#like i would distance from me too but they kept insisting that’s wasn’t what was happening

[passengerprincessblog]

“Close Distance” ~ Lewis Hamilton short

Fluff ⭐️

Summary: In this short, Lewis Hamilton returns home after a long absence to his girlfriend, Y/N, only to realize that material gifts can’t replace his presence.

WC: 700

The city lights of Monaco cast a soft, faint glow through the penthouse window, just enough to illuminate the living room where I sat, surrounded by a mess of textbooks, my laptop, and my half-finished notes. I’d been up for hours, the world beyond my screen blurring, but the weight of the deadline looming over my head kept me from resting. Journalism was my dream, and now that I was pursuing a master’s, I couldn’t afford to slip up, especially not with Lewis paying for my tuition and supporting me in ways I couldn’t repay.

But, lately, he was a world away. Another race, another city, always somewhere that wasn’t here. I’d learned to accept it, but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t sting.

When I finally dozed off, the warmth of familiar hands brushing my hair back and a soft kiss to my forehead pulled me gently awake. My eyes fluttered open, and there he was—Lewis, his face hovering over mine, a soft smile playing at his lips. He looked tired, but happy, like he’d been waiting for this moment all month.

“Lewis?” I whispered, blinking in surprise. “I thought you’d be gone for a few more days…”

He chuckled, and the sound made me melt instantly. “I couldn’t wait that long. I missed you too much.” He reached behind him, revealing a familiar small box, the sleek black and gold hinting at something extravagant even before he opened it.

Inside was a delicate Cartier bracelet and matching earrings, glinting in the dim light. I knew the routine well—this wasn’t his first gift after being away, and I knew how much he loved to spoil me. I managed a smile, letting him slip the bracelet onto my wrist.

“Thank you, Lewis,” I murmured, admiring the jewelry and trying to match his enthusiasm, but I could tell he noticed my hesitation.

A flicker of something passed through his eyes—disappointment, maybe. “You don’t like it?” he asked, his voice softer than usual, a trace of uncertainty there.

“No, no, it’s beautiful,” I insisted, meeting his gaze. “I love it. It’s just…”

But before I could finish, he stepped back, his brows knitting together in concern. “Lately, it feels like you don’t,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically flat. “Every time I bring you something, you just… don’t seem as happy as you used to be.”

The sincerity in his voice made my heart ache. I could tell he was hurt, confused, maybe even doubting whether he’d done something wrong.

“Lewis,” I began, reaching out to him, “it’s not the gifts. They’re beautiful, really, but… they don’t make up for you not being here.”

His shoulders slumped, and I could see him processing my words, trying to understand. “I just wanted to make you feel special,” he said, his voice quiet. “I thought, maybe if I could give you things, spoil you a bit, it would help… make up for the times I can’t be here.”

I stepped closer to him, gently wrapping my arms around his waist. “Lewis, you do make me feel special. But it’s not the things you buy, it’s… it’s you. It’s when you’re here, just like this, when you hold me and I don’t have to worry about you being halfway across the world. That’s what I miss.”

He let out a slow breath, as if the tension was finally melting away. “I didn’t realize it was like that,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I thought the gifts would make you happy, that they’d remind you I’m still here, even when I’m away. But maybe… I was just trying to fill the gap in the wrong way.”

I rested my head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat steady and strong beneath my cheek. “You don’t have to try so hard. I don’t need more things, Lew. I just need you.”

He tightened his arms around me, his hands running soothingly over my back. “I’m sorry. I’ll do better. No more trying to buy your love when all you need is me.”

I laughed softly, and he tilted my chin up to meet his gaze. His eyes held that same warmth, but now there was a new resolve in them, a promise. “This winter break, you’re coming with me,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Wherever I go, you’re coming too. I don’t care if school says otherwise, we’ll make it work.”

I smiled, the heaviness in my chest lifting as I held onto him, feeling the familiar warmth I’d missed so much. “I’d love that,” I whispered, finally letting go of all the doubt and distance that had settled between us.

As we stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, I felt like everything was finally right again. He was here, and that was all I needed.

—————————————-

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[nctjpeg]

how i look after deluding myself for so long thinking this mf actually cared about me because they did things such as “telling me how much they care about me” and ��showering me in attention for months and introducing me to all of their friends” and me communicating to them “hey this is super cool and you make me really happy so i hope you don’t lose interest and move onto the next girl once i’m no longer bright and shiny and new to you” and them being like “I would NEVER do that” only for them to do Literally Exactly That™️ so after all that internal work i had to do to even let someone into my life as a potentially significant friend again they just pulled back as soon as I wasn’t fun anymore so NO we were never actually friends and YES i was probably just a sex object meant to boost their ego because they deeply dislike themselves

[wolvietxt]

𝓭ay 𝓽wenty.

logan howlett and overheard conversation.

you had been feeling off for days. something nagging at you, pulling you into a spiral of self-doubt. it wasn't like logan to pull away. sure, he could be distant sometimes, but that was just him. you were used to his gruff exterior, the way he seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. but this felt different, and the thought had been gnawing at you, churning in your gut like a bad omen.

it was late afternoon when you overheard it. you hadn’t meant to listen in, not really, but it was hard to miss when logan’s voice carried through the hallway, rough and low. he was talking to someone - jean, you thought, by the sound of her voice.

"look, i just can’t be dealing with all that right now," logan was saying, and your steps faltered as you rounded the corner. you couldn't see them, but you could hear the frustration in his tone, the kind that made your heart sink. "too much… too fuckin’ clingy. i don’t have time for it."

the words hit you like a punch in the gut, knocking the air from your lungs. you took a step back, your pulse pounding in your ears. he wasn’t talking about you, was he? no, it couldn’t be. except… it wasn’t like you hadn’t noticed how distant he’d been lately. the way he avoided eye contact, kept his replies short. it felt like he was pulling away, and now, you wondered if maybe that was exactly what was happening.

you withdrew to your room, the hurt settling deep in your chest, heavy like a stone. the days that followed blurred together, and you did your best to give him space. you weren’t sure if it was the right thing to do, but you couldn’t bring yourself to push, to ask him what was really going on. so, you kept your distance, hoping that maybe it would help, that maybe it would make things easier on him.

logan, for his part, seemed to notice the change. you could tell from the way his brow furrowed when you didn’t meet his gaze, the way his hand twitched as if he was about to reach for you before thinking better of it. but he didn’t ask. and you didn’t say anything.

one evening, nearly a week later, you found yourself in the kitchen, the room dimly lit as you stirred a pot of soup on the stove. you tried to focus on the rhythmic motion, the heat curling against your face, but your thoughts kept wandering back to that day, to the sound of his voice saying you were too much.

"hey," logan’s voice came from behind you, startling you enough that you almost dropped the spoon. you turned to find him standing in the doorway, his eyes narrowing slightly at the way you tensed.

"hey," you replied, your voice quieter than you intended. "didn't hear you come in."

he grunted in acknowledgment, stepping closer, his eyes flicking over your face, like he was searching for something you weren’t ready to give. "been avoidin' me?" he asked, his voice low, careful.

your fingers tightened around the spoon, and you turned back to the stove, forcing yourself to keep stirring. "just… been busy, that’s all."

"that’s fuckin’ bull," he replied, blunt as always. "somethin's goin' on with you. and don't try to tell me otherwise."

the words were right there on the tip of your tongue, ready to spill out like a dam breaking. but the thought of confronting him, of opening up that wound, made your throat tighten. what if he confirmed it? what if he really thought you were too much? "i'm fine," you said, but even to you, it sounded hollow.

logan stepped closer, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off him, the familiar scent of pine and leather. "you're not," he insisted, his voice gruffer than usual, like he was fighting to keep his own frustration at bay. "you’ve been avoidin’ me for days. if i did somethin’, you need to tell me, baby."

your hands trembled slightly, and you gripped the spoon harder to steady yourself. "it’s not important," you murmured, but the words felt like a lie. you turned off the stove, setting the spoon down before you faced him, your gaze dropping to the floor as your vision began to blur. "just… forget it."

logan reached out then, his fingers wrapping gently around your wrist, keeping you from retreating any further. "don’t do that," he said, and there was a rawness in his voice that cut through your resolve, fraying the edges. "don’t shut me out."

you swallowed hard, your throat tightening painfully. "i overheard you," you admitted, your voice barely a whisper. "the other day. you were talking to jean. you said… you said i was too much." you lifted your gaze, the hurt spilling out despite your attempts to hold it back. "if you don’t want me around, logan, you could’ve just said so."

for a moment, he just stared at you, his expression unchanging. then, something in his gaze softened, and his grip on your wrist tightened just slightly, as if grounding himself. "what the hell are you talkin’ about?" he asked, his brows drawing together in confusion.

"you said i was clingy," you said, the words rushing out before you could second-guess them. "that you didn’t have time for it."

logan’s eyes widened slightly, and then he exhaled a rough, almost exasperated breath. "oh baby… you got it all wrong," he said, shaking his head. "i wasn’t talkin’ about you. jean was askin' if i could help out with some training sessions. she was sayin' i was stretchin' myself too thin, takin’ on too much. that’s all."

the explanation hit you like a gust of wind, leaving you momentarily off balance. "you… weren’t talking about me?" you repeated, your voice small, almost fragile.

"no, darlin'," he replied, his tone rough but gentle. "never."

the relief washed over you in a wave, but it was tainted by the lingering sting of doubt, the way it had burrowed under your skin, making a home there. "i… i just thought…" you trailed off, biting your lip. "i thought you didn’t want me around anymore. you’ve been distant, and i didn’t want to be a burden."

logan’s jaw tightened, and before you could pull away, he was tugging you closer, wrapping his arms around you in a firm embrace. "you ain’t a burden," he said, his voice a low rumble against your ear. "don’t you ever think that."

you hesitated for a moment, then let yourself sink into the comfort of his arms, pressing your face against his chest. his hand moved to your hair, stroking it gently as he held you close, the steady rhythm of his breathing grounding you, chasing away the remnants of your doubt.

"you scared the hell outta me," he muttered, his tone softening as his fingers continued to comb through your hair. "thought you were pullin’ away ‘cause you didn’t want me around anymore."

you shook your head, wrapping your arms around him a little tighter. "never," you whispered, the word catching in your throat. "just… got in my head, i guess."

logan’s hold on you tightened, and he shifted, pulling you into his lap as he settled back against the kitchen counter. his hand kept stroking your hair, and the other rested on your back, his thumb tracing gentle circles there. "you’re stuck with me, you know that, kid?" he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "i ain’t goin’ anywhere. and i sure as hell ain’t gettin’ tired of you."

you let out a small, shaky breath, leaning into him, the weight of your earlier fears slowly melting away. "promise?" you asked, your voice muffled against his chest.

logan huffed a quiet laugh, his breath warm against your temple. "damn right, i promise," he said, his tone soft and sure. "you’re it for me, darlin’. wouldn’t want anyone else."

the words settled over you like a balm, soothing the raw edges of your heart, and you nestled closer, letting the warmth of his embrace seep into your bones. there was a long stretch of quiet then, just the sound of his steady breathing and the feel of his hand in your hair, and you let yourself drift in it, content to stay wrapped up in him for as long as he’d let you.

"you know," he said after a while, his voice a low murmur, "next time somethin’s botherin’ you, you gotta tell me, alright? can’t have you thinkin’ i’d ever wanna be anywhere else but with you."

you nodded, your eyes fluttering shut as you pressed a kiss to his collarbone. "i will," you promised, your voice soft. "i’m sorry i… didn’t say anything sooner."

logan’s fingers curled in your hair, and he kissed the top of your head again, his lips lingering there. "it’s alright," he murmured. "we’re alright."

and for the first time in days, you believed it.

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[paigesfuturewifey]

authors note! IM SORRY FOR BEING MIA college was kicking my ass (still is) and i’m trying my hardest not to crash out but here is an angsty fic :D

this is also heavily inspired by she wouldn’t be gone by blake shelton IK IK country music sue me it is unfortunately part of my roots so yes here she is

“i’m sick of this caitlin!”

you two had been going back and forth for a while about this, both too stubborn to admit who was in the right and who was in the wrong.

it’d been two months since caitlin went first pick in the wnba draft. two months of caitlin continuously forgetting about your date nights, two months of caitlin lagging hours on end and then eventually responding to your messages with one word replies, two months of wondering if caitlin would be home from practice at a decent hour or if you’d go to sleep in a cold, empty bed.

two. fucking. months.

of course, you understood the fact that caitlin’s job required almost all of her undivided attention and you were extremely proud of her and all her accomplishments.

but being second priority to her job was taking a toll on your mental health.

you were tired of being alone all the time. the sacrifices you made, picking up everything and moving to indiana with caitlin to be with her, felt pretty fruitless when you had barely seen her in your own apartment.

caitlin’s response came low at first as she rubbed her temples, “what do you want me to do?” and then she repeated it louder, throwing her arms up in frustration, “what do you want me to do?!”

“i want you to be here! you’re never here anymore, caitlin! i’m alone ALL THE TIME now!”

“that’s not fair. i’m doing this for us! for— for you!”

you shook your head, pointing an accusatory finger at her. “no. no. not for me. this is what you wanted! you wanted this! i didn’t—“

“i didn’t ask you to move to indiana with me!”

the statement felt like a slap to the face. caitlin, of all people, knew how hard of a decision it was to move to indiana. to be away from your family. your sister, your parents.

caitlin never pressured you into it, of course. she was insistent that if you had decided to stay in iowa, you’d make long distance work. but when you ultimately decided to stay with, whom you thought was the love of your life, caitlin couldn’t of been more happier.

the two of your popped a bottle of champagne in celebration and spent the night talking, laughing, planning your futures together.

a bittersweet memory that seemed so distant at the moment.

as you narrowed your eyes, you felt a tear roll down your cheek, followed by three or two more. “you know what, caitlin? you’re right. you didn’t ask. but it was a sacrifice i was willing to make for you!”

“you’re not the only one making sacrifices—“

the mere start of the sentence had you letting out a laugh, putting your hands behind your head as you paced back and forth. “you’re not listening.”

“i am listening—“

“no! you’re hearing me but you’re not listening to me!”

silence fell upon the two of you, both contemplating your next words because you both knew you guys were pretty close to crossing lines that couldn’t be uncrossed.

you placed your hands on the counter, leaning on it while hanging your head low, letting the tears drop onto the floor. “i can’t do this anymore,” you finally let out in a small whisper, but it hit caitlin in the gut. “i don’t want a life where i spend more time waiting for you than being with you.”

“you don’t mean that. please baby, stop.” caitlin’s warm hands were suddenly around your waist, leaning her head on your shoulder and kissing softly. “let’s just go to bed, yeah? i promise, i promise things will be different, okay? i’ll make more of an effort. i’ll try and get home on time for dinner. i know things aren’t easy right now, but i can’t lose you. we’ll figure it out, i’ll— i’ll try harder. okay?”

but even when those words eased your mind a little, you both knew the promise wouldn’t be kept.

so it wasn’t really a shock to you when you sat at the dinner table, candles lit and your meal sitting in front of you with the empty chair across from you.

you cooked caitlin’s favorite meal, wore her favorite set underneath your clothes that was her favorite color. you looked at the clock, and when it read 10:30, you scoffed.

you were fed up. you were well over your boiling point.

and, so, when caitlin entered your guys’ apartment at midnight, her heart ached a little at the sight of your untouched meals at the table, and candle she assumed was lit at one point.

she rubbed a hand over her face, quickly walking to your shared room. then she froze in her spot.

your side of the room was empty. from your nightstand being stripped of its decorations, to your side of the closet being completely empty.

the suitcases you used for when you guys planned vacations were gone. along her your toothbrush, makeup, hair products, basically everything that made your shared apartment shared was gone.

caitlin wasted no time picking up her phone and clicking your contact, holding the phone to her ear. she anxiously waited, suddenly feeling as if her whole life was falling apart.

voicemail. she tried seven more times. all went straight to voicemail.

her mind immediately went straight to denial, there was no way you picked up and left, right? you always said you would, but caitlin never believed you. never truly believed you.

or maybe she just didn’t listen to you.

she snatched her keys from the table, leaving the apartment and shutting the door loudly behind her. she bet all her money that her neighbors hated her.

that’s how she ended up in her car, speeding down the highway on a rainy night, frantically calling all of your shared friends.

she started with your mom, driving down the road at 90 miles an hour and switching lanes like an absolute maniac. she’d gotten honked at at least four times already.

“caitlin.” your mom greeted, though judging by her cold and and distant tone, and her use of caitlin’s full name instead of cait, caitlin could tell the news had no doubt got back to her.

“do you know where she is, mrs. l/n?” her question came right off the bat, figuring she had no time to waste in finding you.

your mom’s answer was quiet. and caitlin learned your families habits quickly enough to know that when she went quiet, she was lying. “please—“

“i’m afraid i can’t speak with you now, goodbye caitlin.”

then the line went dead.

with her left hand on the steering wheel, she punched the middle with her right and threw her head back.

her next call was kate because you three all had been very close throughout your iowa college years. kate always understood you in a way that made caitlin jealous.

and for a while, she she was a topic of argument in your relationship because caitlin constantly needed reassurance that she was the one you wanted.

there was clearly a rift in caitlin and kate’s friendship after, but after the move to indiana, they seemed to be mending their friendship. until now.

kate answered on the first ring with a hard question. “what’d you do, clark?”

“kate, i— i fucked up. she’s gone. i don’t know where she went. her stuff’s gone, her clothes are gone, she’s gone.”

“damn it, caitlin. you always do this shit— you drove her away, again.“

“do you know where she is?” caitlin demanded, arriving to her first destination.

“no.”

“you’re lying.”

“no i’m not—“

“i should’ve figured you wouldn’t help me find her. you’ve always been pathetically in love with her, ever since college.” caitlin scoffed out bitterly.

“caitlin—“

“know what? no. you’ve always been on her side, since day one. i can’t even do this right now—“

“you’re frustrated with yourself, about driving y/n away, so your picking a fight with me.” kate spoke calmly, fueling caitlin’s anger.

“don’t fucking psycho analyze me, right now martin.” with that she abruptly ended the call, getting out of the car and walking into the ice cream shop the both of you loved dearly.

after that, she went to your favorite coffee shop, after that, nalyssa’s apartment, then aliyah’s, then the hotel near your apartment.

she held her face in her hands, finally letting the sobs ripple through her. she suddenly realized how under appreciated your voice was. she was forgetting how sweet it was, how beautiful it was when you hummed her to sleep.

she was forgetting your voice already.

and she realized that she should’ve fought harder. should’ve told you how much she loved you, cherished you, needed you.

maybe, just maybe, if she had done that, you wouldn’t be gone.

safe to say caitlin didn’t find you that night, and no one told her where you might’ve went.

[pinkroseblooms]

Boy Toy

Sugar baby!Toji Fushiguro x Sugar mama!f!Reader

Summary: You try to break things off with Toji; needless to say, he does not take it well. wc: 5.1 Warnings and tags: this story contains smut, dirty talk, cursing, rough sex, begging, emotional manipulation, toxic behavior/relationships, some soft!dom/bratty!sub elements, a clingyyandere!toji, possessive behavior, obsessive love, some angst, some fluff, all twisted af.

a/n: I see a lot of Sugar daddy!Toji content and wanted to switch things up a bit with some emotional feels. I also ended up listening to Rick Montgomery's "Boy Toy" on repeat and got ideas. Personally I headcanon that if Toji ever did somehow develop genuine love for another person it wouldn't necessarily help him chill out this time around, he'd just become more unhinged.

His things are in a pile, close to the solid red oak door; they’ve been packed away in brand new luggage carriers and on top is the duffle bag Toji had initially used to carry his stuff in for overnight stays.

If it were anyone else, Toji would have expected the various articles of clothing and personal items that had steadily accumulated inside your spacious home to be thrown out carelessly like trash on your equally spacious lawn. That or burning in the firepit. 

If it was anyone else but you, it’s what Toji would have expected, but you weren’t petty that way; even now as you stand before him, arms crossed, gaze almost blank, you radiate a certain measure of dignity. It’s one of those things Toji’s come to admire about you over the past year. It’s effortless, that magnetizing charm you exude; he liked it right away.

“You can keep the bags, sell them if you want.” Your lips form a small but rueful smile. “I sent you a check; call it a severance fee.”

“I thought I didn’t work for you anymore.”

Toji hasn’t considered you a client in months, though really, a mark was more accurate. You were disgustingly wealthy with a cute face and that was all he needed to pounce on the offer to be your bodyguard and occasional companion to the odd social events. Even cleaned up and polished, Toji was able to keep others away in droves, exactly what you were aiming for; you found social obligations tedious and his handsome yet intimidating presence kept everyone around you from lingering too long and insisting on taking up too much of your time and attention. Toji spent the first three or so months in your company essentially as an employee and he was satisfied with the arrangement. It would have been so easy and simple, it should have been, had you not burrowed your way into his head, like a bullet piercing bone. 

Dammit he never should have fucked you. Toji had every intention of keeping things professional. He should have kept his distance, he certainly shouldn’t have let his fingers trace your skin after zipping up your dress, and damn you by the way for looking over your shoulder at him with those pretty doe eyes and not telling him off when the second you caught Toji leaning in, almost like he wasn’t realizing he was doing it, to get a whiff of your scent mixed with the perfume he had said was his favorite. 

“You don’t have to keep the charade up anymore; it’s insulting at this point. I won’t force you to stay here.”

“You’re dumping me.”

“No. That would mean we were actually dating. Toji…Fushiguro-san, I made a mistake.” You’re almost talking to yourself as you look over Toji’s tensed shoulders to the entrance of your home. “I was fooling myself, thinking you could open your heart to me. But, I knew what I signed up for. So, no, I won’t leave you without any job security until you find your next meal ticket.”

“You’re not-”

“I heard you. Please, it’s not like you to back track on your words, so don’t start on my account.”

Toji was bragging over the phone, giving a verbal middle finger to an asshole of a former employer who demanded Toji’s services for a hit. You overheard him refer to you as a “piggy bank” with a pretty face, among other things. Shortly after ending the call, Toji left to work out (he couldn’t get too lazy, got to keep in shape to protect his favorite girl) and grab some food (on your card) only to return to this. You didn't even give Toji a chance to greet you with the usual flurry of kisses and a bear hug before telling him point blank he was leaving and now.

Even as Toji struggles to wrap his mind around your abrupt change in demeanor, with that practiced look of almost serene impassivity, you look so good to him, wearing an oversized sweatshirt and tiny bike shorts. You always dress down at home, in comfy, baggy things. Toji supposes you packed away all the sweatshirts you’ve collected from him with everything else of his. 

“You won’t even let me apologize?” Toji stands stiffly in the foyer, next to the bags; behind him is the front door, still open, as if waiting for him to step outside. “It was all shit talking. I didn’t mean how it sounded.”

“That doesn’t make it better and it’s not just that. You’ve been hot and cold lately. Admit it: you can’t bring yourself to acknowledge me as anything but an obligation.” You exhale slowly, rubbing your temple. “I’ve tried to be understanding; you lost your wife and I realized it would be hard. I knew that, I knew there was a chance that no matter how close we became, I was never going to be enough for you.”

You put up a good front, but Toji can recognize the faint tremble in your voice, see how your jaw locks slightly, as though you’re holding back curses. He’s hurt you. 

“Baby, c’mere?” Toji opens his arms with a pleading half smile. “You’ve been stressed lately, that’s all. You’ve been working hard and I haven’t been showing my appreciation properly, is that it?”

“Oh spare me. Listen, I won’t swear revenge or sick henchmen on your trail.” You go on, calm as can be, not budging an inch. “The check won’t bounce and all your things are there; if I missed anything, I’ll send it to you. You’re free to go.”

Toji stares at you in disbelief, arms dropping to his sides. You could have just as easily said "you're dismissed" with that cutting tone of yours.

“Are you fucking serious?” 

When you fail to respond, he suddenly turns from you, but not to storm off. Instead, Toji slams the front door closed so hard, it’s a wonder the whole structure didn’t come crashing down. You don’t so much as flinch when Toji strides up to get in your face.

“I want my stuff out of these bags.” he snarls. "Now."

“There’s no need to make a scene. It’s not like you’ll be without a benefactor for long; I bet you could find another meal ticket just walking down my driveway. The whole neighborhood is full of lonely rich women, you can have your pick.”

“You’re not a meal ticket. You know that, you know I didn’t mean it dammit!”

“Enough.” You raise a hand up, your voice clipped. “Fushiguro-san, you have your things, plenty of money, and my own promise to leave you in peace. What more could you possibly want? What exactly is it that you’re holding out for? You don’t expect me to fund you indefinitely, I’m sure.”

"Why are you acting like this? Like you don't even give a shit?"

Toji’s hands clenched into fists; he’s radiating power and murderous intent, but you don’t look swayed or even scared. You know he wouldn’t strike you. Just the idea sickens him; no, it’s not you he’s actually angry with. 

“I’m a fucking idiot who wanted to show off, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear? Fine. Now we’re gonna talk this out like adults, I’ll put this shit back-"

“No, you will not. I want it gone. I want you gone. Don’t you understand?” You tell him firmly, eyes finally averting to the pile of bags. Toji’s puffed chest deflates at the sadness that finally touches your inflection. “I’m disappointed enough as it is; can’t you do this one thing for my sake? Why are you insisting on dragging this out?”

“I want to put it all back.” Toji blurts out stubbornly, so loud his voice echoes in the high ceilings. “You can’t do this to me, I want to stay.”

“Excuse me?” You snap. “What exactly am I ‘doing to you’?”

“Come on, this is so silly, kicking me out over a misunderstanding.” Toji lowers his voice, a smile coming to his lips as he attempts to charm you once again, hands coming up to gently grasp your shoulders. “You’re breakin’ my heart here. You said it yourself, it’s a been over a year, you know me-”

“Do I?”

“Yes!” Toji steps forward, a strained grin on his lips. “You do. You know me and you know you’re my best girl.”

“Out of all the others?”

“Best and only; I haven’t been with anyone else in months.” Toji rubs his hands over your arms but you only give him a look of derision. “I’m not lying; tell you the truth, ever since we went out to the beach, it’s only been you. Remember that trip?” he grins softly, nuzzles your temple; he knows you want to lean into him, you’re just being stubborn. How adorable. He loves when you get grumpy and need his help relaxing. “I showed you how to make a fire and we fell asleep outside on the hammock. That night was something else...you’ve been the only one ever since. Baby, I swear, there haven't been any other women.” 

Toji inches closer, hands shaking slightly where they grip your shoulders; his love bites are still visible, some more faint than others; his arms ache to hold you. You’re so close, so what’s with this wall you’re putting up? 

"I want to believe that."

"It's the truth."

Toji isn’t sure how or when it began, but before he knew it, you were calling just to talk and ask how he was doing, if he needed anything. You requested he join you not just for meetings as extra muscle or posing as a date, but on walks and meals, having conversations about the weather to debates about the nature of man to whether toast was better with jelly or jam. You’d take Toji out randomly on shopping trips and end up buying him pretty much anything that caught his eye. Anything Toji wanted, he got, and along with it you increasingly showered him with praise and affection. 

When the sex began Toji thought he got you out of his system the first time, only to end up not just repeating these trysts, but staying longer and longer after he fucked your brains out. It was borderline embarrassing, how quickly Toji found himself lulled in by your pillowtalk as you encouraged him to sleep in, promising you’d have breakfast ready for him in the morning. Sometimes, Toji would come over when you weren’t even home with the spare keys you gifted him and promptly burrow himself in your bed until you were due home. The whole room smelled sweet and it was so cozy being wrapped in the down blankets. Toji's eyelids would get heavier as he wallowed in your scented sheets ike a pig rolling in mud until the combined aromas of your perfumes, lotions, and natural scent clung to his nostrils, soothing and oddly familiar; within minutes Toji would be out like a light. After some of the best rest he had ever gotten, Toji would wake up to you stroking his head, petting him like a dog, and asking him what he would like for dinner. 

Eventually, inevitably, came the point of no return. During that beach trip Toji told you about his past; he didn’t go into too much detail, mainly that he had loved someone and he was pretty sure lightning only struck once. You didn’t get jealous or angry; you simply kissed his knuckles and put your hand over his, not saying much of anything while Toji spoke. That night on the beach you held his hand and allowed him to reminisce at his own pace into the early hours of the morning, until he was too exhausted to do anything else but hold you and the two of you stayed that way until noon.

That peaceful, almost unreal night, Toji realized you actually gave a shit about him and he didn’t know what to do with that. Regardless, you made it clear you didn’t expect to own his heart and soul. You only promised to take care of him. 

“I was being stubborn, you know how I get sometimes. You’re my one and only, baby, can’t we just forget about it?”

“I want you to leave.”

“No.”

“It wasn’t a request.”

“No!”

Toji’s hands cup your cheeks and he winces at the disgust in your eyes; why are you looking at him like that? 

“Okay, okay, let me make it up.” Toji’s voice is sweet as pie; he leans in, practically purring in your ear. “Let’s go upstairs. I’ll show you how sorry I am.”

“Get. Off. I knew you were shameless, but this is...”

You might as well have slapped him across the face; Toji’s smile falls as you glare like he’s some repulsive insect, a leech, like the thought of him touching you is making your skin crawl.

Toji’s hands retract from your face, expression blank. “You’re really serious.”

“Don’t give me that kicked puppy look. As if you don’t have women on speed dial to call up. Why don’t you make up with one of your other meal tickets? I’m sure they’ll have forgiven you by now for however you wronged them-”

“I told you there isn’t anyone else. Don’t do this.” Toji mutters, head hanging; his chest throbs, he can feel sweat trickle down his temple. “Don’t make me go.”

It’s doubtful you could forcibly remove Toji from your presence, but that’s beside the point. It doesn’t mean anything if you don’t want him. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted.”

“No, I’m really sorry.” Toji falls to his knees. “Don’t make me go.”

“Hey, wait, what are you…?”

Toji wraps his arms around your thighs, face pressed into your waist; you stiffen but he hangs on tighter, fingers digging into your hips almost painfully.

“Please, don’t make me. I wanna go upstairs, back to our bed. Listen, I,” Toji pries himself away from you just enough so he can look at you with glassy eyes. He’s panicking now, babbling and frantic as you try to pry off his arms. “Stop that! Baby, I got all messed up about getting too attached and I-I didn’t mean anything I said, you gotta believe me.”

“Toji, let go!” 

A cold sweat makes Toji’s already tight shirt stick to his tensed back muscles; he feels like he’s being choked. How could you do this to him? All he wants is to stay with you, whether it’s as a bodyguard, a hired companion, a fuck toy, hell, he’ll settle for being your pet if that’s what it takes to get you to take him back. 

"You promised you'd take care of me." he mutters, ignoring your vain attempts at freeing yourself from his unyielding hold. "I don't...want it to be anyone else."

Toji won’t let you go. You’ve made him lazy and spoiled with your pampering; he doesn’t have to work if he doesn’t want to, never has to worry about money or food or rent, and he never has to wake up alone anymore. Whether Toji’s angry, tired, bored, or as of late, happy, you’re the first person he thinks of. You give him everything and now you’re trying to cut him off.

"You let me go right now!" You slap at his shoulders, try to pull back his head from where it's pressed into your midsection. "Are you even listening?!"

With a distressed moan, Toji nuzzles your tummy, kisses the skin peeking out from your sweatshirt riding up under his forearms; his rough hands relax their grasp a fraction to caress your hips. 

“Let me stay. I won’t answer calls from my old bosses, I’ll quit betting. If I look at another woman, gouge my eyes out. All you have to do is tell me how to fix things.” Toji smiles at you, one he knows makes women weak in the knees. “Don’t be mad at me anymore. I’ll make it up, I swear. I’ll do anything you want.” he promises between kisses and nips to your skin. “Why are we wasting time arguing? You know, I can make you feel so good. My poor baby, spending all day working so damn hard; you deserve better. I'll help take the edge off...you’d like that, wouldn’t you? I can help, just-”

“Toji, stop-”

“Just let me dammit!” 

Toji feels you freeze up; you’re looking back at him with wide eyes. His stomach drops like a rock.

“Sorry…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

No. Now you look scared, maybe a bit concerned; is that for him? Toji can feel some warmth creeping into his chest in spite of everything; you’re so good to him. You went to so much trouble for him and he has no idea why. 

You can’t do this. You can’t treat him like a thing to be cherished and then take it all away. Toji just wants things to go back to how they were that morning, with you feeding him berries and syrup drenched pieces of fluffy pancakes, giving him teasing kisses in between each bite, asking what his plans were for the day as he lounges in your lap, wondering what he did to deserve to be so content and full and happy. You made him so happy.

“Shit.” Toji sniffs; he can feel them coming but can’t stop the tears leaking from his eyes. “Shit.” he curses again, bowing his head until it’s resting against your tummy again. “You can’t…you can’t leave me. I won’t let you. I won’t let you abandon me. I can’t-”

“Toji, calm down.” Your voice softens considerably. “Look, do you understand why I’m upset with you?”

“I know, I know I fucked up okay?” Toji croaks, still clinging to your legs. “So what the fuck am I supposed to do, huh? I already said I would do anything you want, so just tell me!”

“Sh, come on, breathe. I need you to calm down, alright?” You bend at the waist slightly, to card your fingers through his damp hair. “Okay, I believe you. I do. I believe you, Toji.”

“Are you gonna kick me out still?”

“No, I won’t for the time being. We can sit down and talk about-whoa!”

Toji wastes no time; he has you lifted off the ground in his arms. You quickly wrap your arms around his shoulders as he makes a beeline for the stairs.

“Slow down!” You glance backward in disbelief at how easily he bounds up the carpet steps. “How are you so strong? Don’t drop me, okay?”

But Toji doesn’t answer; he practically bolts, finally reaching the next level, races down the hallway until he’s at the door to your-the bedroom he and you share. Toji’s heavy boot easily kicks the door open, somehow without breaking it off the hinges; in record time you’re on the bed, but shockingly, Toji doesn’t start stripping you down.

“Toji?” You ask tentatively; he seems fairly out of it and you can’t help feel worried. “Toji, what are you doing?”

“Baby, I’m tired. Let’s just go to bed, huh?” 

Toji kicks off his boots, gently sits you down in the middle of the mattress among the fluffy pillows and the cheap plush bunny he won for you at a crane machine. Nearly hyperventilating, Toji climbs into bed after you, snatches the sheets and comforter to wrap around the two of you in a soft cocoon. Toji grabs you, cradling you in close as he tries to even out his breathing; for a fleeting second you wonder if this is what stuffed animals felt, if they could become sentient, when children held them tight for comfort. Your attention is brought back by the man rubbing his face into your hair insistently, as if he could tell your mind had briefly wandered.

“Hey, are you-?”

“Don’t make me go.” Toji cuts you off hoarsely. “You love me, right?”

“I do.”

“Say it.”

“I do love you.” You confess sincerely, words muffled slightly due to your face being squished into his chest; his heart is beating a mile and minute. “I was hurt, alright? I want to be good to you, Toji. You have to let me though; you’re not the type to dance around an issue. I just want you to be honest with me and yourself.”

“Yes, yes, I want that. You’re so good to me, baby, thank you.” Toji wraps his legs around yours; if there was a way for you to mold into him he’d make it happen. “Can I move my stuff back in?”

“I…” You hesitate. “Maybe we’re moving too fast.”

“What? No we aren’t. If anything, we're not moving fast enough. Are you still thinking of leaving?” Toji grabs your face in his hands, forcing you to look at him; his eyes look crazed. “You’re not right? You just fucking said you loved me-!”

“Hey, hey.” You put your hands over his gently. “If you really meant what you said before, you have to listen and be good. Can you do that for me?”

Toji nods quickly. You smile for him, finally, and it's a sight for sore eyes. How do you always look so pretty? Toji’s chest throbs and he hugs you, making your ear press against his heart; you can hear it, right? It almost stopped dead when you were glowering at him, Toji still can't believe he was so close to losing this. It's not going to happen again.

“I wanna touch you.”

Toji separates from you as abruptly as he had squeezed you to him; he hovers above you, tugging on the band of your shorts, your panties. He groans pitifully when you still look unsure. Toji hikes your legs up until your ass is pressed to his chest and he’s face to face with your pussy, still covered up. That won’t do: wordlessly, he rips the seams of your shorts apart and pulls your panties to the side. Gently spreading your pussy lips with his fingers, Toji makes sure to look you in the eyes while he lets a long trail of spit trickle from his tongue to your exposed clit. 

“See?” he licks a long strip over your slit, salivating at the taste. “I’m drooling for it, just like a dog….heh, I can be your dog. Is that what you want? I’ll fetch and roll over and beg.” he traces his tongue around your swollen clit. “All you gotta do is ask.”

You can barely form words, forget making requests, as Toji slobbers, licking and sucking until you’re dripping wet. Your hands grip the pillows and your head rolls back and forth; you can hardly speak and you’re more squealing than moaning when Toji starts using his fingers to fuck your soaked pussy.

“I’m loyal too. You’re not ever getting rid of me.” 

Toji pulls back, kisses and nips the inside of your thigh as he watches his fingers disappear inside you over and over again. He’s smiling down at you, dumbly, in a daze as you let out soft cries with every pump of his wrist, every time his thumb rubs a touch too hard on your clit. He’s the only one who gets to see you like this, composure gone, face flushed, eyes wide, hardly able to do more than moan and whine at his touches. Toji���s smile turns devilish; he purposefully pulls his fingers out and shoves them back in to draw out the squelch sounds from how wet he’s made you. He slowly drags his fingers out all the way and you inhale sharply from the sensation.

“It’s my turn to spoil you.”

Toji lowers your hips down on the sheets and quickly shrugs off his sweatpants and underwear; his cock bobs when it’s released and you’re a bit shocked at how hard he is despite not touching himself.

“Let me fuck you.” Toji rocks his hips, cock over the inside of your thigh. “You still want me, right?”

And if you think he’s going to stop at one round, if you think for a second one time is going to be enough and you somehow still plan to have him out on his ass, maybe you don’t know him. Toji’s fingers dig into your ass; he’s rutting now, throbbing and dripping precum all over you and the bedspread. It brings a twisted grin to his face, like he’s marking his territory. After all, this is where he belongs. If you won’t be persuaded by his touch and words alone, Toji has other ways, he just doesn't want to resort to making you afraid of him. 

Because he meant exactly what he said: you're not getting rid of him. If you try to, Toji will just come back. If you run, he'll chase, if you hide, he'll come looking. You've made him into this.

“’M being good, yeah?” Toji lowers his head to your chest to slobber over your nipples next, barely able to speak with his lips sucking and his tongue flicking over them. “I can keep making you feel good, just let me fuck you, let me put in in, let me wreck you-”

“Toji, I want to ride your cock tonight.” You play with his hair and kiss his jaw. “Can I?”

Toji doesn’t hesitate; he throws himself back to lie on your pillows, getting even harder as your scent hits him. He licks his lips in anticipation as you straddle him, stroking him once before lining the tip up with your pussy. Toji’s eyes roll in the back of his head as you slowly sink down, clenching tight; he has to grab at the sheets and force himself to be still, has to keep telling himself this is for you, he’s going to go at your pace and show you how good he can be, obedient and careful. You’ve got him wrapped around your finger and he loves it-

“It almost hurts. You're so hard.” You gasp when you’re fully seated on his cock. “Oh, Toji…are you going to cum soon?”

“Nah, don’t worry about that baby.” Toji grins up at you, face flushed and hands shaking as they cling to the pillowcase. “So good…it feels so fucking good when I’m all the way inside. Go on, use my cock to cum, ride me until your pussy can’t take it.”

You tilt your hips so the tip of Toji’s cock rubs against that spot that makes you see stars and your clit gets rubbed against him with every thrust. At first you have your hands over his chest, but when Toji tries to slide his hands up to grab at your tits, you stop him.

“Huh?”

“No, you don’t get to touch me.” You pant out, gently but firmly holding Toji’’s hands above his head. “Tha-that’s your punishment.”

Toji’s brow furrows; he’s practically pouting. He knows he said "anything", but he wants to touch you so badly. Your tits look good enough to eat, nipples slick and begging to be played with, and your skin feels like silk on his fingers. Toji watches, biting the inside of his cheek, tasting blood when you start bouncing, thighs taut and face contorted in pleasure as you get closer and closer to making a mess on his lap.

“Baby,” Toji groans. “Come on, let me, you’re close right? It’ll feel better.”

“I can cum like this.” You say playfully as you tap his pursed lips with one finger. “You said you'd be good.”

“Just wanna touch you....” Toji’s hands twitch but he doesn’t shake off your grip; he raises his hips and you let out a whine. “Please?"

You stop moving and Toji grits his teeth, staring at you with wide eyes. 

“Hey…why did you stop?” 

“Sorry,” You smile in genuine delight. “You’re really adorable, you know that?”

“Fuck, keep goin’,” Toji nibbles the tip of your finger before you pull it away. “Come on, keep making my dick wet,”

“So cute.” You cup his face and press a long, loving kiss to his forehead. “I love you, Toji, I really do.”

Toji can’t stop himself; he yanks you down, traps you in his arms and thrusts up. 

“Ah!” 

“Sorry, ‘m sorry baby. I gotta,” Toji slurs. “Ah fuck it.”

You shriek as Toji flips you over; he has your legs spread and lowers his face down to suck and kiss and bite at your breasts, slamming his cock as deep inside your pussy as he can go. He briefly touches your hair, patting your head as you scream and writhe, smiling down at you so warmly even as his cock splits you open.

“Can’t help it. Need it, need this so fucking bad.” 

Toji latches onto your neck, sucking so hard you think he might tear the skin; you cry out and your nails accidentally scratch long, red lines down his back and shoulders. You’re clawing and sobbing, completely overwhelmed underneath him. He’s fucking you like an animal with no regard for pacing or rhythm, holding you down and open for him to slam his cock inside your swollen little pussy. Toji straightens up to grind himself into you just the way he knows you like best, gently rubbing away at your clit, smirking at the way you gush around his cock. You’re so pretty like this, flushed and messy for him.

“Tell me again. Tell me you love me and I’ll make you cum so hard your legs shake.”

“Love you,” You gasp, arms wrapping around Toji’s bulging neck, drawing him in closer; you press kisses over his cheeks, nose, chin. “I love you, I-ah!”

Toji is done being patient; he keeps his thumb pressed down on your clit, rubbing it harshly as he grinds his cock right into that spot, deep and hard; you’re never going to forget how his cock feels. Toji kisses you none too gently, lips prying your mouth open as he shoves his tongue down your throat; he really doesn’t even mean to be rough this time. The desire to devour you is overtaking him. 

He’s so close. Your pussy’s soaking, his head’s spinning; just before Toji’s about to cum, you muster up enough energy to hold him back tightly and pet his hair, moaning softly into the kiss, wrapping your legs around his waist. Toji wanted to last longer, but it’s too much. Abruptly, he breaks the kiss and his mouth goes to your jugular; Toji swears he can feel your pulse under his teeth.

“Cum inside me.” You plead, whimpering into his ear. “I want it…want you, Toji, no one else.”

“Shit.” Toji presses his forehead to yours, hiking up your thighs; the bed is creaking and shaking with the force of his thrusts. “I love you so fuckin’ much.”

Toji goes rigid and still as he cums, cock suddenly painfully sensitive; when you smile tiredly and kiss the palm of his hand, actual tears well up in the corners of his eyes. It’s all too much. He didn’t know he could even still feel like this, feel much of anything anymore. You shudder from his hot cum gushing inside you, but Toji doesn’t pull out just yet and you don’t seem in a hurry to move him anyway.

“I think you broke my dick.”

“...pardon me?”

“Pretty sure your pussy drained me dry…fuck.” Toji chuckles tiredly, very slowly pulling himself out, smiling in satisfaction as his cum seeps out of you and onto the sheets. “Did you like that?”

“I loved it.” You tell him softly, just beginning to catch your own breath as Toji uses his shirt to gently wipe you clean between your legs. “Toji?”

“Yeah?” Toji tosses his shirt somewhere and lays over you. “You want me to get you something? I bet you’re real tired after that.”

You pause; you look very serious all of a sudden, all business once more. “Toji, we really should talk about ‘us’. I don’t think we can just return to what we were.”

“What? But you said you loved me.” Toji raises his head to glare at you. “You’re not seeing other men, so put that idea out of your fucking head.”

“That is not what I meant!” 

“Okay…what is it then?”

“I was going to say, are you sure this is what you want?” You ask carefully, looking into his eyes. “Is this really what you want?”

“Does a bear shit in the woods?” Toji can’t believe you even have to ask; he frowns and clicks his tongue impatiently. “Fair warning, I’ll find you if you try to leave before I wake up.”

“I don’t doubt it, you’re an excellent tracker.”

“I mean it.” Toji mumbles into the crook of your neck, his heavy arm over your stomach. “You run, I’m hunting you down.”

“I wasn’t planning on making a grand escape; I was thinking something more along the lines of breakfast in bed.” You suggest and smile at the way Toji’s visibly perks up. “Oh, have you had dinner yet?”

“No, I came straight here from the gym.” he lies, eager to have you fuss over him. "I'm really hungry..."

“I’ll order in something; what do you want?” 

“Anything, just get lots of it.” Toji squeezes you. “But don’t go yet though. Wanna stay like this a little longer.”

“Whatever you want.”

In minutes, Toji is snoring and curled up in your sheets like a tuckered out puppy; his leg even kicks randomly. When he wakes up to the smell of warm food and your nails gently scratching his scalp, Toji yawns with a groggy smile and opens his mouth for you to feed him, licking crumbs off your fingers greedily. You really do spoil him. 

[itsmarsss]

Maybe. [Miguel Diaz x fem!Reader] (Cobra Kai)

(~from the vault~)

Miguel Diaz is annoying. That you are convinced of. Sure, you've never really talked to him, but still, you live a very happy life that way. But then one day he gets wasted at a party and you end up with the unfortunate job of driving him home. Sounds like just your luck.

Warnings: making out, little jokes about sex, some sexual tension there. enemies to lovers except the enemies part is completely one-sided

Word count: 9,567

[...]

Miguel Diaz wasn’t the kind of guy to have a lot of enemies.

He had, in fact, become fairly popular after he started doing karate and won a fight against West Valley’s biggest bully, surpassing the loser label that had immediately been slapped onto him when he’d moved into the neighborhood.

He was the typical nice guy who pretty much everyone seemed to like. Good at school, the type who wouldn’t hesitate to help you with schoolwork if you asked him to. Always nice to everyone, greeting and smiling at random people he’d never talked to before in the hallways as if they were one of his friends.

But, to you, Miguel Diaz was just irritating.

Everything about him somehow made you mad. He was just so apparently perfect and all of a sudden people couldn’t seem to shut up about him and that was sure to make you nothing short of annoyed. Yeah, you supposed he did seem nice, but you were positive it was impossible that all that sudden praising hadn’t gotten to his head.

You were convinced he was a huge asshole deep down, just a loser who got lucky enough. And though you had no real evidence to back that up, yet to see this facade of his that you convinced yourself of, you still couldn’t get yourself to like him.

Whatever. You could survive a life without him in it.

It didn’t help, though, that your best friend was friends with him. Did karate with him, too. Aisha absolutely loved Miguel, and seemed to make sure to mention it to you all the time.

They were genuinely good friends, and so you supposed you did feel a little bad when you dragged her to sit with you and away from her Cobra Kai friends during lunch, but you were positive that if you tried to sit with them you’d end up saying some not very nice things, and you weren’t up for drama at the moment.

But she kept bugging you about it, insistently so, and god, could Aisha be persistent when she wanted to. So one day, to shut her up about it mostly, you agreed to go with her and her friends to a party at the canyon.

You told her you’d try to be nice, but made a promise to yourself to keep distance from a certain someone specifically. Maybe then you’d be able to enjoy the night and- hey- maybe even the others’ company.

Maybe.

[. . .]

“Don’t just stand there!” Aisha laughed.

“Since when are you a party person?”

“Since I realized I could throw them!”

Wait, what? “Wait, this is your party?”

“Well it’s a Cobra Kai party…”

Alright, so you didn’t want to give it to them. Cobra Kai as a whole annoyed you to no end, as it seemed to be a breeding factory for nerds turned into stuck-up assholes, but you couldn’t deny you were grateful for how much it helped Aisha. The Aisha you knew a few months prior would have never had the guts to throw a party, let alone assume people would attend it.

So, fair enough. “Cool!” “Hey Aisha come watch me do a keg stand!” Some guy you’d seen walking around with the Cobra Kai guys before yelled from the other side of the place.

Aisha glanced back at you, seemingly a bit torn about leaving you. “Do you wanna come?”

“No it’s fine. I think I’m gonna grab something to drink. Now go!” You assured her, smiling. You wanted her to enjoy having other friends.

You barely had time to pick yourself up a drink before you weren’t alone anymore.

“Y/N!” A guy wearing a graphic t-shirt that quite literally read ‘📍your mom’ under a flower pattern button-up called your name, walking towards you. You furrowed your eyebrows, confused, as you were completely sure you’d never talked to him before.

You didn’t know how to feel about not being so invisible anymore, all by association with Aisha. It definitely felt a little weird. “Um. Have we- have we met? Sorry.”

“Not really. But Aisha talks about you a lot. I’m Demetri, by the way,” he held out his hand, and you shook it. What teenager shakes hands these days?

“Well, Y/N.”

“Yeah, I know,” he laughed. “So, you want me to show you everyone?”

“Uh. Okay. Sure. Yeah. That'd be cool."

“So, that’s Eli-” He pointed at the guy who sported a blue-dyed mohawk, and was currently rather busy making out with someone you actually knew- Moon. You didn’t exactly like Moon, but you supposed she did seem to be more of an out-of-touch person than a mean one, compared to her friends. “Uh yeah, who’s apparently making out with Moon. Somehow. He likes to be called Hawk now but I think that’s pretty ridiculous.”

“It is.”

“Yeah well he used to uh- some people used to call him Lip. ‘Cause he has a scar.”

“That’s him?” Said boy pulled away from Moon, and you took a good look at him. It was him. You always thought he looked cute, but you had to admit now he looked kind of hot.

You had to give Cobra Kai some credit in that area too.

“Yeah.” Demetri turned you around. “Those two walking down are Robby and Samantha and-” He seemed to realize something, suddenly looking worried.

“Something wrong?”

“No uh. I don’t really talk to them. That,” he spun you around one last time, “Is Miguel. But you must know him already.”

“Yeah I’ve heard of him.” He was downing a beer bottle at rapid speed. “He’s really getting shitfaced,” you pointed out.

Demetri still looked worried, nervous. “Yeah uh, Sam’s his girlfriend.”

“The one walking down the hill?”

“Yeah.”

“So?”

“He thinks she’s cheating on him. With Robby.”

You looked at the two again, laughing, their fingers intertwined. You could be taking it wrong, of course, but it did look like they were together in some way. It wasn’t that far of a stretch to feel a little jealous of a scene like that at least. “Oh that sucks.”

You weren’t heartless, okay? Just because you didn’t like the guy didn’t mean you wanted him to get cheated on. If that’s what was even happening.

“We should go-” Demetri grabbed you by the wrist, pulling you with him on Miguel’s direction.

“What? No-” You weren’t heartless, but you weren’t his friend either. What were you going to do, comfort him? Let him cry on your shoulder? Come on now.

But you didn’t even have the time to protest. You were already there, and it seemed that so were the Samantha girl and the Robby guy , and Miguel didn’t look pleased.

Well, he was laughing, but it was definitely not a good kind of laugh.

“So I don’t have to worry, right? Well that’s funny.”

Miguel was wasted.

He tried to pick up a fight, and ended up hitting his own girlfriend on accident, which had, expectedly, resulted in her breaking up with him on the spot. Now you were sitting beside him, and you didn’t know what to do.

Wouldn’t it be best if you just left? Clearly you shouldn’t be here, his actual friends should be dealing with this. But then again it would be too shitty to leave Aisha on her own. You had agreed to be her designated driver after all.

Everyone was quiet, apparently not knowing what to say. God, someone really should bring the guy home.

Hawk spoke up, finally, voicing those same thoughts. “Um, dude, you should go home.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re really drunk, man, just go home.”

“I walked here.”

“Shit. Right. Do any of you have a car?” Demetri asked no one in particular.

“Oh Aisha does. Well it’s her dad’s,” you pointed out, not really thinking it through.

Aisha’s look shot up. “But-” You could see she was conflicted. You could understand. Finally people wanted her around, and she wanted to stay a little longer for that.

You could not believe you were about to do this.

“I’m such a good friend,” you muttered, standing up, and Aisha looked at you, puzzled. You held your hand out. "Gimme the keys."

"What-"

"Do it before I change my mind."

She did as you said, placing it on your hand. You took another look at Miguel, then at Hawk. "Can you help him?"

Hawk immediately stood up to do so, and you made your way to Aisha's car, leaving both Aisha and Demetri behind with a promise you'd come back later to drive them all home too.

"Do you know where he lives?"

Hawk was done shoving a now barely conscious Miguel into the passenger's seat, buckling the seatbelt for him, which you took notice of. He seemed to care a lot about Miguel. "Yeah I'll- can you give me your number? I'll forward it."

"Sure."

[. . .]

"Where are we going?" At some point along the way Miguel seemed to have gained a little consciousness back, his eyes widening as he took bearing of his surroundings. You could understand why. He was in a random car going who-knows-where with a kind of random person who hated him. Well he didn’t really know about that last part, but still.

"I'm taking you home."

"No, no, no, no, no, no, my mom can't see me like this."

"What?"

"I can't go home like this you don't get it-"

"But where-"

"She's been so proud of me lately, I-" Was he… crying? So he was an emotional drunk. Miguel Diaz, a crier. Who would've thought.

"Well where the fuck am I supposed to take you?"

"I- sensei- no he lives next door you can't-"

"Diaz I'm gonna take you home. I don't care."

"Fuck."

You actually took a good look at him when you had to stop at a red light. He looked a mess. He was sweating, hair sticking to his forehead, legs shaking in anxiety.

You couldn't be this soft, right?

You sighed in annoyance, but you were doing this to yourself, really. "I'll take you to my place. But you better sober up cause you're gonna have to get in through the window."

He seemed surprised. "You'll do that?"

"Yeah don't get used to it. I'm kicking you out as soon as I wake up."

He stayed silent the whole ride, until you turned the engine off.

"Thanks," he muttered under his breath, before you opened the door to get out. You didn't reply.

You helped him out, holding him by his wrists until he got his balance back, and you both climbed through your bedroom window, which you were now thankful you'd left open.

"G’mme your phone."

“Why?”

“I’m gonna text your mom.” He unlocked it, getting the password wrong a few times before handing it to you. The texts you sent were simple.

hey mom im really tired gonna stay at demetri’s call you in the morning!

You didn’t know if trusting Miguel to be alone with his phone, in that state, especially after what had gone down at the canyon, was the smartest choice, so you took it with you, stuffing it in your back pocket.

“Okay look I still gotta get Aisha and the guys, so I'm trusting you to keep quiet." This was a bad idea. "Can you do that?" This was a terrible idea.

He nodded before plopping down on your bed. This was a horrible idea.

He was asleep in a second, and there was nothing else you could do but hope he'd stay that way as you climbed your way back out.

. . .

"Okay any of you that wanna get home get in the fucking car please," you said, not really up to stay and wait even more for them. After all, every second you were there was one more second in which a completely wasted Miguel Diaz was alone in your room, with your mom right there in hers.

All three got inside pretty quickly, and you dropped them off as fast as you could. Demetri first, then Hawk, Aisha last.

You actually got in through the door this time, so your mom would know you'd gotten home without having to go check your room. You prayed she hadn't done that already.

"Mom? You awake?"

"Yes! The party done?"

"Yeah. Had to drop some friends off, sorry I took too long."

"It's fine. Didn't Aisha pick you up though?"

"Oh yeah she left the car with me, got to be the driver for today. I’ll just pick her up tomorrow.”

"Oh okay honey!”

"Well I'm really tired. Gonna go to sleep.”

"Yeah, me too. Goodnight!"

“‘Night, Love you!”

With that, you quickly took off to your room to check on Miguel, who, surprisingly, was still asleep on your bed.

Your relief quickly washed away when you registered the fact that he was asleep… on your bed. You know, where you were supposed to sleep. Fucking great.

You considered waking him up and making him sleep on the floor. For… reasons that had everything to do with not being an asshole, and nothing to do with anything else at all, you didn’t.

You grabbed some blankets and placed them on the floor beside your bed, snatching one of your pillows from under his head. This was going to absolutely kill your spine.

You took one last look at him, and couldn’t contain a laugh at how ridiculous he looked, draped over the bed, hair disheveled, literally drooling. You’d have to change your pillowcase tomorrow.

‘Good-fucking-night, I guess.'

[. . .]

Your alarm went off at 7, as it always did on school mornings, and you jumped awake when you remembered how gross you probably were after the previous night. Miguel was still in deep sleep when you left to take a shower, but was sitting up on the bed, looking confused, when you came back. He’d apparently already taken the advil you left for him on your nightstand, as it was nowhere to be found.

“Are you- what am I doing here?”

“Drank too much. Cried like a baby when I tried to drive you home,” you shrugged. “Now hurry up, dude, or we’re gonna be late.”

“What?”

“Look we’ll talk in the car, I can’t be late for chemistry again or Mr. Henderson is gonna be up my ass about it.”

He still looked completely out of the loop, barely awake yet, but nodded, standing up and following you to the car.

“Why’d you bring me here?” He finally spoke up after a couple minutes in silence. It seemed that he was finally becoming fully aware of what was going on.

“I was actually gonna bring you home, but you started crying ‘cause you didn’t want your mom to see you drunk or whatever. So. Next best thing.”

“Thank you.” He paused. “So, uh. you’re friends with Aisha, right? She talks a lot about you-”

You cut him short. “Look, just because I let you stay over and sleep in my bed doesn’t mean we’re friends, alright? You don’t have to be friendly just ‘cause you think you owe me something.”

“Um, I was just trying to be nice-”

“I’m not an asshole, I wasn’t gonna do you like that. I’m very nice, you’re very welcome, whatever.”

“Are you- are you... mad at me?” He looked surprised- no, dumbfounded was a more fitting word to describe it.

You scoffed. In truth, you still had no idea what about him got you so irritated. It’s not like he wasn’t being nice.

Still, you couldn’t help it. “What, can you not believe there’s one person out there who doesn’t worship the ground you walk on?” Okay, so you were exaggerating. So what? Not like it was gonna make much of a difference for him.

“I don’t think anyone worships the ground I walk on.”

"Whatever, Diaz. I’m only doing this ‘cause you’re Aisha’s friend.”

“Okay.”

Silence.

“I’m sorry, by the way.”

“About what?”

“Your girlfriend, or whatever.”

He hesitated. “Yeah, it’s fine. I was an asshole last night. Should’ve expected it. I’ll get over it.”

“Yeah. Oh Hawk’s bringing you a hoodie, by the way. So you don’t smell like alcohol at school.”

“Thank you.”

Nope. “His idea.”

He nodded. “Right.”

It wasn’t long until you pulled up into Aisha’s driveway, making your way out and around the car and opening the passenger's door to find Miguel staring at you, silently asking what you wanted.

"Move. I take shotgun when Aisha drives."

"Does that really-" He didn't bother finishing his sentence, letting out a sigh before unbuckling his seatbelt and getting out.

"Thank you," you said, making sure it didn't actually sound like you were thankful at all, before hopping in. Miguel did the same, getting in the backseat.

You quickly separated as soon as you got to school, with Miguel following Hawk to change into the hoodie he brought him, and you and Aisha getting on your way to Chemistry with Mr. Henderson.

Aisha shot you a weird look. "Why are you acting like this?"

"Like what?"

"You're being a total bitch to him! What happened to the person that took him home last night? Let him stay over?"

"For your information I do have empathy, you know? He was crying!”

"You still could've just taken him home," she shrugged, a smug look on her face. Jerk.

"Hey this is all on you! He left my bed reeking of beer, you owe me a big one."

"He slept in your bed?"

"And I slept on the floor, dumbass! He was passed out drunk!"

"Yeah sorry I don’t think I remember a lot of it. But you slept on the floor? That must've hurt."

"It did. So he should be very thankful."

"I... think he is. You're just not letting him thank you."

"Hey I let him thank me! But that doesn't mean we have to be friends. I'm doing pretty well without him in my life."

"Just admit he's not as bad as you thought and move on!"

"Oh fuck off. What do you want me to do next, marry him or something?"

"Hey you’re the one who’s bringing it up,” she put her hands up in surrender, as if defending herself.

"Shut up. Pay attention, Ms. Robinson!" You mocked her, turning to the projector in front of you.

[. . .]

"Yeah right like Demetri could win a fight against Hawk."

"I think he could! If he got some training." Aisha protested, laughing.”

"Oh come on have you seen the guy? I don't know what your sensei's been feeding him but he's like jacked now."

"Oh so you've been paying attention?" She raised an eyebrow in an exaggeratedly suggestive manner.

"Like I'd want something to do with a guy from Cobra Kai."

"Hey!"

"You're an exception! You are on thin ice though."

"Well I think you should give them a chance."

Of course you could see right through her. "If by them you mean Miguel's included then you can forget it."

"What is it with you and him anyway? What did he ever even do to you?

"Nothing? I don't know, he just makes me mad. You can't be that perfect and not be an asshole."

"Did you just call him perfect?"

"I was being mean about it!"

"You totally d-" She stopped mid-sentence when she noticed you weren't paying attention, your eyes focused on something right behind her. She turned around to face…

Well, speak of the devil.

"What?" You asked him dryly. What could he possibly have to talk to Aisha about right now that required interrupting your lunch?

But he was actually talking to you. "I uh- I think I left my phone at your place? I can't find it anywhere."

You mentally cursed yourself for it, remembering you'd taken it with you the night before. "Shit yeah. I was scared you'd call someone or it would ring and my mom would hear or something. I guess… You can come over to get it after school if you want."

"Yeah. Sure. Thanks." He was about to turn around and walk back to the table he was sitting at with his friends before he stopped. "Do you guys wanna like. Sit with us?"

Aisha looked at you expectantly.

"No, we're good," you replied, and he nodded, making his way back.

"Dude! Let's just go!"

"What I already have to see him after school and now you want me to spend lunch with him? No thank you."

"You're so stupid."

You stuck your middle finger out at her before going back to eating.

[. . .]

You had already told Aisha goodbye, and were about to leave when he came up to you again. “Hey! Y/n! Wait-”

You turned around to face him. He was out of breath, clearly having run all the way up to you. You quirked an eyebrow, demanding him to tell you what he wanted. This was like a 400% increase on your Miguel Diaz interaction scale and you were right about done.

“My phone.”

Oh, right. He was coming over, like, right away. That was great.

“Yeah right. I’m walking home though.”

“Yeah I’ll- I’ll walk with you.”

And what an awkward fucking walk.

“Well here it is,” you handed him the phone, and he took it, stuffing it in his back pocket.

“Alright, thanks.”

“Sure.”

“See you at school?”

Hopefully not. “I guess.”

[. . .]

“Oh I’ll- be right back!” You heard Miguel’s voice behind you as you walked through the hallway alone, on your way to bio, and made sure not to look his way, hoping he wouldn’t see you.

You had no luck with that.

“Y/n!”

You let out a defeated sigh before turning around. He was wearing a deep-red hoodie, which was something you took notice off, for some reason.

“Yes?”

“Hey I know you don’t want anything to do with me-” you nodded, agreeing, and he pursed his lips together before continuing. “-but I think uh- I think I left my socks at your place too?”

He had to be kidding, right? “What?”

“My uh- my socks.”

“You think you left your socks in my room. And you wanna go get them.”

“Well yeah.”

“Can you not survive without one pair of socks?”

“Well-”

“You know what, fine. Whatever. I’m leaving a little late today though so you’ll have to stick around.”

“Yeah sure.”

You wordlessly turned around and walked to class. It seemed that interacting with Miguel was now a daily experience. That was just such fun, huh?

. . .

You found him waiting for you by the bike racks, right by the front steps, as you exited the building. You kind of didn’t actually expect him to wait for you. I mean, he could just ask you to look for the stupid socks and bring them to him the next day. That’s certainly what you would do if you were in his shoes, as to avoid the interaction.

You had to remind yourself, though, that the hate you felt for him isn’t mutual, which only angered you further. Couldn’t he just hate you back? Be a little rude? Maybe then you wouldn’t look like a bitch for being like that towards him.

“You didn’t take that long,” he pointed out.

“Yeah. Turns out they wanna move the project up for one more week or something.”

“That’s cool.” He pulled his bike out of the rack, grabbing the handles and starting to walk with it by his side, and you followed along. You were both quiet for a couple minutes before, of course, he couldn’t help himself from talking. Did he think everyone wanted to hear him talk all the time?

A tiny part of you told you he was just trying to be nice. Okay, fine. Maybe you were being too harsh.

“What’s your deal with me?”

Yeah, no, he can perrish actually. “What do you mean?”

“I mean why do you hate me so much?”

“I don’t hate you.”

“It… definitely looks like it.”

“Well I don’t.” Well...

“Then why do you act like you do?”

“What, are you trying to psychoanalyze me?”

“I just wanna know what I did!”

“You didn’t do anything! You never seem to do anything wrong, do you?”

“What?”

“What, don’t play dumb. I don’t know what it is, okay? You just annoy me. You’re so nice to everyone and everyone just likes you so much and you don’t even have to do anything!”

“You don’t like me… because I’m nice to people. And so they like me.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“It’s how it sounded.”

“Whatever. We’re here,” you pointed out, and you made your way into your place. Not without taking notice of the sky, which was a dark grey color now, a storm forming. “Come on you can leave the bike here, looks like it’s gonna rain.��

“Yeah, I think…”

[. . .]

… So you were stuck at home with him.

This had to be a nightmare.

The clouds were quick to cover the sky right after you got inside, and you could barely see any hint of sunlight despite it still over four in the afternoon. Rain started pouring heavily quickly after, a storm suddenly forming in no time.

And so there you were. In your kitchen. Alone. Stormed in with Miguel Diaz.

This was just fantastic. Great, amazing, wonderful even!

And your annoyance was apparently visible. “Look if you’re so mad about it I can go-”

You stared at him for a couple seconds, unamused. “You wanna bike? In the middle of the storm?”

He just shrugged.

“I don’t hate you that much, you know? You can stay ‘till it’s over.” God, did you hope it would be over soon.

“See you told me you didn’t hate me at all.”

“Okay yeah you can go.”

He laughed. “Fine. I won’t push. Do you wanna do something?”

“I mean I don’t think there’s a lot to do. I guess we could watch something.”

“Yeah! That’s cool!”

“Well what do you-” you were interrupted by the sound of your phone ringing, and you took it out of your pocket, only to see it was your mom calling. Miguel sat back down by the counter as you picked it up.

“Honey are you okay? Are you home yet?”

“Yeah we got here just in time. Are you alright?”

“Yes, but the rain’s really bad here- wait, we? Is Aisha over?”

You took a glance at Miguel. Now how to explain that?

“Uh, actually it’s another friend.”

“Is it? Who?”

“Um his name’s Miguel? We were gonna do a- a physics project. But he rides a bike, so.”

There was a pause. “Right. Are you two gonna be okay?”

“Yeah don’t worry! We’ll just do what we need to do ‘till he can go.”

“Fine. Call me if you need anything! I’ll head home as soon as the storm clears.”

“Right. Love you!”

[. . .]

“Um does she not mind?” You were both sitting on the couch now, about 20 minutes into Thor: Ragnarok, when he said something.

You looked away from the screen. “What?”

“Y- your mom? That I’m here, I mean.”

“Oh she did sound a little- I dunno. But it’s not like she’s gonna make you go out in this weather.”

“Cool. Oh- we didn’t- I didn’t get my socks.”

You laughed at the thought of him thinking about his stupid socks the entire time you’d been watching the film. “Do those socks really matter that much to you? Oh are they too embarrassing? Do they have like little spongebobs on them or something?”

“No, I just-” he seemed to be fighting it, but was now laughing too. “No they don’t have little spongebobs on them. Just remembered it.”

“We can get it after the movie’s done.”

“Right.” He brought his attention back to the TV, but you decided to grab your phone and text Aisha.

y/n

dude youre not gonna fucking believe my luck

She replied almost instantly.

aisha

????? what happened

y/n

well miguel came over to get his socks or whatever

aisha

and???? ;))))))

y/n

this isnt a ;) situation!!! were stuck inside!!!

aisha

omg are you serious its just rain

y/n

yeah but pretty boy here rides a bike

aisha

dude you walk

y/n

irrelevant!!!!!

aisha

well what are you doing rn?

y/n

were watching thor trying not to kill him

aisha

oh shut up

y/n

he’s annoying!!!

aisha

just watch the movie and wait for the rain to stop its not that hard

y/n i've watched this like 7 times already he was just really excited to watch it

aisha

awww you're all soft for him

y/n

im going over your house to kill you

aisha

you cant bc you're stuck with miguel!! WAIT

y/n

what?

aisha

you're home alone with a cute boy and youre complaining??

y/n

hes not a cute boy!!! hes miguel!!!

aisha

whos a cute boy

y/n

you dont even like guys

aisha

im not blind??

y/n

shut up

aisha

get some!!!!

y/n

die

aisha

:))))))

You put your phone down looking at Miguel once again. He was really concentrated on whatever was going on in the movie, so you decided it was safe to stare for a little bit. He didn’t look as messy like he did that day at the party. He even-

“That hoodie looks good on you.”

Where the fuck did that come from?

You really hadn’t meant to say it out loud. You couldn’t quite figure out his expression. God, he was gonna make fun of you-

“Thanks,” was all he said in return. He was staring at you now, as if trying to figure you out. You supposed you had to give it to him- you were just as shocked at yourself to blurt that out as he seemed to be. The movie seemed to be long forgotten.

You expected some snarky remark, a cocky grin. But nothing. Was that it? He was probably controlling himself as to not laugh at your face about it, you just knew it.

You couldn’t take the embarrassment. Why did you have to make things weird? You suddenly stood up in a quick motion. “I’m gonna find us something to eat.”

Aisha’s texts must have just gotten to your head, because why else would you even say something like that? You didn’t think he looked in that hoodie. Wait, no, that’s not what you said. You said you thought the hoodie looked good on him. Whatever, you had to focus.

And then he did the worst possible thing he could have done, which was offer to go with you.

Fuck off, fuck off, fuck off! “Sure.” You tried to act normal. There was nothing normal about the weird tension you’d managed to create between the two of you.

It’s safe to say things were awkward. You occupied yourself with opening and looking through every single cabinet in the kitchen, even the ones where you knew there would be no food, trying desperately to find excuses to delay looking at him.

“Um are you okay?”

“Yes.” You were not. “Why?”

“You’ve been looking for something for a while. I’m not that hungry you know, you don’t have to.”

“Well I am.” You grabbed the first thing you could find, which was a chocolate bar, thankfully. At least one good thing to come out of this never-ending disastrous afternoon. “Found it.” You held it up for him to see, but made sure to avoid eye contact before making your way to the living room.

You both sat down to resume watching the movie, but there was still this weird energy around the room, one which, again, you’d gracefully created on your own, and you felt antsy. “Do you wanna go get your socks?”

“Uh, okay?”

You nodded back, turning around and making your way towards your room, knowing he’d follow you. You quickly sat down on your bed and waited for him to walk through the door.

“Hey.”

“Um I didn’t see any socks anywhere so. Feel free to look around.” You finally worked up the guts to look at him for a split second. He nodded.

[. . .]

An hour had gone by since, and the storm didn’t look like it was getting any better. You’d even passed the point of being embarrassed about what you’d said earlier- okay, maybe not completely, but still- and were just staring at the ceiling, laying on your bed, waiting for the time to pass. Miguel was sitting right beside you, and you didn’t remember the last time one of you had said a word until he broke the silence again. God this kid loves to talk doesn’t he?

“You don’t actually hate me, right?”

“Are we still on about that?”

“There’s not really anything to talk about. I don’t know anything about you.”

“My name’s Y/N Y/L/N. I go to West Valley High. I'm stuck inside my house right now."

“Wow now I know everything there is to know, thank you,” he returned with sarcasm.

“What do you wanna know?” It had to be the peak of boredom, engaging in small talk with Miguel Diaz of all people. What was this, 21 questions?

“Well what kind of music do you like?”

“Little bit of everything I guess. Rock, pop, whatever.”

“You like 80’s rock?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool. My sensei showed it to me and it’s been my favorite.”

You didn’t mean to laugh.

“What?”

“Just weird. Sensei.”

“Well that’s the word.”

“Yeah I know.”

“Have you ever thought about it?”

“Thought about what?”

“Joining Cobra Kai.”

This time you made sure to laugh loudly. “Yeah. Would be a dream come true.”

“What’s so wrong with Cobra Kai?”

“Don’t get me wrong, Diaz, Cobra Kai has helped Aisha a lot. But honestly it just seems like it recruits nerds and turns them into self-conceited jerks.”

“Um would I be one of those self-conceited jerks?”

“Sure.”

“Have I done anything to you? I don’t-”

“You haven’t. But just- everyone keeps praising you for everything. And you didn’t let it get to your head? I don’t buy it.”

“People don’t praise me for everything. I've gotten beaten up a fair amount."

“Whatever.”

“Well what’s your favorite color?”

“Are you seriously asking me that?”

“It’s a valid question.”

“What’s yours?”

“Orange.”

“That’s lame.”

“What's yours then?”

“Y/F/C.”

“That’s lamer.”

“Very funny.” You mocked him, but realized you were actually smiling.

He opened a smile of his own. “See? I’m not that bad.”

“You’re bearable.”

“That’s progress.” There was a pause. “Well you should come to practice some day.”

“Why would I do that?”

“To see that you’re wrong! We’re like family. I’ve never had anything like that before Cobra Kai.”

“Yeah I don’t think that’ll happen. But I’ll keep it in mind.”

[. . .]

“Yes mom I know. Yes he’s still here. Of course I’m not gonna let him go out in this weather. No, are you sure? But where will you- fine. But please talk to me. Right, love you.”

“So?”

“She's gonna have to stay there until things get better.”

“What? Is it still that bad?”

“Apparently. There were like a bunch of car accidents around the buildings.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

[. . .]

“This is so fucking boring.”

“Do you have any games on your phone or something?”

“You sound like a little kid.”

“Shut up.” He totally did.

“What is it?’

“What?”

“Stop staring at me.”

“I’m not staring at you.”

“You were! Weirdo.”

There was a pause. “Did you mean it?”

“What?”

“That you think my hoodie looks good on me.”

“No?" You tried.

“Then why why’d you say it?”

“Can we not talk about that?”

“You know if you actually gave me a chance I think we could be good friends.”

“Yeah in your dreams, Diaz. I’d probably kill you.”

He actually had the nerve to laugh at you. “Yeah I don’t think you could.”

“I think I could!” You tried defending yourself, but you knew it was complete bullshit. I mean, have you seen his arms?

Not that you’d been looking!

Obviously not.

“Did you forget I literally do karate almost every single day?”

You shrugged in fake disdain. “Still think I could take you.”

He let out an incredulous laugh. “Okay.” He stood up, holding his hand out to you. You shot him a confused look. “What, prove it then!”

“No I’m not doing that.”

“So you’re admitting you can’t take me.”

You knew you couldn’t, but you also doubted he’d go too hard on you. Plus this was a matter of pride now, you couldn’t just let him have that. He knew exactly how to push your buttons to get you to do this. You immediately took his hand, standing up as well. “I said I could.”

“Alright. Come on," he challenged you, getting in a fighting stance, and you tried your best to mimic him, holding your hands in fists in front of your body. He laughed at that, reaching to change the position of your hands. “Okay this,” he said as he moved them just a little bit, “could break your thumbs.”

“Fine. That good enough, sensei?” You mocked, and the boy made a funny expression at that, but quickly snapped out of it.

“Okay, so I’m gonna try to sweep your leg, like this,” he pretended to do the motion, “and what you’re gonna do is block my leg with your right arm, like this,” he did the same with the new movement.

“This isn’t a karate lesson, just fight me!”

“Alright, whatever you say. You ready?”

You were not. “Yup.”

Okay, terrible idea.

In no time he’d done as he said, and your back was immediately pressed to the floor, with no time to even process it happening.

Still, you weren’t gonna just not get a little fun out of it. “You got lucky."

He dared to laugh at you again, before sticking out his hand for you to take. You couldn’t contain a grin as you pulled him to the floor beside you, laughing at his surprise when you were successful.

“Oh I see how it is!” He exclaimed, laughing. You were already starting to stand up, but he tackled you to the floor again, hovering over you.

“Jerk!” You punched him on the chest, playfully, but you were both laughing, despite both being extremely out of breath. You tried to catch him by surprise again, and went to flip your positions, but he was quicker, pinning you to the floor by both your wrists. It was no use then, when he was clearly stronger than you.

But then something really, really weird happened. After your laughter calmed down, it was impossible not to take notice of how the two of you looked right now.

It’s like you had to think about it a second time for the situation to actually click: he was on top of you, having you quite literally pinned under him by your wrists, practically straddling you at that point, with his knees on the floor on either side of your hips.

You looked up at him, and he was staring at your face. Intently so.

For some reason you couldn’t get yourself to look away. It lasted a ridiculously long time, the eye contact, or at least that’s what it felt like, and you were still out of breath from the play fighting, your brain trying to catch on to the situation you were in.

You could swear you saw him glance down at your lips, fueling the tension that was already inherently thick in the air between you. You immediately tried to rid yourself of the thought, as it was probably ridiculous- but then he did the last thing you’d expect him to do.

He actually leaned in.

And you did something even weirder than that: you actually let him do it.

In a second his lips were on yours, and he almost lost his balance as you got your wrists free of his grip, instinctively reaching for the back of his head, intertwining your fingers to his hair.

The adrenaline of it all was thrilling, and it was like your brain had stopped stopped working altogether. After all if you had been functioning normally you would not find yourself in this situation.

No matter. At that moment all you were really worried about was kissing him. You kissed him back, and then you did it again, and again, and again, until you had to pull away to breathe, your chest heaving up and down, as did his, and your breaths being the only sound heard around the entire house, much louder than the now muffled sound of the rain and thunder outside.

And then you made eye contact again and it seemed as what just happened downed on you, all at once.

You had just kissed Miguel Diaz.

No, much worse: you had just made out with Miguel Diaz. On your bedroom floor.

Ooooooooh, no.

Your eyes went wide and you were quick to push him away, standing up.

“Are you-”

You cut him off immediately. “I’ll be right back."

“But-”

“I’ll be right back!” You repeated yourself. “You can go uh- looking for your socks or whatever if you want.”

“Are you serious-” you made your way out of the bedroom, straight into the first room you took sight off- the bathroom. You made sure to lock the door before you sat on the floor, back pressed to the wall.

Okay, so that just happened. You just kissed Miguel Diaz. No, actually, you just kissed Miguel Diaz back. He kissed you. But then again you kissed back. But he kissed you first, which means he was attracted to you? Did that mean you were attracted to him? No, you- okay, maybe.

Shit, shit, shit.

You pulled out your phone, scrambling to find Aisha’s contact. You hesitated before sending anything, knowing she'd tease you about this until the end of time , but Miguel was right outside and you had no idea how to face him after this. Holding your breath, you pressed send.

y/n

i did something

She took a minute to reply, and you jumped when you heard the sound of the notification.

aisha

okay should i be worried

y/n

um depends

aisha

okay im definitely worried did you actually kill him

y/n

no

aisha

then what did you do did you kick him out?

y/n

also no

aisha

girl just fucking say it!!!! i dont have time for this

y/n

okay but you cant say i told you so

aisha

youre definitely worrying me

y/n

he migthve kissed me

aisha

IM SORRY WHAT WHAT THE FUCK WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE KISSED YOU WHAT WHAT DID YOU DO????

y/n

i,,, might have kissed him back

and we mightve made out like a little bit

aisha

YOU DID NOT ARE YOU JOKING? ILL LITERALLY MURDER YOU IF YOU ARE

y/n

why would i joke about that?????????? you think i wanted this to happen???

aisha

well clearly you did????

y/n

no!!!!!

aisha

why would you have kissed back then?????

y/n

i dont know!!!!!! reflex?????

aisha

yeah right

was it reflex to KEEP kissing him back????

im gonna call you

y/n

no hes still here!!!!!!

Your phone rang, and you were quick to decline.

y/n

hes still here! hes gonna hear us!!!

aisha

omfg what are you gonna do

y/n

die maybe?

aisha

i knew you were into him

y/n

i am not!!!! into him!!!!!! HE kissed ME!!!

aisha

and you kissed back!!!!

y/n

that doesn’t mean anything!!!!

aisha

yes it does???????

“Y/n?”

Fuck. He was right outside the bathroom door.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes I’m great Diaz. Go look for your socks.”

“Yeah um- I found them.”

“Cool.”

“Hey it’s okay if you don’t wanna talk about it, I shouldn’t have-”

“Yeah, you shouldn't have.”

“I mean you… kind of did kiss back.”

Silence. What could you reply to that?

“Can we not? Talk about it.”

“Uh. Fine?"

“Okay. I’m coming out then. And we can finish the movie.”

“Sure. The sky’s clearing up too so.”

“Okay.”

You unlocked the door, inhaling deeply before opening it.

[. . .]

“Why did I let you do this? This is weird!” You whispered to Aisha, making sure the others didn't hear you. You'd let her convince you to sit with her friends from Cobra Kai during lunch, claiming it was the best way for you to seem ‘chill’ about what had happened. You were immediately regretting it.

You’d agreed not to talk about what happened at your place the night before, but things were still pretty awkward with Miguel, and it was really, really visible. Hawk had been stealing small glances at you, then immediately averting his eyes to Miguel, and so you were sure Miguel had told him all about it. Sure, you'd told Aisha too, but whatever.

He was probably bragging about it or something, in typical fuckboy fashion. Or something.

“It’s literally fine! You’re seeing things.”

“I’m not seeing things! It’s literally so awkward!”

“You can't avoid him forever!”

“I don't have to sit with him at lunch either!”

[. . .]

You’d almost considered yourself lucky for not having had to see Miguel in any other instance during the rest of the day, even congratulating yourself on managing to avoid him when he, of course, approached you at the exit.

“Y/n!”

You stopped, sighing in defeat. “Yes?”

“Are we cool?”

“Sorry?”

“I mean it seems like you’re acting weird, I don't know.”

“Does it really matter to you? We're not friends, so.”

“Okay. But we- was it that bad?”

“What?”

“That I kissed you, are you that mad about it?”

Your eyes widened and you looked around, trying to see if anyone around you heard him. “I told you I didn’t wanna talk about that!”

“Well let’s just solve it so we don’t have to! I thought you wanted it too. I mean it- it seemed like you did at the moment but now I don’t know and I’m really sorry if-“

“Look I don’t know what happened okay? You don’t have to feel bad about it or anything, you didn’t read it wrong. But it was a one time thing. It I’m trying to be more friendly with you guys because of Aisha, but there’s nothing more to it. It was just a heat of the moment thing.” You turned around, already starting to walk before he had the chance to talk more.

Of course he still yelled after you. “You should go see us today!”

Okay, big change of subject. “What?”

“At the dojo. We have practice at five.”

You were the one to not get the time to say anything back this time, him hopping on his bike and getting on his way.

Well, should you?

[. . .]

“This is stupid.”

“You’re just watching!” Aisha said, trying to cheer you up. “I can’t believe I couldn’t get you to come see me but Miguel could.”

“That’s not what’s going on.”

“Right.”

“It’s not! Did I not sit with your friends at lunch today? I’m making an effort. For you.”

“And only for me.” She didn't sound like she believed it at all.

“Only for you.”

She let out a laugh, and you elbowed her arm. You got to the place, entering the door, which made a bell sound out. You couldn't help but notice the ridiculous amount of snake drawings, which was apparently the dojo’s logo, that were scattered on the walls. Despite that, the place looked decent.

You caught sight of writing on one of the walls.

“That like your mantra?”

Strike first. Strike Hard. No mercy. Very inviting.

“Something like that.”

“Not violent at all,” you pointed out.

“What's the point of karate if it’s not violent?”

“Isn't that LaRusso's whole thing? Non- violent karate?”

“Well he’s stupid, so that fits.”

“Okay, well I’m gonna-”

“QUIET!” A man you hadn’t seen walk in shouted, startling you and all the students.

“Ms. Robinson, who are we missing?”

Aisha looked around. “Hawk and Miguel, sensei.”

“Okay. They have three minutes.” He seemed to finally take notice of you. “New student?”

“Y/N’s my friend, sensei-” did they have to refer to him as sensei in every single sentence?

“Yeah I'm just here to watch-”

“What are you, a pussy?”

“Sensei!”

“I’m sorry?” You asked, dumbfounded. Okay, what was happening?

“Don’t think you can handle one class?”

“I don’t-”

“If you’re staying in my dojo, you’re participating.”

You looked at Aisha. “I mean it can’t hurt,” was all she said, shrugging her shoulders.

“Are you kidding me-” At that very moment you heard the bell again, turning around to see who it was. Of course the timing was immaculate. Hawk and Miguel entered the dojo, taking their shoes off and stepping into the mat. You turned back around to face Aisha. “Do I have to take my shoes off?”

“Yeah.”

You did it quickly, before getting back to your place. Were you really about to do this? And what for? Because you couldn’t say no to a scary old man?

Because you couldn’t say no to…

Nevermind.

“Alright quiet! Fighting positions!”

Everything was happening way too fast, and you tried to keep up, trying to remember the stance Miguel had helped you with the night before. Sensei walked through the rows of kids, all dressed in those weird clothes except for you, which naturally drove his attention to you, to which he laughed. “Yeah do that and you'll leave a fight with two broken thumbs.” Right.

Just to prove your luck, Sensei Lawrence had a fantastic idea. “Diaz, you’re in charge of teaching her the first moves. I’m teaching these nerds here how to headbutt. Again.”

“Yes, sensei!”

You were accepting it, the Universe had to be having the time of its infinite life at your expense. Miguel walked up to you, sporting a smirk. “You came.”

“Because Aisha asked me to.”

“Right. Of course.” You both walked off to the side of the mat, as to not disturb the rest of the class. “Alright, fighting stance.”

You made sure to make a face before you did as he said, remembering to leave your thumbs out of your fists this time. You were not giving him the satisfaction of correcting you about that again.

“Okay, that’s good. But you gotta-” he pushed your feet further behind with his own. “Okay. Now the most simple punches you’re gonna do are the jab and the cross. You’re gonna do the jab like this-” he showed it, punching the air with his left hand, “and the cross is gonna go like this,” he did the same, with his right hand this time. “But you’re gonna punch this,” he motioned to the punching bag in front of you.

“Oh, I kinda hoped I'd get to punch you!”

He smiled. “You’ll have plenty of time for that.” He positioned himself behind the punching bag, holding it in place.

"Do I have to do the weird grunt noises too?" You messed with him.

“Just go.”

You tried you best, not really having any idea what to do.

“Okay stop.”

“What?”

He came up beside you. “Okay pay attention.” He did the movements, slowly this time. “You’re letting your hand punch down. It’s supposed to stay just in your eyesight.”

“So like this?” You tried it.

“Yeah but don’t bend your elbow. You could sprain it that way.”

“What? I don’t-”

“And you really thought you could take me?”

“Shut up. I could report you to your sensei, you know.”

“I’m the sensei right now.”

“In your dreams.”

“Come on, you can do it.” He took you by surprise as he placed a hand on your waist, pressuring it down so your legs would stay steady, and grabbed your right hand with the other one. You tried not to think too hard about it. It was a little hard focusing on what he wanted to teach you when you knew what it was like to- no. No wandering there.

He curled your fingers into a fist. “Okay so your hand will already be in a fist, right here, and then what you’re gonna do is hold it out in a straight line, you can’t let it fall down-”

[. . .]

“You can admit it, you know?”

“Admit what?”

“You liked it.”

“What?”

“Karate.” Oh. Right. Karate.

“I would never.”

“You totally did!”

“Okay. Fine. A little. But I think it definitely would have been better if I had a better teacher.”

“A better sensei, you mean,” he pressed you about it, earning an eye-roll from you.

“Whatever.”

“Are you gonna keep doing it?”

“What?”

“Are you like enrolling?”

“I don’t know. I’ll think about it.”

“Cool.”

“Why, do you wanna see me that bad?”

He let out a laugh. “Yeah, whatever you say."

[. . .]

A couple weeks had gone by, and you had agreed to go to the movies with Aisha and her friends- well, you guessed now they were your friends too. The two of you were the first to get there, and were standing in line to get popcorn when Hawk and Miguel walked up to you. “I didn’t know you were coming,” Miguel pointed out.

“Do you not have other friends you can talk to?”

“You act like you were forced to be here.”

“I could have been!”

“I don’t think you were.”

You didn’t have a snarky reply to that.

“So sensei was talking to me about putting you in for tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yeah cause you missed on tuesday?”

“Oh right! Stupid project.”

“Yeah. Well apparently he has stuff to do so he asked if I could help you out.”

You laughed in an exaggerated manner. “Oh there’s no way.”

“It was sensei’s idea!” Miguel defended himself.

“And it’s a bad one! No way.”

Aisha turned to you, handing you a huge popcorn for you to hold. She then handed Miguel two cups, and all of you went on your way.

“Look the dojo’s empty at three. You should be there then.” He walked past you and sat down next to Hawk.

[. . .]

“You showed up!”

“Yeah whatever.” You put your backpack down on the floor and took your shoes off, walking into the mat.

“You’re not wearing your gi,” he pointed out just to mess with you.

“You’re not wearing yours.”

“But I’m the sensei today.”

“Yeah you don’t look very sensei-like to me.”

“What would look sensei-like to you?” He got himself in fighting position as he talked, and you made sure to do the same.

“I don’t know. A little buffer, less of a pussy,” you teased him.

“Hey watch your words! We’re serious people in this dojo!” He laughed. “Alright left front kick, right round kick, jab, cross and hook, all of them three times. You ready?”

You tried to make sure you remembered the order correctly. “Is the hook before of after the cross?”

“After.”

“Right, so left front kick, right round kick, jab, cross, hook.”

“Yeah. Now go.” You did it. “Okay good! Is someone… enjoying karate?”

“Shut up.”

He smiled. “Alright I’m gonna block you this time.”

You repeated the sequence. Left front kick, right round kick, jab, cross, hook. Left front kick, right round kick, jab, cross, hook.

Left front kick, right round kick, jab, mat.

Mat?

“That’s not fair you were just gonna block!” You exclaimed after processing the fact that he’d just tackled you to the floor.

“You forgot to keep your guard up.”

“Whatever.” You began standing up.

“What, can’t take it?”

“Is little Miguel Diaz being mean to someone?”

“I’m just pointing out your weaknesses so you can work on them.”

“Because you’re just perfect, aren't you?”

“Do me then.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I-” he closed his eyes shut and pursed his lips together at the poor choice of words. “Do the same thing to me.”

“I don’t know, I’m starting to think you’re like into pain or something.”

“Yeah whatever you say. Come on.”

He did the sequence this time, and you blocked the movements, waiting for the chance to catch him by surprise. You did it while he was going for it the second time around, grabbing him by the wrist and attempting to pull it down, but he was quicker.

Best fighter in the Valley, after all.

In no time you were on the ground again. Fucker.

“I told you! It’s good practice though.” He was laughing at you, and held out his hand for you to take when he noticed you weren’t standing up.

You grinned. “Do you never learn?” You did the same as you'd done that one day at your house, pulling him to the floor next to you.

“Okay that was rude!”

“You practically asked for it!” You laughed like crazy as you stood up. “I can’t believe you fell for that twice!”

“Okay, fine.” He held his hand up again. “You not gonna help me?”

“Nope. I, for one, am not dumb.”

He got up. “Oh you’re gonna regret that.”

[. . .]

"Hey are you- are you doing something right now?" Miguel questioned you as he finshed turning the lights off.

"Not really. Why?"

"Do you... want to?"

"Like right now?"

"I mean I think we could both use a shower first but- later?"

"Why?"

"I'm just bored. You don't have to."

You pondered it. Aisha did have to bail on you to go to dinner with her dad. "Fine."

"What- okay."

You laughed as he finished locking the door of the dojo. "What?"

"Didn’t think you’d say yes."

"I can still change my mind."

"Yeah right. You like hanging out with me!"

"Hey don’t get too confident, I just don’t have anything else to do."

"And I don't believe you. Golf ‘n’ Stuf. In like an hour?"

"I don’t know. I might not show up," you teased.

"Yeah I'll see you there!" He yelled, content, already ahead of you on his bike.

[. . .]

“I knew it.”

You turned around where you stood, only to see Miguel behind you, a grin on his face. “You’re annoying. I’ve told you that before, right?”

“Yeah. Many times.”

“Just checking.”

“So?” Miguel held up his arm for you to lace your own with. As if. You scoffed, walking past him, leaving him to jog after you into the park.

“Okay what first?”

“Oh you’re letting me pick?” He asked you. Okay, you had to give it to him, he wasn’t as insufferable when he matched your sarcastic attitude a little bit. Or maybe he was more insufferable and you just liked to see him not be as nice.

“Yes I’m very polite.”

“Well then we’re doing mini golf.”

“Are you forty-five?”

“This place literally has golf in the name, what did you expect?” He grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you along.

[. . .]

“Okay I don’t think I’ve ever seen as many tickets in my entire life,” Miguel exclaimed, holding up what looked like at least 80 tickets, all bunched up. You studied the excitement on his face. Fine, so maybe you had a little fun. Just a little. And maybe you thought he looked stupidly cute right now.

Maybe.

You walked up to the counter. He looked at your prize options. “So what do you want? We can get like 53 rings or like 72 plastic… babies? Why would anyone want 72 plastic babies?”

You let out a laugh. “I don’t know, I-” you saw it by the corner, almost hidden. It was perfect. “Ohmygod definitely that guy!” You pointed at it, and the woman behind the counter handed it to Miguel.

He held up the plush bumblebee. “He’s cute! What should we name him?”

“Um… Phillip?”

“What no! That’s so not a bee name.”

“What the hell would a bee name be?”

“Zoe?”

“Okay first off that’s so cliche. Second off, he’s a boy!”

“How would you know that?” You’d been walking for a while, and finally got outside, sitting down on a bench.

“I decided it!”

“Okay. What can we name him then?”

“Oh my God, Lucas!”

“Okay, I think I can accept Lucas.”

“You don’t have a say on my son’s name!”

“Hey he’s our son!”

“I don’t know, we’d have to take a DNA test.”

“Shit have you been cheating on me?”

“Yeah I’m sorry…” you tried to match his playfulness.

There was silence for a moment.

“You know this was actually pretty fun.”

“Yeah I was surprised.” You were teasing, but it wasn’t a lie, either.

“So you liked it? Who knew.”

“Oh shut it. It was okay.”

“You totally did!”

“Okay, whatever. Now we need to discuss Lucas’ custody situation. I’m getting dibs on weekends!” You tried to joke, but Miguel’s mind seemed to be wandering off. “Miguel? Hello?” You waved your hand in front of his face.

“Sorry.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah. I just- can I tell you something?”

“Okay.”

“I have a theory. You can say I’m wrong. But you can’t get mad at me about it.”

“Okay I’m getting worried.”

“Promise?”

“Sure.”

“Well I’ve thought about it, and I might be being a little hopeful. But I’m pretty sure you might have a crush on me.”

You laughed in disbelief. Did he really just say that to you? “I’m sorry?”

“It’s just a theory! I want you to! I’m- am I wrong?”

You didn’t reply. Because you didn’t know the answer. Did you- wait. “You want me to?”

“I- mean I don’t want you to feel pressured or anything, but. It would be nice. And I know you still don’t like to talk about that one time we kissed and all but things have been pretty confusing.”

“Because you have a thing for me.”

“Okay, I get it, it's fine if you don’t-”

Maybe it was not exactly the brightest idea to do something so important so suddenly, without sparing a thought before you did. But, when you knew it, your lips were on his.

It was calmer, softer than the first time you’d done it. Miguel was the one to pull away, smiling into the kiss. He stared at you, and you were nervous. You wanted to tell yourself you didn’t know where that came from, like you’d told yourself had happened that day at your place before attempting to bottle it up. But you knew.

You didn’t realize it, but in those weeks you hung out, you got to actually know him. And at some point you must have started liking him. A few weeks was definitely enough to change your perspective on some things.

You assumed he felt the same, considering the things he said.

… but maybe you read him wrong?

“What?” You asked, insecure, when he didn’t say anything.

He grinned. “You totally have a crush on me!”

You let out a breath in relief.

Okay, yeah, maybe Miguel Diaz wasn’t that bad after all. And maybe you could get yourself used to the thought of going out with him.

Maybe.

[. . .]

A/N: edited the fuck outta this one before posting, my ideas were good but my writing was pretty shit at the time. I think I was like 16/17 when I wrote this one. shits crazy. luv yall

[throneofsapphics]

can i req a little drabble with nyx? i imagine nyx to be a bit like feyre but also being on the more broody side. perhaps where reader gets the “meeting the family” dinner with the IC and shes like a ball pf sunshine, complete opposite to nyx?

ambushes and invitations

Nyx x Reader

Summary: Told it's finally time, Nyx takes you to meet his family.

Warnings: none

A/N: thank you for the request! I love grumpy sunshine so much. 

“I’m excited,” you insisted - almost bouncing on your toes as you walked together. 

“You really shouldn’t be,” he grumbled, hand shooting out to grab yours. He pulled you in close - a bit too abruptly, and you stumbled over your feet, a laugh echoing from your chest as you slammed into him, his arm wrapping around your waist to hold you steady. Nyx’s mouth indented at one corner, eyes shining as he glanced down at you. Pausing, he licked his thumb, brushing against your jawline, a tinge of blue appearing on his finger. A spot of paint from earlier. Letting go of your waist, he kept his hold on your hand and your feet carried you down the path, footsteps light on the cobblestone. You’d insisted on walking - giving you time to wrap your mind around what the evening would look like. 

He’d ambushed you at your home, where you were in the middle of trying to paint a gift, and ‘invited’ you to a family dinner. You couldn’t refuse, and the limited timeframe gave you less time for a ball of nerves to build. It wasn’t wholly effective. Truth be told, you were somewhat nervous. His family was intimidating to say the least, but you’d grown up around what you considered were intimidating people, and this was another dinner - at least you told yourself that.

The next time you tripped - a loose rock, not your fault, Nyx covered it - bringing your arm above your head and spinning you.

“Are you nervous?” You asked, as you drew closer to your destination. 

“Me?” His eyes rolled. “Never, darling.” 

Your eyes lit up in amusement. “Never? Because I remember very clearly the one time -” 

A pinch to your side cut off your words, and you realized you were within hearing distance of two winged figures. You’d been distracted looking up at Nyx, and a light blush covered your cheeks. 

“Don’t stop on our accord,” one of the males - Cassian, you recognized, said. 

You grinned. “Once, we were-” 

Nyx’s hand clapped over your mouth, muffling your words. 

Both were friendly, even though you had the keen awareness your every move and expression was being monitored. That’s fine by you, there was nothing you felt the need to hide. 

They all introduced themselves, but you already knew exactly who they were. Rhys, your High Lord insisted you call him Rhys, same with your High Lady. Nyx spoke of them so freely, a few complaints littered here and there, but actually meeting them as his parents was different. Sure, you’d seen both of them in Velaris at one point or another, but this was a completely different context. Maybe in your mind you’d created a different persona for them - Nyx’s parents. Either way, the two versions from your mind had no choice but to meld now. 

“What do you do for work?” Feyre asked. This was a subject you could speak on for ages.

“I’m a teacher, for toddlers.” The spot of glitter on your wrist caught the light at the perfect time. 

“Do you like it?” Her head tilted. 

“I absolutely love it,” you replied and lulled into an easy conversation, some of your nerves fading. 

Back and forth, questions bounced across the table - about nearly every subject, and you fielded all of them the best you could. Nyx seemed to glare at anyone who asked things a bit too personal or touchy. 

-

“How’d someone like you end up with this broody asshole?” His uncle didn’t even wince as Nyx kicked him in the shin. Hopefully hard enough to leave a bruise. 

“That’s what I want to know,” Mor said - glancing between the two of you.

Nyx cut in before you could answer. “Easy, I won her over.” 

“Easy?” You raised your brows, amusement in your eyes. 

“Not exactly.” 

Your eyes seemed to say; good save. 

Gods, he remembers the weeks he spent ‘chasing’ you, and trying to get the point across that he liked you as more than a friend. You were a ball of pure light and joy, bright enough to make him seem like a dark and stormy cloud, and he loved you for it. His little ball of sunshine, although everyone else was stealing your attention right now. 

You’d been seeing each other for a few months when his parents finally put their foot down and insisted on meeting you. Everything was a bit last minute, and he felt a tad guilty for ‘inviting’ you with less than an hour, but it was a casual affair, and you were in good spirits about it - nearly exploding out of your skin the entire way here. 

So far, it seemed to be going well. You were sitting directly next to Mor, and the two of you were making easy conversation. 

Cassian caught his eye, an amused look on his face. 

What is it? Nyx slipped into his mind. 

She’s nice. Talkative. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Seems like she’s good for you. 

Nyx brought himself back into the present, aware of your conversation starting to dwindle next to him. He found you looking at him with a curious expression, but a tinge of worry in your eyes, grabbing your hand under the table, he gave you what he hoped was a reassuring squeeze. 

“Do you have any Solstice plans?” His mother asked, a gleam in her eyes. That’s all it took for him to know she was absolutely smitten with you, but he still fought a wince at her direct question - he knew you didn’t, and if this went well he’d already planned on inviting you.  

“I don’t,” your words were softer than normal - maybe a bit unsure. Nyx squeezed your hand again, hoping he wasn’t crushing your fingers. 

“Perfect,” she clapped her hands together. “Join us.” 

“If you want to,” he added, meeting your eyes. 

Really? 

She wouldn’t have offered otherwise. 

The mental equivalent of an eye roll came through before you beamed at her and agreed. 

-

Nyx flew you home, refusing to let you walk on your own and in the dark. You chose not to argue with him this time. Besides, you liked seeing the city from above, all of the glittering lights, and especially in his arms. 

“You,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead, closing your door behind him with his foot.

“Me?” 

One arm wrapped around your waist, tugging you in close. “You are wonderful.” 

Your words were muffled, face pressed against him, “where’s this coming from?” 

He loosened his arms just enough for you to look up at him. “You survived them.” 

Lips turning up at the corners, you poked his chest. “Survived?” 

“You know what I mean,” he sighed.

“Sure,” you tucked yourself back into him. 

“First, I would love to have you there,” he prefaced, hand running down your hair - and your heart jumped. “But you don’t have to come to Solstice if you don’t want to, or if it’s too soon.” 

“That might be the most words I’ve heard you say in a row.” 

He pinched your side before continuing, “I know she put you on the spot.” 

You slid one hand up to rest on his chest - just above his thundering heart. “I would love,” you repeated his words, “to be there.” 

“Thank the gods,” he breathed, pulling you close again.

[dearly-somber]

It’s An Affectionate Thing | j.jk

-> pairing. wolf shifter!jungkook x human!reader (f)

-> genre. fluff, f2l (friends-to-lovers), pining, unrequited love, eventual romance

-> w/c. 2183

-> rating. 13+

-> a/n. this one was an excuse to write biting because 🤭

-> warnings. N/A

-> collection. mini-series

-> started. Jun. 30th, 2022 @ 18:21

-> fin. Jun. 30th, 2022 @ 22:23

-> edited. Jul. 5th, 2022 @ 00:46

-> divider credit. @mmadeinheavenn

Jungkook is… weird, to say the least.

He just randomly came up to you in class one day, sat his ass down on the edge of your desk, and started talking to you like it was a normal, everyday routine. Which it was not.

As you got to know him, he only got weirder.

If not for his clinginess (which was admittedly strange considering you’d never met a guy so touchy with a girl who wasn’t his girlfriend), you’d say his strange habit of rubbing his head against you was probably one of his weirder characteristics.

And it wasn’t even in a creepy If-you-don’t-get-away-from-me-immediately-I’m-going-to-call-the-cops kinda way, but more so a confused, what-the-fuck-are-you-doing kinda way. He’d hug you and not so subtly rub his cheek against yours, or he’d hold your hand and make up some dumb excuse to nose your wrist (he kept insisting that you were wearing perfume when he knew you didn’t).

One time—while hugging you—he pressed his face into your neck and just… inhaled. He hasn’t done it again after you unceremoniously shoved his face away with a warning not to do it again unless he wanted to keep both his eyes, but it was beyond weird and (dare I say) creepy (at the time)

He also quite literally growled at one of your classmates when he was being a misogynistic, sexist piece of shit and wouldn’t leave you alone. And sometimes, when he’s being a brat and moaning about how you pull away too quickly after giving him a hug, he whines. Like, back of his throat, puppy-begging-for-food kind of whine.

This in of itself would be somewhat bearable, if not for his friends. They were equally as weird, if not weirder.

There were eleven of them total, seven guys and four girls—all living in the same house near the edge of town. And despite already having such a large group, they were completely unwelcoming of outsiders, too tight-knit to allow others into their ranks. People had suspected that they were in a polyamorous relationship, or that it was some weird sex cult. They hadn’t ever specifically said that they were dating amongst themselves, and being the secretive group they were, they didn’t bother acknowledging nor denying any of the crazy school rumors.

You didn’t wanna bring the rumors up with Jungkook and make him uncomfortable, so instead you chose to ignore them and pretend they weren’t there. Jungkook tried to introduce you once, but you’d seen the way they looked at you—how they glared when you walked into the cafeteria with Jungkook glued to your hip. You’d come to the nifty conclusion that they did not like you, and as much as you wanted to make Jungkook happy by letting him introduce you to his inner circle, you didn’t wanna crush his little heart by being immediately rejected.

Coming up with excuses to avoid them was hard, but if they were anything like their youngest, it was probably for the best if you kept your distance, anyway.

How you wished you’d been able to stay away for longer.

“Jungkook, I really don’t wanna go to your house.”

“But we have to go somewhere, and you already told me that your parents don’t like me.” He whines, his big bambi eyes and pouty lips making you internally groan.

“That’s because they think you’re too clingy.” You state matter of factly, deadpanning your gaze to his arm, tightly wrapped around yours.

Grinning sheepishly, he tugs you in the direction of his housemates. “C’mon, it’ll be fun!” They walk a few meters ahead of you, shoving and pushing each other while talking, rowdy laughter echoing behind them. Your heart aches for a moment, watching them enviously. They look close…

“Are we gonna be able to get anything done? There’s like. Twelve of you in one house, thirteen plus myself.” You watch them retreat further and further ahead of you, your and Jungkook’s feet dragging as you fall behind. “They don’t exactly seem like the quiet type…”

Jungkook frowns at the (hopefully) unintentional dig, clearing his throat and hesitantly intertwining your hands. When you don’t pull away, he continues. “Just give them a chance. I know the rumors are weird, but they couldn’t be farther from the truth. I promise you you’ll like them once you get to know them,” he pleads, giving you his best puppy eyes. “Please?”

You sigh, nodding concededly and reluctantly letting him pull you along. “Okay. Can we at least do the assignment somewhere private? I don’t really think your friends—”

“Family.”

The correction throws you off guard, and you stare at him. Your voice betrays you, eyes soft. “Right, your family. I don’t… I don’t think they like me very much.”

He tsks. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. But,” he turns to you and boops your nose playfully. “If it really makes you feel better, we can do the project in my room.”

His room? Why his room? Why not outside, or in the kitchen, or anywhere else but his room?

You squint your eyes at him suspiciously. “What are you planning, Jungkook?”

He grins mischievously, batting his eyelashes in an effort to make himself look more innocent than you know he is. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

You scoff. “Pervert.”

Jungkook giggles in response, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and leaning into you while not so subtly sniffing your hair.

…Brat.

Jungkook drags you upstairs to his room before any of his housemates can snatch you away from him, not bothering to listen to their rowdy complaints. He knows that they’ll overwhelm you the second they get their claws on you, and he’d preferably not scare you away just when you’re getting more comfortable around him.

He practically throws you onto his bed, followed directly by his overexcited body knocking the breath out of you. Jungkook huffs weirdly before pressing his forehead against your shoulder, hands laying curled up into your sides. Groaning, your hands shoot out to his shoulders, trying to push him off. “Can’t— can’t breathe—“

“Sorry,” he sheepishly grins, pushing himself up by his hands to look down at you with his hair flopping over his head. You catch your breath, feeling the immense relief at not having his full weight on top of you, too preoccupied to notice the compromising position you’re in—him hovering over you with his knees slotted on either side of your waist. Jungkook looks concerned when he asks, “Can you breathe yet?”

“Yeah… yeah, I can breathe. Can you uh,” your cheeks burn and you avoid meeting his eyes, your hands sliding from his shoulders. “Can you get off, please?”

“Oh, I— sorry, I’m sorry.” He gets off of you faster than you expected him to, sitting cross legged on the opposite side of the bed to give you some space. You copy him, staring at one another awkwardly. It’s your first time being in his house, let alone his room, and your heart stutters when you realize he closed the door behind you on your way in. Just great. You look at him, biting the inside of your lip. Jungkook has proven to be a very sweet boy, but he is still a boy—and you are a girl. Alone. In his bedroom.

You don’t want him getting the wrong idea.

“Listen, Kook…” He perks up, listening to you attentively. Taking an encouraging breath, you continue. “I hope you didn’t choose your room for ulterior motives, because I came here for school. I’m not going to have sex with you—“

Jungkook’s whole face turns red, frantically shaking his hands in front of you. “No no no! No, I’d never—I don’t, I don’t see you that way, I promise!” He rambles, scooting away from you in an effort to convince you that that’s not why he chose this location. Grinning stupidly, you reach over and pat his knee.

“Okay, okay, I believe you. Relax.” He pouts, crossing his arms over his chest and sulking. He just wanted to make you feel more comfortable… he didn’t think you’d take it the wrong way. Rolling your eyes at the cute pout on his lips, you ruffle his hair playfully. “Let’s get started, hm?”

You turn your back to him so that you can reach into your bag and grab your things, rifling through the books inside to look for your laptop. What you don’t notice is the weight of Jungkook’s eyes on your back—watching you and admiring the annoyed pout on your lips with a soft smile.

“Found it! So,” you cross your legs and situate the keyboard in your lap. “What do you wanna start with first? I was thinking we could start with, uhm…” Your voice dies in the back of your throat when you catch sight of Jungkook’s dazed, strangely affectionate half-smile. You clear your throat, cheeks heating up because why the fuck is he looking at you like you’ve hung the stars?

“Uhm… Jungkook?”

“Right, sorry,” he shakes his head as if to bring himself back to reality. “Why don’t we start with research first?” He’s hesitant, and you feel bad. He must think you’re going to say no.

“Sounds good. My screen is pretty small, though.” You bite your lip, thinking about how you could share the screen in a way that he wouldn’t hurt his neck.

“Uhm. I—I have… can you scoot a bit closer to the headboard?”

You look at him questioningly but give in to his hopeful puppy eyes. Sighing, you scoot back until he places a gentle hand on your knee to halt your movements. You try and look at his face but he looks down so that it’s hidden by his hair. “Jungkook?” You whisper, hesitant to increase your volume.

Jungkook either doesn’t hear you or he ignores you, clambering toward you distractedly and shifting in behind you. You suck in a breath, the hair on your arms raising. He slots his legs on either side of you, pulling you to his chest by your waist and hesitantly resting his chin on your shoulder. The closeness freezes you to the spot, and you swear you can feel him eyeing the side of your face for a reaction.

You exhale through your teeth and will yourself to relax in his arms despite your racing heart. Unbeknownst to you, Jungkook smiles, locking his hands around your waist and inhaling your scent as subtly as possible. You ignore him and clear your throat. “Shall we start with origin?” You whisper, unable to raise your voice due to the suffocating closeness, cheeks red and heart beating ten times too quickly.

Jungkook hums next to your ear. If he notices your racing heartbeat, he doesn’t comment on it.

Y/N yawns tiredly, apologizing in a half-asleep voice.

“Just take a break,” Jungkook pleads, trying to move her arms out of the way and biting back a growl of frustration when she swats his hands away from the screen.

“I’m fine.”

“You can barely keep your eyes open!” He reasons, pulling away to look at the back of her head. Stupid, stubborn girl. “Come on, Y/N. We’ve been working on this for hours. Let’s just take a quick break. Please?”

“We’re so close to finishing…” She sounds dejected, another yawn leaving her lips. Jungkook frowns at her, trying to figure out how to get her to put away her stupid computer and just take a nap, for gods sake. Knowing that this is the only course of action that’ll direct her attention to something other than this stupid class assignment, he determinedly leans forward.

You yelp in surprise, turning to Jungkook with wide eyes. Did he just—

“Did you just fucking bite me?” Your voice is filled with newfound life and energy, jaw hanging as you look down at your shoulder. Looking at him, you find no remorse in those chocolate brown eyes… only a smug, satisfied expression.

“Yes.” He laughs at the horror on your face, shaking his head as if he knows something you don’t. “It’s an affectionate thing, I promise.”

“How is you biting me an ‘affectionate thing’?” You hiss, watching as he shakes his head, hair flopping around his face cutely.

“It just is,” he shrugs. You squint suspiciously, setting the laptop down next to you while silently planning his demise.

Jungkook eyes you warily and yells when you punch his arm, rubbing the spot furiously. “What was that for!”

“Would you rather I bite you back?” You snap threateningly, sitting on your knees to look down at him. Jungkook’s eyes widen at the threat, his cheeks and the top of his ears going beet red. You grin to yourself evilly, crawling towards him. Your eyes squint in a silent threat, prowling like a bloodthirsty animal. “Just wait until I sink my teeth into you… c’mere!”

Jungkook yelps, jumping up from the bed and running away from you while incoherently yelling that no, only he’s allowed to bite you.

“Why?”

“I— I can’t tell you!”

“Guess I’m gonna bite you, then—“

“—Y/N NO!”

<- prev | next ->

[finemealcreates]

Hell of a Meeting, Huh?

July 20: Attending a funeral | aid

Danny wishes it was raining. He wishes the weather was foul, that there was an overcast, something to reflect the way he was feeling inside. 

But it wasn’t. It was a nice day out. Not too cloudy, not too cold, just right. 

An awful day for such nice weather. 

Vlad has been trying to get close to Danny the entire funeral, but he’s been dodging the other man. Danny had very publicly stated that he didn’t want anything to do with Vlad, and he wasn’t his dad. That Vlad was barely his family’s friends, and he’d die before he had anything to do with the man. 

It had mostly forced Vlad to keep his distance. This was the man’s chance to casually get close to Danny and make it seem like an accident. 

Except for the fact that Danny was overly aware of Vlad’s closeness to him. He kept moving, except when neither of them could, further and further away from the other man. No one cared, they knew it was a day of mourning for the boy. He had lost everything. 

Sam, Tucker, Jazz, his parents. All of them, gone. 

What is Danny going to do, now? They’re not going to force him to live with Vlad, will they? He saw what happens when he lives with Vlad, it doesn’t go well for anyone. 

No, he’d die before he lived with Vlad. He won’t allow that future to exist. 

The social worker had allowed Danny to stay with the Foley’s, too overworked to fight Danny when he sobbed when removed from them. The Foley’s hadn’t minded, as far as Danny could tell. They clung to him as tightly as he clung to them. 

All of them had lost someone. Even the Manson’s had been kind to Danny. Well, Bubba was always kind to Danny, but Sam’s parents hadn’t always been. Yet, earlier that day they had hugged Danny. Cried with him. Thanked Danny for being such a great friend to their Sammy. 

Grief will do a lot to a person, even lead you to hug a kid you used to hate apparently. 

Maybe the Foley’s would be willing to take Danny in? It’s not what Danny wants, he doesn’t think he can stomach moving into his best friend’s old room, but anything is better than Vlad. Perhaps he can argue with a judge to be placed with someone not Vlad. He’s fourteen, they might listen to him, right? 

Who is he kidding, Vlad’s got more resources than Danny does. If Vlad has to, he’ll overshadow the judge to get what he wants. 

Oh no, what is Danny going to do? 

A person gently taps Danny on the shoulder, causing him to turn. 

There stands a blonde-haired man with cool blue eyes. He looks tired, and he’s got a … weird sort of energy about him. Not bad, just … different. 

Danny raises an eyebrow, too tired to speak to a stranger offering condolences. 

He’s tired of people apologizing to him. As if they understand. No one understands. Not even the Foley’s or the Manson’s. They lost their children, Danny lost everyone. 

“You’re Danny Fenton, correct?” the man asks, offering a hesitant smile he probably intends to be inviting. 

“Obviously,” Danny snarks, glaring at the man. 

“Sorry,” the stranger says, scratching the back of his head. “I just uhh … I didn’t want to do this here but the state insisted.” 

Danny narrows his eyes at the man. What is he prattling on about? 

“I got a call late last night, and didn’t hear the voice message until this morning. I’m Barry Allen, you’re dad’s second cousin?” 

Danny feels his eyes water at the mention of his dad. 

“I’ve never heard of you before,” Danny states suspiciously. 

“Sorry about that,” Barry apologizes sincerely. “Our grandparents didn’t get along, so we weren’t really close. I’m surprised I was even in the will at all—”

“You’re in my parents' will?” Danny interrupts, surprised. 

Barry laughs slightly, offering a small smile. 

“I’m just as shocked as you are, trust me,” Barry says. 

“So that makes us, what, third cousins?” Danny questions. 

Barry scratches his head, humming as he appears to contemplate it. 

“I think we’re technically second cousins once removed?” the man says distantly. “Anyway, the point is I’m your new guardian.” 

“Guardian, huh?” Danny questions, eyes moving to Vlad who has gotten a lot closer than he would’ve liked. “Anyone’s better than Vlad Masters.” 

Barry’s face scrunches. 

“Vlad Masters? The Wisconsin billionaire?” Barry questions. 

“Yeah,” Danny answers, making sure to keep conscious of Vlad moving closer to them. “He is … was obsessed with my mom. A friend my parents went to college with. He’s really creepy, been trying to adopt me since I met him months ago.” 

Barry’s face twists in disgust. 

“Don’t worry, Danny, I’m not gonna let that man do anything to you. I’ve already filled out all the paperwork,” Barry assures. 

“But he has more resources than you do, surely,” Danny replies. 

He’s not trying to be insulting, just realistic. Vlad will fight it. He’ll insist he should be Danny’s guardian. He’ll throw money around if he has to, and use overshadowing to get what he wants when money doesn’t work. 

“Well, he’s not the only one with friends in high places,” Barry assures, giving Danny a sharp grin. 

Danny’s not sure he can allow himself to hope for the best, not when he’s seen the future. Not when he’s seen what Vlad has done to get what he wants, before. But he musters up part of a smile for Barry.

“I hope you win, cousin Barry,” Danny says, just as Vlad approaches. 

“Daniel! So sorry, didn’t see you there,” Vlad says, putting on a show for folks around him. 

Barry moves and places himself partly between the two of them, back to Danny. 

“Nice to meet you, I’m Barry Allen,” Barry introduces, stopping Vlad from talking to Danny. 

Vlad eyes the other man, glaring slightly at being interrupted. 

Yet, Vlad is aware that eyes are on them. Vlad had made it so. Therefore, he’s unable to refuse shaking the other man’s hand and offering a smile. 

“Vlad Masters.” 

Barry hums, dropping the other man’s hand. 

“I don’t think Maddie ever mentioned you before,” Barry comments, purposefully. 

Vlad glares, eyes tinged red for a second. Danny just feels a wave of grief hit him at the mention of his mother. 

“I didn’t realize you were acquainted with the deceased,” Vlad says shortly. 

“Well of course I am,” Barry replies smoothly. “We’re family, after all.” 

Vlad’s eyes find Danny’s, narrowing slightly. 

“Oh?” Vlad’s voice is sharp, dangerous. “How so?” 

Danny can’t help but hide more behind Barry. He’s not afraid of Vlad, but he doesn’t like the look in the man’s eyes. He doesn’t like what that look means. He doesn’t like looking into Vlad’s eyes and seeing Dan. 

“Cousins,” Barry answers, keeping it short and to the point. “Was just talking to Danny about what we need to do to get him moved to my place.” 

“Daniel’s moving in with you?” Vlad seems to grit out. “How interesting, I think you may be mistaken. You see—” 

“Nope!” Barry interrupts. “Got the paperwork all figured out this morning. It’s already a done deal.” 

Danny can practically feel Vlad’s glare on him through Barry. 

“Interesting,” Vlad says. “Very interesting. Well it was nice to meet you Barry, talk to you later Daniel. Sorry for your loss.” 

Then Vlad is gone, and Danny feels himself relax. 

“You weren’t kidding, kid. That dude gives me the hibbie-jibbies,” Barry comments, turning towards Danny. 

 “He’s going to fight it, somehow. Then I’m going to be forced to live with him,” Danny states plainly. 

Barry’s eyes soften as he squats to be more eye level with Danny, resting a hand on his shoulders. 

“Let me worry about all the legal stuff, you just focus on mourning, okay?” 

Danny nods, eyes filling with tears. 

Barry pulls Danny in for a hug, and Danny can almost let himself believe that everything’s gonna turn out okay.

[bkgsbratt]

Sweet Like Candy

Warnings: cursing, light smut, probably mischaracterization (If I’m missing any warnings please tell me!🫶)

Background: Bakugo hated sweet things, he thought they were a gateway to give people diabetes. So it wasn’t weird for his class to see him not even eat more than half a slice of his own birthday cake. It’s not like he hated sugar, he just didn’t like the gross aftertaste in his mouth, the way his hands get all sticky depending on what he’s eating (fuckin neat freak), the aching in his stomach that could come if he ate too much, what idiot would put themselves through that much torture just for 5 seconds of deliciousness? You. You would. So when Class 1-A decided to visit a sweet shop to celebrate a big rescue, best believe he grumbled about the suggestion until he arrived and saw- you.

After their latest mission, Class 1-A decided to celebrate, and someone suggested a sweets shop. Bakugo’s reaction was immediate and definitely wasn’t sweet.

“A damn candy store?” he grumbled, arms crossed, glaring at everyone like they’d betrayed him. “We just kicked ass, and you wanna celebrate with a sugar high?”

“Oh, come on, Bakugo!” Mina insisted, practically dragging him along despite his protests. “It’ll be fun! This place has everything—chocolates, pastries, even dark chocolate. You might like something!”

With a scowl, he stepped into The Sugar Nest. Pastel pinks and blues covered the walls, fairy lights twinkling around the room. The warm scent of baked goods filled the air, and Bakugo looked like he’d just entered his worst nightmare.

And then he noticed you. You were behind the counter, handing a cupcake to a kid who immediately took a big bite, grinning as frosting smudged his nose. When you looked up at the group, you greeted everyone with a bright smile. Class 1-A stampeded toward the displays, but Bakugo kept his distance, arms crossed, shooting death glares at the cakes and cookies.

You noticed his sour expression and couldn’t help but tease. “Not a fan of sweets?”

Bakugo scoffed. “Hell no. I don’t eat sugar-coated crap,” he muttered, practically daring you to argue.

You didn’t back down. Instead, you leaned on the counter, smirking. “Maybe you’ve just never had the right kind.” You reached into the display and picked out a small square of dark chocolate with sea salt. “Here. Dark chocolate—no sticky fingers, no sugar overload. Just the good stuff.”

He looked at you like you’d just handed him a grenade. But he took the chocolate, biting into it like he wanted to hate it. Only he didn’t. The bitterness and salt were perfectly balanced, with no sugary aftertaste.

“It’s… fine,” he muttered, chewing slowly.

“See?” you teased. “Not all sweets are just sugar bombs.”

From that day on, Bakugo told himself he was only at the shop to “keep the idiots in check.” But every time Class 1-A ended up at The Sugar Nest, he somehow found himself in front of the counter, accepting whatever dark chocolate creation you’d saved for him. Then, one day, he came in alone. You noticed him walking in, arms crossed, pretending it was a coincidence.

“Back again, huh?” you greeted him, a small grin on your face.

He shrugged, attempting his usual scowl. “Nothing better to do,” he muttered.

You handed him a dark chocolate truffle dusted with smoky sea salt. He took a bite, his eyes narrowing slightly as he savored the intense, smoky flavor.

“So, do you really hate sweets, or do you just hate everything on principle?” you teased, resting your elbows on the counter.

“Most sweets suck,” he replied immediately, then shrugged. “Not all of ‘em.”

You raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Guess that’s as close to a compliment as I’ll get.”

He rolled his eyes, but you saw a flicker of a smile, which felt like a victory.

In the weeks that followed, Bakugo kept showing up, sometimes with his classmates, sometimes on his own. Each time, he’d lean on the counter, muttering about whatever new treat you handed him. You fell into a routine, chatting about anything and everything, and he started bringing things for you, too—a rare spice he thought you’d like, an herb he’d grown, even a small cactus he’d claimed was “just in the way.” He’d hand them over with a gruff “figure you’d know what to do with this,” and each time, your face lit up, and he seemed secretly pleased.

One afternoon, he stayed after the shop had closed, leaning on the counter as you finished cleaning up.

“What?” you asked, noticing his intense gaze.

He shrugged. “Didn’t know you’d be workin’ this late.”

“Well, I own the place. Sometimes, I’m here all night,” you replied, glancing at him. “Why? You sticking around for something?”

He paused, his usual glare softening. “Maybe,” he muttered, looking away, and you felt your cheeks heat up.

Gathering your courage, you handed him a last treat—a dark chocolate infused with chili. As he bit into it, his eyes widened, the smoky heat mingling with the bitter chocolate. “Damn,” he muttered. “Didn’t think I’d like this.”

“Oh?” you teased, stepping closer. “So you don’t hate all sweets after all?”

He looked at you, his cheeks tinged with pink. His hand brushed against yours almost unconsciously. “Yeah, well,” he muttered, “you’re the only sweet thing I’ll ever want to taste,” his voice dropping as his gaze fixed on you.

Your heart skipped as he leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was unexpectedly soft, his rough exterior melting as his hand found your waist. You could taste the chili chocolate on his lips, and you smiled, feeling his grip tighten.

When he pulled back, he smirked, his eyes glinting. “Don’t get used to it,” he muttered, though the way he lingered, his hand still holding yours, told you everything you needed to know.

You smiled, whispering, “Guess you don’t hate all sweets after all.”

[myladysapphire]

My Lady Strong (II)

Aemond had always been protective of his neice, obssessed even, insiting on keeping her sheltered, and purley his, he never let her stray far and following the incident at Driftmark, Aemma was rarley without Aemond as her shadow. How will the kind, sheltered girl fair in the dance of dragons?

word count: 1,911

CW: violence

Fem!oc x Aemond Targeryen ( can be read as x reader)

Masterlist | series masterlist | previous part | next part

disclamer:  i do not own any of claim any of the A song of ice and  fire characters, all rights belong to GRR MARTIN, all characters are his except for my OC

A/N thank you soo much for all the likes on the last post, I hope you all enjoy this one!

laughter filled the Godswood as Aemond chased after Aemma, circling the weirwood tree.

Their friendship was admired around the keep, the girl adored by all. Somehow keeping her sweet nature following her brother’s ‘prank’, though she had become timid, often hiding behind Aemond, and never letting go of his hand.

Aemond adored this, he wanted her to be utterly dependent on him, and she was. She listened to what Aemond said, often refused to do something if Aemond did want her to or was unable to come.

It was why her mother considered a match between them following the birth of her newest brother, Joffrey. Aemond had already demanded he one day become her sworn sword once he had completed his training, and she doubted he would accept Aemma’s marriage to anyone but himself.

“Aemma!” he ran up to her, picking her up and spinning around before they fell to the ground in a fit of giggles.

He sighed, turning to his side “My father wishes for me to start attending dragon lessons”.

“Then I shall come also” Aemma declared, grabbing his hand, “then once we have learned we shall claim a dragon together!”

“But Aegon and your brothers will be there” Aemond spoke, trying to deter her.

“so, you don’t want me to come?” she pouted

“of course, but… they’ll be there… and they are nothing but cruel” he insisted “ I do not want them to torment both you and me over having no dragon”.

“But we are Targaryens, so what if we do not have a dragon… we are dragons!” she laughed, “please Aemond, I could not bear to part from you”.

“It will only be for a few hours”

“And what am I to do?” she got up “Wait and sew? No, I shall come!” she demanded

All Aemond could do is sigh in defeat. Though he really he wasn’t sad about it, it was not like he wanted to part from her either.

Her brothers hadn’t expected her to show up. Much to their disappointment, she had kept her distance from her brothers and Aegon for the past year. Truth be told they did not expect the prank to become what it was, to make Aemma cling to Aemond more and more. 

At dinners, she sat between their mother and father, eating as fast as possible, and on the odd occasion their grandsire called for a family dinner she would place herself between Aemond and Helaena. not uttering a word to her brothers or Aegon, running away when they were near.

And yet today she showed up, hand in hand with Aemond.

When they had heard Aemond was to start attending lessons in the dragon pit, Aegon had come up with the idea, the prank. And Jace and Luke being the jealous brothers they were more than happy to pull it.

All three of the boys regretted their prank on her and had made efforts to reconcile, all failing, miserably. And this prank would become not just a prank on Aemond, but a prank on her also seeing as her Aemond were an extension of one another, much like a dragon and its rider. what one felt, the other did too. They could almost read each other’s minds, always knowing what the other was thinking or saying.

“Aemond, we have  a surprise for you.” Aegon announced, as Jace finished with Vermax.

“Do you have one for me too?” she asked, shyly.

Aegon’s eyes softened, it was the first time she had spoken to him in gods know how long and though he would not and admit it , Aegon had grown a soft spot for the brown-haired girl. “No Aemma, but I’m sure you and Aemond could share” the last part caused Luke to giggle before running of to fetch whatever the surprise was.

“What is it?” Aemond asked, grabbing Aemma’s hand tighter and pulling her into him as Aegon wrapped his arms around his shoulders.

“Something very special” he winked.

“you two are the only ones without a dragon”. 

“indeed” Aemond nodded.

“And we felt bad about it, so… we found you one, Aemond” Aegon announced.

“Found one? Where?” Aemma asked, excited for Aemond, they had always agreed to share a dragon, should one manage to claim one.

“The gods provided” Aegon stated simply, before Jace and Luke came running forward, a rope in hand…. and a pig attached to it.

“Behold…the pink dread!” they announced, as Aemond and Aemma’s face fell.

"Be sure to mount her carefully, the first flights are always rough" they laughed.

Aemond ran off, Aemma was quick to follow.

“The prince Aemond and princess Aemma” a kings guard announced dragging them into queen Alicent  chambers. 

“Aemond, Aemma?” the  queen questioned. “What did you do?”

“they did it again” Helena spoke.

“After how many times you've been warned, must I have you two confined to your chambers?

“They made me do it” Aemond insisted 

“as if you needed the encouragement” Alicent shakes her head “Your obsession with those beasts goes beyond understanding.”

“they gave him a pig” Aemma shouted, seeing Aemonds frustration 

“A what?” 

“They said they found a dragon for me… But it was a pig.” he looked down “they said we could share it”. 

“You will have a dragon one day., both off you” Alicent reassured. 

“He'll have to close an eye.” Helaena whispered lowly. 

“I know it”.

“They all laughed��� they even made a tail and wings for it!”

Only Aegon received punishment from the prank, her brothers were let off her mother and grandsire deeming it childish fun and teasing, much to Aemma’s disappointment .

She returned to the cold shoulder, refusing to even acknowledge their presence, not that she did that much before.

The rift between the two families grew even further, rivalry between the mothers spreading towards the children. This time not for the throne, but for Aemma.

Aemond was always with her, the only time they did have with Aemond alone, was their swordsman lessons. Lessons which Aemond had begun to take his lessons with Ser Cole seriously, taking on the role of being Aemma’s defender and protector.

“Keep your feet light and your hands heavy.” Criston ordered.

Aemma stood above the training yard, watching beside her grandsire and the hand.

“This is the stuff, Lyonel…. Lads that learn together, train together... knock each other down, pick each other up. They will certainly form a lifelong bond, wouldn't you agree?” her grandsire spoke, a proud gleam in his voice.

“That is the hope, Your Grace.” Lynol strong agreed, “should the princess be witnessing this, your grace?” he questioned, looking towards her. She had brought a book to read Viserys, though she doubted she could sway his attention away from his sons and grandsons.

“I wish to watch Aemond, lord strong, he had wished to show me his progress” she announced, looking down proudly at Aemond as he swung his sword at the strawman.

“Ahh, let her stay, it is rare I get to see her without her shadow as is” Viserys laughed.

“of course, your grace”

“I've won my first bout, Ser Criston.” She heard Aegon gloat. “My opponent sues for mercy.”

“You'll have a new opponent then, my Lord of the Straw.” Cole spoke “Let's see if you can touch me… You and your brother” he nodded to Aemond.

“Weapons up, boys… Give your enemies no quarter” he spoke, focusing all his attentions on her uncles, as her brothers stood to the side, before greeting Ser Harwin.

“It seems the younger boys could do better with a bit of your attention, Ser Criston” Harwin spoke.

“You question my method of instruction, ser?”

“Oh, I merely suggest that method be applied to all your pupils.”

“Very well.” Ser Criston sneered “Jacaerys, come here…You spar with Aegon…Eldest son against eldest son”

Harwin scoffed “It's hardly a fair match.”

“I know you've never seen true battle, ser, but when steel is drawn, a fair match isn't something anyone should expect.” Cole snarked “Blades up… Engage.”

“grandsire” Aemma mumbled “it’s hardly fair”.

“oh, its just boys being boys Aemma” he dismissed, focusing on the yard once more.

She averted her eyes, focusing back on her book. Lynol strong too focused on her, his eyes watching her, assessing her. His gaze was soft, but he looked at he as if he knew something she didn’t.

“Lord Strong?” she spoke “would you like to read with me?” she asked, flinching at the sound of metal clashing.

“of course, princess” he nodded, a small smile on his lips.

“You dare put hands on me?” she hears Aegon scream, capturing her and Lynol attention.

“You forget yourself, Strong.” She hears Cole spit out “That is the Prince.

“This is what you teach, Cole? Cruelty... to the weaker opponent?” Harwin scoffed

“Your interest in the princeling's training is quite unusual, Commander” he snarked back, moving in closer saying something she could not hear. Though it must not of been pleasant judging by the punch Harwin landed on her face.

“Stop!” she screamed, flinching away and burying her face in her hands.

“Stop this!” her grandsire repeated, as guards dragged Harwin away from Coles laughing bloody face.

After that everything changed.

Her mother grew desperate, having ser Harwin sent to Harrenhal. He was close to their family and his departure seemed to deeply upset her mother and Jace. she was not too bothered, her mother’s attention now lied in the new babe, Joffrey, and council meetings. She was looking for more and more support, Harwin outburst, and marriage offers seemed to be the best way to secure them.

“I wish to speak. Be seated.” Her mother spoke up, as the small council meeting was pulled to a close “I have felt the... strife... between our families of late, my queen.” She spoke to Alicent “And for any offense given by mine, I apologize. But we are one house. And long before that, we were friends.” Alicent nodded. “My daughter Aemma will inherit Dragonstone after me, I propose a marriage between Aemma and your son, Aemond, the pair are already attached at the hip, let them be the glue that once binds our two families. Ally ourselves... once and for all, let them rule Dragonstone together”

“A most judicious proposition.” Viserys agreed, smiling.

“Additionally, if Syrax brings forth another clutch of eggs, both Aemond and Aemma will have their choice of them, uh... a symbol of our goodwill.”

Alicent nodded, considering. “Rhaenyra” she sighed, looking down. She wanted time to think.

“Oh, Seven Hells. Um...”

“My dear... a dragon's egg is a handsome gift.” Viserys spoke to Alicent.

“The King and I thank you for your offer and we will consider it duly.” She nodded, dismissingly “You must rest now, husband.”

“Yes.”

“The proposal is a good one, my queen. We're a family. Let us put aside these childish quarrels. Join hands and be stronger for it.” Viserys spoke, as they made the way to his chambers.

“yes, Aemond and Aemma shall be pleased” she nodded, “but she is desperate” she sneered “She feels the earth washing away beneath her feet and now she expects us to ignore her transgressions and for me to marry my son to her...” she hesitated, “only daughter”

“Alicent” he sighed, “we agree, on the betrothal?”

“yes” she sighed, keep her beloved daughter in her grasps and she shall have Rhaenyra eating out the palm of her hand.

next part

Taglist (bold wouldn't let me tag)

my lady strong: @aemondssuit @idonotknowenglish @sydneyyyy18 @wondergal2001 @whitejuliana1204 @meowtastick @bellaisasleep @tinykryptonitewerewolf @sarahkimtae @winchesterfamiliebusiness @iiamthehybrid @zzz000eee @spookydaddy01 @melllinaa @ateliefloresdaprimavera @dreamingofyourmoons @aleemendoza2425-blog

HOTD: @targaryenmoony

Aemond: @blossomedflowerofluv @violet-potter

[threalcrabbysamantha]

Only when the tears spilled down his cheeks in earnest did she reach out her hand to caress his face. The few times she’d dared to touch him since he’d joined the group - since their reconciliation, really - his breath had grown shallow, his movements stilling. She hadn’t asked, even though the question lingered constantly on the tip of her tongue, but he clearly wasn’t used to as much touching as the rest of them were, herself and Sokka especially.

But Katara knew well enough that touch was the best cure for these kind of tears.

Pressed against his skin, her hand warmed pleasantly, and a buzz of satisfaction rippled through Katara’s chest at the sensation, like her hand had finally found its rightful place in the universe. She brushed her thumb along his jaw even as she pushed the feeling firmly back to the corner of her mind where she allowed herself to entertainment such things.

Zuko himself leaned into her hand briefly, then tensed, his spine snapping to a straight line. Opening his eyes, he wiped the tears on his sleeve and leaned away, however slightly.

“Sorry,” he said, his voice rough. “I - sorry.”

Her hand fell to her lap where she tangled it into the skirt of her tunic, trying to satisfy the missing sensation of his warmth. “It’s okay,” she said softly. “It’s okay for you to cry.”

Zuko’s whole face twisted into a scowl, his scarred eye disappearing entirely in the expression. “Not in front of you,” he insisted.

Katara blinked, her hand stilling in her lap. “Oh,” she said.

“Not -“ The disgraced crown prince of the Fire Nation shook his head, like it would help him decipher the jumble of words he kept locked up in there. Letting okay a sharp sigh, he muttered, “My family’s already caused you enough pain. You shouldn’t have to take care of me too.” Katara answered him with her own scowl, a familiar fire stoking in her gut. Rising to her knees, she closed the distance between them, grabbing his chin to direct his gaze up to meet hers. Any other time, she’d have blushed at the absurdity of the action - what was she, some hero from a romance scroll? - but it was impossible to feel absurd as Zuko’s lips parted minutely, eyes wide as they roamed her face.

“You’re right,” she said, low. “Your family - your country- has caused me a lot of pain. So why would you cause me more by not allowing me to comfort my friend?” Relaxing her grip on his chin, she brushed her fingers upward on his face until they traced the edge of his scar.

“Taking care of you doesn’t cost me anything, Zuko,” she murmured before releasing him. She turned away to give him space and maybe to jump in the ocean or hide away in her room until the flush that had slowly crept over her whole body calmed - but she didn’t get very far, because Zuko’s hand wrapped lightly around her forearm, tugging her back to face him. When she had, he gently traced his fingers down her arm until they were threaded with hers.

“It doesn't cost me anything either.”

[peterparkersnose]

Feeling You

pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

word count: 3.6k

warnings: david’s episode and themes along with that, reader is chained up, david is literally creepy and disgusting, reader kills a person, description of death, angst, joel cannot physically feel anything, trauma description, ellie’s aftermath of david, religious trauma, mentions of weapons

a/n hi season finale my life is over at least we got mando still 💪

summary Y/N confesses something to Joel she shouldn’t have when she saw him awake for the first time in weeks after his accident

masterlist

join the tag list

read time: 13 mins 10 seconds

The feeling of panic woke you up. The strange dream you couldn’t remember faded as your senses came back to you. It was cold and your head was pounding. The cold air nipped your nose. Your clothes felt like there was space between the fabric and your skin, you could feel the stinging cold prick your skin. You lay flat on what you could only imagine was a bed. It wasn’t comfortable whatsoever and only made your back stiff. Joel’s flannel from the night before had kept you warm enough to survive. Gaining the muster to move, you tried to yank your feet on the floor. Your right leg was cuffed to the bed pole.

“She’s awake,” you heard someone call, and commotion started around you. Blinking your eyes and trying to adjust to what was happening, the noise of a padlock being opened distracted you. “Good morning,”

You recognized that voice. The man that you and Ellie encountered in the woods. What was his name…David? How did you even get here?

“I’m glad to see your up.”

You scuffled on your hands, propping yourself up in bed. “Where is she?” you shivered, moving your free leg up to your chest. The only other thought that consumed your brain was the little girl you were protecting.

“You must be cold. Here,” David said, snapping his fingers. One of his friends fed a blanket through the bars that were currently entrapping you. He draped the blanket over you. You hated it, but had no choice but to accept it.

“Where is she?” you reiterated. “She’s fine.” David ensured to you. “All comfy like you.”

“This is far from comfortable.” you hissed at him. “Just, tell me a few things and I can make you feel real comfortable.” David said. His tone made your stomach drop.

“Where is he?” David asked, mimicking your insistent question.

You knew he meant Joel. That’s all they wanted. Joel. You and Ellie were just the sad accessories that came along with him. “With the rest of the group.” you lied. David sucked his teeth. “Tell the truth,” he said, standing up over you. Scooting over in the small bed, you tried to put as much distance between you and the man.

“God doesn’t look down well on liars,”

‘What a freak’ you thought to yourself. You remembered reading old stories about cults that mimicked his teachings, or what he had preached at you the night he found you and Ellie.

“What kind of god makes our world a living hell?” you taunted. “Why would you believe in some shit cause? Have you seen what is out there?”

A subtle but dark smile came to David’s face. He brought up his hand and promptly slapped you on the cheek. Hard. The all too familiar needle like feeling seeped in on your cheek. The taste of blood slowly began to form in your mouth.

“We all need a father. We all need some guidance.” David said, bringing his hand up to your face again. You winced, hoping he wouldn’t strike you again. Instead, his fingers grabbed your chin. “There’s always time to repent,”

He inspected your face, forcing it to turn in whichever angle he would like. Blood filled your gums and began to dribble down your face as he squeezed your cheeks together. “Such a pretty thing,” he sighed. You spat in his face. He sighed and wiped the blood and spit mixture from his forehead with his sleeve.

He let go and stepped back. “I see your confidence, I see your leadership, I see myself in you.” he explained, taking another step back. “We could lead, you know. Bring greatness to this group. I could give you a future. A future with me.”

A new kind of fear began as you slowly began to realize what he truly wanted from you. The only thing you were good for in his eyes, maybe besides your flesh. His eyes seemed to undress you under the few layers of clothes you had on. They had taken your coat the previous night and you were left in your jeans and one of Joel’s flannels you stole from his pack to stay warm.

“Just give him up and I’ll give you the world.”

You sat silently. It was obvious that David was getting annoyed. “He’s just your old dad. It’s probably better if my guys get to him before the-”

“He’s not my dad.” you said harshly. “Well,” David laughed. “My apologies.”

He dragged the stool from the corner of the cell to the side of the bed. He straddled the stool and got a little too close for comfort. “Is he her dad?” he asked. You shook your head no. “Uncle, brother, cousin…? I’m trying to understand the relationship so I don’t hurt the little girl too much.”

You looked away and focused on the painted white brick wall. He was searching for leverage, an advantage you were not about to give him. The breathing exercises were not working when you could smell David’s rancid breath on you. “Oh,” he said with a smirk. “I get it.”

“Your with him.”

Closing your eyes, you moved your hand over your face. “Aren’t you a little young for such an old geezer?” he asked. You shook your head no. What a fucking narcissist. This man had to be Joel’s age, and from the looks of how much hair he had left I would say, maybe, older.

The age gap was the one thing keeping you from going the extra step and pursuing Joel. The mutual attraction had been present for a while, but you both were too afraid to face the facts. And now that he was as good as dead, the mere thought of what could have been stung harder than it should have.

“If your not gonna talk, then I’m just going to move to your little friend.” David sighed, realizing he wasn’t going to get what he wanted out of you without some sort of leverage. His original plan hadn’t worked.

“No,” you called out, wanting to swallow your words back down. David’s back turned around again. “Then tell me pretty girl,” he said, each step echoing in the jail cell as he got closer to you. “Are you fucking him?” he asked, his nose almost touching yours. With lips pursed and your eyes tightly closed, you shook your head no. Your face rose with heat at the mere implication. 

“Liar.” he spit at you. He left you once again and sat outside your cage with his friends.

You began to doze off. Caged to the bed like a dog and freezing wasn’t the best headspace to stay in. You tried to imagine the penicillin Ellie came back with had some sort of super power and resurrected Joel so he could come kill this red headed motherfucker that wouldn’t stop staring you down. So that he could rescue you and Ellie and you could return to Jackson to get proper treatment and then take Ellie to the lab that was supposedly in Salt Lake City. So Joel could return to you and just be there and be alive. You missed Joel endlessly, even though you were just with him hours prior. And the last time you saw him, he was as good as gone.

As you were dreaming about the unlikely future, the men began to stir. One left, and another followed. There was muffled arguing down the hallway. David was getting angry about all the commotion and went to see what was happening.

“She what?” you heard him yell down the hall. “You mean to tell me she’s escaped?”

Your lungs caught your breath too hard when you heard him say that. She’s escaped? Ellie?

“Watch her.” David commanded, poking his head in the room and yelling at a man who you believed to be named James. He sat down in David’s stool and stared at you. You slowly began to get up, your leg chain dangling off the bed. James didn't say a word. 

Suddenly, two gunshots rang out. You grabbed for the white painted bars blocking you from leaving, and tripping on your leg chain. “No!” you screamed, pulling yourself back up. “No,” you said quieter, the reality of Ellie’s death started to become a little too real for your comfort. 

James had arisen, his hand rested on his gun in it’s holster as he anxiously stared at the door. He took a step back, contemplating what he was going to do. His back was turned to you. Another shot rang out, and James jumped backwards. In the hassle, the keychain holding your key to freedom was conveniently sticking out of his back pocket and was accessible to you. Without hesitation, you grabbed the keys and along fell out his knife. 

James was quick to react, grabbing your hand with the keys interlocked in your fingers. He grunted as your other hand met the set of keys and started to pry his cold, lanky fingers off the keys. James was hesitant to drop his gun, it would have been in reach for you. He was clueless that his knife was in reach where he couldn't see. 

“Fine,” he said, giving up. He let go and let you have the keys. “The second you try anything…” 

He looked over at his gun. He was still level with you on the ground. Sliding the keys behind you, you quickly grabbed the knife from behind him. Panic flashed in his eyes as you grabbed his neck and swiftly impaled his neck with the knife. He began to choke, and you pushed it in once again. His gun fell from his hand as he uselessly pawed at his neck. 

After a few tries with the various keys, you finally unlocked your leg from the chain that had been wrapped around your ankle all night. Quickly, you escaped your jail cell. You grabbed James’s knife from his neck and wiped it off on your jeans. Also, you stole his gun. 

You were shaking. Freezing and adrenaline wasn't the best combination at the moment. You were unsure of where to go. Where was Ellie? Where would Ellie go? You were all she had left. The cold hallway with a door with light pouring out under it seemed like the smart choice. 

When you opened the door, you were hit like a brick wall with a gust of wind blowing snow in your direction. Your arm immediately came to cover your eyes as you hastily made your way through the snow cloud. Just as it was about to clear, two arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you out in to the open. 

After grunting and fighting what you prayed wasn’t David or one of his associates, your hands were held behind your back tightly. Screaming and wriggling, you couldn’t hear the voice of your new partner in crime trying to calm you. 

“Y/N!” you finally heard. The haze around you seemed to settle. “Hey! It’s me,” 

You opened your eyes from the struggle and thought you were hallucinating from the evident dehydration and starvation. His hands now rested on your shoulders as he looked at you with the first inkling of real fear you had ever seen behind his eyes. 

“Are you alright?” Joel asked in a gutted tone, staring at the formation of a red handprint on your face. The fear turned into rage behind his eyes. All you could do was stare in to his face and enjoy the safe feeling once again. An unintentional sob came from you. Joel quickly embraced you. 

His hand shook as he cradled your head in his hand. “I got you,” he whispered, holding your body tight against his. “T-they still have her.” you whispered in his ear. 

Joel’s body stiffened. 

“Where?” he asked, letting you go. He reached for his coat, sliding it off his arms. “I don’t know I was trying to find her and—”

Joel noticed your hands and grabbed for them. They were covered in fresh blood. “Fuck,” he whimpered. “Go find her.” you said, pulling your hands away from his. “But—”

“Go,” you trembled. 

Joel’s longing look was one you were never going to forget. He saw the gun tucked in your pants and gave you a nod. “Hide,” he said in a hushed voice. 

As he was about to leave, you called out his name. He turned to you with a hurtful sigh. He was limping. Swallowing, you spit out the words to the man you had fallen for across this journey across the country. “I love you,” 

He was taken aback. It was definitely sudden and unexpected. His lips parted slightly in shock. Joel’s need to protect Ellie was strong at the moment. He didn’t have time to give in to these childish antics at the moment.

“I…”

His feelings for you wanted to stay, but his duty to Ellie, his duty to Sarah was more important than a silly crush on a silly girl. This whole time he thought he was just being delusional. All the little things, little moments the two of you shared he thought was just out of pure alliance and survival. 

Nausea filled you as you as you realized he had to go. He wasn’t going to say it back; from everything you knew about Joel Miller, you should have expected this exact reaction. He was unable to love, unable to just say it back to someone who was significantly younger than him and was a stranger just six months ago. Joel would regret this moment for the rest of his life. He stared at you in disbelief, unsure of what to do. He watched as your lips pursed and your hands wrap around your stomach, trying to keep yourself warm. 

“I’m sorry.” he muttered, turning away from you. 

You watched as you zipped his coat up as another gust of wind threw snow around the open space and he was gone.

Quickly, your eyes darted for a hiding spot. The survival instinct came in and tried its best to shut out the hurt you had just caused yourself. An old heat radiator stood a few feet to your left, in the direction Joel was. A produce crate covered in snow was another foot away and you picked it up, placing it next to the radiator. You sat on the freezing ground, clutching the gun and praying for something to go right today. 

A terrible scream erupted in the town’s square. You recognized that scream anywhere. Ellie, the little girl you had been with practically since her birth was in trouble. Your heart pounded in your chest as you jumped from your hiding space and ran towards the screaming. When you arrived, you stopped a few feet behind them. Joel was holding Ellie just as he was holding you moments before, moments before you had just fucked everything up. A lump rose in your throat as you feared the worst. 

“Ellie!” you yelled loudly and clear, catching the little girl’s attention. She looked up at you and wailed, her face was covered in blood. Almost falling on your knees mid run to her, she left Joel’s arms and collapsed in to yours. 

“Oh, baby.” you murmured, brushing her hair our of her face. She held on to you and sobbed in to your chest. You offered soft words of assurance, unaware of what monstrosities Ellie had just survived. Slowly rocking her back and forth, your hand intertwined with hers as you tried to calm her down. Brief words through the sobs Ellie let out broke your heart. 

“Y/N-” Joel said with a raspy voice. You shot him a look of hurt as you rested your chin on Ellie’s head. You slowly shook your head in disappointment. “It’s okay, Ellie.” you whispered in her ear. “Your safe now.”

“We really should go,” Joel urged, anxiously looking around. You closed your eyes, ignoring him. Ellie’s wails had subsided, but her grip on your waist hadn’t let up. 

“Let’s go,” you whispered to her, using the sleeves of Joel’s coat to wipe some of the blood off of her face. Joel was right. You all were heavily exposed at the moment. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

--

It was now night. The horse was gone, and Joel was barely able to keep upright for long. You had found a cave while trying to hunt down a rabbit. The three of you were going to rest there for the night. 

Ellie hadn’t left your side. Her hand was in yours as you made your way up the cold mountainside. Slowly, the three of you trudged upward. 

The rabbit you had caught for dinner was average. Joel was hurt, but still useful. He made a fire and helped Ellie get comfortable. She was in dire need for a good night of sleep. Hell, you all were in dire need for a good night of sleep. No words had been spoken between you and Joel since the small town. 

Ellie’s head rested in your lap. You sat against the wall of the cave and watched Ellie as she slowly took in breaths. Joel was fixated on the flames, making sure they were still roaring strong. 

“You should get some sleep,” Joel said, breaking the tension. You shrugged. “I-I can take first watch,” he offered. “No.” you said back bitterly. 

“Y/N,” Joel sighed, adjusting his tone to yours. “Are you going to be bitter the rest of this trip?” he asked bluntly. Your head snapped to look up at him. Joel raised an eyebrow. 

“I just need some time, Joel.” 

“Well, you kinda said it at the worst time possible.” he muttered, using the ground to stand up and fetch another log of wood for the fire. “Well,” you seethed. “I thought you were dead. When I saw you…I had to.” 

You sighed and closed your eyes as you heard him toss the wood on the fire. 

Joel’s shoulders slumped as he slid down back against the wall. “Yeah, I know.” he said heavily. “It’s just hard for me to hear things like that.”

You nodded. “I’m sorry. I should have been more… considerate.” you apologized, searching for the right word. Joel was right; wrong time and wrong place. Stretching your legs out towards the fire, Ellie stirred in her sleep. You and Joel stared at the girl, waiting for her to calm. Her grasp on your hand tightened, but she seemed to fall back into her hazy state.

“I failed her,” Joel said, a tinge of sadness backed up his tone. “Joel, no.” you sighed. “I-I should have been there. I should have been more careful and…”

His face scrunched as he placed his hand on his forehead, shielding his eyes. Was he… no. Was he?

Slowly, you moved Ellie off your lap. She let out a few grunts of protest, but you placed your backpack under her head. You scuffled next to Joel. He seemed to jump at your touch. “Joel,” you whispered, grabbing his hand in yours. Tears welled in his eyes. “I failed her Y/N.” 

The definition of her was falling on a fine line between Ellie and Sarah. 

“No you didn’t. You saved us, Joel. You saved her.” 

The two of you stared at Ellie. She was sound asleep. Ellie was now clean, you had helped her clean up in a freezing stream. It almost felt like a proud parent moment in some odd, fucked up way. The two of you staring at your miracle kid. She had survived and endured so much for her age. It was almost odd to see her resting so peacefully. The knowledge that the two of you got her there safely was enough to keep the hope flowing.

Your other hand fell over the one you had holding on to his, and your head rested on his shoulder. 

“I love that kid so fucking much,” Joel blurted out, his free hand moving to wipe a tear out of his face. “I know.” you said, feeling the emotions in you begin to rise. “I love her too,” you whispered, your eyebrows falling soft. Joel tried to keep it in, but a sudden gasp for air made it evident that he was crying. 

Sitting with him was the best thing you could do. Your hand rubbed over his knuckles that had healed from the events of leaving the Boston QZ. Slowly, testing your limits, your arm wrapped around his shoulders. He moved his head in to the nape of your neck and sighed. He was hiding behind you from his feelings and the world. You were his metaphorical escape. 

Joel’s mind wandered to all the previous moments the two of you had shared. Awkward, brief stares at each other in the Boston QZ periodically before you two actually knew each other. When you bandaged him up after a bullet graze. Your hands were so soft and you worked so carefully, making sure the process was as painless as you could make it. Or when you shared your last meal with him. You ripped the disgusting piece of jerky up and insisted he ate it. The two of you were sitting in what used to be a park and was watching Ellie play on the fragile equipment when it happened. One of the few moments she actually got to live like a kid. 

“Y/N?” Joel whispered in your ear. Turning to look at him, his eyes were red and puffy. “I do love you, you know.” 

A thin lipped smile rose to your face. You nodded. “I’m not very good at these kinds of things… I’m sorry.” he sighed.

You rejected his apology and rested your head back on his shoulder. “I know. Me too,” you managed to say, with a slight chuckle at the end. Your hand wrapping over his slowly turned in to his hand intertwining with yours. “We’ll get through this. Together.” you assured him. Joel nodded, leaning in to kiss you softly on the forehead. You felt a rush of happiness fill you at this small gesture. 

Joel was a hard man to crack, you had known that since the first day you met him. His stubbornness was relentless. This meant the world to you. 

Now as the two of you lay side by side, you felt him wrap his arms around you. Joel was so warm, it was comforting. He pulled you close, not caring what Ellie would think when she awoke. You both closed their eyes, praying this remote cave was safe enough to not stay up and watch for any danger. And it was. 

Joel was healing physically, but the shattered man inside began repairs as the night moved on. He knew he could do anything, feel anything, and try to be even an inkling of the man he used to be with you at his side.

tag list: @dani5216 @uwiuwi @alohastyles-x @mandoloriancookie @maddieinnit0 @alexxavicry @scoliobean @avengersfan25 @nyotamalfoy

[cissyenthusiast010155]

Take Me Back to Shore ~Broken!Wifey!Larissa Weems xComforting!Wifey!Alcina Dimitrescu(AlrissaAU)

Summary— AU where Larissa and Alcina are wives, in a long distance relationship where Larissa works to run Nevermore in Vermont and Alcina runs Castle Dimitrescu in Eastern Europe. They see each other as much as possible, but the distance starts to really take a toll on Larissa… Luckily, Alcina is there to comfort her wife.

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: little angst, happy ending fluff, implied panic attack, anxiety, self-conscious, insecurity, crying, burn out, long distance relationships, comforting, loving wives, happy ending, etc.

Enjoy (;

Larissa sighed deeply as her bright screen strained her eyes to the point of incompetence. With a groan she shut her laptop, looking out her office window, she realized how late it was. The woman felt a pang of guilt as she pulled out her phone and hit the first contact on the screen. The phone dialed. The blonde hadn’t talked to her wife all week and it was Friday.

She had just been so busy, this time of year her workload tripled, the end of the school year coming near, or at least it felt like it. Running a school was not a feat for the weak. Plus, Larissa didn’t want to bug her partner too much, she knew that Alcina led a life of her own, and had her own responsibilities as well. The woman was pulled out of her thoughts by a familiar voice on speaker.

“My love?”

“Darling, Hello…!”

She heard Alcina expel a sigh across the phone.

“It is lovely to hear your voice, Draga Mea. I’ve had the longest day. How was your week?”

Larissa couldn’t help but wonder if she had interrupted the woman while doing something if she was so busy. Her mind nagged her, wondering if Alcina had even thought about her, missed her this past week. The two women only saw each other on the weekends or on breaks, due to the nature of their jobs.

The two of them had met each other while vacationing in Geneva. They had immediately hit it off, spending all of their time together by the end of the week. When the heavenly vacation eventually came to an end, Larissa and Alcina had to part ways, each going back home. But they vowed to keep in contact. Over the years, they chatted over the phone and would visit one another as much as they could. Five years later, they were married. But this long distance was starting to chip away at Larissa. Larissa groaned.

“Long. What about yours? I do hope I’m not interrupting anything…” The blonde breathed out.

“Oh Draga, I am sorry. And nonsense, you never interrupt. I am sure my day was nothing compared to yours. How close are you to being done? Will you be coming home tonight?” Alcina insisted.

That wasn’t true, Larissa interrupted all the time. She had called Alcina five times last week, that’s why she hadn’t called once before today this week. She felt like a burden. Alcina kept such a busy life, running her castle and village, Larissa never wanted to interfere with that. She felt that every call or text she made was a price to pay, a toll taken on her soul. Nevertheless, Alcina insisted that Larissa was a priority. It hadn’t always felt this way. Maybe it had just been a long week…

Spending extended time away from the love of her life never did Larissa any good. It was easy for the blonde to get inside her head and let her thoughts spiral her into a slippery slope of depression and anxiety. Larissa dragged her mind from the depths of the sea back to the shore, back to Alcina. She let out a pitiful sigh.

“Not done, no. Not even close… There is simply too much to do. Might have to stay the weekend to get it all done…” The blonde mumbled, bringing her hands to cover her face in shame of the words coming out of her mouth

“Oh ‘Rissa Mea… Please come home. Work from here if you must. You’ve been all on your own for so long, I can hear it in your voice.” Her raven haired wife cooed lovingly.

Larissa squeezed her head. She felt so conflicted, so overwhelmed. Should she go home? She had heard her wife’s plea for her to return, and part of her believed it. But another part of her mind was screaming at her that she didn’t deserve it, that Alcina was saying these things out of pity. Alcina didn’t want her. She could only stand to spend as little time with her as possible. She was a mere impediment, a nuisance in her wife’s life.

Larissa suddenly smacked herself in the head. She had to get these thoughts out, she couldn’t think properly. It was too overwhelming. She cringed to herself, gnawing at her teeth as she curled into a ball in her chair at her desk in her office. Alone, as always. She had remained quiet for too long. She had given herself away and now it was Alcina’s problem to deal with.

“ ‘Rissa? Draga? My love, please talk to me.” Alcina pleaded, concern and care lacing her entire tone of voice.

Larissa couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. I’m not wanted. I’m worthless. I’m useless. No one wants me. Her mind broadcasted those phrases over and over again, on a merciless loop. She was hyperventilating, shaking in her chair. Tears began to stream down her face. Her nails clawed at her skin, just wanting to feel something, anything rather than the pain radiating throughout her entire being. She was going to drown, she was being dragged back to the depths of the sea. But Alcina was her anchor.

“Take deep breaths for me, Draga Mea. Deep breaths. Find some peppermint and some water. Let us talk through it.” Alcina calmly instructed her wife.

Larissa nodded shakily, slowly untangling herself and doing as she was told. Once she popped a peppermint in her mouth, had a few sips of water, and did some deep breathing with Alcina, she sat back down with some sniffles. Alcina then proceeded to talk Larissa through it, debunking all of the blonde’s anxious thoughts with loving ease, until the blonde was calm and reassured that she was indeed loved, wanted, and worthy.

“I… I’m sorry” the blonde stammered after a period of silence.

“Nonsense, my love. Now, please come home. This week has obviously affected you more than you know or care to admit, and you have no one to take care of you over there. Come home and be with me.”

Larissa nodded and stifled a little, as a little tear of love escaped her right eye.

“I will, Alci, I promise. Thank you, I love you so much” the blonde breathed out.

“I love you too, Draga Mea. See you soon.” her raven haired wife hummed

All Larissa had to do was reach out; Alcina would always be there for her.

~~~

Alcina Dimitrescu Masterlist

Larissa Weems Masterlist

[specialagentlokitty]

Aizawa x student!reader - safe with me

Pulling your sleeves down, you glanced at your fellow student then back to the ground.

“Do you know how we’re going to beat him?” Todoroki asked.

You shook your head.

“Your quirk allows you to manifest wings and electricity right?”

You quickly nodded your head.

“Perfect, we can use that, I’ll keep using my quirk and you use yours, but only the lightening, let me know if it starts acting weird.”

You nodded again.

When Todoroki began running you ran after him, focusing on the black lightening that was surrounding your arms.

Most likely you would be Aizawa’s first target, if he could erase your quirks and trap you it would be easier for him to get to Todoroki.

He knew that you excelled in long distance combat, that you had precision over your electricity, so it would make sense.

“When we’re close, we split up, I’ll distract him and you fly straight for the exit.”

“Right…” you mumbled.

You guys kept running, and the moment that you were close, you ran down a different street.

With a small snap your wings manifested behind you, and you jumped into the air, immediately taking flight.

You glanced down to see Todoroki fighting with the teacher, and you wanted to give him a fighting shot as well, so you aimed your lighting at Aizawa.

Except when it came to the discharge you panicked, firing just to the side of him instead as an almost warning shot.

Todoroki used this as his chance to get away, and you dived down to reach him, holding your hand out as he reached his hand up.

You had control, then you suddenly lost it.

You began a free fall towards the ground.

You screamed in pain as your wings were forcefully removed from your back.

“(Y/N)!”

Todoroki jumped, catching your before you could crash into the ground and the force sent you both tumbling across the street.

Pushing yourself to the side, you sat on your knees, body trembling with pain as you took a few deep breaths to try and push it behind you.

“You’re bleeding.” He said quietly.

Todoroki reached out, and you pushed his hand away, slowly sitting up.

“Keep going…”

He nodded his head.

You weren’t one to insist on things, everybody knew that, so this was important to you, and he wasn’t going to take that away from you.

Grabbing your hand, he pulled your back.

“Can you get your wings back?”

You shook your head.

“No, it’ll be too much. I still have my electricity though.”

“I have an idea, can you control the voltage?”

You nodded your head and listened carefully to him.

Aizawa had heard your shout if pain, and he hadn’t actually meant to erase your quirk, he knew that it was dangerous, but out of reflex when he heard you he looked.

He was trying to find wherever you had gone, which is what lead him directly to the trap that you and Todoroki had set for him.

When you saw the teacher coming closer, you stood in front of Todoroki to protect him from the teachers quirk.

He froze the ground, then melted the ice so it was water, then he stood in front of you, and you placed your hands on the ground.

Lightening covered the water, and the moment Aizawa landed on it he was stunned.

It wasn’t enough to do any damage to him, merely render him incapacitated, and Todoroki acted quickly to cuff the teacher.

When it was announced that you two had passed, you quickly turned around and left the arena.

“Will (Y/N) please reported to Recovery Girl for an assessment of their injuries.” Nezu announced.

You listened to the announcement, but you didn’t follow what you were told.

You changed out of your hero costume, into your gym clothes and made your way home instead.

You didn’t want anybody looking at your back, you could handle it on your own.

Standing in front of your bathroom mirror, you looked over your shoulder as you activated your electricity quirk.

The black lightening crawled across your back, almost acting as stitches to bring the wound together, the heat burning the skin together.

It hurt a little, but you had done it plenty of times before and you had the scars to prove it.

Once it was sealed together you walked into your room and pulled on a hoodie, making your way to the kitchen to begin making your dinner.

Your phone was buzzing with missed calls and texts from your worried classmates.

Washing your hands, you made your way over to it to see the school has tried ti call you as well.

Muting your phone, you went back to cooking, just about to sit down to eat when your doorbell went, and you got back up.

Walking over you unlocked it and pulled it open.

“You were supposed to see recovery girl.”

You didn’t reply, and you went to close the door, only to be stopped by the teacher blocking you from closing the door.

“Not so fast. You still need to be looked at.”

You shook your head, and walked away, deciding if he was going to come in or stand there was up to him.

Walking back to the table you sat back down, and he walked over with recovery girl.

“You seem to be doing fine for somebody who serious back injuries.” She said.

You nodded your head.

“However I still need to have a look, so stop being so stubborn.”

She walked around, and you jumped up, turning to face her so she couldn’t look at your back.

“(Y/N) we’re not messing around, this is serious. We have to look at your back.”

You shook your head again.

He sighed, looking over at you, then to recovery girl.

“If that’s the case then you must be kept under observation for your own well-being. Are your parents home?”

You shook your head again.

“I’ll stay until they get back, thank you recovery girl, Nezu is still outside”

“Very well.”

She padded away, and you unsurely studied your teacher.

He could tell you didn’t trust him to go near you, you were scared and unsure.

You had never been the most confident of students, and he was hoping the final exam would’ve changed that for you, but it had somehow made it worse.

Aizawa pointed to your dinner, then he walked over to sit down on the couch.

“Eat. How long until your parents come home?”

You slowly walked over to the table, sitting back down, ignoring his question as you quietly ate your dinner.

Aizawa looked around the mostly bare apartment, you didn’t have much personal affects, if any.

There was no signs of any adult living there with you, he had only counted two other doors on his way into the living room, if he was right one would be a bedroom, the other a bathroom.

There wouldn’t be any room for anybody else to live there with you.

“Do you live alone (Y/N)?” He asked.

You nodded your head.

“Is there a reason for this?”

Again you nodded your head, not looking up from your dinner.

“You did well in the final exam today, a lot of people would have stopped after being hurt like that, you didn’t, you wanted to help your teammate win.”

You stayed quiet.

He sighed, getting up and he walked over to the table, pulling out the chair opposite you and he sat down.

“I wasn’t supposed to use my quirk on you, when I heard you moving I instinctively looked over, when I realised what I had done I deactivated my quirk.”

You stopped eating, pushing your food away from you.

“Is your back alright? I know that forcefully removing your wings is extremely painful for you.”

You sat quietly.

“I need you to tell me if your back is still bleeding (Y/N), and don’t lie to me, because we saw your suit, we saw the blood and Todoroki explained the injury to us.”

“It’s fixed…”

He furrowed his brows a little bit.

“Did you do that?” He asked.

You nodded your head.

“Is that part of one of your quirks?”

You gave a small shrug.

“I need you to understand that I would never intentionally harm you, I was hoping the final exam would be a chance to increase your confidence in yourself. I never meant to cause you injury, and I am sorry.”

You looked at him shock, never had you heard him apologise for anything and it seemed out of character for him, yet he seemed sincere.

You looked away.

“It’s fine…”

He nodded his head, deciding he wouldn’t push the subject any further.

“Do you mind if we talk about your living situation?”

You shrugged a little bit.

You were shutting down on him again.

“Hey, hey you’re not in trouble. I never came here to tell you off. It’s my job to make sure you’re safe.”

You nervously looked away.

“Are you safe?”

When you didn’t reply that gave him all the information he needed.

He had been building this information up since the staff of school, about your confidence, your fear of everything, your reluctance to use your quirks.

Aizawa had a pretty good idea of what was going on, and this was only confirming his suspicions.

“(Y/N)?”

You glanced at him.

“You’re safe with me.” He said softly.

You were so timid and scared, clearly you had been hurt and let down time and time again, but here you were, trying to be a hero so you could save other people, and that was something to admire.

He just needed to show you have to be confident in yourself, and show you that you’re safe from whatever you’ve been running front

[genshin-side-piece]

Love Me True

Follow up to Love Me Tender

Warnings: Yandere Content, Dark themes, Implied Kidnapping, Implied Captivity, Implied Stalking, Somnophilia, Non-Consensual Touching, Sexual themes, not smut (sorry),Not Fluff, Uncomfortable themes, Angst, my bad writing, anything else I missed, 18+, Minors DNI

At times, it was hard to hate Neuvillette. His kindness and his willingness to do anything for you almost made you forget the circumstances of which he kept you. The life he built for you wasn’t a bad one. In the correct context, it could be described as tolerable. He wasn’t abusive or beastly. Outside of his wandering hands, one could even say he was gentlemanly. He provided for you. He protected you and on some very weird level, you believe he loved you; or at least he loved you as he understood what love could be.

Many had it worse than you did. That fact didn’t stop you from thinking that being returned to your old life was still preferable. You missed the freedom you had once taken for granted. It wasn’t like the so-called freedom you had here. In your old life, you weren’t bound by Neuvillette’s endless rules. You weren’t observed every second of every day.  You weren’t cooped up in a drafty house, subject to restrictive diets for your health and dress codes that encouraged Neuvillette to look with his eyes long before he ever used his hands. You could hide from the world, from him if you needed too. You could lock your door. You missed being truly free. Now your freedom was limited to being able to wander the prison you shared with your captor, provided he decided not to chase you from one end of his house to the other. 

The only thing that made the life you had now tolerable was that Neuvillette was seldom home. His work kept him busy, so in turn, you were generally left alone. You had your little wardens in the melusines, but they were generally no trouble. Unlike the Iudex, they knew how to keep their distance when you preferred to be left alone. They, like him, swore your imprisonment had been done for your own good. All of them claimed the world was far too dangerous for you. That you would be safer here, under his watchful eye. He was such a good provider, was he not? Didn’t the good monsieur keep you in such excellent comfort? Weren’t you given all that you needed to be happy? That’s all they wanted for you, both of you, was to be happy. From their perspective at least, one of you had achieved the happiness they clamored for. It didn’t hurt that from Neuvillette’s perspective, you had brought warmth to what had been an empty life. 

You could almost pity him in his loneliness. The key word being almost. Over the many months that you had been with him, you had certainly become somewhat sympathetic to his circumstances; born to blend in yet be kept apart, abandoned at birth, forever fated to be alone. It couldn’t be an easy existence. Not when his most relatable trait was that he yearned to understand himself much in the same way that all beings searched for their own understanding. In the few conversations you’d had with him, which were mainly him speaking at you and you simply trying to ignore him; he had confessed he had long wished to understand the emotions that plagued him. Whatever he was, didn’t process them in the same manner as humanity. So the concept of human emotions was a foreign thing for him. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t manage to understand them. That was where you felt you came into the odd arrangement you had with him. Neuvillette learned through observation. Clearly he felt he could learn something from you. What that was, you weren’t sure. 

His self professed connection to you didn’t help your confusion. He was insistent on protecting you to the point that he had isolated you from the world. To you, him bringing you here was an irrational reaction to a problem that didn’t exist. Up until a few months ago, you hadn’t even known him. Like many other citizens, Neuvillette was little more than a name to you. You hadn’t cared about him one way or the other. Never in your wildest dreams did you ever think that not only would the Iudex of Fontaine personally track you down during a holiday in the mountains, but that he would proceed to hold you hostage ever since. It was like a bad dream that you couldn’t wake from. In the long hours where he was away you had wondered if he expected you to help him with the affliction that was his emotions. You fantasized about that being the key to your freedom. He would finally figure himself out and there would be no need for you anymore. You would be free to resume your life, presumably in another country. Somewhere landlocked, with no large bodies of water, just to be safe. It was a nice fantasy, one that made you smile whenever the rain came. Your new home would be sunny and warm and free of anyone who was emotionally impotent. A hermit on the side of a mountain seemed ideal for that or perhaps you could trick an adeptus into hiding you in a domain. Whatever it ended up being, the last place you wished it to be was Neuvillette’s drawing room. Like the man who owned it, you’d had enough of both.

For a man who held Fontaine’s fate in his hands, he was woefully unobservant of his own surroundings. There had been far too many nights where you had woken to his clammy hands running themselves all over your body. You had endured his hot breath fanning its way across you skin as the wet sounds of him working his fist over his c*ck filled your ears. Your instinct was always to pull away, but the second you tried to move, his hold on you tightened like a vice, leaving dark bruises that lasted for days. He never apologized for them, but his eyes always tended to linger on the spot where they were during the day. It was difficult to know if he was truly sorry, or if like your whimpers when he left said bruises, the knowledge that they were there spurred him on. He was always quick to return to your side when you had them, often opting to stay overnight so that he might hold you in his sleep. On those nights, he never sensed you were awake. He never stopped himself from overstepping his place as your jailer. The best Neuvillette had done was on the mornings where he spent the night, he would quietly excuse himself, offering you a reprieve from the ritual that was him watching your morning levee. You were still expected to endure his company at meal times, but for that morning at least he left you alone. The fact that he could act as if nothing had happened, that you hadn’t woken with his entire body wrapped around yours, was utterly annoying. It killed any will you had to help him. Instead, you sought to torment him in any manner possible. You had long resolved yourself to make him suffer, even if the suffering was nothing more than a minor inconvenience for him, it was still something.

Suffer, he did.

Endlessly. With cause. From clothing, to scents, to distance, to attention. You learned what cut him the deepest. What tormented him the most. What punished him to a level that you found gratifying. It was petty. Were you still in your old life, it would have been beneath you to be as you were. You hadn’t liked being petty. It was a waste of time and energy. You had always thought it best to take the high road. Fate caught up to everyone in this life, eventually it would find those that had wronged you. In this life though, it was one of the few things you were allowed to not only have, but exercise with complete regularity. You could burn your excess energy and boredom on punishing Neuvillette for his crimes against you. It was only fair that the chief justice got his. If he was going to sacrifice your freedom in the name of protection, then the same could be done with his love. His love could suffer for the sake of your autonomy. After all you had been put through, it was no less than he deserved.