#its bc i end up leaning to one side while drawing for no reason and its SO ANNOYONG but idk how to stop. fcjjj

[paradimeart]

aggghhh why is everything so difficult

[nakitengoku]

Hi I see u reblog posts all the time with 'vex' and 'vance', who are they?

I'm so glad you asked! Buckle up, this'll be a long one.

In Short, Vex is my cyberpunk 2077 self-insert turned oc through Character Development and Quirks that I don't possess! You can find all the posted drawings I've done of him here, here and here, but I can give you a rough summary bc I love talking about him and he makes me ill <3 I've even made him his own Spotify Playlist

First off, Vex's original concept came a while ago when I had first watched Cyberpunk: Edgerunners. (Original designs below) I named this self insert Ghost and he was supposed to operate as a shady BD dealer

I wouldn't come back to this idea for a whole year, where a friend of mine who had been posting about the game convinced me to play. I decided to revamp Ghost, including his Name Change to Vex (to fit the theme of the main characters name starting with V). Through many back and forth a between me and my friend, and through playing the game, I had eventually fleshed out Vex.

Crash course in Vex Lore, due to rough circumstances and having no other options, he signed a contract with an upstart xbd (hyper-realistic 3d experiences plugged straight into your brain. Vex's specifically was in the pleasurable kind (he's a pornstar)) producer. For Nine year, Vex worked under this Producer, slowly becoming more and more of a hit star, especially among fanatics. But he wanted to be done with it and move on with his life, and lean into his side gig of being a Merc for hire. The producer, learning that Vex was gonna quit, begged him for once last recording. During which, the Producer tried to have Vex killed by the hands of his co-actor. Vex learns this in the middle of a scene and flips it around, instead Killing his co-actor and his producer.

He then hides the body, moves and tries to make a job for himself in Atlanta, but after nearly 2 years of miss after miss, he's forced to return to Night City, thus kicking off the start of the game!

Other than his backstory, he is part of the Worlds worst polycule composed of the Canon Characters, Kerry Eurodyne, River Ward and Johnny Silverhand, and the Non Canonical (though they're both canonical in my heart) Vex and Vance.

You may now be at the point of 'Phoenix, you've only been speaking about Vex, who the hell is Vance' Well, my dear beloved Mutual, Vance is @mail-me-a-snail's V! They're more inclined to talk about him and if you're really curious, they have an entire tag about him on their blog! Just know that I love Vance so strongly that Vex has to deal with it

(They've also recently posted one of their drawings of Vance and Vex and I'm over the moon about it)

There's also our mutual Bad Ending for Vance and Vex that you'll occasionally see me mention in Tags. That's the ending where Vex never escaped his Producer, instead continuing his work and becoming extremely popular and Vance never leaving Arasaka (a huge corporation). This ending is just for the two of them to rip each other apart in mutually assured destruction done out of love, commitment and understanding <3 (of which has its own Spotify playlist)

General rule of thumb is if you see a Vex with short hair and a blue collar, that's normal Vex. If you see him with long hair and he's missing his collar, That's the Bad End Vex.

That's it for Major Plot Points! He's a pretty kind and caring guy, but Hates Johnny's guts and will only refer to him as Silverhand (for multiple reasons). He's main weapon is a katana. He'll eat random food off the street bc of ingrained habits and won't think twice about how nasty that it. His preferred mode of transport is a motorbike bc he can't drive a car for shit. He's my sopping wet cat of an oc that I shake around like a limp piece of prey between my teeth.

Hope you enjoyed this rant about him! Thank you so much for asking ! (And feel free to keep asking, I love talking about him)

[tteokdoroki]

had it | k.bakugou.

♡ pairing: katsuki bakugou x fem!reader.

♡ word count: 4.5K

♡ rating: everyone.

♡ genre: pro hero!au, married!au, fluff, comfort.

♡ summary: your pro hero husband is a show off, always has and always will be... but when his big ego gets in the way of you doing your job, you give him little piece of your mind..

♡ warning(s): please read ! mentions of violence, i gave reader a quirk?? bakugou with a daughter ok literally nothing. oh and angst if you squint.

♡ author’s note(s):  hi besties!! happy birthday to meee!! today i’m dropping a fic that’s been a long time coming, its a short and fluffy little piece with domestic baku bc i love him with babies n kids ok ok!! i hope you all have a lovely day <3

♡ masterlist | requests | kofi

some say that working for a pro hero is an honour, no matter what the position is. some may work behind the scenes— creating gear and suits that support the pros protecting their cities or livelihoods. others are in charge of things like reports, PR and even physical health. everyone plays an important role in a hero's career. there’s never a dull moment working in a team supporting the pros, especially if that pro was dynamight.

the offices for katsuki bakugou’s hero agency were always buzzing; usually because the clean up team were rushing through with stacks upon stacks of receipts and paperwork from the damage done during bakugou’s patrols— other times it would be his secretaries gossiping about how good he looks in his winter costume because damn did that tight black shirt do his arms justice but usually it was just because of the PR team contacting media outlets with excuses for bakugou’s potty mouth.

working for the hot headed blonde was more laid back than it seemed however, the man himself was rarely ever in the office as the number two hero but out on missions instead, the pay was pretty decent and no one ever really faced his angry wrath nor his sailor like mouth unless they had royally fucked up on their job. katsuki bakugou was someone to admire, he never gave a damn about what people had to say about him— he only cared about getting the job done and maybe that’s why most people enjoyed their time under the dynamight agency.

particularly this time, right around noon.

the doors to the floor of the secretary offices fly open, crashing loudly against the walls and drawing the staff from their daily work. this office space is around ten floors up and somehow you’ve made it in record time today. “where is he?” your voice crawls through the entrance of the room, settling over the workers like a thick fog— commanding, menacing and soft all at the same time. newbies cower in their boots, confused at what’s going on and it’s safe to presume those who have been working here for years have yet to give them the run down. “don’t make me ask again.” you add, eyes darkening as you cast your gaze across the room.

an intern approaches you, visibly shaking with fear which makes you loosen your stance and raise an eyebrow toward them. “he-uh... he just went for his lunch break—“ the stutter, gulping under the stare of another highly ranked pro hero. “in his...office— ma’am!” they stumble through their words, hiding behind the ungodly amount of paperwork that's been dumped into their hands. you make a mental note to chew bakugou out on the load his interns have been getting as well as your prior reasons for coming to his agency.

nonetheless you shake your head and drop the frown, a sweet smile quickly replacing the look that could put anyone six feet under if you really tried. with a tap to the side of your head, the visor to your hero costume rises above your eyes— allowing you to give the poor little intern a cheeky wink as thanks. “‘ppreciate it darling, have a good one!” you thank them properly with a ruffle to their hair, resuming your previous stance as you march the rest of the way through the office and kick open the door at the end of the room.

the intern sags, a whimper of relief passing from tired lips while they wipe at the sweat forming on their brow. they’d not even encountered their boss yet and they’d already come face to face with a top pro hero. “w-what’s her deal?”

a chuckle to the left of the poor kid startles them out of their mind; but they relax upon realising it’s just another one of dynamight’s secretaries— haruto, who’d apparently been working at the agency since it started up. “that’s nightsky, her quirk is lullaby, which allows her to control certain people if she hits the right note. she can also put them to sleep, if she really wants to,” the intern now perks up, remembering you from countless interviews on tv. you ranked pretty highly too, managing to the reach the top five this year along with others like shoto and deku. “she owns the hero agency across the street, herself and dynamight have been going at it ever since. it’s like they’re elderly lovers or somethin‘.”

“d-do you think they are? lovers like you say?” the intern asks a little too excitedly, touching at their messy hair from where you’d ruffled it. a crimson blush warms their cheeks, the idea of two pros playing enemies to the public eye but being lovers in secret seemed like something right out of a romance novel. how romantic.

haruto only chuckles at the newbie, standing to ruffle their hair as well before heading over to the coffee stand to fix himself a cup. “beats me,” he mumbles cheerily as he walks away, arms crossed behind his head. “but with the way yn bursts in here at the same time everyday to scold bakugou, and leaves with a huge smile on her face— i wouldn’t put it past them. they probably have a whole life together.” he taps his nose once as if he’s given away too much information, turning away without a word.

the intern hums, seemingly happy with their superior’s answer and easily heads back to work from there.

katsuki bakugou was bored out of his mind.

being a successful pro hero was all he’d ever wanted— being the number two pro hero just came with that. bakugou wanted to get to the top and show everyone he was the best of the best and with him being blessed with a powerful quirk there was no way he couldn’t be where he was today. yet, now that he’d finally achieved his dream all he wanted was a fucking break. the blonde stares down at his microwaveable bowl of home cooked stew, a frown cutting deep into his cheeks. it was his lunch break for crying out loud, but instead of scarfing down the delicious meal before him, the hero was forced to watch it cool as some dumb fuck reporter asked him questions over the phone.

the telephone interview ( or a waste of his fucking time, as katsuki had called it ) , had been set up by his PR team right after he’d taken down a couple low level villains downtown earlier this morning. katsuki had called it nothing but apparently the whole world and their mother had been on his ass, watching as he took the criminals down with ease and raving about how glorious dynamight was during that fight. the reporter drones on about said event, asking the same old questions and it takes everything within the hot headed pro not to blow a casket— he’d been promised a few extra days off from his manager if he could finish the interview without blowing something up and only god knew how much katsuki needed a break from dumb paps and some overly obsessive fans.

‘so, final question, how does it feel to be the number two?’

bakugou grunts, buying himself time to formulate an answer. what he really wants to do is kindly tell the reporter to fuck off and ask more original questions; but with the prize of a longer weekend hanging in the balance he bites his tongue for the sake of freedom. “well i—“

“katsuki bakugou.” your voice cuts through his sentence before he can finish, vermillion eyes land on your hero costume clad form as you burst into his office. a lazy smirk now decorates the hero’s lips, brow quirked with piqued interest. “i have a bone to pick with you, you motherfucker.”

the reporter on the other end falls silent as katsuki watches you, leaning back in his plush leather chair. you look slightly disheveled, costume torn in a few places, scrapes littering your skin as you pant heavily from exertion— chest rising and falling with every breath, it seems ragged and bakugou makes a mental note to remind you to get your ribs checked out later. “you’re late, shitty woman.” the number two sits up a little straighter as you enter the room, leaning up to look at you while you slam your hands down on the smooth marble desk— the force rattling the items he has neatly placed on it.

‘uh-? mister...dynamight-? sir?’

your eyes sweep the room while the pro before you deals with the reporter, mentioning to her that they’ll have to continue their call later. in the meantime, you note that katsuki’s office is meticulously clean, not a single book, folder or pen out of place— it’s high up with a perfect view of the city and the large windows allow golden beams of the sun to light up the room. the sound of a phone being placed back on its hook brings you from your thoughts; annoyance settling deep in your veins as you turn to face bakugou again.

“i had it,” you growl lowly, jumping the gun before he can even register what you’ve said. “i’m a grown woman, katsuki, i can handle a couple of criminals myself, you know.”

the blasting hero does nothing but smirk even wider at the irked tone that litters your voice, standing up as well to tower over you. bakugou still wears his own hero costume, considerably in less damage than yours— not a single tear had formed in his suit, mind the small scratches on his face no doubt from his stupid explosions creating some debris. leaning over the desk between you, bakugou uses a forefinger and thumb to tilt your head up, bringing you even closer than before. “clearly y’didn’t sweetheart, or otherwise that icyhot bastard wouldn’t have needed to back you up ‘fore i got there...” his timbre voice sends sparks of electricity through the air in the room, it’s low and gravelly which is enough to send shivers down your spine but you’re not about to let katsuki bakugou know that he makes you flustered— it’d go straight to his head, the cocky bastard.

nonetheless; you roll your eyes at the mention of your old classmate and fellow pro hero— shoto todoroki. yourself and shoto got along fairly well, even back in high school, so it was normal for you to work together from time to time; you both made a great team and your skill set complimented each other’s well. katsuki was just jealous. he never really got along with todoroki like that. “he didn’t back me up, we were working together,” you snap back at the blonde, shaking yourself from bakugou’s grasp and flicking him right between those alluring vermillion eyes. “something you might not be familiar with, mister number two.” bakugou backs away from you completely ( only wincing slightly ), making you smirk in victory. you’ve struck a nerve. deciding to leave the conversation at that, you turn to make your exit as he collapses back into his seat with a deathly scowl and a quiet ‘tch’. “like i said, i had it, dynamight. next time, don’t jump in uninvited.”

happy that you got the last laugh, you open the door to leave his office but pause when a wave of heat hits your back. you should have known, katsuki bakugou was never one to back down from a challenge and you certainly weren’t an exception. well shit. when you turn around to face the blonde, small explosions spark from his right hand and he has some what of a look of a feral pomeranian, blood red eyes full of rage.

you visibly gulp and katsuki growls out his next words with the upmost venom, designed to hurt and cut at your feelings. “well maybe y’sudda let the actual pros handle shit like this,” bakugou begins, voice rising in volume with every syllable that passes his lips. “we both know you’re no good at short distance attacks with your quirk, shitty woman, you couldn’t have taken those villains down without me.” the blonde finishes with a short ‘tsk’, settling the explosions that spark in his palms. now it’s your turn to be pissed. you could handle katsuki’s jealousy, his petty reasoning for joining you on your patrol and taking the credit but bashing you and your quirk? no way in hell would he get away with that.

“bakugou?”

“what? the fuck y’still here for?”

you roll your shoulders, gracing the blonde with a devilish smile as your eyes light up mischievously. “why are you hitting yourself, bakugou?” you sing, hitting just the right notes that will have him under your spell, the tone in your voice as smooth as chocolate. katsuki’s eyes widen in horror and before he can stop himself, his free hand comes up to slap him across the face. that was your quirk, lullaby. you had the ability to sing your way out of any situation— adjusting the tune of your song to control the actions of certain individuals or groups of people. it was near impossible to resist but the more people you used your quirk on, the weaker your control over them was. that doesn’t mean you weren’t going to use it on bakugou from time to time. the blonde tries to fight it, he really does, but he’s no use up against your ability— losing all control of his own body. he grunts on impact, looking bewildered for a moment as he moves to grab his own wrist to stop any impending blows. “not so cocky now, are we dynamight?”

“h-hey!” he stammers, refusing to accept defeat against you. “shitty woman, no fuckin’ fair. you know i can’t use my quirk against you in here.” he was right, while your quirk was poor against short distance attacks ( meaning you had to result to hand to hand combat ), bakugou couldn’t use his own in enclosed spaces without hurting anyone he didn’t want to. especially you, he would never hurt you intentionally unless you were sparring.

“shoulda thought about that before you decided to taunt me, you know better than to piss off your wife, katsu.” you chide, still smiling just as brightly as you were earlier, before taking a seat on his desk and folding one leg over the other. it was quite amusing to watch your husband of four years fight against himself— everyone knew katsuki had an unbelievable amount of strength even without his quirk so he was definitely beating himself up ( literally and figuratively ).

bakugou looks up at you through gritted teeth while he struggles to keep the wrist you have control of down and you almost feel bad for the guy. “turn it off, dammit!” he curses at you, said hand rising above his free one to tug at his own sun kissed locks.

feigning interest in the objects on your lover's desk, you ignore his pleas for you to release him from the holds of your quirk and hum “apologise.”

“f-fuck... fuck y-you.”

you sigh knowingly, picking up a hand crafted paperweight, covered in glitter and sequin stars,  inspecting it carefully. bakugou could hardly ever say the word ‘sorry’, it was just in his nature and he’d been that way since you were young. part of you knows it’s because of how he was treated as a child where people praised him for his quirk. that meant he became prideful yes, thought highly of himself too and struggled to admit when others were right...but he had his own way of apologising— through actions instead of words.

like when you first moved in together and he had broken your favourite mug, instead of saying he was sorry, he spent all night super glueing it back together for you to use in the morning. to him, actions were louder than words but you right now; you were being mean and just wanted to hear him say it.

“fuck fuck, fine. alright. ‘m sorry.” bakugou lets out a strained growl as the hand you control gives a particularly hard yank to his hair. “i’m sorry for lying about your quirk. it’s not shitty…’n ‘m sorry for... barging in on your patrol. again.” you grin, satisfied with his answer and grab the hand he keeps down with his wrist. you press a simple kiss to the skin, making your husband blush as you release your hold over the limb. katsuki shyly yanks it from your grip, rubbing over the area that you’d kissed, shooting his gaze to the side in the process. “jesus shitty woman, if i don’t die from being a hero or of old fucking age, i know for a fact you’ll be the one to kill me first.” he mutters harshly under his breath, but you know he’s only kidding from the way his hands now fall to your thighs and his fingers rub small circles into the exposed skin.

“pro hero nightsky murders number two pro hero dynamight in cold blood!” you joke as if you’re reading a headline in a news article, katsuki only glares up at you— making no effort to curse you out because of your shitty joke, which causes you to frown while leaning  forward to brush some of his hair away from his face. “you know i’m only kidding right? is something wrong? did i come at a bad time?”

it’s only now that you notice the exhausted expression that paints your lover’s face. he’s always up to playing this game with you, at the same time every day— you come to bother him about some trivial matter, tease him a bit and leave with a kiss. but today, you can tell he’s trying to hide something from you. something that bothers him.

bakugou shakes his head, leaning into your touch as you play with his hair— a habit he’d picked up from even before you started dating back in high school, although he’d never admit that to you if you’d asked. “nothin’, just this stupid fuckin’ interview the PR team want me to do about the fight today. the one i took from you,” your husband smirks slightly at the thought and you roll your eyes for what seems like the nine hundredth time that afternoon. “didn’t get to finish my fuckin’ lunch but they promised me a couple days off if i got the interview done.”

“better the number two than me, eh? but don’t worry, i’ll order us some take out tonight,” your suggest, voice coming out as soft and mingling with your slight giggle— a quiet melody to katsuki’s ears. your only reply from him is a grunt, so you stop your fingers in his hair and watch as he scowls up at you. you quickly press a kiss to the explosive hero’s lips, pulling away to reveal his blushing face. you smile, knowing that you’re the only one who can make him flush red like that. “there’s something else bothering you, isn’t there?”

if there’s one thing katsuki bakugou hates, it’s how you read him like an open book. one look at him and it’s like you know exactly how he’s feeling. he can never hide anything from you— sometimes that both pisses him off and reminds him of how much he is loved by you. he hesitates with his words at first but decides to confide in you anyway, knowing that you’ll get it out of him in one way or another. “‘m worried about you, dumbass.” he mumbles, nudging your hand with his head as if to ask you to continue your earlier actions. “i know you had it, yer fuckin’ powerful but you looked so tired in that fight today ‘n i thought something bad was gonna happen to you, y’fuckin’ shitty woman.”

he toys with the tears in your costume now, smoothing over scars from your bumps and scratches as a result of combat. “oh lovebug,” you mumble, cupping his cheeks to make him look up at you. “you know i can handle my own, they just took a lot out of me today. i promise i’ll—“

“that’s not it, fuck,” katsuki cuts you off, brows furrowing deeply as he grabs your wrists— pulling your from his desk and into his lap. he holds you close, burying his nose into your neck as if you’re going to disappear. you sit still, a little shocked by his actions and his quick change of mood, but wrap your arms around him anyway and slowly fall silent. “it's just that...we’re both pros now and at the top of our ranks ‘n we both have a lot to lose.” you instinctively cling tighter to katsuki, mind flickering to the homemade paperweight you’d spotted on his desk earlier... causing your heart clench.

your daughter had made that for him during her time at preschool for fathers day; something your husband cherished with his whole heart, even if the thing was still sticky with glue when he’d gotten it.

katsuki loved taiga more than anything in the world and if something had happened to her because of your line of work, you don’t know what either of you would do. “what if something were to happen to you? or to me? or shit...both of us? who would look after taiga? you know what happens to kids who end up in the fucking system.” bakugou pauses, the same tired expression from earlier now sitting heavily on his face. “i just want you to be careful, stop pushing yourself so much, y’fuckin’ dumbasss. we have a family take care of. it’s not just you and i anymore.”

you nod, grasping onto your lover’s clothes tightly. the air is flooded with a comfortable silence, the pair of you holding one another right the way through it. you treasure moments like this, where the world stops and katsuki shows you another, more vulnerable side to him.

he would never admit or show this to anyone; but he cares , more than he lets on... especially for you and especially for your daughter. he was attentive, paid attention to you and your weaknesses and helped you overcome them. it was something you couldn’t stop loving about him. “i promise to be more careful, for you and for taiga,” you say quietly after he’s done scolding you, brushing your lips against the side of his head in a soft peck. “that must’ve been why jumped in earlier, you were worried about me?”

“somethin’ like that, you crazy woman,,” bakugou whispers, there’s a tinge of fondness to his ruby eyes as you pull away to look at him, his hands settling on your hips while he moves up to press a soft kiss to your awaiting lips. “didn’t want you getting yourself killed.”

you stay with katsuki in the office for a little longer than usual, laying on his chest as he prattles away about everything and anything even though he should be working. you make sure he eats his lunch, despite how cold it is and promise him a boat load of take out when he comes home later— your sweet cuddling session only being cut short by a call from your assistant to tell you that your daughter is ready to be picked up from school. “better finish that interview katsu, taiga’ll be happy to know her daddy’s getting some time off to spend with her soon,” you remind him as you gather yourself together, your husband pouting ( he swears on his life he wasn’t ) from the loss of your warmth in his lap. “she has a lot to tell you.”

the blonde quirks a brow, watching you as you head for the door. “yeah? like what?” a hand comes up to cover your mouth as you giggle at his curious face. sometimes, when you look at katsuki, you could see how much your daughter resembles him, right down to his mannerisms. she had somehow inherited the shape of your nose and the brightness of your smile ( the only reason barely anyone realised bakugou had a kid, he never fucking smiled. ) but the bakugou genes were incredibly strong so there was no way she’d miss out on those crimson eyes and uncontrollable, untameable messy blonde hair.

she even acted like him. a very brazen little girl who knew what she wanted and how to get it, so she had her daddy wrapped around her stubby little fingers.

you grin, eyes sparkling with the same mischief as before. “oh y’know, just her little crush on midoriya’s boy.”

“yer fuckin’ kiddin’ me.”

“i would never joke about such a thing,  just make sure you’re home in time for dinner, number two!” you squeal, dashing out of the office before your husband has time to demand more answers from you. slamming the door shut, you chuckle at the melody of curses that leave your husbands mouth before heading off to pick up your daughter.

on your way, you admit to yourself , that maybe you didn’t have this fight in the bag. but what you did have; was a loving husband, a beautiful daughter and the best life you could have ever imagined.

extended ending:

“so, taiga... daddy hears you have a little... crush on someone.”

you’re in the kitchen, washing the dishes from tonight’s dinner as bakugou wipes tentatively at your little girl’s messy face— she was a poor eater but it’s something you didn’t mind, not when your husband was so soft with cleaning her up. you can see them from where you stand, watching katsuki knowingly.

taiga looks up from the colouring you’d set out for her when she finished up her meal, crimson eyes shining brightly as she fixes her gaze on her father. “mhm mhm!! he’s mister deku’s son! and i’m gonna marry him!”

“no yer not.” bakugou answers simply, looking close to popping a vein.

“why not?”

your husband scoffs, throwing away the tissue he’d used to clean his little girl up before joining her in her colouring. “‘cause daddy says so ‘n boys are gross, especially ones who’s dad’s look like broccoli.” the older ash blonde seems satisfied with his answer, grinning to himself as you dry the dishes with an amused smile.

but taiga isn’t finished, swapping her green crayon for a red one to finish up her drawing. “but you’re a boy...and mommy still married you!”

bakugou pauses, lost for words as taiga continues to colour— humming the theme song from a commercial for some of deku’s merch. you can tell it’s taking everything katsuki’s got not to combust right there on the spot, but he can’t stay mad at taiga for too long, not when she’s describing her wedding and how her daddy is going to walk her down the isle.

setting the dishes to dry and towelling your hands; you smile to yourself as you admire your family. some would say you had it all, and looking at the pair of bakugou’s now, who were you to deny the truth.

[studiobeebo]

IM SO GLAD I COULD CONVINCE U BC ITS FANTASTIC AND I HOPE MORE PPL GET INTO IT! and im literally the biggest slut for aquariums so ty ty and hope u enjoy 🤙🏽 @alibrick1

♡ Aquarium Date ♡

Soshiro Hoshina x Unspecified Gender! Reader

as always if y’all enjoy this please remember that reblogs are greatly appreciated!!

“What’s so funny?” You huffed, giddiness at the sight of the incredible creature in the tank in front of you quickly turning to suspicion upon turning away to look for where your boyfriend could have wandered off to, only to find him standing a few feet behind you, laughing.

“Nothin’.” He chuckled, a smile still on his face as he closed the distance between the two of you, though now his eyes were on the large whale shark that passed by behind you, which was arguably where his attention should have been considering the two of you didn’t go to the aquarium just stare at each other, but he couldn’t help his focus shifting to you more often than not.

Things at the base had been a bit hectic to say the least and being the vice captain, that chaos naturally landed right in his lap and he was expected to take a large part in getting things under control. That combined with the fact that you hadn’t exactly gotten off easy yourself meant that the two of you had been seeing very little of one another, which was generally expected due to your jobs and the fact that he was never really ‘off duty’ due to his position, but you’d barely had time to do anything aside from maybe eat lunch together and even that had become rare.

To be honest, he was arguably more put off by your lack of time together than you were, yet it was you who ended up finally requesting to get a weekend off with him.

While you decided to shoot high by asking your captain if her vice captain could be included in your time off, you were expecting her to draw the line at him considering the amount of work that had to be done, but to your surprise she agreed. It was something about how she knew good performance stemmed from a well rested mind, but all you heard was ‘you get a weekend off with your boyfriend’ and you were practically running down the hall ordering shinkansen tickets to Osaka and texting Soshiro simultaneously. He didn’t believe it at first, but he was more than happy to agree so here you were, at the Kaiyukan aquarium on a well deserved weekend off.

He himself was pretty impartial to aquariums and zoos, he dealt with insane creatures damn near everyday so there was never really anything about the attractions that really drew his attention. You, on the other hand, were someone who had become very good at drawing his attention and he’d caught himself staring a good handful of times throughout your day.

It was partially because of your looks, especially since you had gone all out considering the fact that you rarely got to do so, but mostly because this was the first time he had seen you looking excited and happy in a while. Usually when you saw one another, you were both exhausted and just about out of any energy you could muster, so seeing you looking into the various fish filled tanks with a wide smile playing on your lips and an extra pep in your step was more than enough to give him reason to stare.

He only laughed because he couldn’t believe himself for being so romantically cringey, plus it was funny seeing you practically smash your face against the glass to get a better look at the gentle giant that swam by every once in a while, but he was quick to act like he definitely-totally-100% wasn’t laughing at you.

“ ‘Nothin’ “, you mocked while gently elbowing him in the ribs before leaning into his side as he feigned dramatic pain. “You’re a shit liar, I can always tell when you’re laughing at me.”

“I don’t know what you mean.~” He hummed, this time letting out an actual ‘ow’ upon receiving a kick to his foot as he wrapped an arm around your waist. “Just in a good mood ‘s all.”

You hummed, shifting your eyes to look at him before looking back at the display before you. You liked to act like you didn’t care in retaliation to the amount of teasing you received from him, but you really did want him to have a fun weekend to relax a bit. You had been a tad bit worried that he might have wanted to spend his small slice of free time having time for himself, not that you would blame him, so you were relieved to see the lack of tense body language that you had been seeing in him as of late and a genuine smile on his face.

“In a good enough mood to buy me dinner?” You challenged with a raised brow, not wanting to dwell on being mushy for long as he let out a laugh of his own while giving a gentle squeeze to your waist.

“You’re not very good at being persuasive.”

“What do you want me to do, pose?”

“God no, that would be embarrassing and then I’d have to act like I don’t know who you are.”

You rolled your eyes and let out a faux huffy “Fine then.”, though when you went to pull away from him he was quick to tighten his grip, reflexes as fast as ever as he pulled you closer and muttered a resigned “Fine, fine.” against your skin while pressing a playful kiss on your temple.

“Gross, people are gonna think we’re dating or something.” You teased, this time actually wiggling out of his grasp to get a move on as your hunger began to creep up on you at the mention of dinner.

He simply smiled, moving to follow after you as he had done so many times before and would probably end up doing until the day he died.

“Yeah, well-“ He started, lacing his fingers with yours as he caught up. “Guess we’ll just have to tell them I got lucky.”

[pomegranates-and-blood]

Are very, very old friends

My Masterlist 

Your heart and my heart (first part of this)

Pairing: Ivar/Reader

Summary: A second part to Your heart and my heart, where Ivar and Reader were childhood friends (and pretended to get married when they were children) and got separated by circumstances of life, only to meet again on a battlefield in Wessex.

Word Count: 9.8k (I am so fucking sorry, holy shit)

Warnings: My unwavering state of denial over Aslaug’s death, mentions/descriptions of injury/battle, allusions to sex (nothing graphic), and my terrible writing lol

A/N: I hope you are no longer surprised by how I seem to be able to focus only on the stuff I need to focus on the least, bc here we are. Writing has been very difficult lately, so I am not so sure this is any good, but I still hope you enjoy.

As a reminder: In this universe the brothers (minus Björn) are in Wessex with the Great Heathen Army but Aslaug isn’t dead (Lagertha never took over). This is an almost 6a in age Ivar, but of course a different canon where he has stayed raiding in England. And Princess Blaeja (who was briefly mentioned in the previous part) is engaged to be married to Sigurd.

Your eyes cannot move fast enough to take in the field ahead of you, trying to check every trap and every barricade. Even if you were to find a fault, you remind yourself, you wouldn’t be able to change anything.

Hlíf comes to you, brisk pace that you can still see the exhaustion in, and stands at your side, shield with your colors and your symbol. It looks heavy.

“They are coming, Dane.”

“I know,” A deep breath, and you signal with your head to the center of the camp, “Go back, you’ll lead them to hold the second line. The Saxons will breach the first one.”

“You are not staying here.”

You don’t meet Hlíf’s gaze, instead meeting the eye of a few shieldmaidens that stand tall ahead, waiting for the Saxons to come. They nod their heads once, they know what they are agreeing to.

“We are.”

The forward scouts sound the horns, and before long the marching feet of warriors makes the unfamiliar ground tremble under your feet. Your hands tighten on the handle of your sword, and you take a breath.

Hlíf steps closer, but her gait ins anxious, “You better retreat to us when the time comes, Dane. You are not allowed to die here.”

“Says who?”

Hlíf grunts a curse, but retreats behind the second line of spike barriers.

You’ve been hounded by this group for weeks, ever since you and your warriors departed for York back from a successful raid. You aren’t sure if they are from that city or sent to intercept you from somewhere else, but they are bloodthirsty and determined.

Making camp was a necessity, especially with the wounded and weakened you have in your group, but the years have made you ingenuous, and the months you’ve spent with the Great Army have taught you to use the surroundings in your favor.

Your warriors dug ditches and laid spikes within them, much like you remember hearing Lagertha did when she assisted Aslaug in defending Kattegat, and while you didn’t have the defenses of walls, you made sure to draw passageways with the placement of the tents, to lure the Saxons to follow a path you know by heart when they came.

And now you stand, restless in your spot, waiting for them to get close enough for your archers to thin their numbers, for the frakka’s of those closer to you to take down the stronger ones.

It is not enough, but you never expected it to be.

Once they get close enough, you shout the command to march, and your forces and theirs clash.

The sound of battle deafens you, shouts in two different tongues and death in the same language echoing around you. Still, you seem to hear the faintest of rustles, and you lift your shield as you turn, stopping the downward strike of a Saxon.

Pushing back while you bend your knees, you unbalance him, slashing at his thighs before you plunge your sword in his chest. He meets your eyes, and spits blood in your face before his strength leaves him.

So, it is personal then.

You keep moving, blunt hits of your shield and quick strikes of your sword, taking down as many as you can, worrying more for injuring them and weakening them before they reach the more vulnerable in the camp more than for killing them.

Maybe that is your mistake.

The sword slashes at your leg, the pain sharp and weakening, and your stance buckles. You turn around with a raised shield to try and defend yourself, but you are too close to the ground and the warrior puts all his strength behind his kick and forces you to the ground.

Scrambling to turn on your back and grabbing a discarded axe, you stop the advance of his sword, but your arms burn under the strain, and his snarling face reminds you of a chained dog too close to breaking free.

It isn’t enough. You have no choice.

Releasing the strain of holding him back, you are able to swing your arm back and hit the side of his neck with the hand axe, but not before his sword pierces your shoulder, drawing a scream of pain from you.

Pushing him off you, you stand on uneven ground, trying to make sense of the battle around you and keeping your defenses against the Saxons that are still very much after your blood.

Your shield once again on your hand, you stop the attack of a younger warrior, slashing his chest with a move of your arm that feels weaker and trembling even as you manage to deliver a fatal blow.

Another manages to get close enough to bit the edge of his shield against your wounded leg, and his sword slashes at your side, drawing blood and blinding pain in its wake. He is taken down by a snarling shieldmaiden that comes to stand at your side, and your eyes scan the first line of the camp’s defenses already breached.

You are outnumbered, you are not going to win. Not like this.

“Through the east!” You call out in your own tongue, not waiting for any of the few that remain able to fight to acknowledge your command before you dart for the passageways you can make use of.

You are close enough to the second line of barricades to cross it if you wish to, but your mind is made. The Saxons trailing after you and the few others that still stand, they make quick work of your shieldmaidens soon enough, and you grit your teeth at the screams of pain you can do nothing to stop.

Most of them were foolish enough to think you were retreating, and they trailed after you and the remaining warriors.

Reaching the end of the alleyway, you turn around, standing on shaky legs and lifting one hand. Breathing past the pain is proving difficult, and there’s black at the edges of your vision, but you can still make out the shapes above you, and those that stand next to you.

You close your hand into a fist, meet the eyes of the Saxons that seem to hesitate to approach. They will always fear a heathen woman that smiles while surrounded by blood and death, the fearful -faithful- will call her a monster and insist she is not human.

They fear, they hesitate. And that is enough.

And you drop your hand, the weakest of smiles on your lips as you give one last command,

“Loose.”

____

The first thing you can sense when you awaken is the pain, and the weight keeping you down. Awful, but at least you aren’t dead.

You open your eyes slowly, half expecting to see the murky forests of the Isles towering above you after having been left behind by the Saxons to bleed out slowly and painfully; half expecting something with women on winged horses and a lot of golden shades.

But all that greets you is wood.

Inconsequential, unimpressive, mediocre wood. Yet, your body is filled with such a relief you almost give in to the temptation to doze off again.

Still, you force your body to answer and you sit up on the cot, breaths ragged as the wound on your shoulder sends pain like lightning through your very veins. And slowly, painfully, and with more curses than your mother would like out of a princess, you stand up.

Just when you are considering what the plan after standing up actually was, a woman barges into the room.

“Oh, you’re standing,” She says, and you lift your eyebrows but say nothing. She tsks her tongue, and approaches, her eyes focused on your upper chest, “You shouldn’t be.”

“I would think it was a good sign.”

“Which is why you do the fighting, not the thinking,” She quips, a quirk of her mouth as she glances at you. Quite mean, for an old woman, but still you offer a smile as well. Her palm presses lightly against your shoulder, before going to your side. “You’re not too hot.”

You pout, “Aw, shame.”

“And you seem to be in good spirits.” She chuckles.

You meet her eyes and lean closer, asking quietly,

“That will change soon, though, won’t it?”

“You are the reason a lot of people are angry, yes,” She confesses, before stepping back, “You also are the reason a lot of people are alive as well. Make sure they remember that, and you may keep your head.”

With a non-committal gesture you step past her, a hand on the doorway keeping you upright as you meet the gaze of the expecting shieldmaidens. They call your name and a few expletives in greeting, some in anger, some in welcome, but all in relief.

“While I love seeing you all alive and well, I…have a feeling at least one of you is here under specific instructions.” You state, a quirk of your eyebrow when one of the younger ones stands up, and slips out of the house quietly, with a murmur of being glad you are alright.

You sigh, and though one of them offers you a seat you highly doubt you’ll be able to stand if you sit down, so you wave away her offer, and lean on the doorway.

“Did the rest make it?”

“Most of them, yes. The injured are going to be escorted back, they couldn’t make it on their o-…”

The words die in a gasp as the door to the humble home is kicked open, and a tall shieldmaiden strides in, eyes blazing and set on you.

“You mad Dane bitch!”

“I have a name,” You quip as the shieldmaiden advances towards you. “It is a very pretty one, my mother chose i-…”

She shoves you forcefully, stopping whatever it is you were going to say.

You stumble back but catch yourself before falling, and you can’t help but let out a grunt of pain as your side is pulled tight by the sudden and forceful movement. The healer quips from the room at your back something about not injuring the already injured further, but you both ignore her it seems.

Hlíf still pushes on, “Of all the hare-brained, reckless, st-…”

“Hey!”

“You don’t scare me, Dane,” She huffs back, stepping forward until the shieldmaiden towers over you. “Half dead as you are because of your stupid decisions, you aren’t a threat to anyone, least of all me.”

In the back of your mind, a voice that sounds so alike your brother’s, always calm and collected; begs you not to do this.

You were never good at listening to him, though.

Headbutting one of your oldest friends wasn’t high in the list of things you wanted to do if you ever came back from the dead but…here we are.

Hlíf stumbles back, holding her nose and setting incredulous eyes on you.

Strangely enough, the tension seems to slowly ebb away with the unexpected action.

“I like proving people wrong.” You tell her around a shrug, slowly betraying a smile that she returns, even if there’s a resentful sort of relief in the way she approaches again and presses her brow against yours.

“You are so lucky you’re injured.”

“I wouldn’t call it-…”

“I would. I’d be knocking your pretty ass to the ground if you weren’t,” She promises, and scoffs a laugh that sounds like a reprimand, “You scared me, Dane.”

You meet her eyes, study the dark circles under them, the haggardness on her face, the stubborn tremble in her voice; and realize maybe you weren’t the only one to believe you’d die in that forest.

“How long has it been?”

“A little over a week since we made it to York.” She tells you, motioning for a seat, and motioning again when you refuse it. Stubborn.

You carefully sit down before the fire, narrowing your eyes at the girl that attempts to cover your legs with a fur. You are injured, but you’re far from an old woman.

Though you do accept the awful-smelling brew of herbs the healer presses into your hand before scurrying off back to the room where you were sleeping.

Watching the herbs swirl in the cup, you mumble, “You know, I did the right thing there.”

Hlíf’s kohl-lined eyes narrow, “I don’t think that means what you think it means.”

You gesture with the arm of your good side, “I wasn’t the one leading them! For once I followed orders and we got stuck, it isn’t my fault!”

Hlíf’s eyes only grow bigger and bigger in affront and fury at your insistence, and you decide to shut your mouth.

“You defended when you could have retreated, even though you were wounded, and alone.”

“When you put it like that of cou-…”

She interrupts you, her tone cold and imposing as she repeats, “You defended when you could have retreated, even though you were wounded, and alone.”

“I heard you the first time.”

She offers a side smile, head tilted to the side, “Huh, you listen. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“That is uncalled for, come on.”

Hlíf looks at you, blinks slowly two times, and takes a breath.

“You defended when you could ha-…” She starts again, but you interrupt her with a shove of her good shoulder and a huffed laugh. She does have a point, however insistent she is at repeating it.

“I panicked, I…I needed to give you more time to leave safely, without Saxons trailing after you. I needed to stall them.” You confess quietly, fidgeting with your fingers, elbows resting on your knees, ignoring the soreness on your side as your position strains at the healing wound.

“You agreed to retreat if you were outnumbered, but you didn’t.”

“There were still some traps that hadn’t been used, I could lure them to the east side, and it worked, the archers made work of the thick of their numbers.”

“You were half-dead by the time that happened.” She insists, biting.

“All that matters is that most made it out. It was the right call.”

“If I hadn’t insisted we go back to find you, you would be dead,” She argues, though her voice quietens as well. “You’d be alone in that damn place, we wouldn’t even be able to bury you.”

That is not something you want to think much about, and with your gaze on the flickering flames you press quietly, “Do you want me to apologize, is that it?”

“No.”

“What do you want then?”

“I don’t know, Dane. What do you want?” At your confused frown the shieldmaiden shrugs, “Coming back from the dead and all, figured I could grant you at least one thing.”

“Those Saxons that hunted us down strung up on a tree?” You ask, only half-jesting. Hlíf doesn’t laugh though, she only presses her lips together.

“Can’t do that, Dane. They have been handled already.”

You really shouldn’t have expected otherwise. Still, you ask the question to which you already know the answer,

“Ivar?”

“Poured melted crosses onto their heads, left some alive after it too. Gruesome thing,” She explains, and you nod your head with a hum, wondering how long ago that was and trying to imagine how exactly they were captured so quickly. Hlíf watches you with growing worry, “I don’t know if I should be concerned about your reaction, or…lack of it rather.”

“You get used to it after a while.”

She scoffs, shaking her head, “You do.”

After a few breaths of silence, Hlíf calls your name quietly. She usually calls you ‘Dane’, a habit that never left her since the first days you were fighting together, when you first were able to call yourself a shieldmaiden.

When your attention turns to her, she says, “I’m sorry for shoving you.”

You look into her pale eyes, offer a smile and a nod.

“You should be.” You quip, and after an incredulous breath Hlíf heaves a sigh.

“You could say you’re sorry too, Dane.” The shieldmaiden chuckles, still oddly fond in her defeat.

“I’m not, though.” You reply around a shrug, sharing a smile with her.

The conversation ebbs away as you hear a voice distantly shouting commands, a voice you know well.

“Where is she!?”

“Oh, great.”

Furious stabs of a crutch on the hard ground, and the door opens just as many shieldmaidens scurry away, making way for Ivar the Boneless. His eyes meet yours with a fury you have never seen before, a snarl on his lips and tension coiled around his body like a vine.

When he speaks, though, his voice denotes none of that. His voice is carefully even, dangerously still, reminding you of a beast stalling its breath before it strikes.

For a man as explosive as him, calmness is never a good sign.

“What. Were. You. Thinking.”

Your nose furrows, and you offer with a grimace, “I…wasn’t?”

“This isn’t a joke.”

“I know. I’m the one that almost died, remember?” You prompt, but he doesn’t answer. You nod your head, not really sure what to do, muttering to yourself, “Serious business, dying.”

Hlíf lets out a choked groan, before advising, voice low, “You should really just shut your mouth, Dane.”

Ivar turns to her, the sharp focus of his pale gaze making the shieldmaiden straighten in her seat.

“Get out.” He orders, voice low. You see it in her, the pride insisting on resisting and the instinct pleading to obey.

Instinct wins, and after sparing you a look Hlíf stands up, and motions with her head for the other shieldmaidens to follow, leaving you and Ivar alone in the small home.

It feels even smaller as his gaze returns to you, it even feels almost suffocating as Ivar takes a deep breath and squares his shoulders but says nothing.

You clear your throat, and start what you hope will be a conversation and not a screaming match.

“I am not apologizing for the choice I made.”

An angry breath leaves him through his nose, sharply. His eyes remain on you, quiet intensity that makes you feel exposed.

“Of course you’re not,” Ivar bites out, before shaking his head at himself, “I can’t believe you’d be so-…”

“It was the right call, Ivar.”

He wrenches his gaze from you, looking straight ahead. For a moment you wonder if he refuses to look at you because he thinks he can hide anything from you. Because he should know better, because he should know by now you are aware of the way his jaw tightens, of the way his breaths are intentionally -forcefully- even, of the way anger and pride are the only thing keeping his control from slipping.

“You could have died.”

“And?”

His focus returns to you, and you snap your mouth shut.

Wrong thing to say, wrong thing to say, wrong thing to say.

Ivar’s eyes widen in anger, and when he takes a breath he seems to be twice as tall.

“And!?” He repeats, voice thundering, “You almost died! You…” His nose curls in anger, but there’s something more fragile in his wide eyes, something like fear, “You spent days in that damn bed, they told me it was in the hands of the Gods whether you survived or didn’t.”

A pit of worry forms in your stomach, and you quieten your voice, trying to offer reassurance, “I pulled through, I-I am alright.”

But it falls on deaf ears.

“You were there, dying, and there was nothing I could do,” A sharp breath, but it sounds choked, “You would have gone where I can’t follow, I-…there was nothing to do, nothing I could-…I c-couldn’t-…”

“Ivar…”

He turns to you, accusing, “I was unable to do anything while you died, while you left me.”

“I didn’t die, I am alright.”

“You almost did.”

“That’s-…”

His lip curls into a snarl and your eyes are drawn to the scar on the right side of his mouth, the scar you are responsible for. The process of healing from the deep cut you left that first day you were reunited was a slow one for him, especially because of how much you insisted on finding ways to make him smile and then grumble at the sting of a reopened cut. And now your eyes are drawn to that scar, watching it follow the movement of his mouth as it curls in anger.

“No, I don’t want to hear it,” He interrupts you, a gesture of his hand. “You made the wrong choice. You put yourself in danger when you didn’t need to.”

“If I hadn’t, most of my shieldmaidens would be dead now. We couldn’t fight them directly, Ivar, we had too many wounded.”

He walks past you, the stabs of the crutch on the ground still more forceful than they need to be, and pours himself some mead in one of the unused cups, his back to you.

A deep breath, and before he drinks he offers, “You should have left them behind.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

You move to walk forward, but putting too much weight on your injured leg makes pain shoot through you. You falter, and you try hiding it but you know Ivar notices, judging by the way his eyes narrow.

Still, you insist, slowly walking closer, “What is a few shieldmaidens against all the people we went there to aid? It is a sacrifice we all were willing t-…”

He gestures with his free arm, stopping you, “Well it isn’t a sacrifice I’m willing to make! Not if it costs me you!”

You are stunned into silence, whatever words that were to leave your mouth dying on your lips with a gasp.

Ivar glares at you as if you were somehow responsible for him saying something he hadn’t meant to, a twitch of anger that makes his furrow his nose and his lips press together in a line.

He moves to one of the chairs by the fire, taking a few breaths through his nose that you are sure are meant to be calming but sound equally as angry as before.

You still have nothing to say, no words to leave your lips.

There’s a part of you that never let go of him in all those years you spent -grew- apart, and in these months you have spent with the army, leading your own forces under Ivar and his brothers’ commands, learning from them -from him- many things and offering a few tricks of your own, conquering new lands and fighting new battles; your foolish heart has started to speak of hopes that could never be, has started to feel light like it never did before, as if it and his own heart recognize each other even after all the years and the scars.

Ivar takes a breath, discarding the crutch on the chair by his side.

“I…I never forgot you, you know. Not when you left Kattegat, not when father died and we came to England, not-…I never forgot you,” His eyes linger on yours for a moment, before Ivar turns his head and looks back ahead, clear tell of gritted teeth as he confesses, “I kept an eye on you, through the years. I had men near Ribe when you and your brother fought for it so that they could tell me the outcome of the battle.”

Your heart lurches in your chest, and you slowly take a seat by his side.

“I…I never knew.”

“You weren’t supposed to,” He retorts without missing a beat, hesitating before continuing, “I always hoped we’d meet again. With what I’ve done, with what I’ve accomplished, I hoped that maybe I’d find you again and I could give you enough reasons to stay this time.”

Quietly, you offer, “I never wanted to leave.”

“I know that now,” He assures you, the slightest of movements of his head that you think was supposed to be a nod. Ivar’s eyes lift to yours, and he says, so low you almost miss it, “I just found you again, I can’t…I can’t lose you.”

You don’t know what to say, you don’t know how to put into words what his words are doing to your foolish heart, to the heart that has always been his.

“Ivar…” You start, not certain of what you’re trying to say.

But it doesn’t matter.

Ivar leans forward surprisingly quickly, pressing his lips against yours. The touch of his lips on yours is urgent and hurried, shaky and inexperienced; leaving behind wide blue eyes that look into yours as if desperate for an answer to a question that isn’t a question at all.

You sigh shakily, but your mouth trembles into a smile, and with barely a moment of hesitation, you cross the distance between you again and kiss him, this time deeply, this time eagerly, this time ardently.

There’s the desperation of having lost too much time without this in the way his hold on you is tight and frantic, there’s the anguish of having thought lost you forever in the way your name leaves him in a choked gasp when you part for air, there’s the relief and the elation of finally having you within reach in the way he doesn’t let your lips part from his for any moment, a faint sound of protest from somewhere deep in his chest whenever you pull away.

You finally part but don’t move too far, it seems both of you unwilling to let much space come between you. Breaths labored, you whisper,

“I have wanted to do that for a long time.”

“You have?”

In any other man the question would be a blatant seeking of praise, and maybe it is in him too, but there’s something else too, something more fragile, something more vulnerable. Like some part of him never ceased to be the boy you kissed before you were to leave Kattegat, like some part of him will never truly believe how wanted he can be, how loved.

“I never forgot you either, Ivar,” You confess quietly, lifting the hand you can and tracing the side of his face, the scar on his cheekbone, the scar you claim of your own over his lip. “I could never forget you.”

His smile is awed, and softer than you ever thought it could be, and more boyish than it should be allowed to be for the sake of your foolish heart, that skips a beat in your chest.

With the crackling of fire and the feel of him under your hands, you forget the passing of time, you forget the soreness of your body, you forget everything except him.

You exchange secrets and promises in the shape of kisses that linger always in between adoration and hunger; and after a while, with your fingers trailing absently over the scar on his mouth, you offer your regret.

“I was reckless,” You tell him, resisting the urge to curl the hand on the side of his face into a fist when you notice how much it trembles. “I…I should have retreated. I am sorry.”

“I was…I was stuck here, unable to do anything. I couldn’t go fight with you, I couldn’t go search for you,” There’s the familiar resentment -at the world, at Fate-, and you say nothing, but your hand moves towards the back of his neck and tries to offer a soothing caress. Ivar continues, “I can’t will my stupid legs to work as they should, but I can…I can keep you safe. You have to let me keep you safe.”

“You cannot keep me from death, no one can,” You remind him, before acquiescing, “I promise I…I will be more careful, I will not make pointless sacrifices.”

Even if it wasn’t pointless to you at the time, it is the best way you can word it.

And, judging by the faint and almost shaky nod Ivar offers in acceptance of your words, it was the right thing to say.

____

Ivar had planned to make the journey back to York and raid from there one more time, while matters about his plans to settle in the Isles are solved, and originally you were planning on going with him.

However, he insists you need to rest and heal so he won’t let you fight, and you insist being bedridden will only make you go mad, so you reach a compromise. You and Ivar discuss the details of the agreement as the healer checks the wound on your shoulder, and when he is to leave you notice the way he hesitates before he does, eyes travelling to your lips before meeting yours.

You smile, but then his pale eyes travel to the woman that is cleaning her hands with her back turned to the both of you, and you understand the question.

Being Ivar the Boneless’ woman is not something you would ever feel shame for being, or wish to hide, and though you do have your reservations about what it would mean as a commander of your own share of forces within the Great Army to be so close to one of the sons of Ragnar, you know no fear of rumors is with making Ivar believe you are ashamed of being his.

Instead of voicing your answer to the question he doesn’t ask, you just tilt your chin up, eyes on his.

Ivar’s smile is a tad on the shy side, a tad overwhelmed, but he still dutifully leans down and captures your mouth in his, promising to meet with you again after you’ve spent time with your warriors.

He leaves, and before long, as the healer changes the bandages on your leg and shoulder, you hear the familiar sounds of your friends settling again in the small home. It makes a pang of what you refuse to call regret go through your heart, at the thought of how easily accustomed they are to spending time at this home, waiting to know if you would survive or not.

You take a breath, and walk out to meet them.

Vígdís, one of the elder shieldmaidens, doesn’t even look up from the piece of chicken she is carefully pulling apart with her fingers as she states dryly, “I was betting he would kill you.”

“I’m glad you gals are on my side, really.”

Hlíf swallows a mouthful of chicken and points the drumstick at you, “Hey, I bet you’d kill him.”

You look at her with a frown before conceding, “Actually, that’s flattering.”

She offers a toothy smile, and encourages you, “Yeah, you could take him!”

Vígdís scoffs, “Oh, she wants to,” At your glare the older woman only shrugs one shoulder, “Or the other way around. You don’t have a preference, do you, Dane?”

“Anyhow,” You drawl out, turning to the others, “I suggest you prepare your belongings and say your goodbyes. We won’t raid with Ivar and Hvitserk in these lands, our forces are needed elsewhere. We will be travelling to East Anglia in a fortnight.”

Hlíf scoffs, “One hell of a spat you two had, huh?”

“Wh-…? You know, I really don’t want to hear it. Just…do what you must.”

“I’m just saying, your love life is taking us all over England, Dane.”

“Shut your mouth already.” You grumble, but Hlíf’s brazen laughter resonates in the small home.

____

In the days that go by -way too quickly for your liking- before you are to depart to East Anglia, you find yourself drunk on the foolish happiness of having within reach what you never truly thought you’d have.

It is three nights before you leave that in the quiet of your shared room Ivar presses his lips to yours with a softness that is jarringly unlike him, and breathed over your lips the most hushed I love you.

It was that same night that you tangled your fingers in his hair and drew him back against you, not able or willing to resist the temptation to flick your tongue over the scarred side of his lip to make one of those choked little sounds leave his lips; and when he kissed you back hungrily pulled back to promise the same, just as softly even if you vowed it fiercely, I love you.

And now you are to depart. Standing in the stables and watching as your shieldmaidens and warriors finish loading their belongings and the supplies for the road.

Ivar is next to you, leaning against a wall with an arm secured around your waist and allowing you to rest slightly on his chest.

“Take some of my men with you.” He insists, for what must be the thousandth time since you made the agreement to part until the last month of the spring.

“I don’t need protection,” You remind him, leaning back a bit so you can see his face, “If I remember correctly, and I do, last time it was you who needed help from me.”

“I didn’t need help.”

“Of course not, love.”

Ivar takes a deep breath at your mocking tone, choosing instead to insist, “Just take those men with you.”

“No.” You tell him, one last pat of your hand on his chest before you turn to walk away.

Before you can pull away his free hand grasps yours, and you easily give in to the slight pull, turning back to met him and stepping closer again.

Ivar tilts his head down so he can look you in the eye, something dark and tempting shining through his expression as his mouth curves into a crooked smile.

“I thought wives are supposed to obey their husbands?”

Your heart does a foolish thing in your chest, beating out of rhythm as if trying to leave your chest and burrow into his. Still, you stare him down with your head tilted to the side, and all the answer you offer is a dry reminder,

“‘Countless sons and daughters’, Ivar. If we are holding each other accountable for those promises, we ought to start there.”

He wants to argue, you know he does. And you aren’t entirely convinced some of the warriors that join your forces because they want to aid Ubbe are there at all for him, but you have no evidence, so you shut your mouth and just make sure to keep an eye on them.

As you expected, they act as your bodyguards, no matter how much you try pushing them away.

And so time passes, and in your time on the road towards Soham you are able to heal well enough, slowly getting back to training with Hlíf and Vígdís. And by the time you reach Soham, where Ubbe awaits support to hold on to the city, you are able to fight once again.

And how you dearly missed it.

Time becomes a blur after that. Soham proves to be more difficult to hold than expected, and so your forces remain a while longer before moving to Dunwich where you manage to take over relatively easy, since the Saxon forces retreated from the coastal city.

The years made you capable, and the Gods made you arrogant.

Which is why, as the warriors from Dunwich start retreating, following their Lord’s commands, you, standing still close enough to the edges of the frontlines that Saxons scurry around you, take a knee and pretend to catch your breath.

The footsteps behind you are predictable, and you tighten your hold on the shield. When the warrior gets close enough and tries striking, you lift your shield, catching his arm on the edge of it as you stand up.

You twist your arm holding on to the shield, feeling the strain in his own and hearing his surprised scream of pain.

It snaps out of place under the strain, and satisfied, you let go of him with a push. He stumbles forward and tries grabbing onto a dropped sword with his uninjured arm, and you let him.

Readying your stance, you notice two others refuse to retreat as well now that their countryman is fighting, but make no notice of them as you stride forward, driving your sword through him, ignoring his pitiful attempt at deflecting it.

You approach the other two, shield tightly grasped, and push back against the strike of the first one against your shield, deflecting the sword of the second one with your own.

Making use of your smaller size, you quickly spin in your place and slash the neck of one of them, lifting your shield just in time to stop the attack of the second one.

But he lets out a grunt, falls down before you can kill him. The Saxon falls on his face, an axe protruding from his back.

You lift your eyes to meet those of an unfamiliar warrior, who stands proudly and offers you a nod.

“You’re welcome.”

Walking past him and not bothering to hide your distaste, you insist, “I didn’t need any help, and certainly not from you.”

He proves to be more insistent than you would have thought, and for too many nights you have to bear him sitting close by to you, trying to impress you with one tale or another. The man is unbearably persistent on either bedding you or courting you, and as the days go by after the fight for Dunwich, he proves to not be the only one.

Until, eventually, you can’t take it anymore.

____

“I’m going to need an explanation for that.” Hlíf asks, a broad smile on her lips and eyes shining with mirth.

You grit your teeth and start walking away, but of course she follows.

The winds of East Anglia are biting, and the ground under your feet is still softer and so different than that of your home, but in the time that has passed since you and your warriors joined the Great Army you have learned to be as familiar with this foreign land of England as you once were with your own.

Granted, the incessant waves at the coast and the ever-present sea salt in the air that characterize Dunwich are not something you are planning on getting used to any time soon. You really just want to get back to York.

“I shouldn’t have saved her ass at Soham.” You mutter to yourself, even if you know you don’t mean it.

“I heard that!”

“You proved you have ears, congratulations.”

She skips the few steps she was lagging behind, walking at your side and matching your stride with a wide grin that you choose to ignore.

“Thank you, but I’m married,” She quotes, the mirth coming through in her voice, and she laughs to herself, “Gods above, Dane, what kind of answer is that?”

“He was insistent, and I couldn’t exactly fist fight one of Ubbe’s trusted men,” You explain, your voice a grumble when you add, “Tis not my fault if the prick heard I was a princess and suddenly decided he needed to have me.”

“You sure it was your title? After seeing you fight when we took this city, I’m not surprised so many want you.”

“Hey, I appreciate the compliment, don’t get me wrong,” You quip, sparing a glance to her, “But if you’re trying to court me, I’m afraid it will go as well as it did for Olvir.”

On her lips grows once again the mischievous and devilish smile, and the shieldmaiden tilts her head to the side as she says, “Oh, I know that, because you’re married.”

“I’m not.”

“Then why lie?”

“It wasn’t a lie.”

“If you think you’re making sense, prepare for disappointment.”

You shrug your shoulders, “It’s…complicated.”

“Well, the whole camp will soon hear about you telling Olvir you’re married, so we might as well get the story right: are you taken, Dane?”

Blunt, and to the point, not that you expected anything different from Hlíf.

You consider your words before answer, slowly, “Yes.”

She chuckles, shoulder knocking against yours playfully, “Ah, so who is the fool that has your heart but isn’t staking a claim?”

“He has, you just haven’t noticed.”

She stops walking, and so you too stop, turning to look at her wide eyes and offering a shrug of your shoulders again.

“You mean…” You nod, and past the surprise she finds it in her to laugh, shaking her head in amazement, “Oh, you really are a mad woman, aren’t you?”

“Well, we are technically married. I can’t turn my back on a bond before the Gods, right?”

She shakes her head with a chuckle, “So that is why you have been so insufferable, you miss York. I just thought you really hated East Anglia.”

“I really hate East Anglia.”

“Of course, Dane.”

____

You return to York as dawn breaks, and you don’t have time to get off your horse before Hvitserk is standing there, arms crossed over his chest and leaning with one shoulder on the entrance to the stables.

He offers his older brother a nod of his head as greeting, but Ubbe passes him by and Hvitserk keeps his eyes on you.

He blurts out, “You are married?”

“Hello to you too. I am glad to see you alive and well, dear Hvitserk.”

“You are married.”

You look at him, at his smug little smile and his warm eyes shining with mirth, and take a deep breath.

“You should know, you were there at the wedding.”

His sniggering laughter follows you as you walk away, but you forget your irritation quite quickly as you find Ivar in the rustle of movement, determined and uneven steps carrying him towards you.

Your smile is wide and lovesick and foolish, but you do not care for hiding it. His is quieter, more secret, but it doesn’t fail to make your heart skip a beat in your chest.

Ivar’s free hand grasps at the back of your neck once you are close enough, bringing your mouth to his with urgency, quickly letting the kiss become passionate as he slips his tongue into your mouth. Your hands find purchase on his hips, and more than ever you hate the armor that doesn’t let you feel him his warmth, his strength- under your fingers.

“I missed you.” You whisper quietly when you part, your brow pressed against his.

He blinks his eyes open, more than a little dazed, and the look in his eyes -the need, the adoration, the everything- makes a pang of heat go through you, threaten to set you alight with only a look.

“And I you.” He finally tells you, quiet voice rough.

You barely have time to be alone with Ivar before obligations pull you apart, a feast to welcome back the forces Ubbe and the Princess of Ribe, a reunion to exchange tales of victory and be together with those that were missed in the months apart.

Granted, that means that they don’t let you be together with the one you missed the most in those months apart, but you don’t have it in you to complain. Except you do, but that is not the point.

The night dies down and you roll your eyes at a few pointed toasts in congratulations for your marriage, but remain sitting at your place beside Ivar, pretending not to notice his hand on your knee or his arm around the back of your chair.

You grab his hand when it starts trailing up your leg and making you feel the effects of his touch like lightning crawling over your skin, and you could swear the smug bastard chuckles at the way you have to stop him.

“Eh, sister!” Hvitserk calls out, and with gritted teeth you turn to look at him, sitting by Sigurd’s side with an arm over his brother’s shoulders, “I am glad you are back, truly.”

“Thank you, Hvitserk.” You tell him, immediately feeling like you are about to regret accepting he doesn’t mean to tease you any longer.

“If only because I cannot stand my brother’s moping any longer. Who would have thought a son of Ragnar would be so loyal to his wife?”

You dismiss him with a gesture, but you cannot help but chuckle alongside the others.

Ivar turns his head towards you, nose almost nuzzling at your hair as he moves closer to speak by your ear,

“Why did you tell people you’re married?”

You don’t lift your gaze from your joined hands, following the trace of your fingers as they trace over the back of Ivar’s hand, “So that they would leave me alone.”

“No one is leaving you alone now that they think you are my wife.”

You spare him a look, glancing up, “The men that insist on either bedding me or courting me will, and that is enough for me.”

Ivar, of course, clings only to part of the words you speak, and his voice lowers, expression hardened with what you would swear is jealousy -pointless, unfounded, stupid jealousy- as he asks,

“Who are these men?”

Your eyes narrow, you honestly cannot believe this man.

“Are you serious right now?”

“I just want to know who they are.”

“I-…” Running your free hand through over your face, you bite back a groan, “Everyone thinks we are married now, shouldn’t you be worrying about that?”

He shrugs, “You were the one that told them you are married.”

“You are the one that I told them I’m married to!” You tell him, exasperated. He says nothing, and in the two blinks that he offers you somehow find it in you to be even more offended, “You truly are not worried?”

“Why should I be?”

Slowly, you remind him, “We are not actually married, Ivar.”

He shrugs, “We could be.”

“But we aren’t.”

“But we could be.” He insists easily.

Deep breaths, you tell yourself, taking a moment to bite back irritation, you love him, even when he is being intentionally insufferable.

“Is this your way of asking me to marry you?”

“You seem to have done that for me already,” He replies instead, raised eyebrows and another shrug of his shoulders that only makes you angrier. “You seem to have done more than that.”

You sigh, and shake your head at his mocking, only to make him chuckle at your reaction. Gods, he is infuriating.

Ivar’s smile loses the mocking edge as he leans even close, pressing a soft kiss by the side of your mouth in an attempt to make you stop pretending to be angry.

“What’s the harm in that, hm?” He asks, eyes falling from yours to your lips when you finally turn your head to face him, “They know you’re mine now.”

You almost want to argue there’s no way they wouldn’t know judging by the way the two of you have been joined at the hip since you returned from Dunwick, but you won’t deny a part of you grows darkly proud at knowing everyone knows he is yours and yours alone.

“And you are mine.” You remind him lowly, the beginning of a smile on your lips. His eyes linger on the curve of your mouth, lids growing a little heavier at your words and tone, and you have never felt more powerful.

Ivar nods his head,

“I am, wife.”

____

As you come down from both of your highs you find out Ivar is as unwilling to relinquish the closeness as you are, and in between soft touches and breathed presses of lips on heated skin, you find a kind of peace you never realized how much you missed.

“I was thinking,” He starts, and you cannot stop yourself from teasing him, so you let out a soft, uh-oh, and he scoffs, biting down on the side of your neck in retaliation, “We will be settled in the Isles by next winter.”

Ivar pulls back to look at you, holding himself up on one of his arms. At the strange expression in his pale eyes, you reach up with one hand and caress the side of his face under the guise of moving his hair back.

“We will.”

“Let’s go back to Kattegat,” He tells you, a tad rushed, “For this winter. Let’s spend one last winter in Kattegat.”

“Are you homesick, love?” You drawl, a side smile that he rolls his eyes at.

“What do you say?”

You search his gaze, because something tells you there’s more to the question, more to the action of spending your winter in Kattegat.

You won’t lie and pretend you haven’t missed the town, you won’t lie and pretend the memories you made there aren’t still with you, kept safe by some nostalgic and soft part of your heart.

Fate has a funny way of working, you’ve learned, and time brought you back to the side of the boys you made so many of those memories alongside of. Time brought back to you the cadence of Sigurd’s voice as he hums in par with his oud, time brought back to you Ubbe’s easy companionship as you train together, time brought back to you the secret smiles you share with Hvitserk over a joke only the two of you know of. Time brought back to you the one you’ve loved since before you even knew what love was, brought back to you the heart that your own finds itself familiar with.

But there is a part of you that misses Kattegat and always will, the sinuous streets of your childhood, the foreign scents and sounds of the bubbling market.

Instead of giving your answer outright -you always did like making things harder than they have to be-, you muse aloud,

“Having married you when we were children should keep me safe from your mother’s wrath, shouldn’t it?”

“Wrath?”

You let your fingers trace over the scar over his lip, the one you are very much responsible for. In these last few months, you’ve grown quite fascinated with it, with how it stretches when he smiles one of those big and crooked smiles, and especially with how Ivar trembles when you run your tongue over it before kissing him.

But that is not the point.

The point is you are very much responsible for at least one of the new scars Aslaug’s youngest son bears, and she will know, and she will look at you in that way you remember from your younger years. It is enough to make a grown woman shiver.

Ivar chuckles as he understands your hesitation, “You don’t need to fear her.”

“Easy for you to say.” You scoff.

“And if I tell you she still remembers fondly that childish wedding? Will you agree to come then, hm?”

“No,” At his frustrated sigh you tighten your fingers on his hair in silent reprimand, “Now I know you’re just saying that to appease me.”

“I would never.” Ivar mocks, earning another tug of his hair that he breathes a laugh at. You don’t fail to notice the way the laugh stutters a bit past his lips, you are very much aware of your effect of your hands on him.

Said effect is very much evidenced in the way he doesn’t resist the temptation to lean down and steal your breath with the slowest of kisses, his nose nudging against yours softly before he speaks again, voice low,

“What if it wasn’t just that wedding?”

“W-What?”

His eyes open to look into yours, an edge of anxiety, of hesitation, that he -of course- pushes past anyways, clearing his throat and asking, “What if there were something more…permanent than that wedding from our childhood?”

“Are you asking me to marry you?”

“A second and last time.” He vows, a quirk of his mouth that speaks of jest but does nothing to hide the apprehension that shines in his eyes.

There was never anyone else, not for you and not for him.

Your answer leaves your lips in a breath that Ivar doesn’t hesitate to taste against your lips, with a gentleness that speaks of adoration and desperation, stealing your breath much in the same way he stole your heart.

____

Aslaug almost wants to laugh at the irony that it was the youngest of her boys that was the first one the be married, not once, but two times. And, surprising only those that don’t know him well enough, to the same woman both times.

Older but still holding that arrogant pride at the announcement -the same pride she saw in him when you walked Kattegat’s streets with your hand in Ivar’s- Ivar sat down in front of her and told her he had found a woman he wanted to marry.

And her heart felt a surge of a warmth she had long since missed with all her sons fighting their wars and their father’s across the sea; not willing or capable to hold back the wide smile that blossomed in her face.

Her hands cupped her son’s face, and the small, almost shy smile he offered her reminded her so much of the boy he once was. She promised her blessing and vowed how proud she was, and in silence, as she looked into her youngest son’s eyes, she thanked the Gods for being allowed to live to see this, to see him happy.

She knows there are so many twists of Fate that have let this happen. She knows -like she knows the streets of her kingdom- of the paths their son’s life could have taken, almost took. She knows of yours, and what could have been.

Even if she hadn’t heard of your close encounter with death in England, she would have the moment she was forced to see in her dreams what had happened across the sea, she would have the moment she saw the way it still haunted Ivar today.

For almost two weeks she dreamt of her son’s voice, the same repeated pleas to the Gods -to whatever would listen- said so many times his voice grew ragged and broke. Still, he did the one thing he could, and pleaded with the Gods for more time, for anything other than this.

He needn’t know she went to the Volür and they all made a sacrifice praying with the Gods to give a Dane shieldmaiden strength and health. He needn’t know, and he won’t.

Because it is past now, and you have healed and learned, and he has healed too. And there is no use in resurfacing pain in an occasion such as this.

Kattegat is lively even as winter approaches fast and cruel, the flurry of motion increased even more now that a Prince is to get married.

Your smile is the same mad little smile she remembers from your younger years in Kattegat, and Helga’s hands are more worn and her smile is a tad dimmer, but her fingers are still nimble and gentle as they braid the wedding crown of winter flowers.

Aslaug feels the pull of emotion when Ivar cups your face between trembling hands and kisses his wife for the first time, she feels the tears prickling at her eyes at the lovesick smiles on your faces as you remain in that moment after a kiss for a few breaths, eyes locked together and futures intertwined.

Ubbe stands tall as he watches his younger brother get married, and Aslaug’s heart grows warm at the easy smile that curves her son’s lips. She still cannot help herself, and finds herself hoping before winter is over and her sons are to depart from her side again, that she can see him with a woman by his side as well. For too long Ubbe carried a burden he shouldn’t have, shouldering the brunt of the world for the sake of his brothers, a boy trying to stand as tall as the man that left an absence in his place after Paris. Even if she once argued she cares not if they find love as long as they find a good woman to breed and form a family with, she holds the secret hope that she can see Ubbe happily settled with someone that he can love.

She hopes the same for Hvitserk, who watches the ceremony with a smile that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners, but she knows better than to expect him to settle anytime soon. Before the celebratory feast is halfway over, he has teasingly held a young girl to his side and exclaimed, mother, I am getting married as well, three times, with three different women. She doesn’t hold much hope he will settle soon, and has to bite her tongue and tell herself she is happy for him even if he insists on sleeping his way through Kattegat.

Reluctantly, she admits it is Sigurd who might follow in Ivar’s footsteps and marry next. He and that Christian girl have been promised to one another for years now, and the excuse of war and distance has kept them safe from their obligations to marry. But Aslaug knows it is a matter of time. For all her demure and shy nature, Blaeja’s eyes shine with something like amazement as she takes in the wedding ceremony even if a faint blush covers her face at yours and Ivar’s displays of affection. And she won’t pretend she doesn’t notice the way Sigurd lingers close to the princess, irradiating that gentleness of him that Aslaug is still regretful for having made so fragile in her carelessness.

Winter lets her have all her sons with her, though she knows it is probably the last time. Ivar has plans to settle in the Isles, the title of king and the promise of advantageous positions for his war against Alfred enough of a lure to keep her son across the sea; Ubbe has intentions to settle and take families with him to England even if he has to wade through blood to do so, Sigurd won’t stay too long away from his princess anymore, and Hvitserk will nevr bear to stay apart from his brothers.

But she has this winter, and it is enough. She will sit with her sons and have dinner while they talk and argue and laugh, and she will hear Ivar and Sigurd go for each other’s throats as if they haven’t spent these years fighting side by side, and she will watch you and Ivar get drunk on nothing but each other, and she will thank the Gods for all of it.

____ ____ ____

Thank you for reading, I apologize if this isn’t very good, I tried my best. Love ya!

Taglist: @youbloodymadgenius​ @xbellaxcarolinax @1950schick @ietss @peachyboneless @encounterthepast @maggiescarborough @chibisgotovalhalla @fae-sedai @zuxiezendler @crazybunnyladysworld   @stupiddarkkside @northumbria @aprilivar

[starxscream]

Color-Coded Deck

“ Once again Rouxls challenges Swatch to a battle of wits- though this time it doesn't exactly go as planned. “

SwatchKaard fic!

Bc I saw that there were none and so I had to do smth about it, click the read more to view! (Also check it out on ao3 if it’s easier for y’all to read there!

It had been another long day at the cafe, working various loud-mouthed customers that seemed never ending in Castle Town.  Swatch has to wonder if moving out here was worth it, putting up with some of the patrons here almost made it not.  The bird sighs, making the final rounds while the swatchlings finish cleaning up for the night.  As the final chores and tasks are completed, Swatch excuses the swatchlings to head home and rest for tomorrow, staying behind to finish up the managerial paperwork.  There was always more work to do, and Swatch had no time to rest until it was completed.  Such was life.  The same routine that they were so accustomed to, it didn't truly bother them really.  In fact, Swatch enjoyed the brief moment of quiet and privacy of being alone in the cafe.

As the last swatchling exits, Swatch double checks the store before meandering towards to flip the sign from "open" to "closed".  However, as they move to flip the sign, there's a glowing flash of light, causing Swatch to lift his arm to block out the glare before it dissipates.  Oh no.  A feeling of knowing dread nestles in their gut.

Before Swatch can react, a blue hand rattles the door, pushing it against Swatch who had finally moved to try and hold it shut.  Of COURSE it just had to be him…

A loud shrill voice echoes through the crack in the door, "Greetings thou most commonest worm-avian! I haveth decided to graceth thine nighteth with thy presence!" Swatch inwardly groans, releasing the door and taking a step back to allow the other to dramatically swing it open and saunter through the now open doorway.

Rouxls Kaard.

Truly, could Swatch ever catch a break?

"What might you be doing here Kaard? Need I remind you that you have been banned from the premises."  Swatch crosses their arms across their chest, false niceties dripping off of their voice, trying not to let their impatience shine through.

Rouxls tuts, wagging a finger in the air, "That waseth at thou previousth establishmente, whiche waseth the highesteth forme of slandereth I haveth ever been subjectedeth too mindeth thou, howevereth, I haveth not been bannedeth here! So thy musteth allowth my graciouse presence to be bestowedeth upon thy grounds." A smug look sits on his face, chest puffed out proudly, 'sneakily' gesturing to the sign that was still flipped to "open".

Swatch resists rolling his eyes, a part of them wondering if Rouxls even knew the cafe's hours...probably not.  Though they supposed Rouxls was right, he had not been banned from this cafe.  Maybe he would be within the upcoming days, it was inevitable really, but for now he wasn't and Swatch was left with their hands full.  With a sigh, they consider trying to explain that to Rouxls, but they figure that Rouxls wouldn't listen to that...whenever the self acclaimed "duke of puzzles" set his mind on something there was no way to get him to listen to anything else.  Swatch knew that firsthand.

"Well, here you are then...arriving just as I was closing.  What can I do for you Kaard?" Swatch keeps it simple, but not without a small jab, moving his arms behind his back, standing straight with his beak perked up just slightly.  A mixture of professionalism and their own pettiness that made them want to show off how much better he was, especially around Rouxls.  They wouldn't admit it, but they did enjoy the competition that Rouxls consistently brought to their doorstep…that is, if you could call it a competition.

Grin widening, Rouxls whips out a foreign deck of cards, sauntering past Swatch, and slamming it down onto a nearby table.  Then he spins on his heel to face Swatch once again, face nearly splitting into two with how wide his grin was, and threads his fingers together.  Swatch raises a single eyebrow, gaze looking over the strange deck of cards, before looking back at Rouxls, awaiting whatever long-winded explanation that was about to be given.

“I have cometh to challengeth thee to a duelth of wits!” Rouxls makes a grand gesture towards the table, "Thoust three heroes bestowedeth upon thy a gift,” Meaning, Rouxls probably whined until they gave it to him, “A supremeth gifte thou shalt not be wastedeth!  I shall knocketh thou offeth thine pedestalth like a batteringeth rame knockingeth downeth thy castle doorsth! ” He motions for Swatch to sit down at one end of the table, waiting expectantly with shining eyes.  Swatch opts not to say that a battering ram knocks open doors and not off, but that was their petty side talking.

Inhaling deeply, Swatch slowly moves over to the seat, placing a hand on the seat and pulling it out.  Sure the polite thing to do was pull the seat out for Rouxls- as was their job, but they were not going to give Rouxls that satisfaction.  His eyes bore into Rouxls, half expecting the guy to pull out another handful of worms and run off, but he seemed much too invested in the task at hand.  Always with the games and puzzles that one, truly Swatch had to wonder how many times would Rouxls have to lose before he gives up?

“I foughte againsteth thy three heroes valiantlyth, takingeth thou on in thine own gameth.  Sucheth a nobleth duty of thy to do, no?” Rouxls laughs, swiftlying moving to the seat across from Swatch, “Twas a longe and arduousth battle of brainse, and beingeth thy generouse and benevolenteth soul thy am, could not beareth to standeth thy thoughte of thrashingeth thine darling water-beetle’s closesteth allies.  So I humbledeth thyself and allowedeth thine three hereos to besteth thy in battleth unscathedeth to spareth thine ailsth.”  Meaning, Rouxls utterly lost.

“So you...‘valiantly’ turned tail and came crawling to me instead?” Swatch lets out a quiet scoff, unable to keep it contained at Rouxls’ blatant attempt to save face when anyone who knew Rouxls would know better than to believe the theatrics he was spouting.  Easing himself into the chair, Swatch crosses his arms across his chest, “Alright then, I can spare a moment on your childish games.  Would you care to explain the rules of the game you have so dutifully brought to my doorstep while I was trying to close up shop for the night?  I would like to get this over with so that I may go home.”

Rouxls’ eyes narrow at Swatch, dramatically pointing across the table over at the bird, “Thou do not intimidateth me worm-avian!” Rouxls huffs, “Our battleth will be througheth the mighty gameth of what thy lightenereths call “Uno”!  Whereupon thy willeth finally proveth my titleth of butler supremeth over thy worm-avian!”  His point moves towards the deck, “Draweth foulest beast!”

Swatch makes no indication of moving, “I cannot draw if I do not know how to play, or are you resorting to needing unfair advantages to win?  Truly, I expected more from you...” The bird trails off, feigning a sigh, watching Rouxls’ face light up in a vibrant embarrassed flush.  He was so easy to read...it was kind of amusing really.  A small smirk etches onto Swatch’s face at the sight.

“Of couseth not! I wouldeth never bringeth thy illesteth omens upon thy nameth!  I haveth no need for sucheth ‘advantages’, thy willeth win no mattereth the circumstanceseth of oureth battleth as thy am thy grand duke of puzzles!”  Rouxls covers for his mistake quickly, moving to cover the back of his hand with his mouth, “As for thine rules…” He hesitates for a moment, thinking, “I...shalt not wasteth my time explaining! Thereth is rule cardeths for a reason!” The irony…  Rouxls paws at the deck, pulling out the card with the written words littered over its surface, before sliding it towards Swatch.

“Make haste! I do not haveth all nighte.” Rouxls puffs out his chest, arrogance dripping from his voice.  Swatch gives Rouxls a cold glare at his words, a part of them still bitter they were the one being kept up this fine night.  Quickly Swatch skims over the rules of this ‘Uno’ game, a simple color and symbol type of card game- first to get rid of all the cards in their hands wins.  Easy enough.

“Alright, daresay I believe that I am ready now.”  Swatch carefully sets the card back down on the table, reaching over to draw seven cards off of the top of the deck.  There was a wide arrangement of colors, mostly blue ironically, and a couple of special cards with effects that they would need to play strategically.  After Swatch draws his cards, Rouxls quickly follows suit, flipping over the top card to reveal a green number card to begin the game.

“With thy graciouseth self, I shalt allow thee to make thy first moveth!” Rouxls confidently announces, leaning forward with a tight grip on his cards.  Swatch rolls his eyes again, looking over his hand and rubbing the bottom of his beak with his free hand.  Then, without a word he places another green number card on top of the discard pile, a simple play to begin with.

The game continues on like this for a few rounds, with every turn Rouxls announcing how great he was or how he was going to win and Swatch shooting back with some sort of rebuttal that only served to fluster and make Rouxls even more agitated.  Swatch isn’t sure why he liked poking at Rouxls as much as he did, truly Rouxls was the only one who managed to consistently break through his customer service facade.

It was...nice Swatch supposed.  As idiotic as Rouxls was and his constant pestering to try and best Swatch, it was nice.  A break in an otherwise methodical and boring day.  As much as Swatch hated to admit it, they had grown to have fun playing with Rouxls.

However, the peaceful part of the game soon came to an end when Swatch placed down a draw two card onto the discard pile as Rouxls hand seemed to lessen with every turn, complete with the biggest smirk on their face.

“Now, if you could please draw, I can make my next move.”  The bird hums, watching in curiosity as Rouxls sputters, slamming his hands on the table.

“Whateth is this sorceryeth!?” Rouxls glares at the cards as if they were the ones at fault, “Why musteth I loseth my turne? Draweth two!?” He huffs indignantly, Swatch raising an eyebrow.

“...You read the rules too, didn’t you Kaard? Being the ‘grand duke of puzzles’ yourself, surely you know about the special cards, right?” Their voice drips with faux sympathy, sounding more condescending than nice, Swatch stifling a chuckle at the sudden turn of events.

The rule card sits open on the table, Rouxls glancing between it and Swatch with a growing scowl on his face.

“Of courseth I know thy rules! I haveth bestedeth the most strongesteth beings in thy battleth of Uno!” Rouxls mind whirs in thought, “Thy justeth...won so quickly thateth card nevereth neededeth to be usedeth!” With a burning embarrassed flush once against rising to his face, Rouxls quickly covers his own ineptitude at the game, having bitterly come here after losing to the three heroes to try and best Swatch once again to try and lick his wounds.  

Rouxls snatches the rule card after that, Swatch covering his mouth as they let out a snicker while Rouxls quickly skims through it.  After a few moments, Rouxls throws the card back down, once again puffing out his chest.

"I shalt do this draweth two as thou cards stateth, but feareth not! Thy shalt stille remaineth victoriouse in the endth!" Rouxls swipes at the deck, a little frustrated if Swatch had to guess, gripping the cards in his hand even tighter.

Frustration of the evening having long since melted into amusement, Swatch rests an elbow onto the table to use his hand to keep his head propped up as he continues to play.  Carefully setting another card onto the pile, Rouxls following suit a little too fast.

"I am afraid that this little game will end how it always does, though, I suppose that is why you challenged me after everyone left.  Couldn't bear to take the bitter taste of defeat in the face of the public again, could you?" Swatch begins to idly speak, deciding to make some conversation even if it sounded more like he was targeting Rouxls.  Truthfully they just wanted to see how the man would react, it was always so entertaining to see Rouxls theatrics in action when he wasn't purposefully being a thorn in your side, and Swatch found it more amusing than they should.

Rouxls laughs haughtily, gaze focused onto his cards as he keeps playing, "Fool! I wouldeth happily beeneth a target for thine adoringeth publice, howevereth I waseth ever so busyeth with thy duties of greateth importanceth that I hadeth to scavengeth thine timeth to graceth thee withe thy prescenceth.  Thou shouldeth be gratefule thy oh-so busyeth scheduleth allowede it!"  Truthfully he had been lurking around the outside of the cafe for hours, procrastinating and planning out his "grand entrance" until the store had reached closing.  So alas, here they were.  Sure the patronizing laughter when Rouxls had lost prior bothered him but there was no way he was going to let Swatch be right!

"Ah yes, lucky me." Swatch deadpans, smirk still hanging on their beak, "I cannot imagine how else I would like to be spending my evening.  Why would I want to be relaxing at home after a long day of work when I could be playing a silly card game with you?"  The chirp, sarcasm edging in their words.

"Tsk tsk, thee are justeth afraide of losingeth.  Thou can admite it!"  Rouxls slams another card down.  "For I shall  sooneth claime thy victory in oneth fell swoopeth, prepare thyself worm-avian!"

Swatch scoffs, "Afraid of losing to you? My apologies Kaard, but something actually has to be a reality for me to be scared of it." Rouxls, childishly, sticks out his tongue.  He would not claim it to be childish if you called it out, however.

Setting his own card down, Swatch calls out 'Uno', holding his single card in his grasp.  Meanwhile Rouxl still had multiple cards left, there was no chance of him winning.

Yet somehow, Rouxls hadn't started throwing a fit yet.  Usually when it was clear he was to lose, he would get even more rambunctious than usual- yet this time Rouxls still had his cocky grin, staring at his cards.  Swatch's smirk fades, eyes narrowing, knowing that the other man was up to something.  Of course it wasn't a normal card game, this was Rouxls, something unexpected always happens with him around.

The bird tenses, awaiting the surprise bound to happen.  Rouxls grin gets wider, before he cackles wildly, "Aha! Thou hasn't madeth thine finale moveth! I, Rouxls Kaard, shalt noweth claime thy victory!" Swatch's eyebrows furrowed together, there was no possible way-

Rouxls slams down a red skip card atop the red number card.

Swatch skips his turn, Rouxls putting down a red draw two card- causing Swatch to skip his turn again.  He hesitantly reaches over to draw two cards.

There's no way…

Rouxls tosses down another draw two card, this time in green.  Swatch's grip on his cards get ever tighter as they stare at the pile of discarded cards.

"I dareth say this is wheneth thy say 'Uno'!" Rouxls says triumphantly, Swatch's gaze snapping up in disbelief.  Their beak opens and shuts again, dragging two more cards off of the deck.

"Sayeth thou prayers worm-avian! For tonighte, I reigneth victoriouse!" Swatch watches Rouxls dramatically leap from his seat, pushing the chair back, and slamming down his final card with all the energy in his being.

The card was to choose your own color and draw four cards.  The biggest insult to injury that the game of Uno could give.

Swatch stares in utter shock- he had...actually lost.  Rouxls had actually made a good play and won the game.  Rouxls Kaard did.  The guy who could barely craft a feasible puzzle on his own- outwitting them of all people.  It was an impossibility, and yet, here it was staring Swatch in the face.

Amidst the frustration of losing, Swatch couldn't help but feel...impressed.  That is, until Rouxls starts speaking again.

"There!! Noweth thou see thine wretchedeth worm-avian! Thy am superiore to thou inst everyeth way!  Everytimeth before noweth has beeneth nothing moreth than a fluketh!  For this is thy proveth!  I am trulye bettereth than thou!" He laughs loudly, kicking a foot onto the chair seat and propping himself up into a pose with one hand on his hip and one covering his laughter. "Henceforth thou shalt bowe downeth and call me butler supremethe, thy grand duke of puzzles- Rouxls Kaard!"  A pause in his triumph, looking over at Swatch, " ...Thou hearest me lesser worm-avian?"

Swatch sets down his card, controlled, carefully.  Rouxls boasting makes the guy much less impressive and instead Swatch simmers into annoyance and frustration.  Rouxls got lucky.  And Swatch was never going to hear the end of it.  A scowl breaks his beak in half as he stands stiffly upright, keeping it shut to not say anything without thinking it through first.  Every motion was so strictly controlled, his thoughts whirling around and around until-

Swatch was never going to hear the end of it...unless…

They get an idea, sure it was going to be demeaning and incredibly out of poor taste in Swatch's opinion- but it would be better than anyone finding out about their loss to Rouxls.  Besides, after working for the Queen, demeaning had lost its meaning to Swatch.  At least this time they were going to be the one in control.  So a distraction, enough embarrassment so where Rouxls never wants to talk about this moment to anyone.

Swatch steps out from the table, moving over towards the side Rouxls was on, who merely stared at them in confusion.

Abruptly in one smooth motion, Swatch bows to Rouxls, who they can hear sputter in surprise.  A pleased grin appears on Swatch's beak, hidden from sight.

"I surely hope that will suffice, butler supreme.  You are truly the duke of puzzles, Sir Rouxls Kaard, unmatched in his fantastical puzzle prowess." Swatch pulls himself upright, feeling the grating feeling of forced praise and ridiculous titles being pulled from his throat.  However, the look on Rouxls face was worth it- the bug-eyed look of pure shock combined with the fact his cocky smirk had been replaced with a nervous smile- all the while his face seemed to be a darker blue than usual.  Oh this was worth it.

"Uh...Yes!  Thou is correcteth and shouldeth now understande thou place beneatheth me! I maketh the ordereth now worm-avian, thou can no longere banneth thy from thou fineth establishmente and musteth admiteth always thateth thy am forevere bettereth than thou! Lest thou suffereth thy crippling humilationeth of thou defeate once moreth." Stepping off of the chair, Rouxls manages to get out, his voice wavering at the start- a crack in his carefully portrayed persona.  Startled by how...well Swatch was taking it- he had expected him to get mad or bite back or just...something.  This wasn't like their usual banter at all and Rouxls wasn't sure what was going on.

Swatch listens intently, nodding along to show that they were listening.  Even if they, personally, thought it to be pure nonsense, they did not let it show.

Their head so carefully tilts to the side for a moment, "Beneath you?" They coo, taking a calculated step forward into Rouxls space.

An arm casually snakes around Rouxls waist, pulling the smaller man closer.  He lets out a surprise squeak- trying to stammer out something before he is shushed by Swatch's next words, "Would you not prefer to be side by side? After all, you have proven yourself to be better than I- your chosen adversary since the day we met." He chuckles, "With how obsessed you are with me, dare I say you were trying to court me- hm?" A soft chuckle lingers on his lips as he watches Rouxls nearly melt out of pure flustered nerves.

It was…

Hm. Cute. For Rouxls.

"WHAT? I AM NOT-" Rouxls gasps, much louder than intended, his smarmy accent seemingly fading for a moment before he gulps for a breath trying to readjust himself, "Do not thinketh so highly of thouself! I couldeth care lesse abouteth thou, thy games were merelyeth a simpleth pastime, a pleasureth that thy bestowedeth upon thou!"

Leaning ever so closer to Rouxls, Swatch's voice lowers, a quiet coo for Rouxls' ears only, "Then why is it you always throw a fit when I'm too busy to play with you?  You claim to just want to prove you're better than me, but you've done that now, so what next? Honestly, Rouxls, just spare us the trouble and tell me how you really feel."

A hum.

"If you just wanted to go on dates you could have simply asked." It's said with a wink.

Rouxls chokes, and Swatch thinks they finally have this under control, soon to be wrapped up in a nice pretty bow.  Sure was this a little cruel? Perhaps, but Swatch kept finding it so damn endearing, it was frustrating.  So selfishly wanting to see more of Rouxls' reactions.

But of course, this was Rouxls Kaard they were talking about here.  When did anything involving him go as planned?

Suddenly there are hands grabbing the side of their head, and Swatch can feel his feathers poof out in surprise at the sudden motion.  Before they can react, Rouxls practically slams his forehead into Swatch's, keeping it there and pressing hard as if to challenge the bird.

"Thou sauveth trickery shalt not wortheth on I!" Rouxls announces, before adding his own rebuttal, "Maybe THOU is thee one courting I? Thou claim to be bettereth than I but hereth you stand, arm arounde thy waist.  If thou really haveth better thingeths to do, theneth why are thou hereth and noteth at thou homestead?" 

The two were impossibly close now, pressed together as a different kind of tension fills the air around them.  Swatch can feel Rouxls panting shaky breaths on his beak, the man's false confidence easily seen through, yet- Swatch stutters.  And they never stutter.

Then suddenly- his arms are empty and the simple touch is gone as soon as it had started, and Swatch let out a breath they hadn't realized they had been holding.

"Alas, I am sureth thy leech of a darlingeth prince needs thy attentione!" Rouxls skitters towards the door, "I bideth thee a bittersweet adieu! For now thee willeth be without thine majestic presenceth, whicheth I am sureth you shalt miss.  However, I must informeth thou that I, Rouxls Kaard, willeth not be easily impressedeth with thy simplest flatteries..." He pauses in his escape, looking back at Swatch before glancing down at the floor looking a little...unsure, adding on just a little quieter, "But I shalt be backe, I may haveth won thy battle, but not thy war- so...uh...prepareth thouself for thy return!"

With his final words, which were possibly just an excuse to keep seeing Swatch even though he's already gotten his win, Rouxls escapes through the door and flees faster than Swatch had ever seen him move before.  The bird just...watches him go, dumbfounded at the sudden turn of events.

Swatch stands there for a moment, blinking, wondering if that even just happened.  Rouxls rebuttal swirling around in his brain, them? Courting Rouxls?  A ridiculous assumption, entirely out of left field.  And yet…

Swatch sighs, smoothing down his ruffled feathers, Rouxls was right- if Swatch wanted to they could have easily booted out the nuisance and went home.  Yet, Swatch played Rouxls game.  And every game before.  The bird’s fingers flex, still feeling the faint ghost of Rouxls in his grip, as if it were haunting them- taunting them really.

…

Swatch rubs his face with a hand, a flush rising to his cheeks.  This whole time they had thought they were the one in control, but unfortunately they had long gotten swept up in the uncontrollable whirlwind that was Rouxls Kaard.

[nsfsprince]

An a/b/o idea thats taken over the brain that I wish to write:

Intruxietlogical A/B/O au that's set in a manor or smth?

Theres Alpha!Logan(cismale), head of the manor and a very rich yet young and respectable individual of the city. Hes like 6'4 and handsome as hell, and secretly knows it(due to Remus's persistent courting) but sees no point in personally flaunting it, letting Remus take the lead in that.

Then theres his eccentric Omega spouse, Remus(nonbinary leaning with he/him pronouns), the (in)famous artist of the city. Hes unusually tall for an Omega at 5'10, crude and unworried about fitting the 'normal' societal omega expectation despite also being born to a rich family. He courted Logan, persistantly, as he loved the fact that Logan treated him with the same respect as he would anyone else and never judged Remus for who he was, and the more Logan accepted the courting the more they fell in love before marrying and bonding at like. 23-25?

Well, Virgil is a 5'1 omega(transman with he/him pronouns), age 24. Hes a feisty little thing thats been surviving the streets for too long, he's parentless and, his high anxiety keeps him safer than most omegas on their own but no ones perfect- he ends up almost getting abducted by a sketchy Alpha when a Beta named Patton storms in and saves him.

That's how Patton, Logan's brother, takes him in to treat the sprained wrist he got from the encounter, and for Remus to set eyes on Virgil and immediately decide he wants to keep and court him, too.

I could ramble alot about the months it takes for remus to flirt and fluster and break Virgil out of his shy terrified shell(because hes gone from interacting with fellow street raccoons to very weathy and very Pretty nobility and its. A Lot.

I could ramble about the way both Remus and Logan coax Virgil into staying in their home for more and more ludicrously simple reasons, just to keep courting him, and how Virgil catches on, and flusteredly does nothing to stop it bc he's slowly falling in love too

But what I Really wanna ramble about, is their bedroom dynamics.

Content warning for under the cut: a/b/o dynamics, talk/descriptions of knotting, polyamourus relationships, kinks. Lots of kinks: oralfixation, dom/sub/switch dynamics, praise kink, overstim(lots of overstim), talk of double penatration, p in v sex, ect. Let me know if i missed anything!

MINORS DNI or you will be fully blocked from this blog and my main one.

Logan is a soft but firm dom, always in control and ready to take control. He has a bit of an oral fixation and loves sucking off his loves as often as he can, happy to sate his loves while getting them to soak themselves in fresh slick. He's easily comanding when needed but also enjoys that Remus is more than willing to take control on occasion(see: regularly). He just really really likes taking care of his loves however he can, and aftercare is super important especially after some of their more intense scenes

Remus is a bossy switch, who Loves riding Logan's cock till hes stuck on his knot, or getting fucked up against a wall till his mind turns to jelly. Really likes a bit of primal play, loves riling Logan up with praising how good Logan could breed him(even tho theyre all on birth control so it really is just for the scenes) if he just pins him down and takes. On the flip side, Re also loves pinning Virgil down and driving him crazy, too.

Virgil is a near complete submissive, he's eagar to give and take as ordered and melts at any praise given. Starting out he'd been touch straved beyond belief(which has since been remedied thoroughly) and thus ended up developing a habit of dropping into subspace the moment Logan and/or Remus cradle his neck with both hands. Hes a very affectionate sub who puts so much of his trust and control into Logan and Remus's hands, and both cherish it as Virgil literally never lets his guard down around anyone else.

So, my favorite thing about their dynamic is that Remus still has a decent sized cock despite being an omega, like is actually rather big for Virgil to take, the draw back is just that Remus cant, at least naturally, Knot Virgil like Logan can. (However, its like one of Remus's biggest fantasies to Knot Virgil, and Virgil is totally in the same boat and would be Very on board with it)

This lack of natural knot doesnt stop Remus of course, infact its encouraging because he has a nearly non-existant refractory period so, literally imagine:

Virgil on his back, Virgil's head and shoulders are cradled lovingly in Logan's lap as the alpha occassionally trades kisses with both of his gorgeous omegas. Virgil's legs spread and cunt gently held nice and open by Logan's gentle but firm hands as Remus repeatedly sinks his cock nice and deep into Virgil. Slick soaks Virge and Remus's thighs, his cunt, and Remus's cock.

Every thrust has Virgil whimpering and his legs twitching with the relentless feeling of the head of Remus's cock just barley rutting against his cervix on every other pass. Just the hot way Remus has Virgil pinned into a mating press and obviously working hard to make that position live up to its name, babbling at how good Virgil feels taking his cock like a good little omega, at how easy it is to breed Virgil over and over and over again.

Then Logan enacts this little idea hes been holding onto the moment Remus starts to get close(hes trained Remus well, having helped him train to stall his orgasms for longer and longer because Remus LOVES overstimmulation). He has Remus slow down for just a moment, causing both omegas to whine, before coating two fingers in plenty of slick and slowly pressing them in alongside Remus's cock.

Virgil is slowly losing his mind(as they find out in later sessions that he absolutely has a size kink, and would happily take both their cocks at once any time hes given the chance) at the width, his eyes rolling. Then Remus is told to start thrusting again until he comes, and to ignore Logan's two fingers outside of being careful.

Virgil and Remus are so keyed up that it only takes another minute or so for Remus to start cumming, following Logan's order of pressing all the way inside as deep as he can get, at which point is Logan's cue to start curling his fingers firmly deep inside of Virgils walls.

Immediately, Virgil starts whimpering loudly as he cums, his body reacting the way it would if he were being knotted by an alpha, cunt clenching tight and sucking Remus's cock deeper as his eyes squeeze closed and his jaw fall lax, overwhelmed as his body draws out his orgasm for as long as hes knotted.

Remus is put in a mind-melting world of pleasurable overstimmulation as hes just climaxed and Virgils cunt is milking it for all hes got and he cant even move or pull out now because hes 'locked' inside. His hips and legs are trembling and he's moaning loudly because it's so hot that hes basically getting to Knot Virgil and it feels so good.

Virgil's cunt won't let him go and wont stop pulsing around the head his oversensitive cock and he really cant be faulted for the way he loses control and just keeps orgasming, his lack of refractory period as a keyed up omega just letting him squirt more and more cum and slick deep into the omega under him.

Logan's gentle and soothing, cooing reassurances to his two loves as he helps them lose their minds & fulfil their fantasies. He even uses his free hand to stroke Virgils little cock slowly, drawing out shaking whines from both of them as it makes Virgil clench harder in intervals. Remus ends up hunched over Virgil, his face tucked into his fellow omega's neck to muffle his overstimulated whimpers.

Logan draws it out for a minute or two, just until pleasured and overwhelmed tears picks at their eyes and their soft begging whimpers and mewls fill the room before slowly releasing the hold, letting the string of tension snap and watching them unravel and relax, finishing their peaks.

Remus cant help the way he struggles to pull out, so oversensitive that his hips keep hitching back in place with the way Virgils body tries to keep him there, needing Logan to pull their hips apart to fully end the scene.

Logan strokes and comforts both exhausted omegas, now fully in his element, cooing soft reassurances to both, getting up to start a bath and carefully guiding them both in and cleaning them up. The sheets are changed and both are put in soft clothing and given juice and cuddles.

Remus would probably make a comment on asking drowsily just how Logan deals with being knotted to him for in upwards of 30 minutes if it feels like /That/ the whole time. Logan would probably just smile sweetly and press a sweet kiss to his lips and say "with experience of course, perhaps we can work on that too, if the both of you would be so inclined?"

Virgil shutters and whines, too tired to get worked up again, Remus in a similar boat but nodding drowsily anyway. Remus probably wakes up sore and gets worked up all over again at the memory of why his cock of all things is sore and sensetive.

Perhaps they do work on it, perhaps Remus is trained to a take it little longer each time, no where near half an hour for the longest time, but he gets pretty close and much better at holding from losing his mind.

Maybe then they explore what it feels like for Remus to be stuck on Logan's knot, while Virgil is stuck on Remus's 'knot' with the help of a toy. Maybe then they also explore working Virgil up to take both of their cocks, and see what happens what Logan's fingers curl just right to trigger that knotted feeling to have Virgil lose his goddamn mind impaled on both their cocks as they slowly thrust in and out despite his body thinking he's already been knotted and reacting as such.

Maybe they even explore working Virgil's other hole open, just enough to take Logan's knot, and give Remus free reign to fuck Virgil's soaking trembling cunt until they can coax Virgil's cunt into taking Remus's 'knot' as well

Idk man. Just. This whole dynamic has so many hot possibilities. 💕💕💕

[cinnamonest]

I’m pushing out another one of my long-since-drafted things to the queue bc I’m trying to start keeping the queue active 24/7 and fill more asks but have this in the meantime

//dark shit, like the blood gore violence kind of yandere not the hot kind, brief animal death, gruesome slow npc death, gore, violence, blood, decaying/putrefaction mention

I'm really bad at judging what's mild versus severe when it comes to gore/blood bc I tend to underestimate, I think this is kinda severe? Let me know which it is actually pls so I have a better idea for the future ---------------------------------------- I mentioned a while back in the corpse disposal post and murder methods post that Razor can be... Brutal to say the least, but to expand more on the concept I feel like there's a big potential for a sort of gap moe with him, a duality that seems to contradict itself. Because in many ways he's a sweetheart, always trying to find things to make you happy, often smiling with those wide, excited eyes, physically affectionate with nuzzles and the like. But the other side of that, he's not actually aware of how... desensitized he is. You notice it early on and it catches you off guard a bit the first time it happens. Some poor little animal you two see struggling, like a bird stuck in a tree, and you urge him to go get it and he nods and says ok. Grabs it, and just as you're about to thank him and let it go you hear its little bones snap under the crush of his grip with a final pained chirp. There, he got it, see? Now you two can eat it together. That was why you wanted him to grab it right? To kill it? Why else? He looks down and realizes oh, it's still twitching, so he reached a hand up and twists its neck. There, now it's dead, he says with a beaming smile. But it falls and he tilts his head when he sees the shocked look on your face. What's wrong? Why are you so upset? You soon learn a lot of the animals don't... die immediately. The little things the wolves drag back are still kicking and struggling, still making noises as they tear into them to devour. It makes you sick to your stomach when you witness it, tears come to your eyes. He knows you don't like it and warns you, but... he doesn't understand why? Why does it upset you like that? He doesn't get it. It's a gnawing awareness in the back of your mind. You start to pick up on his... lack of reactions to certain things. You were once in the church getting healing for a minor wound of his when another group of adventurers came rushing through the doors, desperately begging for help for their friend they were carrying... some guy seriously injured, gored by a boar. The sight is burned in your mind forever, the organs spilling out of his split gut, the shivering and wide, bloodshot eyes, the blood bubbling out of his mouth with choked horrific groans and the way his body convulsed involuntarily. The most horrid thing you'd ever seen. And you were pretty certain it was that way for everyone. Everyone in the church was gasping, some people were retching and trying to hold back sickness, people ran out of the room as they were unable to handle the scene, tears were in everyone's eyes, and as the man wailed in agony from them setting his dislocated bones, you watched the bystanders cringe and wince. Every person in the vicinity was visibly horrified.... except for one. Razor's face was neutral. Curious. He leaned in closer to get a better look, eyebrows raised. He doesn't flinch at the sight of organs spilling onto the ground and the man starting to convulse and foam at the mouth as his eyes roll back into his head. And then, after a moment, he asks if you're ready to leave, says he feels better now and that man is really loud, he doesn't like it. His voice doesn't even have the slightest hint of a wavering or discomfort. When you come across a man in the woods caught in a bear trap, you can barely stand to look at it. Just hearing the cries for help had you shivering, and the sight of the pooling blood and utter agony on the man's face had you gasping, hand over your mouth as you tried to look away. ...Razor didn't seem to mind, though. He just undoes the trap and, without giving the man any warning, yanks it apart, pulling the spikes from his legs. As he does, blood shoots out and splatters on his face. He doesn't flinch, nor when the man screams. He does finally seem to react to the pained groans the man makes. But... It's not like your reactions. He's not flinching and grimacing, drawing in sharp breaths and tensing up, eyes watering in pity and shock like you. Instead, his eyes narrow and he puts his hands over his ears as you stoop down to help the poor man. His eyebrows furrow. He almost looks... Annoyed. He draws his foot back as if he's about to kick him, but freezes with realization when he looks at you, as if he forgot you were standing there, and puts his foot back down. You're certain he wasn't actually going to do that, of course. You're not sure why he did that, but... He wouldn't do something like that, even in a moment of dissociation from his human awareness. He does volunteer to be the one to go get help, though, getting away fast, but for some reason you sense it was more out of irritation at the noise rather than horror at the whole thing. Perhaps the worst was the decomposing body, that day you took a walk in the woods together. He smelled it first, nose wrinkling up in disgust at the putrid smell. But it was strong enough that you smelled it soon after. He says having dead animals this close to the residence of the pack is not good, they all hate the smell, so he can try to move the carcass of whatever animal it is... but it's not an animal, it turns out, once you finally find the source, collapsed at the bottom of a cliff from where they most likely fell to their death. Well, it's kind of a stretch to say it still resembles a human either, but you can tell from the general shape. It's more just like a glob, putrefied and rotting flesh falling off the bones. It shocks you so much you fall backwards, but he just moves closer. Ugh, too far rotted to move, he can't do anything about it, he realizes as he gives the decaying mass a kick and watches the blackened flesh slide off the bones. Oh well. ...In your shock, it takes you a moment to realize how... unbothered he seems. Mildly annoyed by the smell, but his expression is neutral as he looks at one of the most horrifying sights you've ever seen, he just yawns as he walks away from it and says you two should get away from the smell, it makes his head hurt.

The events all linger in the back of your head. A growing sense of wrongness, a dark, cold dread that settles in your stomach as the occurrences slowly grow in number, one after the other, each time you notice the complete lack of any sign of disturbance on his face, in his voice or body language. You ask him once, one time when you get the courage to ask such a... potentially offensive question. Don't you... feel anything when you see things dying? When they're in pain? He nods. He gets what you mean. The feeling when you watch something die. Hungry, right? Oh, no? Maybe you mean the irritation, a kind of angry feeling, what's the word... impatient...? Because the thing is taking too long to die and he wants it to go ahead and die already. Or maybe you mean like when that man was injured? When something is dying but it's not something you wanna eat? Yeah, he has a feeling then too. Um... kind of like anger... you taught him the word once... annoyed? They make so much noise, and he doesn't like loud things. When that man came into the church... he didn't like how loud it was. Why didn't they just kill him, since he was making so much noise...? He doesn't get it. When things annoy him, he kills them, like loud birds and biting bugs. He kinda had an urge to just... reach out and make the man stop screaming, just twist his neck like he does small animals when they make too much noise. But he's smart, he says, he knows the other people might get mad. Yes, he uses the word "might," not "would," as if it was a mere possibility. So it doesn't really come as a surprise when the same attitude applies to the people at his own mercy, the people that get too close to you and end up dragged out to the woods. It's that same knowing dread in your gut, and while it horrifies you as much as it always has, you wouldn't have expected anything else. Maybe some people would feel bad about what they're doing, they would want to go ahead and get it over with, they couldn't take the begging and agony the other party is in... but not only is he totally unbothered, but if he kills him now, he says, the blood will go all over the ground, and that's bad, his lupical like eating the blood in things. So he just snaps the man's bones, that way he won't run away. It's hard to describe the excruciated noises that come out of the other's throat when he does. It's unlike any noise you've ever heard a human make, that kind of pain. The sweat that pours from the other's skin from the agony, the way his mouth hangs open even when he can't scream anymore, the trembling and muffled begging as he moves to the next limb. You tremble and cry. You shiver uncontrollably, you whimper for him to stop. Your eyes widen when he grabs each limb and you close your eyes and sob and grimace and cringe with the snapping sound. Razor, on the other hand, stays just as neutral as before. Face blank and empty, as if performing any other mundane task. He doesn't flinch at the snapping. His expression is unchanging at the sound of screams and the groans as he drags the still-living figure behind him by his shattered ankle all the way back home. When he finally goes to look back at you, he tilts his head at the look on your face. Why do you still look upset? There's no blood yet... isn't it blood that makes you upset? Maybe not? Maybe it's the sound that bothers you? Yeah, you flinch whenever the man groans in pain, so it must be the sounds of the dying things that you don't like, it annoys him too really. Ok, that can be fixed... sound comes from the throat right? Well, he left his claymore a ways away so, it'll just take a second, the guy is thrashing a bit but eventually he holds him still enough to get his teeth latched around his throat and just... bites down. The sound is a squelching, crunching sound, one that you'll never forget, it makes every hair on your body stand on end and your skin crawl. He pulls back with the mass of bleeding flesh and tracheal tissue in his jaws and spits it out on the ground. There, see...? You can see the blood on his teeth reflecting the light as he smiles. He's not making noises anymore, so... why do you still have that look on your face? Is it because the body on the ground is all... spasming and convulsing like that? Well, uh... that'll stop soon, probably. At least it's nice and quiet now. He gets it, really, he doesn't like loud noises either.

[princeanxious]

Have some Patheon AU visuals I think about drawing often:

-Patton and Virgil are quietly chatting about something while Virgil works on a piece of lace, Roman stepping into the same room and making his presence known to them, first passing by Patton and giving the other a kiss on the cheek, then standing behind Virgil with a hand on his shoulder, gently sweeping Virgil's hair(which is not styled outside of the front being pinned out of his face to work) to the side to place a gentle kiss to Virgil's neck. Virgil continuing to work while smiling and flushing bright pink.

-Remus is showing Virgil his favorite kind of natural weather, a (gentle) rainstorm, and show him his favorite worms, bugs, and amphibians that come out in the rain. He kind of forgets that Virgil can get cold and sick from being soaked and realizes two seconds too late and Virgil ends up tucked in the arms and under the head of a panicked Remus, wrapped inside Re's thick and warm cloak. All anyone would see is a tall cloaked gentle 'giant' and an second tiny face peaking through the cloak some ways under the cloak wearer's head, smiling and giggling as the giant worriedly chatters down at them.

-Virgil having fallen asleep between Emile and Remy, Remy had been braiding Virgils hair while Emile quietly talked to Virgil until the poor thing dozed off. It was a purposeful ploy, because Virgil had seemed super tired all day. He ends up waking up like 10 minutes later but surprisingly lets himself be shuffled into a soft bed and immediately crashes for the next few hours, cuddled right up into Emile and Remy's arms.

-Virgil was sometimes plagued with uneasy dreams/nightmares, but he never woke or remembers that he had them because Janus would skirt in through the shadows late at night at the first quiet whimper. Even though Janus spent all his time avoiding Virgil when the human was awake for reasons unspoken, he still actually cared deeply for Virgil, just feared letting the human close. All it takes is a gentle brush of the hand and hes easily able to banish the bad dreams. None of the others aside from Thomas and Emile knew he did this until much, much later.

- Logan oh so gently cupping Virgil's cheeks and cooing softly, swiping away overwhelmed tears from V's face as he reassures the other that he's worth their love, that no amount of 'logical reasoning' could ever quantify the amount the Pantheon loves Virgil.

-Janus knelt softly on the ground, surrounded by an army of soldiers turned to stone, cradling the dying body of their little human. Sobbing and scolding the other angrily through his tears at such a stupid act, trying to save an immortal from some pain when he himself is just a mortal, sobbing harder when Virgil doesnt even react due to the silver arrow that had pierced through his back and through his heart in an act of panicked self-sacrifice.

-in addition to that scene, Janus shakily pressing a kiss to Virgil's forehead, and it being a single call to the rest of the Pantheon and beyond, a request to be granted, a debt ready to be repaid.

-Thomas being the one to take Virgil and grant him god status, God of protection, defense, and sacrifice. Its a very gentle process, his long hair doing that pretty floaty thing and everything.(And that maybe becoming a normal attribute to certain strands of his hair bc why tf not)

-the first thing Virgil does when he wakes up amongst the Pantheon, is search for Janus, trying to make sure hes also okay. Janus just sinks to his knees and tucks the other into his hold and breathes a shaky breath, replying with "I'm more than okay, now."

-just, any God of the Pantheon gently tilting Virgil's head up by the chin, softly brushing his long bangs out of his new deep purple eyes with their fingers, tucking those bangs behind his ear and cupping his cheek, tilting their head down and oh so gently kissing him, giving him plenty of outs if he wants to take them and even letting him lean up that last inch in reciprocal consent.

[leejungchans]

— dance with me?

word count: 1.7k

pairing: dino (svt) x ateez oc (juliet)

warning(s): none!!

genre: an overwhelming amount of fluff bc i love lee chan

set on february 11, 2021

summary: during a late-night date on dino’s birthday, he asks juliet a special question.

juliet’s masterlist

minnie 🐭❤️ [22:16] i’m heading down now!! (◕‿◕) don’t drive off without me please ur so sexc 😩😩

From where he is, parked a street down from the building where ATEEZ’s dorm is in, Chan shakes his head fondly, looking out the window from the driver’s seat for any sign of his girlfriend.

Sure enough, just a few minutes later, Juliet emerges from the building’s entrance, glancing down the mostly empty street before spotting the familiar car.

Under the light of the street lamps, he can see that she’s wearing a huge puffer jacket with a scarf wrapped around her neck, purple hair stuffed under her beanie to avoid catching the attention of prying eyes. With all the layers she has on, she reminds him of a waddling penguin as she speed-walks towards the car.

Cute.

Chan unlocks the door as Juliet approaches, her eyes smiling while she settles into the passenger’s seat before leaning over the console to hug him. “Happy birthday, Channie,” she beams, taking off her mask to nuzzle the bottom half of her face into the thick material of her scarf.

“You already said that,” Chan teases, also smiling as he watches her fumble with the seatbelt for a bit.

“That was from almost twelve hours ago at 12 am! I think it’s illegal if I didn’t wish you a happy birthday again,” Juliet protests. “Sorry for being late, by the way. Have you been waiting long?”

“It’s only a few minutes, don’t sweat it.”

“Okay, but there’s actually a good reason! I was about to leave the building when Mingi-oppa called me because I left your present on the table, and I had to go back up to grab it! So you have him to thank that you have a birthday present.”

Juliet takes out a small gift bag, its handles tied together with ribbon so he can’t look into it, and hands it to him with a sweet grin. “Don’t open it now, though,” she warns half-jokingly.

“What? Why?” Chan whines. “I can’t even open my own present on my birthday?”

“No, because if you open it now then I’ll have to explain the meaning behind your gift, and if I do that I might actually cry. There’s a card inside explaining it.”

“What if I want to hear it from you?”

“Then you can call me when you get home,” she responds cheekily.

Chan relents. “Fine, you win. But you didn’t have to get me anything, I hope you know that,” he adds the last part seriously.

Juliet smiles reassuringly. “I know, but I wanted to. I hope you’ll like it, though.”

“I know I will.” It’s at that moment when he finally gets a good look at her face, the light from the street lamps hitting it just enough for him to note the dark circles under her eyes. “You look tired, baby. Don’t get me wrong, you’re beautiful no matter what, but is everything okay?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah.” As though on cue, Juliet brings a hand up to cover her mouth as she yawns. “Just a little tired from comeback preparations and practising for Kingdom. I’ll be fine, though, don’t worry.”

“I’ll always worry about you,” Chan admits. “You shouldn’t have come so you can rest.”

Juliet frowns. “No, I wanted to see you. Plus, it’s your birthday.”

“Okay, but you have to promise that you’ll take care of yourself.”

“I always do!” A pause. “Okay, sometimes I don’t, but I’ll try,” she promises genuinely.

Chan smiles. “Good. Let’s go, then. Seatbelt on?”

“Mhm!”

“Um, where exactly are you taking me?” Juliet asks suspiciously, noting that they’re currently driving up a hill away from central Seoul.

“Patience, Minnie. You’ll find out soon,” Chan says with a mischievous smirk. “We’re almost there.”

She feigns an offended gasp. “I am always patient! I’m just asking because I’m too pretty to meet my end now.”

“If something happens, I’ll protect you.”

“Nice try, but don’t think I haven’t watched that episode of GOING SEVENTEEN with you guys in the haunted house,” Juliet teases with a raised brow. “If anything, we probably need to call Wonwoo-ssi or Minghao-ssi.”

Chan groans. “Can we not talk about my members when we’re on a date?”

This only earns a laugh from Juliet. “You’re cute when you’re jealous.”

“You’re going to tease me even on my birthday?”

“It’s how I show affection!” she defends while the car comes to a stop at the side of a dimly lit road. “Are we here?”

Upon his nod, she unbuckles her seatbelt to hop out the car, snow crunching under her boots. Immediately, harsh winds whip at her face and she shivers, the temperature even lower due to the higher elevation.

She hears a lighthearted tsk from behind her before feeling her jacket being draped over her shoulders. “You left it in the backseat, silly,” Chan says softly while he helps her into it, referring to when she took it off during the car ride. “You’re going to catch a cold.”

“No, I won’t. I have you to remind me,” Juliet says cheekily, earning herself a light flick on the forehead. She follows Chan to a clearing a few paces away from where they parked and immediately realises why he took her here.

Seoul, with its sparkling lights, is captivating at night when you’re in the heart of the city, but perhaps even more so when you’re looking at it from afar. She can’t help but admire the stark contrast between the tranquil hillside they’re at that compared to the vibrant city centre it overlooks.

“I sometimes come here with the members when we want to be away from... the loudness of it all,” Chan explains quietly as they move closer to the railing. “To think. Or just to take our mind off certain things.”

Juliet leans closer to his side to link their arms, her head coming to rest on his shoulder. “It’s beautiful. Thank you for bringing me here.”

“Don’t come to places like here often?”

She snorts. “I don’t just let anyone drive me to a dark hill in the middle of the night.”

Chan laughs, gently resting his head on hers. “You have a point. Does this mean I’m the only person allowed to take you here?”

“I’d like that. I also have a horrible sense of direction, so I don’t think I can remember the way here even if I tried.” Despite her quip, something in Juliet feels fuzzy and warm at the thought of this place being one only they know of.

It brings a sense of giddiness, the same one she felt when she was much, much younger; when she and her friends first decided on a secret hideout at their school back home in Sydney. Only this time, there’s more to it than just childhood innocence.

Juliet doesn’t know much about love. She’s had crushes here and there throughout her life, but none of them ever developed into something further. Of course, until she met Chan.

She doesn’t know much about love. But this feels like it.

And that’s more than enough for her.

His voice cuts through her thoughts. “I actually have something to ask you.”

At her hum, he continues.

“I was wondering if you’d want to be on Danceology. You know, like for a collaboration. We can choreograph and dance it together... anything you want, really.”

Juliet looks up at the boy with wide eyes, not knowing if she heard him correctly. “You’re sure?”

“You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to. Or you don’t have to decide now, I know you’re really busy these days. No pressure at all.”

“No, no,” she clarifies. “I meant if you’re sure you want to do one with me?”

The look in his eyes is so tender that she feels like crying. “I wouldn’t want anyone else.”

Something tells her he’s not only referring to Danceology.

Juliet leans her forehead on Chan’s shoulder to hide her face from him. “You’re going to make me cry on your own birthday,” she mutters.

“Is that a yes?”

She nods against him while blinking away the hot tears prickling at her eyes, feeling his lips press against her temple.

“That’s the best present you could’ve given me.”

“Yah, you can’t say that!” Juliet says, somehow finding it in her to crack a joke. What can she say? Humour is one of her many coping mechanisms. “You’re only supposed to say that if I didn’t give you anything! What does that make the gift I got you?”

“Best of the best?” At her laugh, Chan presses again, “am I still not allowed to open it?”

“No, you’re not.”

[00:05—Outside ATEEZ’s dorm]

“Okay, fine, you can open it.”

“What made you change your mind?” Chan grins, already reaching for the small bag in the backseat.

“Honestly, I don’t know,” Juliet admits, smiling as she uses the dimmest setting of her phone’s flashlight to illuminate the dark interior, the overhead light being too risky to turn on at this hour lest they want to draw unwanted attention to themselves. “I guess I want to see your reaction.”

She stares quietly as he undos the ribbon tying the handles together before looking into the bag and taking out a small box. Despite her shyness and the sudden urge to jump out of the car and run back up to the dorm, Juliet continues to hold up her phone as he takes out the silver band within it.

It’s simple, minimalist, inconspicuous enough to wear during the day but at the same time uniquely his due to the custom engraving on the outside of the band. A snowflake.

She bites the inside of her cheek from nervousness as Chan silently reads the small card that came along in the bag, subconsciously tracing over her neat handwriting with his finger.

“Like a snowflake, I fell for you hahahaha (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) You asked me to be yours during the first snow of the year. I hope that is only the start of many more years to come. Happy Birthday, always be happy and healthy ❤️ And don’t forget to take care of yourself!! (♡`Д´) If you forget I’ll come over and nag you, but maybe you’d like that more than not ㅋㅋㅋ — 🐭❤️”

Chan’s eyes are glossy when he finally meets her curious and worried gaze, trying to gauge his reaction. He beams brightly.

“Told you I’d like it.”

find their collaboration here!! 😼

a/n: blessing you guys with this gif bc look at him go!! ;-; stream dino’s dancelogy to be sexcie 😼 pls don’t let juno flop </3 also i thought it’d be too mean if i didn’t tell you what the present was bc i definitely considered not saying anything about it 👀👀 anyways let me know what you think about this chapter 🥺 personally i am <///3 bc bwhehwhs i want what they have but also i’m not very good at writing fluff whjehdhw i cringe at myself sm when writing it 🤡

thank you so much for reading 💕 please do consider leaving feedback whether it’s a reblog, a reply or an ask, it would mean the absolute world to me as feedback really motivates and supports creators 🥺 and feel free to chat with me about juliet or anything else through my asks!! as always, take care and have a good day!!

[heyitsyn]

Manager!Seijoh OIKS ROUTE

a/n: this,,,, is probably the angstiest out of the routes and i seem to only write angst for oikawa and i think its a problem

this is for @what-a-creative-username​ bc oikawa is their favorite seijoh boy so this is for you 🥺

and actually buckle your seatbelts bc this is my longest work and its the biggest mess ever :’) also, this is kinda all over the place soooo

anon:

- May we have an x Oikawa ending to the Manager AU?

- okaayyyy so this is a request for the manager series. please pleASE PLEASEEEEE- make a oikawa ending! 🥺 cuz he’s my favorite and all those times with him in the story feel like more than just friends

OMG IM SORRY BUT MY INNER OIKAWA SIMP THAT I NEVER KNEW WAS EVEN THERE STARTED TO PEAK THROUGH

so basically yea

as seen in a lot of the parts,

oikawa is very,,,, loving towards you

like his entire demeanor was just so different and so,,, authentic,,,, than the ones he shows to other females

maybe it was because you didnt want him in the beginning?

the moment he saw you, he did his first antics and he expected you to turn red and fluster and cutely shy away from him 

yanno the works

yet you gave him a stony stare and denied him

ofc he was hurt and a little offended bc were you rejecting him?

hes never been rejected before and he prides himself for that but you just did and continued to do that

so he made it his mission to make you at least feel something for him

like the period part or his random proclamations of his love for you

he did it all

it didnt matter if it would bite him in the ass later because he was impulsive and he wanted you to show yourself being affected with his charms

because he was the FREAKING OIKAWA TOORU

ong this is like his validation that he is still a ladies man and has a charm that couldnt be resisted by anyone

he constantly told you that he loved you to see a reaction from you and he always was touching you whether it was just the shoulder or your hand

oikawa wanted to see you as his own personal cheerleader and you reacting to his affections would really bring him over the moon

this brings us here in the gym today

‘y/n-chan, do you want to go-’

‘oikawa-san, i dont trust you wanting to go on an innocent outing without any hidden intentions’

the team snickered and he pouted, eyes watering and curling at your side

‘y/n-chan, please? oikawa-san really wants to spend time with you~’

he begged and you finally looked up from the notebook and stared at him

god hes been much more annoying lately but you knew it was his way of letting out his anxiousness and nervousness for the incoming interhigh

so you decided to indulge him just this once and made a deal with him

‘the moment you try anything, even remotely romantic or flirty, i will leave’

you bargained but he gasped

‘what?! then what’s the point of-’

‘so you DO have hidden intentions, oikawa-san?’

you raised your eyebrow causing oikawa to quickly shake his head and detach from you

‘fine. none of that stuff, just hanging out, okay?’

he was still fussy but he accepted it

oikawa had a plan to take you to a cafe that just opened up and take you shopping and basically spoil you because girls like that, right?

they fall for boys who give them everything, right?

nope

so i read a study that surprisingly most girls arent into shopping apparently and they prefer to buy something themselves because apparently they feel indebt and dependent on men if they let them spoil them like that

idk about you but i would let oikawa spoil me tho

his plans were completely crushed when you argued with him for nearly 15 minutes to take half of your tab with the food

‘y/n-chan! i invited you out so i should pay! and boys have to pay!’

he complained, holding the other end of the tab envelope thingy but you pulled it back towards you

‘oikawa-san. you should never listen to societal normalities and instead listen and respect my wishes of paying for my half rather than going by the rules of males paying for females’

im sensing a bit of a bokuto and akaashi typa relationship between you two

oikawa shook his head and slightly stood up to lean over the table, his face approaching yours and you were slightly surprised by the sudden closeness causing you to lean back and be focused on getting away so your grip on the tab loosened

he grinned as he snatched it away from your grasp and quickly placed his card into the slot before running up to the cashier

your mouth was slacked and surprise was still written on your face even when he returned and oikawa held up a peace sign to try and lighten up

but your shock morphed into being upset

‘oikawa-san, listen here. you had-’

but he waved you off with a smile

‘no, you listen here, y/n-chan. oikawa-san loves you therefore he will give you everything in the world and all you have to do is sit there and point at whatever you want because my love will bring it to you~!’

you rolled your eyes

‘please stop being like that, oikawa-san. im not your girlfriend so dont act like my boyfriend’

he lightly scoffed, disguising it with a cough

‘y/n-chan, i dont think you understand. oikawa-san is telling you to be his good little girl and sit down. i dont understand why youre being so stubborn’

he growled softly

wHAT iS hE sAYinG

you shook your head in disbelief and stood up collecting your things making the brunette to also stand up in curiosity

‘y/n-chan? youre leaving already? i wanted to go see other places with you! i wanted to take you shopping!’

you halted and looked up at him through your long eyelashes

‘oikawa-san, i’d rather you save your money and rest your injuries instead’

you reasoned but he raised his hands in front of him to signify his wish for you to stop

‘but i want to be with you, y/n-chan’

he whispered and you blinked

‘i dont want you to spend a single dime for me after this. just you and me, oikawa-san, no money, just us’

he nodded eagerly

‘we can go anywhere you want! just,,, stay with me’

then he found himself in a bookstore with you

it was a quaint hole in the wall bookstore that you both found as you walked down the street and you excitedly dragged him inside, hand still laced together

the rows of shelves that contained different worlds in the pages were your serotonin

he watched you excitedly run to the fiction section and browsed through the different spines for anything special to check out

‘y/n-chan, i’ll go use the bathroom really quickly’

you nodded and oikawa kissed your temple before he left towards the restroom

your eyes flitted across the different titles and you snatched a book of poetry

oikawa hurriedly walked over back to you but he didnt find you at the place you were before

so he continued sifting through the mini hallways of shelves and then he stopped

it was so,,, domestic 

seeing your bright eyes looking down at the book  on your hands and the way your mouth slightly moved with the words

it was such a simple sight yet why did you look so beautiful?

the shimmering eyes that flittered when you came across a sentence you liked 

the soft lips that kinda jutted out making his desire to feel it increase that he would give anything to feel on his own

you were so focused that you didnt notice him moving behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist, only noticing his head resting on your shoulder

‘’come, my darling, it is never too late to begin our love again’’

he mumbled to your ear and you released one hand from the book to grasp his arms that were around your middle

‘you read poetry?’

you whispered and oikawa chuckled

‘of course. a man as romantic as I am ought to be a poet’

he reasoned and you laughed

‘yet you fail to sway me, oikawa-san’

‘no, there is a difference. you dont want my love but i know you want to be loved by me, i can assure you!’

you swiftly placed the book back on its former place and you turned around to swing your arms around his neck

‘hmm,,,, love was never something for me. especially with you boys around’

oikawa looked down to see your shorter height and he caressed your hip

‘i love you, y/n, so let me love you the way you deserve to be’

he whispered not understanding the weight of his words and you looked down to hide the growing blush on your face before burying your face into his sweater-clad chest

‘so not fair oikawa-san’

you mumbled against the fabric but he heard it and he bursted into giggles

‘ehh~~ youre not being the fair one, y/n-chan! youre make it so hard to not fall for you when youre so beautiful~!’

he whines and you rested your chin on him so you could look up at him and your pout made him squeeze you tighter

‘hah?! that doesnt make sense! im nothing but a mess of-!’

you started but was cut off when he kissed your nose and whispered:

‘but what a beautiful mess you are’

okay so i know this is the saddest one out of the routes but ive just been serving fluff so the angst is coming soon!!!!!!

once you both were finished in the bookstore, you suggested going to this hill that allowed you to see the stars clearer

‘hmm, oikawa-san, there’s this place that natsu used to take me to whenever he wanted to see the stars so i think you’d like it’

you mentioned while walking on the sidewalk

oikawa’s hand was clutching yours and you were swinging it back and forth while lightly skipping and kicking the rocks

he watched you, amused, at how child-like you were acting right now but he was also touched, knowing your knowledge of his love for space

‘sure!’

the night sky allowed the stars to light up and you both shared giggles and laughs as the two of you stumbled over your feet with no light except from above

however once you made it to the top of the hill, oikawa pulled you close to him as you huddled on a seated position

��how’d you know i would like this, y/n-chan?’

he asked and you gave him an obvious look

‘hah? its so obvious! you keep drawing the cancer constellation on your skin and you had an astrology book in your bag that you were also reading in the bus’

your answer brought warmth inside him and he never thought you were so perceptive of him

you noticed every little thing he does and hes,,,, never had someone do that before

except for iwa and his family and team, no one knows of his little ticks and the way he becomes obsessive of a topic once he gets interested in it

you noticed it all

‘that right there, its the big dipper!’

you pointed and he followed the direction of your finger before nodding

‘yep! waaahhh its much prettier seeing it higher up than my roof!’

he exclaimed and your gaze left the constellation towards the boy beside you

‘really,, pretty’

you absentmindedly muttered yet he was sharp and heard you

‘but its different to look at something much more beautiful’

this caused you to quickly go back to looking at the stars so you missed his love-filled eyes

‘i want to name my children by constellations. so that they can keep the oikawa legacy going forever like constellations being at the sky for all eternity. or naming it after the sky! then i can make sure theyre never going away’

he said and you nodded

you kept pointing out different shapes and laughing at his funky claims of what some stars connected to and created

‘oikawa-san, lets go to the star festival later’

you offered and he in turn looked away from you, turning red at the way the small lights illuminated your face and somehow making it more,,,, angelic

so he covered it up with his own teasing 

‘oh? the meeting of the two lovers?’

you dont know why but your cheeks burned at the mention of the ‘L’ word and oikawa noticed, quickly poking fun of your cheeks

‘oh, y/n-chan, dont be so shy!’

you pouted and turned away

‘never mind’

oikawa’s laugh rang throughout the space and he pulled you closer, practically sitting on his lap, while pointing out the stars and him pressing kisses to your cheeks

the intertwining of your fingers combined with the kisses made you feel as if you were floating with how free you felt

and you loved every moment of it

after that outing with your captain, you were conflicted

it wasnt the first time he’s openly said he loved you and his shower of affections have been there since the very beginning

yet how come you were just now feeling,,,,, different??

you were sure you felt an odd feeling inside you when he said your name with no usual suffix and it wasnt just the food that didnt agree with you

whenever his lips came in contact with your skin, it left blazing trails of red that spread out as far as it could

the heartbeat that quickened once he kissed your forehead at your doorstep and the grin you last saw when you closed the door

or the unknown smile that you didnt know you had on until natsu, who was visiting, pointed it out

‘darling, why are you just standing there? and why are you smiling like that? its weird, stop it’

you didnt even have the attitude to scold him and you giggled before twirling and holding his hand

‘oh, natsu~ i want to dance! and sing!’

you shouted, taking him with you and dancing around the living room

tbh natsu was very worried but he remembered you mentioning that you were meeting some guy today and it might be the reason as to why you were acting like this

he was happy

you deserved to be loved as you are and you were finally getting that love

but,,,,,,,,,

it didnt last long

albeit having a lot of fun, oikawa seemed,,,, off to you

it was,,, awkward

maybe it was because you were now aware of some type of growing attraction inside of you or every little thing he does to you could send you into shapeshifting and channeling your inner tomato

forget potato, youre now a tomato

but even his touches and affections were now limited

restricted

like the the next time you both saw each other, you shyly but happily bounded up to him and greeted him good morning

but his eyes widened, taking a step back before laughing awkwardly

‘ah ha ha, hey y/n-chan’

oikawa greeted then side-stepped to enter the gym

god you felt like you were slapped in the face

you remained frozen, staring at the spot he previously occupied and your mind was running quickly

was it because your senses were now heightened that everything made you extra sensitive?

usually, oikawa would squeal at the fact you were even greeting him this morning but he literally just walked away from you

no, you were just,,,,

overreacting

right?

yea, just,,,

overreacting

iwa noticed your downcast expression and he had a feeling it had something to do with oikawa’s off expression

you hurriedly placed your bag down and took out your notebook to start taking notes for their practice

big boy ace went up to you and placed a hand on your arm which caused you to flinch

he immediately backed off, letting go and stepping back

‘wh-hey? y/n? you okay? did something happen?’

he worriedly asked but you shook your head, not even bothering to meet his eyes

‘uh-yea. mhm, perfectly fine’

you lied and he wanted to press further but mattsun and makki called you over to check out their blocks so you ran to them

but he had a feeling you were just taking every opportunity to not answer his questions

while you were pre-occupied with the meme team, iwa marched up to oiks and tugged him around to fully talk to him

oikawa watched your interaction and he knew iwa would immediately start questioning him too

‘oi, what the hell did you do’

there was an underlying tone in his best friend’s voice that he didnt particularly like

oikawa did what he does best and plastered a smile on his face

‘hm? what do you mean, iwa-chan?’

‘what the hell do you mean what do i mean? you speak japanese dont you? so tell me what the hell happened during your date because it seems like shit happened and now youre both acting weird’

oikawa flinched at the blunt words but it was the truth

he was acting weird and this caused you to probably act weird too

god hes so dumb

but he,,, was going through stuff right now

it was a situation that he didnt want to involve you in 

and,,, seeing you dancing with natsu with the biggest smile on your face through the window of your house

okay guys dont think this is weird or stalker-ish bc i actually saw this in a kdrama ages ago and i thought it was just so sweet and cute and dont take it the weird and stalker creepy way :(

it certainly brought him pain

this was what he wanted though, right?

he wanted to see a reaction from you with his antics and he wanted to see you flustered and giggling like one of his lovestruck girls

but dear god that was when he became aware of your growing feelings

oikawa even saw it before you did with the way you gave him those longing stares and small smiles and the small squeezes of his hand when he would laugh

initially, he wouldve teased you for it but then he kept quiet

this entire time he knew you, he felt,,, love,,, for you

and by god, he was so scared

he wanted to run away

because he was well aware of his personality and him as a person 

he could make you smile the biggest and the happiest but he was also the type to make you feel the most pain and cause the deepest wounds on your already fragile heart

he didnt want that responsibility and burden

it was too risky

oikawa knew he was a ticking time bomb and he was afraid if you got even just a centimeter closer

you would be the one hit with the blast the most

maybe it was that sight that made him want to distance himself

it was a sight that made him realize that you deserved someone much better and that someone couldn’t be him

the happiness that danced in your eyes and the smile that decorate your beautiful face

can you imagine the irony?

the moment you notice of your growing feelings, the moment he decides to withdraw and pull away

.......

practice was,,, suffocating? 

the team knew of the tension these past few days and you both def were not the same

oikawa has not said he loved you or even pestered you once and as much as the guys hated seeing it, they were getting worried

did you both fight?

what happened?

when oikawa was talking with the coach and you were grabbing something from the storage room, they immediately took this chance to pounce on iwaizumi since he was the closest to the both of you

‘oi, iwaizumi, the hell happened?’

makki asked and the others nodded, wondering the same thing

but they were surprised when he shrugged

‘dont know. stupidkawa refuses to talk and i dont want to bother y/n bc she seems,,, weird about it’

if iwaizumi didnt know, then something serious did happen

you and oikawa continued this weird eggshell walking and you even gave up after trying to ask so many times on what was wrong and only to be answered with,

‘nothing~! y/n-chan should never have to worry her pretty little head about old me~!’

that answer didnt bother you

it was his smile

the genuine smile that you were so happy to receive as it was only for you

now seems gone and replaced with his fake one as if you now became one of his fangirls

what took the cake was his appearance to practice with a girl in his arm

they were both laughing and seemed trapped in their own little bubble to even notice the team’s wide eyes and concerned looks to you

you didnt even notice your teary eyes until mattsun quite literally picked you up and shouted he wanted to help you fill up the water bottles

he placed you outside, sitting on a bench by the gym

you were biting your lip and staring at the ground while he was leaning back and looking at the sky

‘the sky is very pretty today’

he complimented but it wasnt heard by you

you only came back to reality when he nudged you gently and you shot him a crooked smile but he sighed at the look of hurt written all over your face

‘oh, y/n, i am getting increasingly worried for our generation. theres so many sad eyes on happy faces’

he tutted and returned to gazing back up to the clouds

you scrunched your nose and scoffed

‘i dont understand you, mattsun-san’

you mumbled and fiddled with your fingers

mattsukawa issei shook his head and pointed above

‘y/n-chan, our eyes enables us to identify beauty and we have the urge to immediately capture it to remember that we did find something beautiful. yet, we feel hopeless as we cant to put the beauty on paper because we are only given one crayon to draw the sunset’

it felt all muddled

there was no sense in his words and you were sniffed, trying to understand

‘mattsun-san, did you eat any more of those candy makki-san bought from that one guy?’

he bursted into laughter and you couldnt help but quirk your lip at the sound of his joy

‘who knows? taka is my boy and i trust him so if he gave it to me, then,,,, it cant be that bad, right?’

you blanched

‘mattsun-san! im not about to go pick you up from the er again just because makki-san dared you to do something!’

mattsun finally wandered his eyes over to you and he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear

‘thats the thing with you, y/n-chan. youre quick to love others but you lose pieces of yourself in the process. i have no right to tell you who deserves it but please ask yourself, is that sacrifice worth it?’

you knew he wasnt talking about your love for the team

but for the love for a certain setter that didnt go unnoticed by the middle blocker

leave it to mattsun to make you laugh and you were letting out your last giggles as you stepped into the gym

oikawa stopped talking and focused on the two of you, 

more specifically,

you

he watched as you laughed and swatted mattsun’s elbow as he jokingly made fun of your height by resting his arm on top of your head

yes this was what it was supposed to be

you deserved someone who could make you smile and only smile

he doesnt even hesitate but even imagine the tears that would fill those beautiful eyes and he knows it would all be his fault

no

he will stop that from happening way before it would occur

he will do anything to make sure you will never cry because of him so he will distance himself and now, he gives up

it could just be his stress and insecurities talking but he knows right now,

he wants you away from him

oikawa tooru, the boy who could get anyone he wants, couldn’t get the girl he wishes for the most

dear god was it laughable

after practice was finished,

you quietly and quickly packed up the nets and picked up the balls to get yourself out of there

these past few days made you feel so much confusion that it hurts

if there was anything worse than him not talking to you,

it was not knowing why 

that curiosity and desperate need for answers creates wild and self-destructive theories 

did you chew too loudly when you ate?

were you boring and not as fun as the others?

was he angry and humiliated of his pride as a man when you scolded him for paying for you?

has he gotten tired of you now that he knows who you really are?

that last question suddenly created a new set of tears to appear

throughout the day, you were so composed and distracted yourself with the lectures of your teachers and not anything of why this certain brunette was avoiding you

but a single insecure question made that wall crumble and you hurriedly shoved the trolley of balls into the storage room and grabbed your bag before rushing out of there

you sniffled and hurriedly walked home so you could go and cry on your bed in peace

but ofc 

hiroshi natsu exists so ofc he distracted you when you entered the house with a red puffy face

quietly, he led you to the couch and he wordlessly grabbed a tissue box from the coffee table to dab away the tears

you sniffled and clenched your fists to will yourself to stop these dumb salty water drops

‘i cant tell you its going to be okay because i dont want you to cling on to false hope. but i know it hurts. its worse that of all people, oikawa tooru had to be your first ever crush’

he chuckled

you took a shaky breath and wiped your face

‘this was why i shouldnt have liked him. god! all we did was eat dinner and look at the stupid fcking sky! thats it! so why-! why do i suddenly like him?! AM I THAT DESPERATE?!’

you wailed and blew your nose while natsu patted your back

‘i mean,,, to others it sounds like youre easy to sway’

you looked up from the tissue to glare at him but he continued

‘but to me,,,, it sounds like it was just the last push you needed to finally see oikawa tooru in that way’

you nodded, laughing weakly

‘i dont know why im acting like a lunatic like this. hes just a crush anyway so it’ll probably fade in a day or two so bear with me until then, kay?’

but his grim shake of his head gave you no hope

‘rather than fade, it will grow. and i might have to bear with this for the rest of our lives. now you be a bad bitch and sit there and look fine as hell while i go order 10 boxes of pizza and load up teen moms’

the impromptu movie night distracted you a little bit from it all but you still couldn’t help but think about it

GOD WHY WAS NATSU SO DRAMATIC?!

BECAUSE OF THAT IDIOT YOU ARE NOW SITTING IN CLASS, BAGS UNDER YOUR EYES, AND BREAKING YOUR PENCILS IN HALF

all you have to do is make sure you think of oikawa doing something disgusting to make that attraction fade away

oikawa licking his toes

oikawa licking his toes

oikawa licking his toes

oikawa licking his-

‘y/n?’

you snapped out of your daydream when kunimi reached out to you

kindaichi, who came over for lunch, and him were staring at you in concern and they shared a look

‘y/n, something must’ve happened that day with captain’

kunimi started but kindaichi snapped

‘see?! this is why we shouldve never let you go! the first time you go with him and now youre a mess! tell us! did he force himself on you?! did he-?!’

you stopped the onion top boy with a forced smile and a squeeze on the arm

‘o-oikawa-san would never do that, kindaichi. hes better than that’

‘but clearly not because look at you!’

he shouted and you flinched 

kunimi hurriedly knocked him to the floor

‘get ahold of yourself, kindaichi’

he mumbled and you stood up and walked to the bathroom at the west wing that nobody uses so you could freely cry without any suspicion

was it obvious?

was it clear that you have been a mess after a week of being ignored by oikawa?

nah, youre just being a dramatic little shit

youre sticking to your word of quickly forgetting about the whole ordeal

but you definitely cant if your nightmare was happening before your eyes

as you approached the bathroom from the end of the hallway, 

you saw an unknown girl but an all too familiar boy giggling and rushing to get inside the bathroom

and for good measure, oikawa looked around to make sure no one was there but then he saw you

despite the distance between you, he could see your glistening eyes from the sunlight that seeped in from the big windows

he saw the way your hand trembled and your eyes twitched when haruna poked her head out to see why he was still outside

‘oikawa-senpai~~’

she drawled out and reached a manicured nail to his wrist 

your eyes followed her touch and then you and the boy shared eye contact

through the watery eyes, he could clearly make out your silent plead

please dont go to her

please

stay with me

dont go

but he went in anyways

------

that was the moment you forced yourself to not think about him anymore

as if you werent even working your hardest lately, you will work your hardest now

everything between you and him was now strictly professional as practice that day signified the very first day of your moving on stage

you couldnt believe these past 2 weeks has been a real nightmare yet you were slowly waking up from it

there was nothing you could do about it bc oikawa obviously didnt mean anything he said to you and maybe thats what ticked you off the most

you were easily led on

he blindly tugged you along the moment you saw his smile

he definitely thought of you as just as a game and when he finally got tired and bored, he dropped you and went to another

kunimi and kindaichi noticed the coldness of your eyes and the stoic expression on your face and they were genuinely terrified of you so they didnt want to ask any questions

even with packing up, you aggeressively shoved everything in your bag and the blep boy finally gained the courage and nervously tapped his finger on your desk to gain your attention

you swiftly dropped in your pencil case and looked at him

‘what’

he flinched at the cold tone and his eyes showed concern

‘uh-i-are you okay?’

he slowly asked and you visibly clenched your jaw but you nodded anyways

‘never better’

you didnt bother waiting for him to finish packing up and even passed kindaichi by the door as you were walking towards the girl’s locker room to change into your manager outfit

your entrance to the gym made the noise die down and you noticed the third years with glares on and aggressively practicing

‘whats wrong with all of you’

you asked and iwa scoffed before shaking his head and opening his arm

‘cmere. i missed you’

he said and ngl you were a little confused bc this wasnt something iwa usually did but you still stuck to his side

‘why-’

‘he told me what happened’

iwa whispered and you stiffened in his arms

‘w-what?’

iwaizumi flung the boy to his own bedroom wall

he huffed, panting at both the weight of oikawa tooru and the intense anger that burned through his veins

‘you-you are a piece of shit!’

he shouted and he moved to grab oikawa’s collar and lifted him so the brunette could see the fire and disgust present in his olive eyes

‘you think i didnt see what the hell you did? fcking leaving y/n sobbing as you-you-! AGH!’

iwaizumi couldnt even finish his sentence as he was so angry that he harshly sent oikawa flying back down to his floor

oikawa was crying

not from the beating

but from his regrets

god he knew he messed up

he shouldnt have done it

but he did

iwa ran his hands through his hair and angrily sat on his best friend’s bed, eyes shooting daggers at oikawa

‘right now. tell me the truth right fcking now or so help me god’

he hissed 

oikawa tooru shuffled closer to the wall and brought his knees up to his chest

‘im so scared’

he sobbed

‘im so scared, iwa-chan’

his tears were pouring down and he brought a hand to muffle his cries

‘i-i just w-wanted to-to see something out of her. li-like a reaction! because she wasnt like th-the others! but instead i fell in love! me! and she did too!’

he pointed and quickly stood up, pacing and gripping his hair

‘it was all just for fun! she-she knows im like that! yet she still fell in love with me!’

‘how could you tell she-’

‘BECAUSE OF HER EYES!’

even iwa flinched

‘HER EYES SHOWED ME LOVE! HAPPINESS! AN-AND YOU KNOW WHAT SHE DID?! WHEN SHE GOT HOME?! THROUGH HER WINDOW, I SAW HER DANCING! SO HAPPY SHE WAS DRAGGING THAT BASTARD COUSIN OF HERS AROUND! I DID THAT! I CAUSED THAT!’

there was so much confusion in this poor spiky haired boy bc he knew oikawa was in love with their manager so why is he avoiding her now even though she reciprocates those feelings?

‘im missing something here, oikawa. youre telling me, she loves you, but youre here regretting that?’

his tone of disbelief made oikawa shut his eyes in frustration

‘DONT YOU UNDERSTAND?! YOU CALL ME A PIECE OF SHIT EVERYDAY AND I KNOW THAT! I FCKING KNOW THAT IM A PIECE OF SHIT AND A FCKING BASTARD!’

he shrieked

thankfully, his family wasnt home currently to see him breakdown

‘SO WHY THE HELL DO I DESERVE A LITERAL ANGEL?! A GODDESS?! A BEAUTIFUL PERSON FOR ME?! A FCKED UP NARCISSIST EGOTISTICAL IDIOT?! AN IDIOT WHO’S TOO PRIDEFUL TO GET THE HELP HE NEEDS?! I COULD HURT HER! I COULD DESTROY HER IN A SINGLE SNAP! THE SCARIEST FACT IS I COULD DO IT WITHOUT THINKING! I COULD SAY THE WORST THINGS TO HER AND IM SO SCARED THAT I WILL HURT HER! I DONT DESERVE HER, IWA! SHE DESERVES SOME-SOMEONE LIKE YOU! AND IT HURTS TO THINK THAT BUT I DONT CARE! A-AND WHAT IF WE GET TOGETHER?! HM?! HOW LONG DO YOU THINK IT WOULD TAKE HER TILL SHE FINDS SOMEONE BETTER?! HOW MUCH CAN SHE TAKE OF GOING THROUGH EPISODES OF SOME DEPRESSED, INSECURE, PRIDEFUL ASHOLE LIKE ME?! HOW LONG DO YOU THINK SHE WOULD REALIZE HER SELF-WORTH AND KNOW HOW MUCH OF A SHITTY PERSON I AM?! I CANT-!’

iwaizumi pushed himself up from the bed and rushed to grab his best friend before forcing the brown haired boy to his chest

oikawa tooru was having a panic attack

he heaved and wheezed and loudly let out his cries and iwa made them sit on the floor where he could comfortably cry

‘youre such an idiot, tooru. but she knows that, doesn’t she? she knows who you are, what you are, how you are, your flaws, everything- she knows all that. yet she still fell for you, doesnt that tell you something? for once in your life, consider other people’s feelings before yours. y/n is one hell of a girl and i wont allow you to let her slip past you just like that. i know- we all know- how much of a broken person you are, oikawa, and it hurts us all to know that no matter what we do, we can never fix you. but y/n-gosh, y/n is the only person to even have a chance to do that. and you admitted that youre depressed and you have a problem? well,, get some help for that, oikawa. the first step to be better is by accepting the only person who can accept you for you’

iwaizumi didnt reveal to the other third years of what happened but just said that oikawa did a really terrible thing to you and hes currently repenting for it

however mattsun and makki pretended they didnt hear oikawa regretting it and focused on the fact that the captain even had the NERVE to hurt you

iwa squeezed you tightly and you returned the hug

but he whispered something in your ear

‘everyone makes mistakes, y/n. the only thing we can do is to repent for them’

you pulled away, about to ask him what hes talking about but one look from his eyes made you realize what he was talking about

he mustve known what happened but hes defending him

you clenched your jaw and looked away

‘i destroyed myself for a stupid reason and its one of my regrets. im not going to make the same mistake twice’

you quietly hissed and moved to your station by the bench to begin taking your notes

you noticed that oikawa was late for practice today and although you kinda hate him, you are still a manager first and he was one of your responsibilities

you were about to go to the coach and tell him you’d look for the setter when the gym door slid and in came the devil himself

but there was a large bruise on his cheek and a cut on his lip

your feet moved quicker than the rest of you that you were in front of him in a second

‘what happened to you’

you worriedly asked and oikawa just stared at you

his eyes shook and watered at the sight of you

this was the first time you talked to him without any coldness in your tone and he missed it

he missed hearing you

his silence made you roll your eyes and you roughly grabbed his arm before throwing him on the bench you were sitting on

the team watched, on edge of whats happening, but was put back to practice when you gave them a side-eye

your fingers opened the ointment and your kit to treat the bleeding lip and the swollen side of his face

‘youre the captain. its not wise to fight before practice and be late. youre hindering everyone else’

you coldly scolded and oikawa shrank back

‘it was iwa-chan’

he mumbled and you stopped and quirked an eyebrow

‘what? why did he-’

then you froze

iwa knew

and he beat oikawa up for it

he fought his best friend for it

and iwa didnt look fazed at all

despite being a muscle freak, iwa was very soft and his iron defiency made him prone to bruising

yet why was he so clean

it was like iwa hit oikawa but in turn, the other didnt fight back

no

you must stop

youre overthinking again and youre over analyzing it and youll end up at the place you were before

however

oikawa noticed the dawn of realization on your face and he shakily reached out to touch your hand

‘i,,, didnt. because i deserved it. i-’

he sniffed and you knew he would start crying right now

the last thing he wanted would be to cry in front of the others so you immediately stood up and went to the coach

‘coach, oikawa-san needs treatment that i dont currently have with me. i would need to take him to the infirmary’

he nodded and waved you off so you had the clear

oikawa flinched when you harshly grabbed his arm and pulled him up so he could follow you out the door

it was such an awkward silence between you both but you bit your lip, focusing on the fact that you were just doing this bc he was your obligation

it was like you threw him to one of the cots then you rummaged through the medicine cabinet for an extra cotton ball and a better ointment

‘i fcked up, y/n’

your movements halted and your eyes drifted down, looking at the tiled floor

‘i messed up so bad’

he hoarsely said and you could tell how much pain he was going through by the way he let out a shaky breath

‘oika-’

you made a move to turn around but he stopped you

‘no! dont look at me! just-just dont,,, i cant-i wont be able to say it if i look at you’

he cried and you nodded

oikawa leaned his forehead on his intertwined hands with his eyes on the floor before starting

‘i want to say im sorry. because everything, all of this, it all started as a game to me’

you closed your eyes tightly, tears welling up in your eyes

‘you,,, you didnt bat a single eyelash at me. you didnt try to please me, you didnt chase after me, no, you didnt see me like that. it made me,,, i dont know,,, confused,,, that girls like you even existed. it,,, not gonna lie, ticked me off and i was offended that you brushed me away so easily like i was some,, some bug on your shoulder. so,,, i wanted to see,,, and try,,, if i could make you,,, like me. and i know! i know its messed up but god y/n i swear i didnt want to hurt you. i just,,, i wanted to see if i could ever make you look at me like the way they did but it backfired. i wanted you to chase me but in the end, i ended up chasing after you. i chased and i ran without knowing that you were slowing down for me so i could catch you. that,,, that date made me realize of how,,, how perfect and beautiful you are a-and how unworthy i am to even receive anything from you. i saw how happy you were after that, dancing, twirling that poor idiot around. at first,, it made me so so proud. and so happy that i made you do that. i put those stars from the sky into your eyes and somehow you made them shine much brighter. then,,,, i got scared. i started thinking about,,, about me. and how i am. ive been trying so hard to please other people that ive lost sight of the real me and how terrible i am. and y-you! i just- y/n its so hard for me to explain all this right now- my current mental state, the pain on my face- i cant,,, but at that moment i realized that you,,, you were better off without me. youre so kind, so beautiful, so smart, you could go do so many good things in life. and im just going to hold you back. i didnt want to hurt you so i,,, chose to just cut the string now and,, we wont get hurt later. but,,, i regret it. i regret it so much, y/n. all my life,,, everyone cooed and awed at this child just because of how he looked like and,,, he got used to it. everyone wanted me because i am oikawa tooru but they didnt want the entire oikawa tooru. iwa,,, iwa hit it into my head that,,, you,, were the only one who bothered to even see that side of me’

when he finished, he looked up but gasped at the sight of you standing in front of him

fat tears were rolling down your face and you wore the angriest expression

‘i-,,,i hate you so much, oikawa tooru’

you seethed

your eyebrows were scrunched up together and your nostrils flared as you cried harder and you let out a cry

‘i hate you, i hate you, i hate you’

you chanted and oikawa saw his vision cracking

his world was now falling apart

he did the last thing he would ever do and you were now at your most pained moment

‘youre so selfish, impulsive, and terrible’

you whined and punched his shoulder at each word

‘but i love you so much. i hate you because you made me cry and made me feel so hurt but i still love you. why-why cant you stop playing your games, tooru? stop playing with me now! stop it! stop-!’

you didnt get to say anything else because he grabbed your waist and held you in his arms

it was like you didnt even weigh a thing by the way he lifted you to sit on his lap and he gently led your face to his neck

‘im so sorry’

he repeated constantly while brushing your hair and rubbing your waist

you and oikawa tooru spent an hour sitting on that bed just crying 

after a while, you stopped and resulted to just hiccuping

‘youre selfish, tooru. you listened to yourself and did whatever you wanted rather than talking to me. i hate you but i,,, i love you, oikawa-san. i shouldnt say that but if i dont, im afraid you’ll go ahead and do something stupid again’

he chuckled but he squeezed you tighter

‘i dont,,, want to let you go, y/n-chan. let me be selfish a little longer and love you all to myself’

and by god did he become selfish

it took you a while to get over your defensive and guarded actions from him but you were slowly finding yourself forgiving him

YO IM SORRY BUT I WOULDVE DROPPED HIM LIKE PLEASE WHAT THE HECK Y/N REALLY REALLY LOVES THIS GUY

natsu absolutely despises him still and whenever oikawa even comes over, hes always glaring at him and oikawa would shift uncomfortably but accept it bc he deserved it

‘i didnt realize how badly i hurt you, y/n. i could never imagine you accepting me still. ill spend the rest of my life making it up to you’

he promised and you laughed

you were both lounging on your bedroom floor, mean girls playing in the background, while just staring at the ceiling

you brought your clasped hands up so you could look at it

then a goofy smile settled on your face and you turned to look at him

‘just continue loving me, oikawa-san. thats all i ask for’

then graduation came

of course the boys were all teary but oikawa seemed even more sad and he refused to look at you the whole day

you figured it could just be him being mopey over not seeing you everyday like he was able to before

then you both were walking home and he still hasnt looked at you

the silence was killing you but you just kept a tight grip on his hand and he would smile at you and kiss your hands

it still didnt wash away the odd feeling in your stomach but you would talk to him later after you gave him present

for the weekend, you were able to convince your parents to go on a beach trip at okinawa while you made natsu go over to tokyo and stay with katsuki

oikawa didnt know your family was out so he stood by your door, waiting for you to enter

you both stood there, staring at the floor, not knowing what to say

until you softly grabbed his hand

‘come in. i want,,, to talk’

you mumbled and oikawa’s eyes widened, silently panicking that you possibly found out

it was a secret not even iwaizumi knew so you couldnt have known

right?

you led him up to your room and pushed him down to sit on your bed

FLKDSJFLKDJ WHY AM I DOING THIS WHAT IS HAPPENING SOSOSOSOSOSOSOS

ALSO Y/N IS NOW 17 ON THIS YOU GUYS LIKE BLS SHES ONE OF THE OLDEST IN HER CLASS BC HER BIRTHDAY SITUATION SO SHES BEYOND THE AGE OF CONSENT IN JAPAN, RIGHT?

oikawa was confused and he watched you bite your lip and look off to the side

‘y/n-chan? why are you nervous? you said you wanted to talk?’

he asked

but you unzipped your skirt and let it drop on the floor

‘for graduating,,, and working hard for these years,,, im giving you this’

you finally met his eyes

then he knew

oikawa blanched and he quickly stood up and placed his hands on your shoulder

‘y-y/n! uh-i-are you sure? a-arent you-’

‘accept it, tooru. youre,,, my first love,,, so,,,, ill give you my other first’

KSDLFJSDKFJSDLK OKAY YALL LETS STOP THERE FOR NOW AND GO TO THE TIMESKIP OKAY?

OKAY

-----

oikawa was running in the airport

despite the shouts of civilians he accidentally pushed, he made no sign of stopping and if anything, ran faster till he reached outside

the rush of his sudden trip home was clear as he was only carrying a duffel bag full of clothing he hurriedly stuffed inside 

when he met the orange ninja boy in brazil, he quickly caught up with his underclassman and got drinks to talk about japan the last 2 years of his career

they both got simple beers and some appetizer to share as they reminisced the past

hinata was excitedly talking about the reconciliation of kindaichi and kageyama and how they were still enemies on court but were now friends

‘eh~? tobio-chan making up with kin-chan? what’s next? flying sushi?’

he joked and hinata laughed

‘it was partly of your manager, oikawa-san! she helped them make up!’

the previous smile on oikawa’s face slipped at the mention of you 

‘hmm,,,, she always made the impossible happen’

he mumbled and hinata nodded

‘l/n-chan became close to kageyama through kindaichi and kunimi and she would bring us food and stuff too! but only on times she wasn’t busy’

the ninja said and dipped his chip into the salsa while oikawa stared at the liquid

‘you guys must be special for her to go all the way to karasuno’

then hinata said something that caused the brunette’s ears to fall deaf to the loudness of the bar

‘it wasn’t a problem since coach ukai took care of her son’

oikawa didnt even give hinata another word when he rushed out of that bar after overcoming his shock and straight into his apartment

there were tears that blurred his vision as he shoved in shirts and pants and other necessities for a trip to japan

he argued with the front desk lady to give him a ticket to the earliest flight to japan despite her saying that it was hard to give him a seat when the plane was full

but luck seemed to pity this baby daddy as someone pulled their ticket out and he was able to take it for himself

it was the longest journey of his life and his hour long layover gave him an opportunity to call the only person he thought would even know where you were

iwaizumi

oikawa paced at the waiting lobby with his phone pressed to his ear as he listened to the ringing of his call

he bit his lip in anticipation and ran his fingers through his hair for the upteenth time until finally it was picked up

‘damn you, shittykawa, do you understand what time-’

‘iwaizumi, is y/n still in japan?’

of course his best friend was startled with the question as the setter hasnt asked him any question related to you in a few years

‘wha-how the hell am i supposed to know that? im in california, oikawa’

‘dont lie to me. she still talks to you since youre probably the godfather of my son’

he hissed and iwaizumi was now fully awake and his heartbeat was beating quite quickly 

how did he figure out

‘oi, oikawa, listen to me she-’

‘please! dont!’

he shouted and didnt care if he startled anyone else around him

‘dont lie to me! of all people! you dont lie to me!’

‘why should i tell you when you were the one who up and ran? huh?’

oikawa fell silent and iwaizumi could hear his sobs through the phone

iwa sat up on his bed, leaning against the wall as he contemplated revealing this secret you begged him to keep since his best friend sounded like he was on the verge of breaking apart

poor oikawa tooru already suffered so much

‘i swear youre going to make me regret this. but y/n is in,,,, tokyo and,,,,, she,,,,,, didnt want you to know about,,,, about everything. well-she did want to tell you but she had her own reasons not to and,,, and its perfectly valid for her to choose whatever she wanted. and yes, i knew and yes, i am his godfather but please, oikawa, whatever you do, dont go to japan, you understand? shes still hurt by it, idiot, and shes angry and you sound angry and-’

but of course,

oikawa didnt listen and he hung up but continued his pacing but this time, tears blurring his vision

the taxi driver noticed his frazzled expression and quickly stopped in front of him

oikawa gratefully hopped in and quickly told the driver the address he forced out of iwaizumi (with great reluctance)

‘this is the last time, understand me, tooru? youve already hurt her so many times and i cant bear to see it all over again so you need to fix it. but you mess this up again, not only will you lose her, you’ll lose me too’

the old man felt sorry for the young lad and stepped on the pedal to get him to his destination in the quickest time 

the apartment building was several stories tall yet the elevator ride felt like a snap when he finally arrived at the floor your apartment was supposedly on

what the real kicker was when he stood outside your door and he hesitated

would you let him in?

would you even want to see him?

would you punch him?

would you cry?

he was so worried but didnt realize that he already pushed the doorbell and a faint shout from inside made his heart jump

‘UNCLE KYOOoooo,,,,,’

the door opened and the boy’s voice went quiet, knowing this wasnt the man he was expecting and he quickly and harshly slammed the door shut to his face

oikawa was stunned

was this the right apartment?

did iwaizumi trick him?

but those thoughts were wiped away when the door opened again and a girl was softly chiding the boy before turning around with a smile to greet the person but then it fell

similar to her son, she slammed the door shut and oikawa panicked

‘y-y/n? h-hey!’

he exclaimed and with a clenched fist, he stood there

you were hyperventilating inside

how did he find you?

why is he here?

does he know?

‘mama? who’s that oji?’

the bright eyes of yozora looked up at you and you blinked, briefly seeing the man behind the door at the face of your son

you sucked in a deep breath before smiling lightly

‘yoyo-kun, can you go play with dino-kun while mama and oji talk?’

yozora blinked back up at you before shrugging and nodding and running off to your shared room

once he was gone, you quickly composed yourself and opened the door again, shocked to see oikawa already half-way down the hallway to the elevator

‘would you like some tea before you go?’

you called out and he stopped, almost giving himself whiplash at how fast he turned his head

it was like his instincts took over when your voice started speaking to him

as if he was 18 again, oikawa found himself trailing after your voice and you nervously led him inside

his eyes were moving really fast as if he wanted to quickly soak it all in before it would disappear

this was where you lived

with your son

who was his son too

there was a picture by the door of you and the little boy from earlier

it was at the planetarium nearby and tooru’s heart bloomed at the sparkle in that child’s eyes

jesus, he was beautiful

‘yozora. thats his name’

you said, noticing him staring at the picture

KDFLJSDKFSD PRINCE NOCTIS LUCIS CAELUM BABIESSS!!!

‘night sky’

oikawa whispered

the teapot was still hot and you were able to pour him a cup so you both sat on the dining table where he sat across from you

‘n-nice place’

he stuttered out

you nodded, tracing the rim of your own cup

‘its natsu’s and katsuki’s actually. my parents kicked me out so they offered to let me stay with them’

you reasoned, not meaning to sound cold but it came out as if you were being passive agressive

‘o-oh? ho-how is he-’

‘oikawa-san, what are you doing here?’

he visibly flinched

calling him by his last name stung since you called him ‘tooru’ the whole relationship so returning to his surname is your way of cutting off the whole thing

‘i,,, i found out. a few days ago. from shoyo. he told me their coach looked after yozora and,,, i knew he is,,, mine’

you let out a humorless chuckle

a scoff

then you looked up to meet his gaze, oikawa gulping at the hardness in your eyes

‘what makes you think so? what makes you think that i wasnt angry and spiteful enough to give myself to someone else so they could have what the great oikawa tooru had? what makes you think that i would remain loyal to you despite you just running off to the other side of the fcking world without a word? hm? oikawa-san? what.makes.you.think.so?’

out of guilt, he broke the stare to his own steaming cup of green tea

‘nothing’

you whispered

he shakingly sighed and you could tell he was about to cry

but you rolled your eyes and crossed your arms

‘go ahead and cry, oikawa-san. im used to temper tantrums. i have a son for god’s sake’

‘you would never do that to me, y/n. you promised that you would always love me and only me and i know you take promises to your grave’

he reasoned but it sounded like it was him convincing himself

the dry laugh you let out made him fidget

‘and you promised that you would always talk to me and communicate. yours is a much lighter and easier promise than mine yet you get to break it and i can’t? no, oikawa-san. to me, its like that year never even happened’

you were now just trying to rile him up due to your anger towards him

you shouldve let him walk to the elevator and leave and never come back

but you still invited him in anyways

oikawa snapped his head up

‘you cant say that or mean it, y/n. that boy over there, hes a reminder of me. he looks exactly like me so you cant ever forget what we have’

‘what he had. it was simply the past, years ago, and everything has changed since then. dont you dare try to dig up buried secrets, oikawa’

‘but why did you keep him from me?’

he pleaded, desperate for any answer as to why

‘i had every right. the moment you boarded that plane, he no longer was yours. you left, i stayed, and you cant just come back here and-’

‘mama?’

a small voice from the corner halted your loud voice and you and tooru looked at him

oikawa yozora was exactly like his father

from his loud and obnoxious personality to even the brown hair and brown eyes

KFDSLJFKDS REMEMBER THAT KID FROM OLD UKAI’S VOLLEYBALL CLUB?! THATS WHAT HE LOOKS LIKE!!

he looked absolutely nothing like you and people even get confused when you say hes your son

um maam i think hes my son since he came out of me

so oikawa was right

yozora was your daily reminder of the mistakes of your youth but he was anything but that as he is the greatest thing to ever happen to you

yozora became your light when you fell into depression after oikawa ran away

sure, your parents absolutely loathed poor child as he is a child of a child

but you kept him because he means the world to you

and the world he holds are in his eyes

‘i,, i heard yelling,,, and,,, thought mama and oji were sad,,, so,,, i bring my,,, star book because,,, it makes me happy,,, and i think,,, mama and oji will,,, be happy too’

he mumbled out and you smiled at him before moving to go to him but oikawa stopped you

his eyes begged you and you glared at him, deciding to withdraw

if he decides to do anything, you could always knee him between the legs

he slowly approached yozo and kneeled down to reach eye-level

‘hello, my name is oikawa tooru’

he softly introduced himself and yozora just stared at him

‘you oikawa too? but i oikawa! mama is he me?!’

yozora shouted and you giggled, running to take him into your arms

‘oh, darling, how curious you are. oji isnt you, baby. he just,,, has the same last name as you. like mama has hers but you have,,, oji’s’

your eyes drifted to oikawa but he remained on the floor, staring at the spot where yozo stood on

you kept his last name

you listened to him from that night at the hill by naming his son after the night sky

my god, you are so,,, 

‘--the book. oji? do you?’

he was brought back to reality when your son was now back on the floor and poking his shoulder

tooru blinked and looked at him

‘huh?’

‘i ask if you want to read my book with me, oji. mama say she happy but you still sad so my book make you happy’

not even an hour of meeting him, oikawa tooru already loves him

the volleyball player nodded and yozora offered a tiny hand to which he accepted

‘this way. mama say to read so she make food. i like food, do you like food, oji? i like food. i like milk bread. mama say papa like it so i like what papa like. i want papa to come home. sit there’

tooru’s heart beat faster every word his child uttered and it even went faster when he saw yozo struggle to get up on the couch

the pair of big hands that brought him on the cushion made him happily sigh then uttered a small ‘thank you’

‘my mama say that my papa give me my book and say to take care of it until he come back. and she say he come back when im a master of space! so i study and read my book every day and know all so papa can hurry home!’

tooru didnt even notice tears falling down his face until yozo blinked up at him with his small hands grasping his cheeks to wipe it off

‘why you cry, oji? no sad! no sad! here! i read my book so you not cry’

he babbled and quickly pried the book open and read out the words on the page, not realizing he was saying most of it wrong

that book was oikawa’s

the book that he read all the time in the bus and now, it was passed on to his son

you leaned against the wall and gasped at the sight of yozo just babbling and oikawa crying

‘yoyo-kun? what did you do to tooru?’

you fussed and sat down next to oikawa

yozo worriedly looked at him and now his own eyes were watering and soon enough, you have 2 boys crying in your living room

GURL IM SORRY BUT I WOULDA KICKED OUT OIKAWA LIKE NOT EVEN OFFER HIM TEA OR ANYTHING IM SORRY IM TIRED AND IDK WHATS GOING ON

‘a-ah, y-yozo! yozo-kun! oji is,,, just,,, uh,, sad because,, because pluto isnt a planet anymore!’

yozo sniffled and he went closer to oikawa

‘me too, oji. yoyo sad too because pluto is just small. other planet are onii-chan and onee-chan but pluto is baby so they not like him’

he rambled and oikawa pulled him closer

‘mama, can we keep oji? nana-san and katsu-san will like him! promise!’

you couldnt even believe what was going on right now

not only did your baby daddy ex-boyfriend suddenly pop up, your son was now wanting to keep him

you made a move to of course deny his request but oikawa opened his mouth first

‘yozora-kun, of course you could keep me. im your papa, after all’

OKAY THAT WAS IT

YOU DID NOT WANT HIM TO SAY THAT TO YOZORA

out of shock, you slapped him across the face

causing yanno what happened

oikawa screamed

a/n: yoooooo SO LIKE THIS IS RIDICULOUS LIKE THIS IS BOOTY IM SORRY BUT THIS IS ALSO IN MY GOING TO EDIT LIST AND I CHOSE THIS OUT OF MY 10 OTHER VERSIONS OF THIS ROUTE AND I MAY OR MAY NOT RELEASE ANOTHER ONE JUST TO MAKE UP FOR IT. but try not to let this flop 🥺 👉👈

ALSO CHI THAT K+Y AND THE T+Y IS ON THE WORKS RN AND IM LIKE HALF WAY DONE SO I MIGHT RELEASE THEM BOTH AT THE SAME TIME

[ahsbitch]

The Grey-Outpost!Michael Langdon x Reader

Word Count: 5143

Summary: So I got this message for my prompts and it was supposed to just be a blurb like the others but it was already getting way too long and then I realized it would fit really well with a oneshot idea I had a month or two ago sooo here we are

Warnings: so many, nsfw, smut, virginity loss, first time, first orgasm, actually first three lmao, fingering, choking, Mean!Michael, slapping, overstimulation, emotional manipulation, brief blowjob, unprotected sex, breeding kink, a little bit of corset kink, some cockwarming bc it’s me, very Sub!Reader, also overly nice reader which probably doesn’t need a warning but I’m putting it anyway, , mentions of violence, some waxing poetic bc again that’s just me, floor licking, some?underwear stuff? Idk man, did I mention swearing bc that’s here too, idk, that’s all I can think of but my brain is not entirely focused so if I missed something I’m sorry

A/N: I’m sorry I’m like this but I hope it’s okay. Comments are always appreciated! Even just in the tags of a reblog! Or a message! Or anything! Hearing your reactions makes me feel so good!

Mini Tag List: @wroteclassicaly​ @michaellangdonstanaccount​ @guiltyfiend​

@angelicmichael​

(i actually don’t remember if all of you asked to be tagged in stuff or not so if you didn’t i’m really sorry i just thought i’d put a few people, if you want me to...Not tag you in stuff that’s totally cool and i totally get it just let me know, if you do want me to tag you in stuff also let me know on that front) 

You confused Michael Langdon. 

It wasn’t intentional, he was sure, but he was not used to being confused by the behavior of humans.

You also annoyed him, although that was less surprising. 

Most people annoyed him. 

But you annoyed him for the same reason that you confused him, and that just made him all the more confused and annoyed and annoyed and confused. 

How the hell were you so nice? 

You treated everyone who crossed your path with such kindness, even though most of them treated you like you were dog shit on the bottom of their shoe. And you simply...smiled? Nodded? Did as they said, if they gave an order, or ignored them if it was just words. 

He had never even seen you complain about your servant status, never seen you look at the drab grey of your dress with even an ounce of disdain. 

He’d taken to reading your thoughts, even more than he did with the others, trying to find the cruelty hidden inside you. 

Once, one of the Purples whose name Michael hadn’t bothered to learn had walked into a ladder that you were standing on for some job or another, and you had fallen to the ground, landing hard on your back. The Purple had cursed at you for getting in his way, and you apologized instantly. 

What an asshole, You had thought, and Michael had started to get excited, but a moment later you had shaken your head at yourself, and your thoughts continued, No, Y/N, don’t be unfair. They live a different type of life here. It’s not his fault that he sees me like this at this point, he’s practically been indoctrinated.

What utter bullshit that was, and yet you’d seemed completely contented with that thought, climbing back onto the ladder to finish your task. 

Another time he had walked in on you being beaten while Venable watching, smirking. He had simply stared for a while, watching the way you took your blows. 

“What’s going on?” Michael had asked, blood boiling at Venable’s smug expression. 

“A reminder. She’s been a bit slow in her work lately. Distracted, I think, with your proposal of paradise. She needed to remember her place.” 

He had nodded, turning back to observe you, listening for your reaction to those words. 

I haven’t been slower, though. She’s just been angrier. Poor Ms. Venable, she must be scared. I wish she wouldn’t take it out on me, Your stream of thought had paused as you let out a cry of pain, But I hope that she’ll find some type of peace. 

In interviews, Michael had started to ask about you. 

“She’s nice,” Gallant had said rather dismissively, “That’s about it. Not memorable. I don’t think anyone would miss her.” 

“She helps everyone finish their work, even though she has her own,” Another Grey had said, tilting his head to the side in thought, “I saw her take a beating in Mallory’s place once for a broken lamp. I don’t think that’s the only time she’s done that, either. She’s a little too sweet, almost. It can’t be real, can it?”

That was Michael’s thought too, but you were that sweet, or so it seemed. 

He’d begun instructing everyone during their interviews to either completely ignore you or be cruel to you, to treat you with extra disdain, to not bother with respect. He’d told Purples and Greys alike, had watched out to see them following his orders. They were doing it, and you were slowly becoming more and more alone,and yet you never so much as thought anything cruel in return. From time to time, a nasty thought would pop into your head, but you always brushed it away almost instantly, scolding yourself into something overly forgiving of their behavior. Still, you were lonelier than ever, and that meant that it would be all the easier to draw you to him. 

Your interview was the last one that was scheduled, and with every moment that led up to it he found himself getting more and more ready to break you down, and every time he thought of that he found his cock getting harder and harder. 

He was going to ruin you, in more ways than one. 

And then the interview had started, you sitting in your chair with your hands folded neatly in your lap, steadfastly avoiding eye contact with him, a polite smile on your face, and something had snapped deep inside him. 

He wasn’t sure what did it. Maybe it was your answer to why you should be taken to the Sanctuary. 

“I don’t know that I should,” You’d said simply, your damned respectful smile never wavering, “I mean, it would be nice. But I’m not particularly special, right? And if the Sanctuary is meant to be people carrying on the human race, shouldn’t it be the people who are going to make the biggest difference? I know you said that what I thought i was weakness could be my saving, and I get that, I just don’t know if I have any particular weaknesses or any particular saving graces. If you need someone to wash floors or cook in the Sanctuary, then yeah, I’m pretty good at those things. You might want me. But I don’t know that I have any particular talents or powers that would make me more useful than anyone else.” 

Maybe it was what you had said when he’d asked about your anger, about whether or not you would get revenge on any of the others for the way they’d treated you, if you got the chance.

You shrugged, taking a few moments to think about your answer before you spoke, “No. I don’t blame them for it, not really. The world ended. The fact that any of us are alive is strange enough as it is. Them being cruel is probably more of a defense mechanism than anything else. I wish they wouldn’t use me for their anger, or their disdain, or their sadness, I kinda wish they’d just leave me alone sometimes, but I wouldn’t want to get revenge even if I got the chance. I don’t think they deserve to be treated badly, even if they’ve treated me badly.” 

But most likely, it had been your answer when he’d asked what exactly you were thinking about right in that moment. 

“The end of the world, Mr. Langdon, sir,” Your smile finally dropped for just a moment, your embarrassment evident, “And your eyes. They’re very beautiful. I was thinking that heaven probably isn’t real, but if it is, it probably looks something like your eyes. But of course it’s much more likely that hell is real, based on recent events, in which case it probably looks something like the world we live in right now.” 

Michael had stood, instructing you to do the same, and within moments his lips were on yours. 

Yes, he was going to ruin you in every way possible. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This was so totally not how you had planned for your interview to go. 

Was it how Langdon had planned for it to go? Maybe. You wondered vacantly if this had happened with all of his other interviews, if all of them had found themselves lying on the floor, pinned underneath him, feeling him hungrily devouring their mouths in perhaps the best kiss that anyone had ever experienced. 

He trailed kisses down to your throat, hot, open mouthed, that you felt even though they were over the high collar of your dress, and he bit down hard, sucking harshly through the fabric. 

“Fuck!” You groaned out, feeling your skin go hot with embarrassment over the noises you were making. 

“Don’t hold back, pet,” He moved his mouth to your ear, kissing the spot just behind your earlobe as he murmured, “You make the most delightful little noises.” 

This served only to embarrass you more, and you chewed on the inside of your cheek to try and hide the moans that threatened to spill from you. 

Langdon’s hand made its way to your neck, squeezing at it as he pulled your head up closer to his, and you let out a pained whine at the pressure his palm put onto the sore spot he had just left on your throat, “Did you not hear me? Don’t hold back. I expect you to follow my orders. I’d think you’d be used to that by now.” 

“I’m sorry, sir,” You let out a strangled cry, and with a sharp smile he finally released you, letting your head drop back against the floor. 

“Next time you don’t listen to me, you will be,” He chuckled at your terrified expression, but after a moment he froze, raising a curious eyebrow at you, “What are you thinking about right now?” 

You weren’t naive enough to think that he actually cared about how you were feeling, but you answered anyway, scared of what may happen if you didn’t, “Honestly? I’m trying to decide if I’m more likely to be murdered by you or by Ms. Venable.” 

Langdon laughed again, moving off of you and leaning against the wall. He looked oddly comfortable like that, although you wouldn’t be surprised if his outfit cost more than the entire Outpost, and with a wolfish grin he patted his lap gently. 

You frowned, unsure of what that meant, but Langdon simply rolled his eyes and wrapped a hand around your wrist, tugging you into his lap. 

This was… odd.

After a moment, he gripped both of your wrists, raising your arms up and placing them on his shoulders, and you locked your fingers around the back of his neck, staring dumbly at him as you did so. 

His legs extended straight out, but he held you steady in his lap, arm wrapped your hips, your own legs perpendicular to his. 

This was very odd. 

“Now tell me,” It was interesting, the way Langdon’s words sounded more like a purr, “Why do you think that I would kill you?” 

Shyly you dropped your gaze, but then his hand was under your chin, lifting until you looked him in the eye, and you shrugged, “I mean… you said you would. It was like the first thing you told me when I came in. That if I lied or hedged or anything like that you’d...y’know...obliterate me.” 

“And have you lied to me?” His voice was sharp now, his eyes dangerous, although something playful still danced around the edges of his lips. 

“No!” You flinched, prepared for him to hit you even though he made no movement to do so, and after a minute, after you’d realized that no strike was coming, you blinked at him, “I, uh, no, sir. But you’re, well, forgive me for saying so, Mr. Langdon, but you’re very intimidating.” 

He was frowning now, just a little, and you probably wouldn’t have even noticed if you hadn’t been so fascinated by his mouth, “I’m glad you find me intimidating. I’d be a bit concerned for your sanity if you didn’t. But I have no plans at the moment to kill you, and as long as you keep telling me the truth like this, I doubt it’ll arise. Now, why would Venable kill you?” 

“She’s strict about her rules,” You felt your face heating up again, “No sexual contact of any kind. And we, y’know, we kissed. If she finds out, well, she’d even kill a Purple for breaking the rules so explicitly like that. She’d kill a Grey for a lot less.” 

“And we’ll be doing a lot more,” Langdon’s smooth voice echoed in your ears, and you shivered slightly at the insinuation, “Venable will not touch you.”

“Why not?” Your curiosity got the better of you, and you asked before you could think about the fact that it was probably a bad idea. 

Luckily, Langdon did nothing more than chuckle at you again, shifting slightly underneath you, “Because if anyone here is going to harm you, pet, it’s going to be me.” 

For some reason, his words made you clench your thighs, and you swallowed to avoid letting out a whine. 

“Yes sir,” You said softly, and then, when he’d started pressing kisses along your jaw, “There’s one more thing.” 

“And what would that be?” 

Clearing your throat, you fought to keep holding eye contact with him, “I don’t, I mean, I don’t want to be one of those people who fucks someone to get something. I don’t want to sleep with you just in hopes of going to the Sanctuary, especially because you could easily say you’re going to take me until after we’re done and then tell me you’ve changed your mind or something. I don’t want that. I’d rather you just... tell me the truth now.” 

“Alright,” Sighing, Langdon straightened up a little, shifting beneath you again so that you suddenly became aware of his erection pressing into you, “You’re not going to the Sanctuary, Y/N. Not even if we fuck. And we are going to fuck, you understand that, right?” 

“Yes sir,” You felt your gaze drop to his lips once more, “I understand. The Sanctuary thing and the fucking thing. May I please kiss you again?” 

“Not only may you do so, but I insist that you do,” His voice was cold now, but one look into his eyes showed you that he was pleased about this, and you frantically brought your mouth to his. 

Langdon slammed you back to the ground, and your head cracked loudly against the marble floor, making you feel a bit dizzy, and then his fingers found their way between the buttons of your dress and he pulled sharply, ripping it in half, and that made you feel even dizzier.

Holy fuck, how strong was he? 

“Lovely,” He murmured, his mouth running over your collarbones and up the curves of your neck, sucking dark bruises onto your skin as he went, “Don’t forget what I told you. I want to hear every single one of your sounds, understood?”

“Yes sir,” Your hands made their way to his hair almost of their own accord as he continued on, mouth drifting down to swirl over your covered nipples. 

“Turn around,” Langdon commanded, and he hummed his approval when you followed his instructions in merely a moment, kneeling before him but facing the wall. 

His long fingers made their way to the ties of your corset, beginning to work on the knot, and he frowned, “This is tied very tightly, pet. Doesn’t it hurt?” 

“I had Mallory tie it extra tightly for me, so I would have something to focus on other than my nerves for the interview,” You let out a hiss of relief as the corset came untied, “It wouldn’t hurt much, but you’re supposed to wear something under a corset, and Ms. Venable doesn’t give the Greys anything to wear under our corsets because she says our comfort isn’t a priority. So it kinda digs into my-ow, fuck, my skin.”

Your cry of distress had come when Langdon’s hands had pressed hard into the red marks that marred your back from your corset. 

“It really has done a number on you,” He helped you unclasp the front of your corset and slip it off, before bringing his hands to your hips, “Get on all fours.” 

You did as he said, unsure of why exactly he was asking you to do so, but you understood a moment later when the wet warmth of his tongue began to stroke along your spine. He licked along each mark that had been left behind, leaving a trail of coolness to follow, and although it stung with each moment of contact, it left some relief as he went. You mewled at the feeling, back arching towards him, desperate for more. 

“Feel better?” He purred, now drawing his nose around your spine.

“Yes,” You sighed pleasantly, “Thank-fuck!”

Langdon had shifted his arms so that one ran under your stomach, holding you in place, and with the other he brought his palm down on your back with all his strength. 

Tears were starting to spill from your eyes, leaving a puddle on the floor as he struck you four more times in quick, painful succession. 

“Aw, does it hurt, pet?” He was cooing at you, voice light and mocking, “Look at you. You’ve made a mess on my floor. Clean that up for me, yes?” 

Unsure of what that meant, you tried to look back at him to ask, but Langdon wrapped his hand around your neck and forced your head to the floor, his entire body pressed against yours, “Clean it up.” 

Hesitantly, you reached your tongue out to the floor, scooping the salty moisture up carefully. The pressure on your throat lightened up so that you could breathe more easily, but he didn’t remove his hand, and you frantically licked the rest of your tears off of the floor. 

Letting you sit up, he smirked at your shy smile, examining the floor carefully before praising you, “Wonderful job, pet. But it appears that the mess on the floor isn’t your only one. You seem to have made quite a mess down here as well.”

With that his hand cupped your pussy over your panties, which had become thoroughly soaked through. He pulled them down slowly, a rumble rolling past his lips at the sound the fabric made as it tried to cling to your damp flesh. He gave a tug and ripped them off of your thighs, bringing the shredded remains up to his face to examine it closely. Staring into your eyes, he poked his tongue out of his mouth and brought it to the fabric, laving slowly over the wetness that coated it. You moaned loudly at the sight, squeezing your thighs together. 

When Langdon was satisfied that he had gotten every drop of your essence off of the scraps of your underwear he tossed them carelessly in the direction of his desk, and then his tongue was on you once again, this time drawing painfully slow stripes from your knee up your inner thigh, ending just at your hip bone. 

“Did you like watching me?” There was amusement in his voice, a kind of mirth that could almost be mistaken for warmth, as he licked closer and closer to where you wanted him most, never deigning to touch you there, “Did it make you even more wet for me? Do you want me to eat your pretty little pussy until you can’t walk? Want me to let you drench my face?” 

“Please, yes, please!” You keened towards him and Langdon clamped his hands onto your thighs to hold you in place, bringing his thumbs down to spread your pussy lips open. There was something so intimately dirty about it that you let out another long moan, his breath fanning hot air against your folds, “Langdon, please, I’ll do anything you ask.”

He scoffed, nuzzling his nose over your entrance, “You’d do anything I asked anyway. But I will say, you have just about the sweetest pussy I’ve ever seen. And you smell divine, pet.” 

Whimpering, you tried to rut up to his mouth, wanting so badly to feel him against you, “Please, sir, Langdon, please, what do I have to do for you to touch me?” 

At those words, Langdon moved away from you completely, now not even letting his fingers drift over your skin, “Was I not touching you before? You’re incredibly ungrateful for someone who I could kill with less than the blink of an eye.” 

“I’m sorry,” You scrabbled to your knees, legs shaking, “I’m sorry, Mr. Langdon, I didn’t mean to be ungrateful. I’m so grateful to you, I am, I’m sorry.” 

“As you should be,” He sneered, but the bulge in his pants looked even larger than it had before, and the corners of his lips twitched up, “You do look very good on your knees for me. I think this is the position you’re meant to be in, the reason you were put on this earth. Why else would you look so lovely like this, look like such a pretty little slut? Open your mouth for me, pet.” 

This is happening. This is actually happening.

Eagerly, you complied, wrenching your mouth as wide open as you could, desperate to please him. Langdon unzipped his dress pants, reaching into his boxers and stroking himself, letting out a deep and rumbly groan as he finally pulled himself out. 

His cock was... beautiful? You hadn’t expected to find it so beautiful. The few dicks you had seen you had mostly found odd, fine enough but not particularly nice to look at, but Langdon’s looked like it had been carved by Michelangelo himself. 

It was also huge, as thick as your wrist and at least as long as your forearm, the tip a throbbing angry crimson. It was veiny, and you would’ve expected that to be strange but it just made it even prettier, an extra long and thick vein running up the side that oddly made your mouth water. 

A fresh wave of desire pulsed through you, but that didn’t stop your worry as he approached you, speaking your anxiety out loud, “Is that... I mean, is that going to fit?” 

Chuckling, Langdon pushed himself into your mouth with no warning, holding the back of your head with one hand as he began an intense, bruising pace, “What’s the matter, little whore? Never been with someone this big?”

That’s one way to put it. 

He froze suddenly, buried down your throat, his pelvic bone pressed against your nose, and slowly he looked down at you with a raised eyebrow, “Wait, you’re a virgin?”

You nodded slowly, and Langdon hissed at the movement, slowly pulling himself away from you, “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“You didn’t ask,” You shrugged, bringing a hand up to massage your jaw, “I didn’t think it would matter, I’m sorry. Does it change things?” 

Langdon gripped your hair, and he pulled you to your feet and into a bruising kiss all in one swift movement. Then his hands were all over you, stroking your skin fervently as he led you to his chair, sitting down and pulling you into his lap once more. The feeling of his dress pants against your bare skin was sinfully lovely, and you were suddenly aware of how exposed you were, when you could see almost nothing of him. 

After what felt like hours, he pulled away from you, his eyes dancing with something deeply dangerous, a brilliant smile on his face, “Of course it matters, pet I wouldn’t have even considered wasting any of my cum in your mouth if I knew your perfect cunt was untouched, waiting for me.” 

You let out a cry as he grabbed onto your hips tightly, beginning to draw you up and down over his length. His cock pressed into your folds, rubbing your clit, and every time he approached your entrance you gasped, “Holy, oh my, fuck, that feels good, Langdon I-”

“Michael,” He interrupted, moving you faster. 

“What?” You blinked up at him in confusion, and he felt his cock twitch at the sight.

“My name is Michael Langdon,” He pressed a kiss to your neck, beginning to suck a new line of hickeys, “You can call me Michael.” 

“Michael,” You sighed, clenching around nothing as a strange sensation started to boil in your stomach, something so pleasureful that you didn’t know what was happening, “Oh, fuck, Michael, you feel so good, please, can’t you just fuck me?” 

“Oh believe me, I’m going to,” His cock was twitching even more now, your name so perfect from his mouth, “But you have to be ready for it first. Come on, pet, come for me, just like this.” 

You mewled, your fingers digging into his shoulders as the boiling in your stomach became more, became overwhelming, and you squeezed your eyes shut as you let out a desperate shriek. 

“I didn’t, oh fuck, oh god, I didn’t know it would feel that good,” You panted, and Michael raised an eyebrow at you yet again as you buried your face in his shoulder. 

“Have you... have you never had an orgasm before?” 

You shook your head against him, letting out another gasp as one of his fingers started to toy around your entrance, “No, I haven’t. I mean, I thought I might have once, but it was nothing like that.”

“Have you ever had any fingers inside you?” He asked, even as he was already easing a finger into you, giving your walls a single stroke before he pushed two more in. 

“No!” You shrieked, the foreign sensation making you buck your hips wildly, “I, I mean, no, I haven’t.” 

Cock throbbing harder than ever before, Michael began to scissor his fingers around, stretching you out, “Fascinating. My little whore is so inexperienced.”

Moaning at his words, you lurched when his middle finger hit a spot deep inside you that made you see stars, “M-m-Michael, please!”

“M-m-Michael! M-m-Michael!” He mocked you, scooping the hand that wasn’t busy working you open under your ass, shifting out of the seat and lowering you to the ground, his mouth finding its way to your tits, “Wait, pet. Be a patient slut for me and you’ll be rewarded.” 

You nodded as he bit your nipple, toying with it roughly before kissing over to the other side, “Sorry, sorry, oh holy fuck that feels good.” 

Another orgasm was forming deep within you, more mewls leaving your throat as you desperately started to claw at his back, “Michael, fuck, Michael, I’m going to-”

“Good girl,” He purred, pulling his fingers out of you just as you started to cum, and then he slammed his cock into you with no warning, delighting in the bloodcurdling scream that you let out, letting out a guttural moan, “You’re so good for me, aren’t you? Desperate little slut, you were so ready for me to stretch you out, huh?”

“Wait, Michael,” You let out a sob, your cunt pulsing with overstimulation, “Michael, it’s too much, it hurts, please.” 

He was completely bottomed out in you, not moving yet, but he brought both hands up to wrap around your throat, cutting off all of your air, “Now now, pet, that’s no way to thank me for being so kind to you. You’ve cum twice now, haven’t you? And have I gotten to cum even once? No. Now, are you going to be good for me?” 

You nodded fervently, and he released you, leaving you gasping, “Sorry, sorry, Michael. I’m sorry.” 

“Good,” Michael started to pull out of you ever so slowly, moving at a glacial pace until just his tip was inside of you before thrusting in again, filling you up once more, “Oh, you feel good. Your pussy is fluttering all around me. But I should tell you, Y/N, I lied to you.” 

You let out another shaky sob as he hooked his hands under your knees and stretched your legs up, throwing them over his shoulders, continuing his pace of slow drags out followed by impossibly fast thrusts in, your hands scrambling for purchase on the smooth silk that covered his back, “Wh-what? What do you mean?” 

“I told you I wasn’t going to take you to the Sanctuary,” He grunted, his pace getting somehow even slower, in and out both, your slapping skin making loud, lewd noises, “I lied. I am. I’m going to pump you full of my cum, pet, until you’re overflowing with me. I’m going to breed you like the whore you are, and then we’re going to rule over the new world, together.” 

“I don’t understand,” Shrieking again, a whine bubbling out of your throat, you gasped as his hands moved to your tits once more, “Please, Michael, please can you go faster?”

It still hurt, but it was getting better, the pain being overrun with the pleasure. 

Michael complied, slamming into you, setting such a brutal, bruising pace that you were sure you could feel him all the way up in your stomach, “That’s my good little pet. Look at this, your pussy is devouring me. I’m going to wreck you, gonna mold your pussy around my dick so that you know that no one else will ever be able to make you feel good. Your perfect little pussy was made for me, and me alone. You were made for me. Your pussy, your ass, your mouth, these perfect tits,” He gave your breasts a harsh squeeze, running his thumbs over your nipples as you let out another scream, “They’re gonna be full of milk before you know it, filled up for our baby. Do you want to have my baby, pet? Do you want me to breed you? Fill you up? Ruin you for anyone else with my cock?” 

“Yes!” You sobbed, although you were barely conscious of what you were saying, barely even conscious of what he was saying, another orgasm fast approaching, “Michael, please! Fill me up! I need you!”

“Then cum for me,” Growling, he brought his nose down to touch yours, “Squeeze my cock with that tight pussy of yours, finish for me, and accept my seed knowing that you belong to me now, understood?” 

���Yes, yes, yes! Michael, I’m yours, I belong to you, yes!” Your screams were echoing around the room now, but you couldn’t hold back, not when he felt so good, and this time rather than a boiling in your stomach your orgasm felt like an awakening, like you were being reborn. 

You came harder than you knew was possible and Michael quickly followed suit, pumping you full of his thick, hot ropes of cum, more than he had ever cum before, filling you all the way up. 

Whimpering, you sat up, and rather than letting you move away Michael pulled you to his lap and dragged himself to the wall to lean against once again, hushing your mewls with a kiss, “Good girl. That’s my good little pet. I’m gonna stay inside you, okay? Gotta make sure you don’t lose a single drop.”

Nodding, you felt your eyelids start to flutter, your head dropping to his chest, “Yes, Michael. I’m...I’m so tired.”

“I know you are, little one, I know you are. Get some rest now. No one will interrupt us. Rest, my sweet, and have dreams of the future we will build together,” He pressed a kiss to your forehead, pulling you impossibly closer to his chest, and letting out a happy hum as he felt you already drifting off, and before he did the same he whispered in your ear, “I’m proud of you.”

[bisexualcrowley]

Undercover

Pairing: Harry Hart x Fem! reader

Summary: While doing surveillance at a gala, Y/n and Harry's identities are threatened to be uncovered and they take to a rather intimate method of hiding their faces

Content/warnings: smutty themes? nsfw, fluffy stuff, cursing, suggestive themes, semi-public foreplay/teasing, making out, Merlin’s still alive bc i want him to be

Word count: 3,729

“A Gala. In the middle of winter, this means I might have to fight in heels, is this really necessary Merlin?” Y/n sighed, glancing out at the light drifting of snow that had begun to flutter down from the sky. Its not that she had anything against winter, the woman mused to herself, just that it makes this sort of work so much more difficult. 

The year had been tough enough already, having lost Harry to Valentine, getting Harry back, the whole issue with the Golden Circle, and the constant stress was getting to Y/n, the smallest thing now able to piss her off, and unfortunately for her, this latest mission seemed to be more than a small thing. “C’mon Y/n, i know we all could use some rest but this is important, the target is threatening to release catastrophic amounts of classified government information. I’m not asking you to be on the front line here, I just need you and Galahad on the sidelines, more as surveillance and backup than anything else.”

Y/n had been less than impressed with Merlin’s words, wanting to stay as far away as possible from field work until she had gotten a decent amount of sleep, but her ears perked up at the mention of her best friend and previous partner at Kingsman.

“You’re letting Harry in the field again?”

She asked, surprised at the man’s words. “I thought you said he wasn’t ready yet, after the problems he had while working alongside the American agents.

“Not fully, as i said, the two of you will just be keeping tabs on him from the crowd, not making contact unless absolutely necessary.” Merlin must have picked up on Y/n’s eagerness to work alongside Harry again and allowed himself a slight smile as he spoke, sliding the paperwork across the table to the younger agent. “This place is fancy, i mean really fancy, you’re gonna want to look your very best. Go over his papers today and be here dressed and ready at 20:30 tomorrow. And I mean it, y/n, be dressed to kill, in more than just the metaphoric sense”

Most of her annoyance having melted away at the mention of Harry, Y/n agreed, taking the papers and shaking Merlin’s hand before turning on her heel and jogging down the hall of the Kingsman offices, hoping to find her friend. Luckily Y/n didn’t need to search far, finding him in the actual tailor section of the building being fit for a tuxedo.

Y/n caught Harry’s eye in the mirror in front of him and she shot him a grin, leaning casually against the door frame. “Lookin’ good, Galahad. Excited to be headin’ back into it?” She asked, affection shining in her smile at the sight of Harry Hart suiting up for battle once again. 

It was no secret among many of the Kingsman agents that Y/n had fallen hard for the man, her feelings becoming clear to them when Harry was shot as she had broken down in tears at the news despite being one of Kingsman’s toughest agents, however she did manage to keep the secret from Harry himself, terrified of losing the relationship they already had by revealing her feelings only to find that they weren’t reciprocated. 

Eggsy and Merlin, of course, had required a fair amount of bribery to be convinced to keep their mouths shut, finding the whole situation more than amusing and wanting nothing more than to spill the beans to Harry, whom they were fully convinced shared y/n’s feelings. Y/n didn’t crack though, and eventually the men had settled on the childish teasing of Y/n and placing bets on who would make the first move. Eggsy had put 50 pounds on Y/n cracking first, but Merlin put his money on Harry, having said something about Eggsy underestimating the woman.

At the moment, despite her refusal to share her feelings with Harry, Y/n feared that Eggsy was going to be the one to win the wager as she felt her heart beat faster at the happy smile Harry had offered her in return.  “Looking forward to be working alongside you again, Y/n, it’s been lonely without my partner”

Y/n felt her face heat up at the compliment, but determined not to let her resolve fail she once again held back the words she wanted so badly to tell her friend, instead choosing to push herself off the doorframe and saunter over to Harry’s position in the center of the room.  “So... A gala. Haven’t done one of these together in ages, have we.”  Y/n’s hand came to rest on Harry’s shoulder, still not having broken their eye contact through the mirror. “It has been a while, although luckily, I never forgot how to dance”

Y/n’s confident exterior faltered at his words, tilting her head to the side and eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “We have to dance?” She asked, voice coming out far quieter than she had hoped. Harry let out a very ungentlemanly laugh at her shock, turning his gaze from the mirror to meet his friend’s eyes properly. “I’d assume Merlin didn’t tell you for this very reason, y/n” He chuckled. “We’d stick out too much, standing in the middle of a ballroom. To draw the least amount of attention to our position, we’re gonna have to dance”

Y/n froze for a moment, weighing her options. On one hand, she thought, I’m dancing with Harry. On the other hand, i’m dancing. In public. What a terrifying thought, i should just tell Merlin i won’t do it. But if i don’t do it, i don’t dance with Harry. 

She squinted slightly, fighting herself for which option was better, but in the end decided that the upside of pretending to be Harry’s date outweighed the negatives in the situation, and after another moment of hesitation, Y/n nodded, nervously drumming her fingers on the man’s shoulder.

“Alright then. If we’re gonna dance, we’re gonna do it right. I’m gonna go find a dress, i guess. See you tomorrow, Galahad” Y/n breathed, a hint of humor making it’s way into her words as she went on, which to her luck Harry picked up on, and replied with an exaggerated salute, earning him a giggle and smile from Y/n before she slung on a coat and took off again.

Lucky for her the London streets were nearly empty, most seeking cover from the bitter cold within the comfort of their homes, and the trip to her own home was quick for Y/n. Almost immediately upon arriving, she threw open the doors of her closet, flicking through hanger after hanger of clothes that Merlin would be less than happy about her wearing to such a prestigious event. It appeared that luck was still on her side, however, as Y/n paused, pulling out a dress previously hidden behind a thick winter coat.  It was beautiful, a slim gown of deep green velvet with a loose, plunging neckline and thin black straps with a shimmering gold woven throughout, and y/n smiled, knowing it would be perfect for the following night.

The next day passed quickly, Y/n having to study the target’s file, shower, do her hair and makeup, fit a variety of concealed weaponry on her person, and what felt to her like a million other things, and it felt like no time at all before she found herself outside the Kingsman Tailor shop, glittering heels clicking along the icy sidewalk leading up to the building. Y/n reached for the door handle, shivering slightly in the cold but was met with the door swinging open in her face, Merlin staring down at her with Eggsy, Tequila and Harry behind him. 

“Y/n, you’re late, c’mon, there’s a car waiting in the back, c’mon lets go” Merlin ushered her along, the group rounding the building to find a black towncar waiting in the alley. It took a bit of maneuvering to fit everyone into the vehicle, coats bunching up in the small space, but eventually the group situated themselves in a somewhat comfortable fashion, and they were off.

The drive was longer than Y/n had expected, but no time was spent relaxing, having found herself rather distracted by her body being pressed against a very well dressed Harry, the cramped space forcing her leg to shift up onto Harry’s so that she was sitting partially on his lap, a position that had the both of them blushing furiously and Tequila chuckling from Harry’s left. 

Hoping to distract from the uncomfortable and unfortunately mildly arousing way she was seated, Y/n leaned forward to peer past Harry and raised an eyebrow at the American agent, who in return mimicked her expression, which brought a mix of annoyance and amusement to the still blushing woman.  “Mind if i ask why Harry was forced into the middle seat? Last time i checked, i’d fit a fair bit better” Y/n asked, Harry humming in agreement with her statement.

“Why, you wanna sit on my lap instead?” Tequila smirked, earning a snort of laughter from Eggsy and Merlin in the front seat and a glare from Y/n, where Harry shifted uncomfortably and blushed harder.

Y/n’s snapped back, but her retort was cut short at the feeling of the car slowing to a stop and Merlin leaning over the drivers seat to run over the night’s details one last time. 

The plan went smoothly from then, Eggsy and Tequila positioning themselves near the main doorways and Merlin settling himself behind a computer, leaving Harry and Y/n to shed their coats and make their way further into the ballroom. A string quartet was set in the middle of the north wall, playing what y/n recognized immediately to be a slower rendition of the seal lullaby, and she fought the urge to twirl around a couple times, instead smoothing out her dress and holding out a hand to Harry.

“Well Mr. Hart, may i have this dance?” Y/n spoke calmly, careful to avoid appearing overly enthusiastic so as not to draw unnecessary attention to the pair, but the warmth shining in her eyes was undisguisable to Harry, who took her arm with a smile and led her to their position in the ballroom.

The image of the two Kingsman agents settling into a graceful mix of a waltz and a simple slow dance was reflected off the marble floors, creating what would have been a beautiful photo had there been a photographer near them and y/n relished in the moment, hand clasped with Harry’s, his hand pulling her waist to his as they swayed to the music.

Harry caught Y/n’s eye as he caught her after a spin, a grin breaking through his character that made her heart flutter. The song slowed to it’s end and the couple for the night paused, the taller figure dipping y/n and freezing, their faces inches apart. Y/n felt her breath hitch in her chest, heart pounding at the intimate position they had paused in.

Her eyes met Harry’s again, the latter panting slightly, his pupil dilated and face flushed red, and dear god it turned Y/n on. Biting her tongue to hold back what would have been a rather humiliating moan, she rested her weight into Harry’s arms, allowing herself a second to catch her breath. As the next song began, Harry shook himself out of whatever state he was in and pulled y/n back up against him, resuming the dance like nothing had happened. Y/n, still flustered, tried to distract herself by shooting a glance towards their target, who had moved from lingering by the side entrance to scanning the crowd from a nearby refreshment table.  As the song reached a peak Harry spun y/n around again, but this time around her heel caught on the seam of her dress and she stumbled, accidentally turning away from her partner. Quickly righting herself, Y/n returned to her previous stance, but not before making brief yet intense eye contact with the man they were watching.  “Shit... Merlin do you have eyes on the target? I might have just fucked us over” Y/n’s voice came out in a hoarse whisper, eyes blown wide with horror at the prospect of ruining Harry’s first real taste of action since the Golden Circle incident.

“Hang on, hang on, don’t abort mission yet” Merlin muttered through her earpiece, y/n hearing the clacking of keys as the older agent fussed with the security cameras

“Fuckin hell, Galahad, Y/n, he’s coming your way. Hold your position, we don’t blow your cover unless we’re 100% sure he knows who you are. Keep dancing, but don’t let him see your face” 

Merlin’s voice cut across the earpiece again, and by the way y/n felt Harry's shoulders tense she knew he heard the message too.

“Shit, what do we do?” she hissed back, watching her partner risk a glance to the left and finding the target moving smoothly through the crowd, eyes set on the couple.

“Keep dancing, stay inconspicuous for as long as possible, if we’re lucky he’ll just pass on by. Now i’ll say it again, don’t let him see your bloody faces.” Merlin’s voice was low, and Y/n couldn’t stop the nervous feeling they caused from setting in as she watched the man grow nearer out of the corner of her eye.

“Merlin i don’t know what you expect us to do here if it’s so imperative we don’t move from this spot, we can’t just-”

Y/n tuned out Harry’s urgent whispers as a solution came to mind, eyes widening at the ridiculousness her own mind had come up with, but not seeing a better solution she shushed him, placing a finger over his lips.

Harry looked confused but went along with it, cocking an eyebrow in silent questioning and giving her shoulder a soft squeeze as the man drew closer, nearly close enough to get a good look at the pair, and y/n knew she had to make her move.  With a quick whisper of “forgive me for this Harry”, Y/n brought her hands up to cup her friend’s face and pulled him into a kiss. Harry froze momentarily, his jaw tensing in shock before he followed her lead and returned the kiss, their lips moving against each others perfectly in sync and y/n couldn’t keep herself from sighing into the kiss, unconsciously pressing her body closer to his. 

Harry deepened the kiss, his hands moving to thread through her hair and a vague thought reminded Y/n he was just helping to conceal her face, but it was shoved quickly to the back of her mind with a particularly passionate movement from Harry which she met enthusiastically. Her hands inched upwards to tug at his perfectly styled hair, which earned Y/n a low moan against her lips, and she pressed closer again, unconsciously slipping her leg between Harry’s. She felt his cock twitch against her thigh and all thoughts of what they were there to do flew out the window, one hand clasping at the collar of his tuxedo’s jacket and the other cupping his cheek, pulling his face down to her own.

Feeling bold, Y/n made a move to nip at Harry’s lower lip but before she had the chance, they were interrupted by a more than amused Eggsy clearing his throat beside her.  The pair flinched in surprise and pulled quickly out of the heated embrace, leaving Y/n wiping speared lipstick from her face and fixing disheveled hair, Harry somewhat discretely adjusting his clothing to hide the now quite sizable bulge in his trousers with a deep blush across his cheeks and Eggsy watching from the side, eyes tearing up from the effort of holding in his laughter.

“Merlin says good thinkin’, Y/n. The two’ve you were a bit busy to notice but Tequila got the guy, he went down nice n’ quiet, we’re supposed to get to the car as soon as possible” Eggsy had a shit eating grin plastered across his face as he spoke, which only got wider when Y/n gave Harry an awkward smile, which he returned briefly before shoving his hands in his pockets and staring down at his shoes.

Snickering, Eggsy escorted the pair through the crowded room and through a series of side doors, which after a seemingly unnecessary number of hallways led to a back exit where the towncar that had brought them to the gala was waiting. Dreading what was sure to be an uncomfortable conversation with Harry, y/n winced at the thought of how inappropriate her actions towards her friend were, and she moved to open the passenger side door but was stopped by Eggsy once again, who flung open the door and threw himself in next to Merlin, who quite to her displeasure shared Eggsy’s smirk. 

Y/n’s eyes locked with his, silently pleading to switch seats but her weak attempt proved to be in vain as Eggsy winked and pointed over his shoulder to the back of the car, where Harry was already seated.  Y/n glared at Merlin but didn’t argue, and took a deep breath before sliding into the car, which to her luck was no longer so cramped due to the third agent having stayed behind with the target. The space was still smaller than she would have wished, but the cover of darkness provided a touch of comfort that y/n was endlessly grateful for. 

Shadows crossed across her legs as the car rolled into gear, Merlin driving out of the alley and beginning the long journey back to the Kingsman headquarters. Y/n sighed, leaning her head against the window and closing her eyes, hoping the cold glass against her skin would help to drown out her racing thoughts.

Much to her dismay, however, they had been traveling for less than ten minutes when Eggsy turned around, leaning over his chair with the same wicked smile stretched across his face as he had worn before.

“So, you two had some fun t’night, didntcha?” Merlin let out a snort of laughter from beside him, Eggsy nodding his head suggestively between the pair in the backseat. Too tired to come up with a snarky reply, y/n simply rolled her eyes at Eggsy, and went back to working up the nerve to say something to the uncharacteristically silent figure seated beside her.

The realization that Harry was rarely this quiet around y/n outweighed her fear of confrontation, concern for her friend pulling her focus from Eggsy to the older man, and she turned to face him.  Harry was sitting stiffly, hands clasped in his lap and head straight forward, but he must have been watching y/n out of the corner of his eye, as he looked to the side to meet her eyes when she turned from her position by the window to look up at him. 

In that moment, the car was silent aside from the low rumble of the engine, the tension between the two growing from tolerable to an absolute peak, hanging thickly in the air between their bodies.  It was thick enough, apparently for Eggsy to pick up on it, and with a chuckle about “giving you two some privacy”, he pressed a button beside his seat that caused a black divider to come up behind him, separating the front from the back of the car and leaving Y/n and Harry in silence.

Both Harry and Y/n stayed frozen in place, faces turned to each other and her eyes locked on his. Hesitantly, y/n placed a hand on Harry’s knee, a motion that years of friendship had taught him meant she had a lot to say, but didn’t yet know how to say it, and Harry nodded, the silent exchange sharing more than words would be able to.

“...I... I’m sorry, Harry, i shouldn’t have...” Y/n’s voice was low, barely above a whisper as she spoke, trailing off as the words caught in her throat. 

"No, y/n, it was my mistake, i just...” Harry's voice faltered as well, fingers coming up to fuss nervously with the strap of his eyepatch, a habit y/n had noticed Harry picked up when he felt flustered.

Neither of them knew what had happened; one moment they were sitting in silence, y/n’s hand on his knee and tension high, and the next moment y/n found herself being pulled into Harry’s lap, her hands once again tugging at his hair as they met again in a heated kiss.  Her dress had hiked up to her hips at this point, allowing Y/n to straddle her lover properly, and this time she didn’t hesitate to grind down against him, Harry’s hands coming to grip her smooth hips as she rubbed her barely covered sex along the bulge in his trousers, both letting out groans of pleasure at the friction.

Harry’s fingers trailed down y/n’s body as they made out like horny teenagers in the backseat, moving from her hair down to cup her covered breast, and down further to trace along the slick fabric of her panties. Y/n whimpered at the touch and moved to return the favor, her own hand coming to palm at his cock through his pants, at which Harry gasped and yanked her down onto his lap once again, hips thrusting up to grind against y/n’s cunt.

She moaned against his mouth once again, pulling away for just long enough to strip off Harry’s coat and unbutton his shirt before returning to her position on his lap. The two were so caught up in the moment that they didn’t notice the car pulling up to the curb and stopping, however they did take notice to the door flying open and the flash of a camera, followed by Eggsy’s delighted voice and a deep laugh from Merlin.  Embarrassed, y/n quickly tugged her dress back into place and slid out of the car, holding out a hand for Harry to take as he climbed out, looking as red faced as y/n felt.

“Go on, buggers, we took you to Galahad’s place. I’ll find out who won the bet tomorrow, go have some fuckin’ fun.” Eggsy laughed at their dumbfounded expressions at his words, but chose not to respond, instead returning to his seat beside Merlin who drove off a few seconds later, leaving two very sexually frustrated agents on the sidewalk. 

“Well then... Wanna take this inside?”

[headcans-oneshots-and-stuff]

Do Angels giggle?

Warning: Mentioned death of multiple people, a teeny tiny bit of angst, swearing, but otherwise you should be fine Word count: 4k (sis snapped again)(I should really stop doing this tbh) Summary: A rumor of an angel kidnapping criminals and leads them to a path of justice and Jason is on the suspects track. He hasn’t expected to be caught and he surely hasn’t expected what met him there...

This was requested by @middevil465​: 'Babe did you fall from heaven bc you seem to be a chaotic ever shifting sphere of eyes & wings making a sound not of this earth and I’m kind of hoping God sent you because this is terrifying' with jason x reader

Jason really didn't plan on this to happen. He didn't plan on getting caught while spying on the current suspect in a case of criminals disappearing only to re-appear with no memory of what happened and babbling of being lead to a better life by an angel. And he certainly didn't plan to end up in a warehouse that was decorated with a clearly religious altar and other things that heavily reminded him of the church. The only thing that wasn't church-y was the fact that he was tied to a - honestly not uncomfortable - chair in front of the altar. The worst fact was that he, too, couldn't remember how he ended up here. He had some flashes of memories, about how Bruce assigned him to the case, about how he found a man that all the criminals who found themselves 'victim' had met sometime before their disappearance and how he'd found and followed him before he blacked out.

And now he was here. He wasn't really afraid as much as he was concerned and curious about what was going to happen next. Bruce could easily track him as soon as he noticed he wasn't answering so there was also not much reason to try to escape before he knew what was going on here or if he was in any serious danger. Jason wasn't sure what to expect. Tortue, drugging, brainwashing? He knew the man must have some kind of secret weapon that made him able to re-write these criminals to his liking, but he wasn't quite sure why. Everyone in the cave had different theories. Bruce and Dick thought that he maybe got information about their 'businesses', deleted the memory and sold the info, Damian and (surprisingly enough) Tim thought that the criminals had been involved in something bigger, all of them involved somehow, and the person (or people) who hunted them down and changed their memories and life choices, were on a hunt for information. Steph and Cass had agreed that it was a cult or a conspiracy and Barbara had said that she wouldn't make any theories just yet, or rather not reveal hers. Jason had a more sinister thought though. He knew about the criminal world better than most others in his family, once having been a big part of it too, and he thought that whoever was able to do this, was slowly building an empire, first taking out smaller criminals, snitches and errand boys, maybe as to test their methods, before going for the big fish and re-writing them to take over their territory. It was honestly a good plan, but the fam wasn't really happy about it. Having an enemy that could delete and rewrite memories and demeanours could be a real threat. That was why Jason needed to find out how they did it. But he didn't see anything in the warehouse room that would implicate what they used for their plan, only all that church stuff, and Jason considered that it was probably something to harden the illusion that it was an angel who showed them the 'light'. 

"I've seen thou have been awakened, man in the blooded hood," a male voice echoed through the large space and bounced off the walls. The man he had followed stepped in front of him in a robe that reminded him of a monk. "It's crimson, bitch," Jason snarkily responded and couldn't help the smirk on his face, but it didn't seem to even slightly faze him. "Many have found the devil in their words in this city, but we, the church of hope and new ways, have made it our mission to bring thou, wrongdoers, to a path of justice and good, to a path of the angel." So Cass and Stephanie were right after all? A cult, really? "So that's all very noble and all, at least in theory, but ya know, I'm kinda on your side. With hunting and jailing criminals and all that jazz." "Thou words are full of sin that thou not even recognize, but don't fret, we will free you of them, free you of the devil within and bring you on a path of belief and light, we will bring thou to face with the angel that hath shown us the way too." Now that was next-level crazy, Jason thought and rolled his eyes under his still worn helmet. "Well, knock yourself out," he sighed and leaned back in the chair. Seemingly listening to Jason, the man disappeared through a door and suddenly all the lights in the room went out, leaving Jason in complete darkness, unable to turn on the night vision in his helmet. He heard another door on the other side opening and light steps echoed through the room, but whoever came in didn't make any other sounds but that. Then he was blinded by the brightest light he had most likely ever seen and what his eyes saw when the light simmered down a bit and he got used to the brightness made him freeze to the core. The words that left his mouth next were the result of habit more than thought, but he said them nonetheless: "Babe did you fall from heaven because you seem to be a chaotic ever-shifting sphere of eyes and wings making a sound not of this earth and I'm kind of hoping God sent you because this is terrifying." He wasn't wrong though. In front of him was, in fact, actually an ever-shifting sphere of eyes and wings that was making sounds that were clearly not human, neither anything that he had ever heard off-world and even though Jason was by no means religious, he had heard enough about how the angels in the bible were described to identify this thing in front of him as an angel. Suddenly the ever so brave, fearless and cocky Jason Todd stared at that being in front of him and his hidden face was drawn by fear and terror. He could deal with torture and pain, he could deal with technology and drugs, but he couldn't deal with whatever would be happening next. What would be happening next? Well, whatever it was that he expected, it sure as hell wasn't what happened. The sphere that he feared more than he had feared anything in the last years started to giggle. GIGGLE! Do Angel's even giggle? How would I ever know if angels giggle? The glow died down and the shifting intensified, the eyes were closing and drawing together, the wings merging too until there was only one pair left and the sphere turned into a different form, something longer and more humanly shaped, until it did a final change and turned into a girl. And what a girl she was. Jason's breath was stolen by her and the atmosphere surrounding her. She looked stunning in every sense of the word, from the Y/S/C skin that was basically glowing with angelic shine, her hair that was somehow looking like a halo even though it was nothing like one and her face that seemed to be sculptured by whoever created this hellhole called life themselves. And don't let him get started on the pair off wings that she was still sporting on her back. It was quite honestly gigantic. So big that its lowest part was reaching the floor and the highest part was still a few inches higher than her head. He could imagine that they would fill out the entire room if she was to stretch them out and the thought alone made him somewhat fuzzy in his head. He wished he could describe their colour, but he was sure that it was none of the ones he had ever seen on any planet, ever, he wasn't even sure if his eyes should be humanly able to comprehend the colour and yet there he sat looking at them. He was so impressed by these celestial limbs that he didn't even notice the fact that the girl was, in fact, completely naked. But even if he'd notice it, he wouldn't have seen her body as something sexual. The way she was moving like it was completely natural would more likely make him feel ridiculous for ever thinking of a naked body as something as intimate. And then her voice. Her voice was even more divine than anything else, making his whole body tense up and relax simultaneously. "You are full of darkness, but your darkness is unlike anything else they have shown me," she stated matter-of-factly and she came close to him, rounding him a few times with curiosity in her eyes, "And not just your insides are different than the ones they showed me, your head seems to have a sort of protective shell, how magnificent." Is she talking about my helmet? Does she think it is a part of me? "Uhm, Miss Angel, that isn't a part of my body, it's removable," he said, surprised that he was even  able to talk with his heart basically having stopped beating. Her eyes widened in child-like wonder and she kneeled down in front of him, her wings spreading out slightly beside her to accommodate the change in height. "Would it be okay if I were to take it off?" she asked in innocence that Jason has quite honestly never seen before. "Uhm, sure," Jason answered, completely having forgotten the whole reason that he was here in the first place.   Her delicate hands slowly found their way to were his helmet laid over his ears and she looked into the general direction of were his eyes were, her Y/E/C orbs seemingly shifting colour every time she moved even an inch. "I'll try to be careful," she hummed and started trying to get it off, changing her tactic ever so often when she noticed that it wasn't working, but instead of telling her what to do, Jason just looked at the angel and couldn't find any words. Finally, after about two minutes, she managed to pull it off and carefully laid it down beside the chair, before finally leading her gaze to his now, except for the domino mask, uncovered face. She didn't say anything, just bringing her hands up to his face and tracing it, including every scar, no matter how little, and every edge. Even though he had been in awe before, now he could almost comprehend why the criminals changed their ways, hell, at that moment he'd burn the city down without hesitation if she'd asked for it. Finally, her fingers wandered over the edges of his mask and when he gave her a small nod of consent, she somehow managed to peel it off and free his eyes for her to see. He didn't mind that she now knew what he looked like, that she could now identify him, but to be honest, he didn't think much about it, too caught up in that moment and that moment only. Their eyes met in a moment of complete silence whit the only sound present in Jason's head was the pounding of his heart and the rushing of his blood. "You are really unlike the others aren't you?" her voice broke that moment, but he somehow knew that he wasn't expected to answer. For a few heartbeats, the two off them stayed in place, before the angel ruffled her feathers, the sound echoing through the warehouse, like dozens of birds flying away. She raised back to her full size, her wings folding back to where they had originally been. "Tell me, why do my saviours want me to bring you to the light? I can see that it is already in you, it may be clouded and darkened, but it is there," she asked him and her hand was cupping his cheek in an act that seemed unnoticed by herself as if she was doing it unconsciously. Jason wasn't quite sure how to respond to that question, but he noticed something else in what she said, something that formed confusion in him. "Your saviours? Shouldn't it be the other way around?" "How do you mean that?" the angel asked with honest naive confusion written over her face as she cocked her head to the side and folded her hand in front of her bare stomach. "Well, uh, I'm no expert by any means, but you're an angel right?" She nodded but kept quiet as if that question didn't give her a clue as to what he meant. "Uhm... Angels are creatures sent by God and...uhm...they are over humans, right? So how is that guy and whoever he works with your saviour? Is he Jesus or something?" What she answered was something he didn't even remotely expect. "Who?" "Jesus? Your Boss's son? God sent messiah to free all humans? Allegedly forgave us for our sins and got killed for that?" Jason rambled and tried to count down everything he still remembered. The angle put her hand in front of her mouth in shock at his words. "That sounds horrible, is he okay?" she asked in a tone that made it pretty clear to Jason that she did, first of all, not know who Jesus was, and second, had no idea what killing actually meant. "Uhm, sure, he's great, somewhere up there with his dad, I guess," Jason just shrugged, not really caring about that topic anymore and more focusing on all the facts about her being an angel that didn't add up. "Can you tell me about yourself?" he just boldly asked her, but it didn't seem to phase her at all, in fact, she brightened up at the possibility to tell him about her. "Uhm, I can't tell you much, but I was saved by the church of hope and new ways when they found me after what they called a miracle, they took care of me and explained to me that I was sent to them to be their tool to re-shape the world," she explained with a somewhat proud undertone, but Jason's feeling got cemented. The feeling that she had actually no idea what was going on around her and what she was used to do, and the feeling that she may not really be the sort of angel he, and seemingly she, believed she was. "Re-shape the world?" he investigated further, a small voice muttering theories in the back of his head. "Mhm," she nodded and her right wing folded itself slightly in front of her as if she was nervous or shy, "They bring men who are filled with darkness and they have me look into them, look if they have light and make me watch their mind, then they have told me to bring them into the sun, I show them the way that they tell me is right, make them believe in the church." Her words were slightly wary and Jason could recognize the doubt in them. She wasn't doing this voluntarily... "Do you want to do that?" he asked to clarify things for himself, and maybe also her. Her eyes wandered to the door the mock-monk had disappeared in and Jason could have sworn he saw something like fear in them. "I- Uhm- Yes," she nodded, but couldn't look at the man in front of her, she had almost turned her whole body away from him. "I don't believe you." "Why?" her voice wasn't as childish and curious and innocent anymore, it was small and fragile. "I'm not sure, but I think they are lying to you, I think you aren't an angel. I mean, you're sure as hell no human, but you're not an angel, at least not one in the...uhm..traditional sense." This seemed to gain her attention in a way that had her turning around again and made her take a step towards him. "Do you really think so? Because... I have tried to tell them, but they said no to all my questions, they told me that I am the tool for the church, that that is my only task and that I would be lost without them, but I can see it in them too. The darkness, they tell me to turn into light, is in them too, but they don't let me change it, they tell me I must see something that isn't there... And not only that... I have memories, memories of the Miracle. I see flashes of other people, people that make my heartache, and flashes of a building, one that looked like this room here on the inside. "And then there are other flashes, flashes I have at nights when I'm resting, there are loud noises and heat is licking at my skin, at my back, at my whole body, and there are so many screams." She seemingly didn't find the connection between those memories, but Jason sure as hell did. It was mainly a theory at that point, but he believed that she had been at church with her family when it burned down, maybe there was magic involved or she had the meta-gen inside her, but while her family burned she must have turned into the angel she was now, losing most of her memory in the process. The people that must have found her and figured out of the great powers she had, had decided to use her for their own sinister plans and she was none the wiser, Jason couldn't know if she had always been that naive and innocent, but she was now and, even though he had only known her for a matter of maybe half an hour, she had grown on him if he was being honest. "Can you see into other people's heads? Can you read other people's memories too?" he asked, a small plan forming in his mind. She looked at him in thought, but she seemingly was somewhat intrigued. "I believe so, I have only done it one or two times." "Read my mind, read my memories," he almost commanded, but she was taken off for other reasons. "Why would you want me to do that? My saviours tell me that it isn't my place to do so..." "I know this is confusing and what you will see will shock you, but I hope you will be able to trust me after that, trust me to help you, get you out of here." The prospect of being away from her 'saviours' seemed to make her interested, but there was something else that she had to know beforehand. "Will you stay with me? Will you take me with you? I can't be alone, I don't know where to go, what to do, I can't- don't think that I can survive all alone," she looked away and he could see the fear and pain, of not knowing what the future would hold in her whole demeanour, and he wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms, but the restraints that were still binding him to the chair were keeping him from doing so. "If you don't want to be, you won't be alone, I will take you with me, we will go through this together, okay?" "Okay," she smiled slightly and came to him, her hands hovering over the rope around his chest and, in a for Jason surprising turn of event, her palms started glowing and the rope basically disintegrated leaving him free to stand up, having to physically restrain himself from holding her. "This won't be happening to me too?" he asked gesturing to what was still left off the rope. And she giggled again. God, he had almost forgotten how heavenly that giggle was. "No, I don't think it will," she said in a tone as if she was honestly questioning her statement, but before he could say anything about it her hands found themselves on the sides of his temple and the last thing that echoed through the room before the angel fell unconscious in his arms was her scream.

When the angel woke up she felt utterly exhausted. She had seen everything that had ever happened in Jason's life, including his death and every time he had killed, and she had felt it like she was it who experienced it. It had literally drained her, but Jason was correct, as she woke up again, she trusted him with her life and more. She knew him now. Possibly better than anyone else in the world. And not only that, when her eyes opened he was the first thing she saw. She was laying in his lap, something that was astounding enough considering the giant wings that were spread out beside her and partly over Jason, and somewhere along her time of being in his memories he had taken off his brown leather jacket and had put it on her and zipped it up, keeping the, in normal standards, intimate parts of her body hidden from sight. What the angel couldn't see were the bodies of the people who had, in Jason's opinion, used you for the past few months that were stacked in the backroom and, if he was lucky, not dead. "Sorry you had to see this, but I wanted for you to be able to completely trust me," Jason whispered, his hands caressing through her hands. "It's okay, I understand," she hummed back and they both knew that she meant more than just the statement about him wanting her to trust him. "Can we leave now?" "Of course," he smiled and helped her up, having been made aware earlier when she passed out that her wings added more to her body weight than he had anticipated, but that was to expect, they were robust and spread out almost twice as big as Jason in width. The angel, who Jason really needed to find a name for, had the wing on the side opposite of where Jason stood beside her, drawn in, but the one that was on his side was spread out behind him like a shield, curling around him slightly, but he just smiled and slightly shook his head at that. He honestly really didn't know what it was about the girl, his angel, or the whole situation itself, but a really small part of him wanted to believe that maybe there was something like a bigger picture, maybe not necessarily a god, but something that had brought them together, something that had wanted to make him know that the two of them knowing each other was meant to be.

[palmett-hoes]

Do you have any fan casts or strong takes/feelings on the foxes’ appearances? Fandom tends to use the same Pinterest models, which feels wrong to me.

i do in fact! i've actually been meaning to make a post about how i choose to write all of the foxes' ethnicities anyway

but yes i absolutely agree that the typical pinterest model types u generally see on edits is not how i see any of them. nor is reece king or froy gutierrez or lucky blue smith one of my FCs for anyone

for a lot of them i don't necessarily have a single specific FC so much as i have like,, a general impression of features that i will see on various different people, who all may look wildly different from each other or who may not even look how i see the character as a whole but do have a specific feature i associate with them. mostly it boils down to the Energy i get tbh and that's just a Feeling i cant even explain

fun fact im a tiny bit face blind so that might account for some of why i'm so all-over about this

may as well go chronologically. some of them i definitely have more thoughts on than others

1. Dan

ethnicity: Afro Native (Sioux)

features: medium dark skin. buzzcut, killer fade. she often styles it in waves. she's very butch, wears a lot of basketball and cargo shorts, tank tops and flannels and jerseys, hiking boots. skinny but muscular, with a very rectangular body shape. defined jaw. probably like 5'4 or 5'5

FC/Energy: sometimes i get some dan energy out of janelle monae but more butch. lotta dan energy out of samira wiley. lashana lynch

2. Kevin

ethnicity: a lot of things tbd, but he's pretty multi-ethnic. i like the idea of kayleigh being half- or a quarter-japanese in addition to irish because it gives her more of a reason to go to japan for her undergrad. wymack is from d.c. which is a majority black city for its actual residents, but i also like the idea of him being Pasifika/Hawaiian. HOWEVER - and this is pretty important to my read of kevin's character - he's white passing, and has been mostly treated as a white guy who tans his whole life, like occasionally asked if he's italian maybe. learning that his father was a Distinctly Not White Man was a big shock to him.

kristin kreuk, lindsay price, phoebe cates, and marie digby are all half-asian actresses i base kayleigh on

i suppose i base his story partially on broadway actress carol channing, who revealed publically that she was a quarter black when she was like 80 years old. though maybe wentworth miller, a biracial actor who knows his father is black but also doesn't know him, is more accurate to kevin's story. then keanu reeves is a white passing actor with asian ancestry

also none of these people look anything like how i picture kevin lol. kevin is just like,, a guy. handsome ig. but kind of in a CW character kind of way

actually

kevin looks exactly like young jason momoa

3. Andrew

ethnicity: kayin/karen from myanmar

features: fat and muscular, very wide and heavy. this blog is basically all andrew body type refs. medium-olive skin, has a bit of a greyish tinge that makes him look a bit eerie or unhealthy. deep set, droopy eyes; looks so tired. flat face with a low-bridged nose. crooked teeth, especially his canines. natural hair black-ish but he bleaches it light blond. has the beginnings of martial artist punching callouses in his knuckles

FC/Energy: holy shit the characters i feel have Andrew Energy are all over the place. pedro pascal. babe ruth (yes fr). oddjob (harold sakata) from goldfinger. the jinn (mousa kraish) from american gods. gaear grimsrud (peter stormare) from fargo. takeshi kovacs (joel kinnaman) from altered carbon. and i wanna be clear, it's these characters specifically, and generally NOT the actors outside of that specific role. except pedro ❤️

4. Matt

ethnicity: cuban

appearance: matt has more of an Energy than specific features to me rn. that energy is Warm. he has that Warm bro jock dude energy. kind of a marvel hero build, hunky and muscular. very rectangular face. has this haircut:

5. Aaron

i get to cut myself some slack and not go AS in depth about aaron because he and andrew are identical twins

ethnicity: kayin/karen from myanmar

appearance: similar build to andrew, less confident and casual posture and body language. less apathetically murderous and more emotive expressions. better teeth bc his mom took him to the dentist. yes also bleaches his hair

celebrities: probably a lot like the difference between the characters and the actors. andrew is the characters and aaron is how the actors actually look. idk ive never looked at someone and thought 'hey! looks like aaron!'

6. Seth

ethnicity: have been going with half-vietnamese. considering looking into various south asian possibilities like pakistani

appearance: string bean build. that's all i have to offer

7. Allison

ethnicity: allison's very up in the air for me. she and seth are the two foxes i feel fine with being white, but im committing to having no white foxes sooo. i would say i generally see her as either half-middle eastern or chinese

appearance: plus sized and hourglass shaped. heart shaped face. taller, like 5'8 or 5'9. she has a pretty fraught history with her appearance and her parents payed for/pressured her into getting a nose job to have a 'prettier' nose. she also bleaches her hair blonde. she gets it done at a salon tho the twinyards do it in their bathroom

FC/Energy: elle king and nadia aboulhosn are my main inspos for her, esp body type but nadia esp in Vibes

8. Nicky

ethnicity: multi-ethnic. his mother is southern mexican Indigenous, possibly oaxacan. his father is mixed white/kayin

appearance: definitely takes after his mother while his father is white passing. dark brown skin, warm undertones. slightly stocky build. tall ovular head and thin aquiline nose. he's kind of just,, the opposite of the twins ig, so like their facial features look very different, which is a big part of why people don't make the connection between him and the twins alongside the difference in their skin tones, heights, and builds. nicky's build and features are very vertically-oriented, with a tall head, narrow-set eyes, thin nose with a high bridge, etc. the twins are horizontally-orienged, with broad, flat faces, wide-set eyes, wide noses with a low bridge, etc.

FC/Energy: yalitza aparicio, not a guy but one of the few Mexican Indigenous stars in the film industry and i really like her features for nicky. she's oaxacan

9. Renee

ethnicity: Black. african american

appearance: plus sized, circular/apple body shape. round face. dark skin. microlocs to a bit past her chin, bleached white and dyed at the ends. she and allison go to the salon together. femme but plain style, a lot of blouses and long skirts, practical shoes. knuckle callouses. about 5'6

FC/Energy: dominique fishback. tracie thoms, esp in RENT. gabourey sidibe. nicole byer, but not in Energy. brandy, for some reason, probably bc i think she has very serene Energy and is a little bit otherworldly. like if brandy played arwen or galadriel from lotr it would make perfect sense to me, and that's the Renee Energy™️

10. Neil

ethnicity: mixed. Black/Jewish on both sides. his father is polish ashkenazi and afro-brazilian. his mother is Black British and algerian jewish

appearance: very... sharp. like sharp all over. does that make sense? sharp features, sharp face shape, sharp angles to his body. he's got what i vaguely think of as a 'basketball build' not meaning tall but meaning very rangy and angular and lean. all limbs. seth has a similar build. lighter brown skin. he has waardenburg syndrome which is actually where he gets he gets his eye color, and his eyes are very large and widely spaced as well. freckles freckles freckles. freckles everywhere. 4a hair but at least during canon it's not very healthy and thus the curls aren't well-defined. he grows it out long enough to tie back and starts taking better care of it in post-canon. wonky, slightly crooked teeth, with a gap between the fronts

FC/Energy: now neil i actually have a ton for. mostly models which im a lil ashamed of bc i do try to draw more from athletes. alton mason is a main body type ref. mugsy bogues is good to see what i mean about the basketball build without the height. here're the boys: cykeem white, luka sabbat, désiré mia, Leo Hoyte-Egan, dylan hasselbaink, this beautiful stock photo model i've never been able to track down

i think about him every. goddamn. day.

in terms of like,, real ppl and not models: corbin bleu, especially during Jump In. figure skater elladj balde. rayan "ray ray" lopez from mindless behavior. A$AP Rocky a lil bit, maybe i just like his hairstyle idk

two more models i think are important: carissa pinkston and ralph souffrant

[straymackerel]

idk if your requests are open but if they’re not then feel free to ignore this. 😅 id like to request an imagine with dazai having a long, deep conversation with his new co-worker who happens to be a former member of the port mafia but she left for obvious reasons and only fukuzawa knows for now but ofc dazai being dazai, he’s sharp af so he decided to talk to her bc one, he understands her and second he developed feelings for her shortly after she joined ada. thanks in advance! 🥰

➽─{done! they were actually closed, but this was such a fun request i made it 2k long (✿´ ꒳ ` )}─❥

You often wonder if it was something you said.

Ever since you joined the Armed Detective Agency, all of your new coworkers have been nothing short of friendly and accommodating. All of them––except for the bandaged mystery who can’t quite take his eyes off of you.

At first you thought it was just your imagination. When he answered your questions dismissively, you thought maybe he didn’t have a way with words. When he bailed on group trips to Café Uzumaki––but only when you were going too––you brushed it off as a coincidence. And when you first ‘caught’ him fixated on you, looking you square in the face from his own desk, you hoped he was actually looking at something above your head or next to you.

After all, in the Port Mafia, you always felt as if you were being watched, precisely because you were being watched. Your every move was silently documented, your behavior acutely observed within a larger culture of distrust and suspicion. You wondered if maybe you carried that instinctive unease with you to your new day job. (The only proper day job you’ve ever held.)

But there was no need for deft maneuvers to realize that this intimidating brunette was, indeed, staring you down in silence. He has no intention of hiding it; he’s openly tracking your movements, peering into your essence. And the most unnerving part of all: he’s smirking half of the time. If you didn’t know any better, you would confront him the first chance you got; but your situation is precarious, delicate. You have no business drawing attention to yourself, a former member of the Port Mafia. Sure, the President is already aware of your circumstances, but the Mafia has engrained the virtues of secrecy into you. You hope to keep your past on the down low.

Besides, there’s something off about this brown-haired detective. Something you realized at the beginning of your employment, way before he started staring into your soul. Something you hope you’re wrong about.

So you wait it out, anxiously. Drained by the presence of your colleagues, you find yourself in Café Uzumaki alone one slow-moving afternoon. The paperwork was piling up, the tension in the air almost tangible as Dazai declined yet another offer to do actual field-work with the others in favor of keeping tabs on you (unbeknownst to anyone else). You’d left the office at your earliest convenience, hoping to relax in the corner with your favorite beverage.

It is all you can do to keep from spewing the profane as he invites himself to your table, waltzing in without a care in the world. 

You’re trapped.

Ordering himself a double shot espresso, your coworker ignores your apparent apprehension as he gets comfy in his booth seat. Downing his drink while you’ve barely touched yours, he glances behind him to check out the waitstaff. No words are exchanged until the baristas are out of earshot.

“Well, you certainly seem to have a vested interest in me,” you say in the most nonchalant manner manageable––nervous because of his constant surveillance, but also because he’s quite handsome for a borderline stalker.

“You can drop the tight-lipped smile,” Dazai replies, eyes darkened.

You lower your voice, hackles raised. “How much do you know?”

“I suppose it’s all speculation, but my hunches are rarely wrong. You chose to work at a detective agency after all.” Though he’s avoided your question, the look on his face tells you everything you need to know. Eyes narrowed, the corners of his mouth upturned, he most definitely has your former occupation pegged.

“What gave it away?” is the only thing you can think to say.

“Are you sure you want to know?”

“Perhaps it will aid me in playing detective,” you quip. He chuckles dryly.

“Oh, where to start. That concealed weapon you carry––it’s not issued by the Agency. Though its outline is comparable to our standard Beretta 92FS Inox sidearm, there are some subtle differences, even when it’s tucked away and wrapped in cloth.” You raise your eyebrows, surprised that anyone would notice.

“The way you move soundlessly and seamlessly,” he continues, not bothering to pause. “It’s obviously second nature. You hardly make a sound if you can help it. And then there’s your understanding of the underworld, even though you try to hide it. You obviously know much more than you let on; your knowledge is too convenient. You claim to know just the perfect tidbit or two for a case, having overheard a street vendor or a barkeep, but the expression on your face is all too telling of a certain sense of pride. Such a seemingly mild-mannered sweetheart as yourself. Did you know that when you flinch at violence, you always react a hair slower than everyone else, as if you’re simply following suit? Also––”

“Okay, OK, I get it,” you say, defeated. “So that’s the reason why you’re leering at me every day? To add to this never-ending list of yours?”

“Well...” Dazai’s voice trails off. His features relax for the briefest moment, more alarming than reassuring to you. And then that nagging thought resurfaces. That is, the very first thing that came to mind when you were first introduced to him. Again: something you hope you’re wrong about.

“You’re quite suspicious yourself,” you interject. “Let alone your little stalker habit... you have the same name as him.” The corners of his eyes crease. 

“That’s an odd way of putting it,” he says with a hint of mirth in his voice, and not a smidgen of denial. Fuck.

Logic dictates that you should be scared shitless right now, sitting across from one of the most dangerous men in Mafia history. Logic dictates that you should’ve used more covert methods of uncovering his past. Straightening up, you tell yourself not to think about it.

“Well, I was under the impression that Dazai Osamu was only a legend and nothing more. I mean, a teenage orphan prodigy who threw their life as a Mafia exec away, only to disappear forever? Sounds like bullshit,” you state with as much cool-headedness as you can muster.

“I take that personally!” he gasps, twisting his arms every which way in mock offense, as if to shield himself from your harsh commentary. 

“You didn’t consider changing your name?”

“Not even once.” He winks, to which your heart may or may not skip a beat. Are you scared, or oddly enamored?

You push your cup along your side of the table. “How come you turned tail too? You had the status to do literally anything you wanted.” He brushes it off.

“What is this, my interview? The last time I checked, you were the one on trial,” he says, waving his hand like he’s batting your assertion out of the air.

“I’m on trial?” you ask, the cup coming to a stop. “Do the others have suspicions as well?”

“Oh no, nothing in particular to go on. Though Ranpo most definitely has you figured out,” he says, to which you startle. “...but he couldn’t care less, so don’t worry.” You unintentionally sigh relief as he continues: “My colleagues have this peculiar way of testing their new recruits. We call it an ‘entrance exam.’ And before you ask, I’m not responsible for administering yours, but I might be able to push you in the right direction.”

“Any hints?” 

He shakes his head, “Not really. No general tips or tricks. I need some more information,” he says, leaning in a bit. “So tell me about yourself. Why leave the Mafia for the ADA?”

You press your lips together, realizing he’s asking you the very same question he himself dodged moments ago. “I needed a change of atmosphere. And scenery. I wasn’t quite taken up with the constant death threats and daily bloodshed.”

“Oh, death threats? And bloodshed? I don’t suppose you were on the receiving end?” Dazai asks, one eyebrow cocked.

You laugh a restrained laugh, nodding. “I wasn’t. But those kinds of tactics... they aren’t in my nature. Everything about that job was suffocating, and I just couldn’t do it anymore.” Dazai looks at you thoughtfully.

“It’s interesting, though. You carry your past line of work in all of your mannerisms. Any chance you were born into it?”

You nod again, “Not my choice.”

“What a coincidence.” He flashes a toothy smile, silence thickening the air. You scramble to break it, eager to talk about something else.

“...So? Any advice for my test?”

“I’d be a little more forthcoming if only you’d tell me the full truth,” Dazai responds, and your face falls.

“What do you mean?” Your strained voice comes out meeker than you’d like, and it’s Dazai’s turn to sigh. He leans back into his booth seat, as if a little distance might solve your unease.

“I lost someone. The best friend I’ve ever had. He told me I wouldn’t find what I was looking for in the Mafia, so here I am. And I’m pretty sure you have someone like that too.” How does he know? Why is he telling you this? Your hands––they’re clammy. You turn your gaze to your lap, realizing that he’d dismantle anything but the truth. There are no options but one.

“It was... a family member.” More silence. Is your nose getting red? You hope your nose isn’t getting red.

“The Mafia threatened them?” he prods.

“They were collateral,” you say slowly. You hadn’t expected to talk about them today. You hadn’t expected any of this from a coworker who kept you at several arms’ lengths for days. Another coworker might respond “that’s horrible,” or “I’m sorry for your loss,” but not Dazai.

“Dazai, do you ever wonder if it’s our fault they got hurt?”

“No,” he replies immediately. Then he hesitates. “I mean, yes, and for a very long time, but not anymore. Evil will do evil; if not to our loved ones, then to someone else.” 

He’s right. Of course he’s right.

“But does it make it any easier?” You peer at him, hopeful, and he dismisses your expectations with a quick shake of the head. “Right.” Pause. 

“But you’ve come to the right place. Unlike the Mafia, this is an environment where you can heal. Sometimes the wounds reopen,” he says, “but I promise you that your feelings will go towards something productive.” You swallow, blinking back would-be teardrops. The salty marinade seeps back into you.

Then, under your breath: “Okay.” “Thank you.” 

“Of course. I could talk about this all day.” The tightness in your throat dissipates, the water in your eyes no longer threatening to spill.

“So, the entrance exam? I’ve told you everything now,” you pry. He thrums his fingers, amused.

“Oh, that won’t be necessary. I figured pretty early on that you would be okay. You’re gonna pass just fine without my help––I only wanted to get to know my new coworker better.” His fingers stop as he gauges your response.

“Wha–?” This guy! He played you, straight to the verge of tears..! Shoulder tense, you jump to your feet.

“Sorry to deceive you. I’ll see you upstairs, then.” Jeez, the bandaged bastard’s already heading out!

“Wait!” Cheeks flushed, you’re unsure why you’re calling out to him, but it makes him stops in his tracks.

“...Yes?” 

“...You’re not gonna tell anyone, right?”

“I’ll think about it.” Dazai’s coy voice is all but reassuring.

“No, seriously,” you plead, eyes wide. “I really need this. God forbid someone else prompts a retelling of my life story.” He turns to face you.

“Then let’s make a deal.”

“What kind of deal?” 

He steps towards you, leaning in to whisper in your ear: “Meet me in front of this building tomorrow at 10 PM. There’s a restaurant I want to take you.” You feel your mouth open, then close by itself. 

This is it. This is why he can’t look away from you. If he was only observing you, he could, would do it without being so obvious. You’re sure of it now. You replay each once-menacing occurrence of eye contact from the past few days in your head, and you notice something new. Hunger? Want? Even greed? You can see it in his eyes right now. Those eyes, they threaten to dance around, maybe even travel a bit... lower. 

(You jest yourself. ‘Once-menacing?’ He’s still menace, still a danger.) He turns away, heading for the door again, not waiting for a response:

“Don’t be late.”

A chill runs up your spine. It’s a mix of fear, and bitterness, and panic, but most of all... 

A growing anticipation.