with none. His heart rate spiked as he ripped away the metal he tied you with before carrying you bridal style. He rushed to the infirmary and cursed himself internally for not following all the steps as he tried to ignore the graphic third-degree burn on your chest.

~~~

All he could feel was numb, yet a pain that was indescribable when you moved his head to look at his arm. What once used to be a full limb was now nothing more than a stump. He could see his body covered in bandages as the memory of what happened came back to him. Words couldn’t seem to form as he felt his dreams crash down around him. 

“You should lay down and make sure everything heals properly.” Using the arm he had left, Kidd pulled you onto his lap. Burying his head into your scarred chest, it's then that he feels the tears on his own cheeks.

He doesn’t know how long it’s been since he’s cried like this, or if he’s ever cried like this. Crying so hard that he struggled to breathe and began to shake. It felt like the walls were closing in on him as he cried into your chest. All he could think of was how would he become King of the Pirates with one arm? It set him back so  much that he felt hopeless.

But when you wrapped your arms around him and slid your fingers through his hair, he pulled you closer despite his bandaged torso. The slight pain he felt was nothing compared to the pain he felt inside. 

“Just breathe, okay? In and out.” Following your command, Kidd tries to copy your breathing despite continuing to cry. Your now-soaked shirt rubbed against his face, and it only worsened the pain in his heart.

The small and gentle tune you began to hum made his hold tighter. He never wanted to let you go as you comforted him when he needed you the most.

~~~

Kidd sat on a chair next to you in the hospital bed as worry and fear took over him. His anger once again took charge and caused him to hurt you horrifically. Seeing you laying there with bandages covering your head caused a guilt he’s never felt before. He remembered the amount of blood you lost when he ran you to the hospital. It dripped from your head all the way to the hospital.

He managed to nab a doctor right away and have him work on you. Every second you were in the surgery room felt like hell. And what the doctor told him what the diagnosis was made Kidd’s heart clench.

“Since she fell off your ship, there's no doubt she has a sort of head/brain trauma. Long-lasting effects could stem from this injury. Here’s a list of some effects that you can read while I go grab another IV bag.”

Which is where Kidd sat now. Watching you breathe. Watching you breathe with the crumbled up list in hand. Your eyes closed as you sleep, unaware of the wreck he is. Grabbing your hand, Kidd brought it close to his lips and kissed your knuckles before holding it against his forehead.

Caressing your face, Kidd looks at you, sleeping peacefully. The moonlight shining off you gave you that same angelic glow he saw you with all those years ago. Despite the scars that covered your body, you were still so beautiful. Rubbing your cheek, Kidd looked down at you lovingly.

“I’m sorry, princess. You can pull through this. You have to.”

~~~

“This is how it should be, sleeping next to me.” With your legs tangled in his, Kidd scoots his body closer to yours before kissing your forehead. A wicked smile slithers along Kidd’s face.

“All those memories gone. No more talking about home. No more flinching, no more Straw Hats.”

“Those bastards, trying to play hero and stole you from me. Thinking your up for grabs when you obviously belong to me. Meant for me. You were meant to be mine and stay by my side. Why else would I have gotten a second chance?”

“Now, I’ll always have you. You look up at me with loving eyes instead of hatred. Instead of hitting me, you run up to hug me. You kiss me passionately like I’ll disappear any moment. I love it when you run up to me and jump so I can catch you. I love it when you sit next to me while I work in my workshop, giving me praise. If I had known you hit your head harder, I would have you in my arms willingly…”

“Then I would’ve thrown you against the wall harder.”

~~~

‘That selfish prick! After everything I’ve done to keep her in the dark, he comes around and fucks it up! Everything was going great! She loved me yet-’

“Fuck!” Slamming his metal hand against the bench in his workshop, Kidd begins to tear it apart. Weapons were thrown to unknown corners of the room, pieces of metal scattered across the floor, and a dent in the bench.

Kidd gritted his teeth as his whole body uncontrollably shook. The dried blood staining his hand only continued to serve his rage. Because even if Heat was already dead, the damage had been done.  The day of you holding him tight and kissing him was over. He’ll never be able to feel you close to him again. At least, not without a fight.

Hot tears began to stream down his face as he gripped the dented bench with an iron grip. His tears felt like an acid against his skin as his vision blurred. The smirk the bastard wore while he bled out behind you burned into Kidd’s memory.

Giving you a devil fruit, a logia type at that was infuriating. How the hell did he manage to get it on the boat and have you eat it? You were always by his side, so how could Heat have given it to you? The day of the fight? Or when he caught you and Heat talking to each other alone? How could he not see the signs earlier? Why did it take the busting open of your old cell door twice for him to finally understand what he needed to do?

Yet it was too late.

“God damnit.” Kidd swallowed the lump in his throat before letting out a sniffle. “This is bad. How am I gonna fix this? There’s gotta be a way-”

“Kidd.” The workshop door opens, and Killer stands in the doorway. Quickly wiping his tears, Kidd tries to regain steady breathing, hoping Killer doesn’t see his moment of weakness.

“What Killer?”

“You better have a good plan. Explain where Heat went and where (Y/N) went.” Kidd stays silent, which is all Killer needs.

“Did you-”

“I saw everything from the shadows. This could be a sign, you know?”

“What kind of fucking sign?”

“You know what kind of sign I’m talking about.” Silence covers the workshop.

“Maybe it’s time to let her-”

“No!” Kidd slams his metal hand on the bench with enough force to cause another dent.

“Well, what do you think you should do then?” Once again, the workshop goes silent.

“Giving you a week to decide for (Y/N). As for Heat, better pull something good out of your ass.” Just as soon as Killer entered, he left. Leaving Kidd to wallow in his predicament.

~~~

“Do you really think she’s on this island, Kidd? It’s been a week since the paper came out.”

“She will be on this island. If she isn’t, I’ll kill anyone I need to to figure out where she went. I don’t want a single civilian to go unquestioned. If they refuse to tell you, don’t be afraid to use violence.”

The bustling port of Haylard Island has Kidd’s eyes scanning every inch of movement. If you were on that dock, he wanted to make sure he saw you. There was no room for him to be making mistakes. He’s already made enough.

“Burn down buildings, steal supplies, and anything you think is worth something. Do not stop until the ashes block out the sun.”

“Yes, captain!” Hearing his own crew leave, Kidd finally let out a shaky inhale while looking down. The sea stared back at him, once again mocking him for losing you.

“Laugh all you want, but take my word. I’ll burn and kill my way back to her. And nothing will stop me until she’s in my arms.”

~~~

Despite the night once being full of cheers, the marine group of G-5 now found themselves fighting for their lives. What should have been a celebration was now a fight to the death as they were ambushed in the dark of the night. The once-empty sky was now covered in flaming arrows heading directly toward them.

“Everyone, man, your stations! We’re under attack, so get ready for a fight!” The captain's commands echo throughout the ship, and no one wastes a second. Running up and down the ship, Captain Tashigi checks to see if everything is in order to ensure supreme safety.

“Captain!” the sound of a terrified marine rings through her ears as she runs to the voice. Coming up from below the deck, she’s met with fire and smoke. It felt as if her heart was going to explode as all she could hear was marines yelling and the flickering of flames.

The flames only got higher as she tried to figure out what to do. Before she went below deck, they were able to contain the fires, but now, it’s almost consumed the entire deck. With how fast the flames were spreading, there was no doubt that the ship would be at the bottom of the sea before sunrise. 

Grabbing a transponder snail she kept in her pocket, she began to call the nearest marine base to help with the attack. She realized this wasn’t a battle they could fight on their own. 

“Hello! This is Captain Tashigi of G-5. We need backup right away! We’re under attack, and the ship is engrossed in flames!”

“G-5, this is (....)! We will send you back up right away! What are your locations, and can you see the attackers?”

“Our coordinates are (-------)! I don’t know, as the flames are so tall and the smoke is-” The whole ship shook as something hit the deck, causing Tashigi to drop the transponder snail and fall backward.

“-Oof!”

“Captain are you okay?”

“Something just hit the boat! I’m unaware of what it is!” Quickly getting back on her feet, Tashigi grabs her sword along with the transponder snail.

“I’m going to go check it out.”

“Keep us on the line.”

“Will do.” Putting the snail away for safekeeping, Tashigi grips her sword with both hands as she starts to walk carefully through the flames.

As soon as she stepped in, the sound of a marine screaming echoed across the deck. Panic set in the captain's stomach as her hands began to shake. The screams of pain and terror only caused more panic to set in. But she’s the captain. She has to be strong. She can’t back down.

“G-5, what’s going on?!” The screams of pain and agony continue before a loud audible SNAP rings in Tashigi’s ears. Assuming the worst, she feels all the color drain from her face.

And just like that, it was quiet.

“G-5?” With her voice trembling, Tashigi couldn’t help but be frozen in place.

“Tashigi.” Before she could scream, a rough, calloused hand covered her mouth. Looking in her peripheral vision, she saw Vice Admiral Smoker motioning her to shush. Nodding her head, Smoker lowered his hand.

“What’s going on, Vice Admiral?”

“Almost the entire deck has been engulfed in flames. We need to go to the other side of the ship.”

“But what about-”

“It’s silent over those flames, Tashigi.” With tears prickling in her eyes, she understands what he’s saying despite wishing it not to be true. Grabbing her hand, Smoker runs to the end of the ship, where there are fewer flames. Their footsteps echo, giving away their position to the attackers.

As she was running, Tashigi’s sword started vibrating before being completely pulled from her hands. She watched it fly backward and into the flames. A metal thunk rang across the deck, making her eyes widen. When she looked into the flames, she felt her heart stop.

Walking through the flames was no other than the man who had the whole new world in the palm of his hand.

“V-Vice Admiral…it’s-”

“Go hide, Tashigi. I’ll handle this.” Putting himself in front of her, Smoker points towards the darkness.

“But-”

“I’ll be fine. Go hide. Don’t come out until I come to get you.”

With a tremble in her voice, she responds. “Okay.”

Running into the darkness, Tashigi searches around with a racing heart, desperate to find a hiding spot. The sound of unintelligible yelling and metal clanking only makes her search more frantic. She should be fighting, but if Smoker says to hide…

“Killer! Go after the girl. She ran straight ahead.”

“You’ll have to get past me first. Both of you.”

“Vice Admiral.” Whispering to herself, Tashigi runs around some more before spotting an empty barrel. With no more time to spend, she jumps in.

As she gets as comfortable as she can, she puts the barrel lid over her head, leaving her in complete darkness. Her knees pressed against her chest as she struggles to take deep breaths. She tries to prevent herself from shivering.

‘This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening.’ She thinks to herself as tears slip down her cheeks. She knew the stakes there were to bring you to Sabaody, but they were so careful about not giving away. It was then taking care of you. How did Kidd figure out it was them?

A loud thud can be heard throughout the deck before silence. No words were spoken, and the fear was only intensified. Tashigi felt her throat grow dry as she started to hear boots shuffling along the deck.

Sounds of things being searched causes her heart to beat out of her chest. Her body begins to shake as she hears the boots walking towards her hiding spot. 

The moonlight soon shines down on her as the barrel's lid pops open. She looks up and sees no one. The moonlight shone down on her as she feared who had opened the lid, but she soon gets her answer.

“Found you.”

~~~

Haven't been able to draw for shit so no picture

@rebeccawinters @iggy5055 @dairygrrl @childconnoisseur @menifire1092 @nerdgeekandeverysweet-blog @tremendoushorsepatrolgoth @lovemesomefanfic846 @ryuv1i @carpinchootaku @misoxramen @pinkfoxmusic @mizzhellsingsstuff

[exaflux]

How good is BTAA Scarecrow at therapy really? (An analysis) (Part 1)

So I naively thought that this'd be a laugh. Take the unethical psychiatrist, analyse his techniques, highlight what he's doing in real world contexts and give him a rating. After hours of working on this though I unintentionally managed to construct a theory on how BTAA Jon might approach therapy. Oop.

This part contains- a breakdown of some psychological approaches in therapy settings, character analysis/theory of Jon (in the conclusion), Jon being awful

Disclaimer- I am not a trained psychologist or therapist or anything of the like. I did study the topic under a teacher who was a trained psychologist though, and I still very much like psychology, so that basically makes me an expert in this field. This is a joke. Do not take my word as gospel. This post was written for fun and will probably have a mistake somewhere.

Harvey and Two-face will be referred to seperately in this analysis, but if referring to both Harvey will be used as default. Jonathan is Jonathan.

A-Level psychology don't fail me now 🙏

Session one/"two"-

The following all takes place in S2, Episode 5

The first section of our analysis takes place on March 4th and the time is 2:02pm, surprising no one as Two-Face is present. Jonathan begins the session by setting up a recording and going through standard legal procedure, following the “Code of Medical Ethics” (0:15) of Gotham. He also makes note that the first tape was destroyed, again probably for legal reasons. Good start.

Being that it was Harvey that destroyed the last tape machine due to a mishap of it not being the first session and Harvey refusing to perceive the number one, Jon asks him to elaborate- “tell me more about that” (0:56). Asking for more info on something a client has said often shows interest, which helps with relationship building, and on the mental health professional’s end would help build an understanding of the client. It has been established at this point that the session is for “introductory psychoanalytic examinations” (0:24), so that latter point is especially important. Killing two birds with one stone, very efficient. Whether Jon actually shows interest towards Harvey’s fascination for the number two though is a completely different matter. 

In addition, throughout all this Jon also gives terse responses, “I see.” (00:49) (1:11), to Harvey’s statements to indicate he’s listening and doesn’t try to weigh in. One-sided conversation such as these allow the client to speak as much as they need to, the sessions are for them after all.  

So overall, Jonathan is being very professional so far. 

At 1:21 of the episode is when Jon finally decides to give his thoughts (after Harvey has finished talking) stating that "The best way for [him] to help [Harvey] is to establish a bond of trust between [them]” (1:26), something that Harvey agrees to. Truthfully, another thing that is important between client and mental health professional, so his approach isn’t wrong.

Upon Harvey agreeing to this, Jon promptly demands that he be given the coin, something Harvey doesn't want to do. At being told that he isn’t comfortable with that, Jon points out that "it's not up to [Harvey]" (1:46) and takes the coin anyway through it's infallible decision-making prowess and the full knowledge that Harvey relies on the coin for all his decision making. He successfully gets the coin, Harvey is unhappy, and trust is established. But not really because Jonathan didn’t respect Harvey’s personal feelings nor wishes. Which is a breach of ethics. Horrible decision really. Jon places the coin on the table, presumably in a place where both he and Harvey can see it, and he declares aloud that it's on the table. In any other context this might have actually been a good way to maintain trust while seperating an item of emotional importance from a client, but such actions should only be taken with the consent of said client. 🚨 JONATHAN IS BEING UNETHICAL HERE. 🚨

Afterwards Jonathan reopens the session, “We meet again for the very first time” (2:06) as though everything said and done previously never happened. He goes on to ask the pair to reintroduce themselves. He notably sounds more casual here and upon hearing that Two-Face is older asks “Harvey was here first, wasn’t he?” (2:21) in a tone that doesn’t sound genuinely surprised. The question was most likely asked as a method to fish for confirmation or another elaboration.  

He then moves on after Two-Face is done speaking, very obviously not caring about the reasoning given for Two-Face's origins, to say that he heard “a horror story” (2:58) referring to the courtroom incident. Despite Two-Face's response being a positive one, claiming “That day set me free, like it was in the beginning” (3:11), Jon instead believes that the incident “found [Two-Face] in [his] hiding place” (3:17) and that he was hiding because he was, and still is, “afraid of what [he] would do without Harvey” (3:27). Jon weighing in should have ideally been avoided here. Therapy is normally approached with a mentality akin to teaching a man to fish, where the point is to teach a client how to identify and analyse their own feelings.

Instead of stating why a client thinks/feels as they do, a mental health professional will tactically ask questions in an effort to get a client to reflect. Jon asks some of these questions- “Do you ever wonder what if that acid had taken more than half of your face that terrible day? [...] What if when the acid had done its business, there wasn’t enough of Harvey left to do the serious work?” (3:30) which, in a way, counts. There is still criticism to be had here though as wording can passively influence how a client thinks. Describing the day that Harvey went through his incident as being “terrible”? Probably made Harvey view a day considers favourably as something more negative. Likewise, stating that Harvey could have somehow been lost that day from the acid in all certainty no doubt might have instilled some sense of unease in Two-Face. You should avoid making clients uncomfortable. Bad therapy moment.❌And then Jon follows these questions to Harvey up with another explanation, "You won't let it [cross your mind] because it frightens you [...] the thought of being alone." (3:50).❌❌

“Let’s try something. Bear with me” (3:58) Jon says next, reaching for the acid he inexplicably keeps in his draw. Upon being asked what he’s going to be doing with it by one (two?) Two-Face, Jon retorts with his own question, “What are you afraid I’m going to do with it, hmm?” (4:18) before pissing around with the acid and wanting Harvey to “Tell [him] about the fear” (4:29). This is an example of Jonathan being unethical again. Remember gaining the consent of clients of a therapeutic activity you want to do together is of utmost importance. Likewise, then Jon clarifies that he thinks that Harvey is scared of the “other” (5:05) attribute he acquired that day that wasn’t just the acid damage. Believing that tapping into this fear would cause emotional distress, he proceeds to dunk Harvey’s coin into the acid, destroying it. 🚨JONATHAN IS BEING UNETHICAL AGAIN, DO NOT DELIBERATELY CAUSE MENTAL DISTRESS TO CLIENTS OR DESTROY THEIR PROPERTY. 🚨 According to Jonathan himself he considers his actions “aggressive intervention” (5:30), but Jonathan’s judgement for considering this necessary can be called into question. 

Finally, after everything is said and done and Harvey has in fact been reduced to “a puddle of quivering terror” (5:10) like Jon predicted, Jon is again back to asking Harvey questions about his feelings and acting like a good mental health professional. He even reassures Harvey that he understands! Creating an environment of understanding and lack of judgement is important in any therapy setting. And, further playing his role as a psychiatrist, Jonathan in all his understanding of Harvey’s inability to make decisions anymore prescribes him with meds of his own creation. He explains what the medication does positively, in fluffy terms rather than anything technical, and gets Harvey to take it. While Jonathan is allowed to prescribe medication like this being a psychiatrist rather than just a psychologist, the fact that he starts tooting his own horn about how good the meds are, neglecting to talk about the potential side effects, and then makes Harvey take them anyway is, again, unethical. Informed consent should always be taken from clients before prescribing and a therapy session is an inappropriate setting to advertise your products.

In conclusion:

Jonathan takes more Ls in this session of therapy than he has moments doing his job in the proper way, and his approaches to psychological methods indicate that he takes those Ls not from any amount of ignorance on his part but from a blatant disregard for the well-being of his clients. He plays nice and uses correct therapy techniques consistently only up until he establishes a "bond of trust" by removing Harvey's coin, despite Harvey's feelings. After, Jon can be observed descending more and more into ignoring basic therapy practices; providing his own viewpoints on events, outright stating why Harvey feels as he does, refusing to explain what he's planning to do, eventually getting to the point where he's talking more than the clients during the session. All this happens until Jon permanently rids Harvey of the coin for good, leading to an emotional breakdown in the clients and a subsequent administration of drugs.

If I didn't know any better I'd say that during these events, Jonathan goes from setting up the session like any mental health professional would to gradually steering the session into the direction he wants it to go. Even moreso if one regards how he brings up the court room incident of his own volition completely unprompted (2:50) which then leads that into bringing up the topic of fears. Which eventually leads to dropping the coin into acid... Now this idea is insidious enough as it is, right? I'm sure this Dr Jonathan Crane is a well meaning psychiatrist, I mean he's following Gotham's Code of Medical Ethics! So here's also a slightly different perspective to all this:

Jon is speedrunning therapy.

I mean think about it- not even two minutes into the session and Jon basically forces Harvey into "trusting" him. This is only the second time that they've had a session together mind and trust is a thing that often takes months or even years to form between a mental health professional and a client. The chosen method of building trust was to remove a valued item from Harvey and one that he relies on, again something that takes multiple sessions to build up to and- as had been stated- is a valid trust building technique. After taking the coin Jon still leaves it in a place where Harvey knows where it is, just like you'd expect in a therapy setting. Jon even asks the pair to introduce themselves before deliberately steering things into talking about the court room incident which is the nexus point for why Harvey relies on the coin as far as he's concerned. Even him outright telling Two-Face what his fears are could be interpreted as him not wanting to spend months doing the standard therapy approaches that aren't even a guarantee for any progress.

In fact, Jon doesn't even attempt to destroy the coin either until the following happens in order: he tells Two-Face he thinks the court room incident found him and he was hiding out of fear of what he'd do without Harvey, he then asks Two-Face if he's ever thought about what he'd do if Harvey was unable to do much of anything anymore, then outright tells Two-Face he's afraid of being alone before then saying "Let's try something" (3:54) as though he's about to demonstrate his point, forcing Two-Face to acknowledge it.

"I think we had a breakthrough" (5:36) indeed. Breakthroughs are when a client successfully identifies something about themselves, like where a thought or feeling or bad habit stems from. A client having a breakthrough is the point where therapy can progress. And, hey, Harvey probably did make a breakthrough from losing his coin, though it was forced. This breakthrough led to being given a special drug. Which is something to be explored in a later part.

Of course though none of this really matters. Therapy is about treating a person as a person and "teaching a man to fish". Apparently Jonathan doesn't care about fishing.

FINAL SCORE FOR THE SESSION:

🎊 3/10 🎊

Jon is definitely not lacking in skills when it comes to psychology or therapy techniques, in fact he seemed decent enough for the first chunk before the session metaphorically drove off a cliff through his driving- intentionally no less. He simply lacks regard for the feelings of his clients and is a walking ethics breach. Likewise he took deliberate control of the session, and whether the end result was intentional or not this is definitely not something to do in a therapy setting. His approach to "therapy" may lead to breakthroughs, making his clients recognise the things he identifies, but it's not in the true spirit of therapy. It's doubtful that a client under him would ever learn the techniques they need to overcome whatever things they might struggle with.

...And this isn't even getting into how much enjoyment he seems to get from making his clients uncomfortable.

[kenananamin]

Beside Each Other

Chapter 2: The Pizza and the Tooth Fairy

[masterlist]

Summary: The replacement finally comes in and Nanami keeps his promise to help you replace the sink trap. Yunn meets Nanami for the first time and sticks to him through pizza and the tooth fairy.

fluff, nanami kento x fem!reader

~4.2k words

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

As Nanami had said, the office sent the replacement rather quickly. You were calling Nanami by the following Tuesday afternoon to ask if he had time that week to help you replace the sink trap. Nanami did not recognize the number and he'd be lying if he said he didn't hope any unknown number would be you calling. He was quick to tell you that he was available that afternoon and asked if it was okay to go up at around 5:30pm after he logged out for work. You happily confirm, happy to finally stop the leaking sink, and continue working while you wait for Yunnuen to get out of school.

Once you’re walking away from the pick-up line with Yunn and after waving goodbye to Jessie, you tell Yunn that your neighbor will be coming up to help with something that afternoon. Yunn finds the pebble on the sidewalk more interesting than the conversation and gives a quick okay while kicking the pebble away.

At exactly 5:30pm, Nanami shows up to your apartment in a light… and tight t-shirt. You kept your apartment a bit cooler than you usually would and hoped it would be alright for Nanami, not wanting to repeat that day where the poor man was helping you in an oven-like apartment.

“Hi,” you greet him as you step aside to let him in. He’s carrying his own toolbox this time and exchanges the usual kind pleasantries with you. Yunn watches from afar but you call her over once Nanami has fully stepped inside.

You rub your daughter’s shoulders and have her stand right beside you to greet Nanami, “Nanami, this is my daughter Yunnuen. Yunn, he’s Nanami, our neighbor who’s gonna help me fix the sink, can you say hi?”

Yunn giggles and asks the towering man, “Nanimi, your name is Nanimi?”

He laughs and sticks his right hand out, “Hi Yunnuen, I’m Nanami. I live downstairs.”

Yunn takes his hand and he chuckles at the tiny hand only covering a fraction of his. You correct your daughter that it’s Nanami, not Nanimi, but he waves off the mistake and tells you it’s alright. It’s kind of cute, Nanami thinks.

You walk Nanami to the kitchen while Yunn goes back to the couch and the scattered toys on its surface. You tried to get the things ready for Nanami by placing the new sink trap, your toolbox and a cloth to wipe anything that might come out next to the opened cupboard.

Nanami crouches down and places his toolbox next to yours. Even though he had everything he would need in his own, he looks through yours to at least use some of the things you prepared for him. You ask if there’s anything you can do to help and he answers no with a smile, but you slide down to the floor next to the open cupboard to keep him company anyways.

“So…” you pick at the skin next to your fingernail, “how was work?”

Nanami looks back at you and chuckles at your attempt to start a conversation while he replaces your sink trap. If it was anyone else in any other situation, he might have ended it with a quick and simple ‘fine’, but he knew you were trying to be nice and keep him company in exchange for helping you... and he kind of liked it. “It was good, busy but good. My team is managing a few projects so it keeps us busy and it makes the day go by fast.”

You nod beside him, “That’s cool, what kind of projects does your team manage? Or are they top secret?” 

Nanami laughs but continues to tell you about the projects and company as a whole. The conversation gets easier with each sentence said and Nanami sees you smiling through the gap between the cupboard door and the counter edge. You have a pretty smile, Nanami wonders if you knew that…

Your phone starts ringing and you hear Yunn yell out that Ms. Jessie was calling. You excuse yourself to answer your call and Nanami nods and grabs the new sink trap. He’s almost done replacing it and he wishes it could take just a little longer to ask you a bit more about yourself.

Just as you get up to answer your phone, Nanami feels another presence beside him. There's light steps shuffling closer to him and a small plop on the floor. He shifts back to get out from under the sink and sees a small girl sitting criss-cross right next to him. She smiles at Nanami and waves. Nanami looks around the kitchen for you and does not see you, but hears you somewhere in the living room talking on the phone. He waves back at Yunn and shifts back under the sink to continue replacing the sink trap.

Nanami hears more slight shuffling and looks back to see Yunnuen peeking her head in to see inside the cupboard, the top of her head poking Nanami’s side. He laughs at the sight of the curious child but continues his job. He finishes rather quickly and reaches for the cloth you had readied for him to clean the bottom of the cupboard from the splattered things from inside the sink trap. Yunn pokes her head a bit further in and asks, “Are you going to fix the light too?”

You hear Yunn’s question from the living room and call for your daughter, “Yunn.”

“What light?” Nanami fully gets out from under the sink to look at the little girl still sitting criss-cross right next to him, only much closer than before.

“The light in the bathroom. It won’t turn on and momma can’t reach.”

“Yunnuen,” you call for your daughter again, a stern hint to stop.

Nanami looks up at you as you lightly pull Yunn back and quietly remind her to go pick up her toys in the living room. He stands and asks, “Which light is it?”

You start to shake your head and wave your hands in front of you, “No, no it’s ok! I just need to take a chair in there and do it. You’ve done a lot today, Nanami, thank you so much!”

Nanami wipes his hands on the small towel he brought in his toolbox, “I don’t mind, I'm already here.” He smiles at you, “Where’s the bulb? Which light is it?”

You pick at your fingernails and look into his eyes to check if he’s sure. He puts his hands on his hips and looks at you with complete certainty, waiting for you to lead the way to the bathroom. You finally nod with a tight-lipped smile and walk towards the hallway closet to get the new bulb. Nanami follows closely behind to get the bulb and goes into the restroom. You lean down to get a stool for Nanami to reach up easier and Nanami laughs at the light blue stool decorated with flowers and tiaras.

You stand back up and point to the stool, “Yunnuen can’t reach the sink too well so she has a stool.”

Nanami nods with a smile and thanks you before slowly stepping on the stool to make sure it wouldn’t collapse under his weight. You both hear toys clanking from the living room and you excuse yourself, “I’m gonna go check Yunn actually picked up her toys.”

Nanami hears your steps drift further from the restroom and into the living room when Yunn walks into the restroom and looks up at Nanami. She’s watching him replace the bulb and patiently waits for the man to finish.

As soon as Nanami puts his arms down from replacing the bulb and the new light flashes bright, the small girl reaches up to give Nanami what she’s holding, “Here, for you!”

Nanami looks down and sees a small lilac teacup and the tiniest plate he’s ever seen under a small plastic slice of pizza. He can’t help but lightly laugh at the little girl on her tiptoes reaching to give him her meal.

“Yunnuen?” Nanami hears you looking for her and lets you know she’s in the bathroom with him.

Nanami crouches down to sit on the stool to be at eye-level with the young girl, “It’s my meal?”

She nods and hands him the pizza and teacup, “It’s a thank you for my sink and light.”

You reach the bathroom when Yunn is handing Nanami the pizza and Nanami holds the plastic toys in his palms, unsure of what to do next. He looks up at your figure at the doorway and you bring your hands up to your mouth and pretend to eat. Nanami follows suit and brings the pizza closer to his mouth, “Om nom nom nom.” He pretends to drink from the teacup and even turns it around to show Yunnuen he finished the drink.

Yunn laughs and she takes the cup to pretend to fill it again. You laugh at the scene in front of you — your daughter giving your neighbor fake food as thanks and your big neighbor trying to make himself small on the stool and pretending to eat your daughter’s plastic pizza.

Nanami looks up at the giggling little girl wanting to fill him up with her fake drinks and her mother leaning on the doorway and laughing. What peaceful sounds, Nanami thinks as he drinks his third cup of whatever Yunn is serving him now.

———

Because of the different schedules, Nanami didn’t see you and Yunn often, and when he did it was only for a few minutes at a time. He knew you left at around three o’clock for pick up and came back 20ish minutes later with a giggling little girl. He’d go pick up his mail/packages around the time you’d come back to walk back up with you both. He liked hearing the young girl’s stories from kindergarten and he liked seeing your shoulders relax a bit more every time you saw each other. Nanami wanted to find more excuses to talk to you but he was happy with the small conversations he got in the meantime. You’d always be in a rush to go somewhere or do something and Nanami hoped to catch you on a day when you could talk for a little longer.

Nanami is filling out one of his daily forms when he hears a series of small knocks. He pauses to listen, unsure if the knock was on his door or above his apartment. He hears your voice faintly calling Yunnuen and the young girl calling out for him from the hallway.

Nanami smiles and gets up from his desk to open his front door.

———

You’re holding Yunn’s hand as she jumps up the stairs and rambles about her class and classmates. This was the routine every day and listening to her really was one of your favorite parts of the day. You’re about to turn for the next flight of stairs when you look towards Nanami’s door. You couldn’t help but wonder about the man every time you passed by the second floor. Even without passing by the second floor, you’d catch yourself thinking about him as you washed dishes, folded clothes, walked to the pick-up line… he found a way to sneak into your thoughts often.

Just as you’re stepping on the first step, Yunn releases your hand and runs to Nanami’s door.

“Yunnuen!” You try to reach for her but she runs before you can catch her.

“Nanimi! Are you home?” She knocks as hard as her little fist lets her. You reach her right outside Nanami’s door and tell her he’s busy and can’t answer. You’re about to take her towards the staircase again when the door opens to a grinning man.

Nanami looks at the girls on his doorstep, you look embarrassed that he actually opened and Yunn is standing next to you with a wide smile, now with a gap.

You start to apologize as soon as he looks back at you, “I’m sorry, I know you’re working, I tried to grab her but she just booked it and—”

Yunn interrupts and opens her hand for Nanami to show him what’s in her palm, “Nanimi, I wanted to show you my toof.” She’s holding a small white tooth on one hand and uses the other to pull her lower lip down to show Nanami where the tooth used to be.

Nanami laughs and gets on one knee to look at Yunn’s tooth. “Oh my! That’s the biggest tooth I’ve ever seen!” the little girl laughs, “Did you cry?”

She lets go of her lip before answering, “I cried because Jacob’s head hit my here,” she points to the space between her chin and mouth, “and I got scared but my teacher hug me and I was ok!”

You’re standing behind Yunn, not sure whether to pull her away now and apologize again or let her finish her story.

“My mami told me we can have pizza for dinner because I was so brave today!” Yunn jumped more as she spoke, “Nanimi do you want pizza today?”

Nanami can’t help but laugh at anything the little girl does and says and you start to reach for your daughter, “Yunn, he might be busy baby, you can’t—”

Nanami interjects, “I would love to join you guys for pizza tonight. If you don’t mind of course,” Nanami is still kneeling in front of you and Yunn but is looking at you. You try to push the image of him on one knee in front of you faaaar back in your brain. Not a time to be delusional, not a time to be delusional…

You wanted to talk to him a bit more and maybe there was a part of you that hoped something would break in your apartment to give you a reason to call him. A couple things were faulty but they weren’t big enough to call him and ask for his help. Maybe Yunn was giving you the perfect chance…

“Our favorite pizza place has really good breadsticks so we always get that. Is delivery okay? Do you prefer a certain pizza?”

Nanami smiles and widens his eyes at the little girl showing him her tooth again. He stands and nods, “I’ll have anything you’re having. I’m not picky,” he ruffles Yunn’s hair and she holds her head while giggling, “At what time should I be over?”

Yunnuen starts to jump more while yelling ‘Yay yay yay yay!’ and you try to quiet her down while talking, “Well we usually have dinner some time between 6:30ish and 7 since this one,” you point down to the jumping child, “needs to be in bed by 8:30, 9 at the latest.”

Nanami laughs and tells you he’d be over a little after 6:30 to celebrate Yunn’s big milestone. You nod and excuse yourself to take your excited child upstairs and Nanami sees you drag Yunn up the stairs and keeps hearing her little jumps from downstairs. Nanami goes back to his office and sits on his chair while releasing a heavy sigh. Would it be too much if I changed? She already saw what I was wearing… Nanami looks down at his clothes, simple dark slacks and a grey pullover.

He hasn’t smiled so much since moving into that damned building, he was glad to finally have someone his age he could talk to and be close with. Well… start getting close with. Do I want to be close to her — to them? She’s a single mom, she’s in a different stage of life than I am… Can I be close to them? Nanami is pulled out of his thoughts when his work phone rings.

He sits up straight and answers the phone, “Schneider Electric, this is Nanami.”

Nanami checks the time on the corner of his desktop. It’s 3:34pm, three more hours to go.

———

Nanami gets to your door as the food is being delivered. He thanks the young deliveryman as he leaves and stops you before entering your apartment, “Wait wait,” he whispers and peeks inside to check Yunn is not listening, “Question, does Yunnuen believe in the tooth fairy?”

You laugh at the tall man asking about the tooth fairy, "I had mentioned it before and that was part of why she was so excited about her tooth falling out. I think she told Jessie about it too. How come?”

Nanami smiles, “Just checking.” He raises his voice to a normal volume before continuing, “Here, let me help you,” he grabs the boxes from your arms but waits for you to welcome him into your home before coming in.

You welcome him in and call for Yunn, “Yunn! Can you come out now please? And get what's on the counter.”

Yunn comes running from her room in a Rapunzel costume and pigtails, “Ok mommy!”

Yunn grabs the few napkins and plates you had previously put on the counter and starts a hybrid of a walk and skip to the living room center table. She waves to Nanami then waves for him to follow her. Nanami starts to follow the young girl before you can even protest and redirect them to the small dining table in the opposite direction. You give up on the battle you'd most likely lose against your five year old and follow them to sit next to Yunn on the carpet, across from Nanami.

“Hey Yunn, guess who came to visit me today?”

Two sets of ears perk up, you wonder who visited Nanami and how that visitor ties in to you and your daughter enough to bring them up. Yunn patiently sits with a smile, her shoulders barely peeking over the table when she sits directly on the floor.

“She said she’s been waiting to meet you,” Nanami takes something out from his back pocket, “but the tooth fairy said she saw you being very brave and wanted me to give you something.”

Nanami sits on his knees to give Yunn a ten dollar bill. Yunn excitedly stands and goes over to Nanami’s side to get the bill, ignoring you and not looking back at all. Your brain catches up with what he’s doing and you sit up straighter to try to stop Nanami.

“The tooth fairy said she’d come back later, but you have to be asleep first, ok?”

Yunn carefully grabs the bill, “Nanimi, is the toof fairy pretty?”

Nanami looks over at your shocked expression as you sit across from them with an arm stretched out.

“She’s a really pretty fairy,” he smiles at you before looking back at Yunn whose smile is still growing.

There’s a flush creeping onto your cheeks… technically— very technically speaking, you were the fairy. He looked at you when he said it… was that him saying you were…?

“Nanimi, can I buy a happy meal with this?”

Yunn is looking at Nanami with glowing eyes and Nanami hangs his head to laugh.

“I think so, you might even have a little left over after a happy meal,” Nanami pokes Yunn’s tummy and smiles.

"Yay!" Yunnuen jumps and her pigtails jump with her, "I'm gonna put this in my piggy!" She turns to run to her room but abruptly stops and turns back to Nanami, "Nanimi, do you want to see Pinky?"

Nanami turns to look at you, wondering what the hell a pinky even is. You run your fingers through your hair and lean on the table, looking between the giddy child and confused neighbor looking for an answer on your face. You nod and Nanami mirrors the action for Yunn. She wastes no time and runs to her room.

Nanami shifts from being on his knees to sitting criss-cross in his spot. He smiles and rubs his palms on his pants when you break the silence.

"Nanami, you — listen, you really don't- didn't have to do that," you sigh, "I haven't even paid you back for helping me fix our sink."

He smiles and points to the boxes between you, "This is it. This is how I want to be payed back."

Nanami notices your usual tight-lipped grin and continues, "I wanted to do that. I remember what it was like to be a kid and be excited about things like that. Please do not think you have to pay me back. I'm happy I get to do this and make a kid that happy."

You both hear Yunn throwing things around in her room and Nanami breaks into a wide smile and laugh. It's weird... he seemed so stoic when you first met him by the mailboxes, but now he's sitting in front of you, smiling about your girl making a mess in her room. Without realizing, you start smiling too. It's nice to smile so easily...

Yunn starts walking back to the living room and all Nanami sees is a pink dinosaur plush that's bigger than the little girl carrying it. He can only see her pigtails besides the dinosaurs neck and her small feet dragging her back towards the table. She sits the pink plush besides Nanami and goes behind him to put a tiara on his head.

You facepalm, "Oh god, Yunn—"

She rounds the table and puts another small tiara on your head before taking her seat beside you again. She nonchalantly starts opening the box of breadsticks and says, "Nanimi, this is my Pinky. I'm wearing my dress, I don't need my crown. Momma and Nanimi need a crown. Nanimi, was the toof fairy wearing a crown?"

Nanami is adjusting his crown while responding, "She was wearing a crown but had a jacket on to hide her crown and outfit, she said she didn't want to recognized."

Yunn is staring at Nanami in complete astonishment, nodding along as if it made sense for the tooth fairy to hide underneath her jacket.

You're putting a pizza and breadstick on Yunn's plate as you look at Nanami and laugh. You half-apologize for your daughters' actions but look back at your little girl knowing that you would never seriously apologize for a child's innocence. Everything she did was breathtakingly amazing to you and you really did not know how you got so lucky with a child like her.

You and Nanami start pilling up your plates while you listen to Yunn ramble about how she's sleeping fast tonight to get more money from the tooth fairy so she could buy happy meals for the group's next meal.

The simple fact that Nanami was included in Yunn's statement warms his heart and he can't deny looking forward to eating from the small red box with a yellow smile.

———

The week after the pizza dinner, Yunn fulfilled her promise on the happy meals. Or more like you did, you let Yunn's $10 stay in her pocket and all she had to do was invite Nanami to McDonalds. It felt weird to let your five year old knock on Nanami's door and invite him out again, but you were relieved when he happily (and swiftly) said yes and offered to drive the group there. Yunnuen left her handprint on the window as she was getting out and Nanami did not have the heart to wipe it off. Nor did he want to.

After leaving the golden arches, Nanami invited you both for a dessert and hot chocolate. Yunn asked if you could take the hot chocolate to the park a block away so she could show 'Nanimi' how fast she could run through the playground. Nanami asked the barista to have the drinks to go instead and for one drink to be slightly cooler. It was cold outside but Nanami promised to play on the playground with you both... he found out the slide was too damn small for a man his size and the swing painfully digs into his hips and thighs.

A few days after the park, you invited Nanami to a local sandwich shop for lunch after bumping into him on the staircase. Nanami walked to his front door since you could see it from the stairs but ran once inside his apartment to gather his coat, gloves and scarf. He was back by the staircase in record time. Yunn was at school during the sandwich outing and although he missed the giggling and the small hand occasionally reaching out to hold his finger, he did like the way you spoke slowly, uninterrupted and without a rush.

While listening to you speak and watching you take off the tomatoes on your sandwich, Nanami realized that he could do this every day. He could have lunch and dinner with the duo every day if he could.

Oh no… I've got it bad...

But even with that realization, Nanami did not flinch. Nanami’s heart beat a bit faster while sitting around the living room table with you and Yunn. His cheeks had never ached so much as they did after chasing Yunn around the park and playing freeze tag. He's never felt so enamored by the way someone removed tomato from their food while they continued their conversation.

He’s never felt like an outsider, like he didn’t belong, but strangely— he felt like this was the first time he could really belong somewhere, it was a good place to be, where he should be. Sitting across from a giggling little girl picking out her pepperoni to eat first during dinner and across a smiling woman retelling a story for lunch… he felt like he belonged. What a scary thought — it wouldn’t be easy to fit into your puzzle. But maybe I could?

"Kento."

You stop talking and look up at Nanami.

Nanami smiles and repeats himself as he slides a napkin closer to you, "Call me Kento, or Ken, whichever you prefer. My first name."

You look down at the removed tomatoes on your plate then back at the man holding his own sandwich, "Okay," you nod while trying to contain your smile to a small grin instead of the wide smile the butterflies in your stomach have been dying to release. "Well Kento, would you like my tomatoes?"

It's Nanami's turn to try to contain his smile. He bites his lower lip and tries to not think too deeply about how nice his name sounds coming from your mouth.

Nanami puts his sandwich down on his plate and leans to yours to pull the red pieces off your plate, "Thank you, y/n."

Your grin loses its battle against the wide smile, "You're very welcome, Kento."

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

Chapter 3: Fahrenheit or Celsius

(a/n: i will link the next chapter when it is posted 😚)

(tags: @phoenix666stuff , @emzalot , @julia23sblog)