#look i know this is a stupid complaint i know its not anyones fault but my own bla blah but i will still complain

[dreamwinged]

cant wait to f/o reveal so i can put the biggest most annoying flashing rainbow colored DO NOT INTERACT WITH ME IF YOU SHIP WITH _______ banner on the bottom of every single post i make

[pigeonwhumps]

Capture

Taglist: @painful-pooch @i-eat-worlds @a-funeral-romance @rainydaywhump

WoW birthday event: used as bait | held for ransom | "it's a trap!"

Erik invites Cedric and his slave around for the evening.

1.9k

CWs: slavery, beating, whipping, non-consensual nudity (non-sexual), captivity, whumper pov, use of the word 'bitch', punching, bruises, drinking, drugging

Cedric yanks open the door to the boiler cupboard and claps his hands together twice, sharply. The eyes of the choppy-haired girl curled up on the hard floorboards snap open and she scrambles out, not quite fast enough to avoid the encouraging kick to her lower back.

"Look sharp, Savannah. Erik's invited us round this afternoon and I need you to look better than that."

He looks Savannah up and down. She's only ever allowed to wear black tank tops, shorts and either a bra or binder when they're at home, and her hair is still mangled from when she was a little bitch and hacked it off (she doesn't dare do that anymore). Her appearance isn't entirely her fault, but he does love how much she shrinks when he comments on it.

"Yes, sir."

"Follow me then. Quickly now."

Savannah bows low and follows hot on his heels. He doesn't look back - she doesn't need it anymore. He unlocks the door to her small bathroom, containing a toilet, sink, cold shower, and very little else. The only lock is a deadbolt on the outside. The plumber had looked at him oddly when he'd had it installed.

"Shower. Dress. Kitchen in five minutes."

She shuts the door, and he strolls to the kitchen, sinking down onto the worn chair. It's early afternoon already. He'll have Savannah make him a sandwich, then they can set off.

Five minutes later almost exactly, Savannah enters the room. Her hair is shinier now, and she's in a cute little blouse, cardigan and skirt.

"That's better. Ham sandwich and then you can take the beers to the car. I hope for your sake it's tidier this time."

"Yes sir."

Savannah fixes a quick sandwich, before bracing herself and hefting the large case of beers into her arms, staggering slightly at its weight. Cedric smirks, watching her legs. She has wood nymph blood in her, as much as anyone does these days. He's glad he bought this particular broken girl from Erik to be trained as his slave, even if she's had a few relapses.

She's waiting by the jeep when he gets there, perfectly poised with her hands behind her back and eyes on the ground. Cedric looks inside the jeep. Then he turns back to stare at her.

"Really, Savannah? Does this look clean to you?"

She hesitates. "Yes, sir?"

He cuffs her hard around the head. "Try again."

"No, sir."

"Better. You can clean it and receive a suitable punishment later. For now, get in the back. You won't get any dirtier there than in the rest of this vehicle."

Savannah obeys, climbing inside with the case of beer, hugging her legs.

It's a bumpy journey, and Cedric relishes every one, knowing Savannah is suffering for her sloppiness. Stupid girl.

Savannah staggers a little upon exiting, legs probably stiff, but lifts the beers without complaint. Cedric smiles. Her eyes don't even flicker towards the trees anymore. Erik broke her well.

Cedric rolls his eyes at Erik's ring doorbell as he presses it. He has cameras everywhere, it's so excessive.

Kieran, Erik's slave, opens the door, scrambling backwards to usher them in but not in time to avoid Cedric's punch to the chest. He strides past him as the boy doubles over.

Savannah's footsteps don't falter behind him. Good.

"Show us the way, then, Kieran. Unless you want your owner to think we had to do it ourselves?"

Kieran scrambles in front of Cedric and Savannah, still winded. Cedric smiles. He still resents the fact that Savannah is more afraid of Erik than him, her owner, but he can't take it out on Erik. The boy however...

Erik smiles as they all enter.

"Cedric! It's been too long. I'm glad to see you still have the slave I sold you, it would be a shame never to see her again. She was prettier with long hair, but each to their own. Leave us a few beers and put the rest in the fridge. And fetch the snacks, both of you."

"Yes sir."

The boy just nods. He hasn't changed much since they last met up, wearing a t-shirt and trousers with long, dark, twisty hair, with a few extra bruises. Erik has never avoided the face.

Cedric plops himself down on the leather couch and accepts a beer, taking a long swig. "Cheers."

Erik smirks. "Savannah giving you a hard time?"

"Nah. Hard week at work. I'll get her to give me a massage or something. How's your boy? Misbehaving?"

Erik shrugs. "Entertainment. And he needs reminders sometimes. All slaves do."

"Still don't regret keeping him?"

"Never will. Even the special projects I rarely keep, but I trained him perfectly for my needs and he's excellent. I'll need a new special project soon though. The space is looking rather sad without one."

The slaves come back in, carrying a plate of tortilla chips and another of dips. Cedric tries some and grins. The fear in both slaves' eyes is the perfect complement.

"Yeah, okay, I see what you like about him." He takes another swig of beer. "What shall we play?"

_

Erik throws his controller across the room. The slaves both duck, Kieran not quite managing in time as it grazes the top of his head. Savannah steadies him.

Cedric is well past tipsy and heading towards totally sloshed. He must've drunk more than he thought.

He snaps his fingers sloppily. "Girl, beer."

"Yes, sir." She obeys, pressing one into his hand. He drinks as much as he can in one gulp and then dumps the rest of the can over her. "Oops. Must be time for strip poker."

Erik smiles. "Kieran, fetch the cards and deal."

Kieran does so. They have... roughly the same amount of clothes, it's fine.

Erik loses the first hand.

"Clothes off, Kieran. M'choice. Top."

The boy pulls his t-shirt off. He turns his back, as is traditional, and Cedric whistles, sobering up slightly. The criss-cross of scars, the colours and textures and areas where they meet and overlap... it's beautiful. Amazing work.

"How did you create that?"

"Trade secret. Maybe I'll show you one day."

Oh, he'd love that.

The game passes in a bit of a blur after that. He knows his slave ends up completely naked, serving drinks and snacks with the same poise she had before, and then the boy removes the last of his underwear because it's only fair. He knows that he confesses to Savannah's occasional bitchy fits and, with encouragement, beats her clumsily with Kieran's belt.

"Hey, Cedric, what do you say I show you my special project workshop? You keep asking."

"Surreee."

"Kieran, help me get him upright. I don't think he can stand properly." Erik mutters something Cedric can't make out. Kieran obeys, and the floor seems to sway and swirl under Cedric's feet but somehow the slaves are staying upright.

He envies that.

It's only Erik with him now, who pulls an arm around his shoulders to help move him along. It's… it should be cold outside. Should it? He isn't.

There's a shed that feels so far away. He blinks, watching it blur. No, there's two sheds. Odd. Do sheds usually duplicate?

Then he's inside the shed. It's darker in there, things he can't make out. It feels unnatural. A shiver runs down his spine.

He wants to leave, suddenly, he'd much rather see it in daylight. His knees buckle before he can do anything about it.

“Finally,” mutters Erik from somewhere far away. “I thought you were never going to succumb.”

Cedric's vision finally goes, and with that the rest of the world.

_

Cedric wakes.

His head throbs like he's been on the biggest bender of his life. His knees hurt too, and his arms are numb. Must've been a hell of a night.

Doesn't feel like he's anywhere comfortable though. Where is he?

“Oh, finally! You're awake!”

The voice is too loud, but he recognises it and forces his eyes open, trying to figure out where it's from. Maybe he had someone over last night.

But then… he visited Erik, didn't he?

There's a dark silhouette moving around the dimly-lit room, and then his head pounds, eyes burning as a bare bulb flicks on directly above him.

The floor is bare earth, a pile of cages and tools in one corner. Cedric's on his knees, arms suspended above his head, naked except for what looks like a hospital wristband but black and sturdier.

Erik's in front of him, wearing a grin unsettlingly past ecstatic.

“What the hell?”

“You wanted to see my special project shed. This is it.”

Cedric growls. “I'm not your fucking ‘special project’. Let me down.”

Erik clucks his tongue. “You know better than to make demands. I'll let you down when I'm good and ready.”

Cedric snarls. Why's he even here? He's not a slave, he's not one of those pathetic losers fool enough to be captured by Erik. He's not weak or cowardly, like they are, he wouldn't let himself be broken and kept.

Wouldn't let himself get taken.

Hang on a fucking second.

“Did you drug me?”

“Took you long enough to cotton on. I always thought you were at least a little smarter than that.”

“Fuck off.”

“Now, now. That's not how we do things around here. And I don't give adjustments periods. Let me show you my baby.” Cedric narrows his eyes as Erik crosses behind him and comes back carrying a long, braided rope, split into nine in the middle. And each of the nine strands is in itself braided with–

“Fucking shards of glass?”

“I said I'd show you how I made Kieran’s scars. Quite something, isn't she? She's mostly reserved for my special projects, unless a regular victim gets too cocky. Lucky you, getting to experience her first-hand.”

Cedric responds by grasping the ropes tight and struggling to his feet. There isn't much to hold onto but he manages to get his legs under him, standing shakily. He needs to get out of here. And then he can get his bitch back and rain down hell on Erik and the boy for all of this. Admittedly he's not sure what the boy has to do with it apart from having the misfortune of being here at the time, but Cedric is still going to give him hell for it.

And then his legs are kicked back out from under him and he collapses back to the ground.

“You're going to be fun.”

Fun, thinks Cedric. Yeah. But why does Erik want him? Everyone's fun to break. Savannah has forest nymph blood, Kieran's part ceasg, but Cedric's completely human. Nobody buys full-blooded humans from Erik, that's not his business model.

Erik pulls him back to his feet and pushes him against a stout wooden pole that Cedric had been wondering about, tying his arms around it tightly. He growls, struggling.

“Temper, temper. We'll break that from you. Gotta say, I haven't been this excited about a special project in a long time.” He flexes the whip a little. “What do you say we get started? We need to figure out your baseline tolerances, so this whipping is going to be a little different. I'll keep going until you can't take any more. And I'd usually bring in someone newly-broken for this part, as a test, but I thought you'd like to see a familiar face. Meet Megan.”

Cedric hadn't heard anyone behind him – curse the customarily-silent wood nymph footsteps – but then Savannah comes into view. She's clean again, any injuries hidden, in a fitted t-shirt and long shorts.

“You look disgusting,” he snarls. She shrinks backwards, arms not quite coming up to hug herself but not quite not, either.

“Megan, get a grip. Take a seat. It's this man's whipping, not your own.”

“You can't just go changing my slave's name!” he cries, outraged. “And my name is Cedric.”

“She isn't yours anymore. Nor is that your name. Your *number* is now 197, until I sell you and then it's their decision. Now, let's start with your baseline whipping tolerance. Megan, do not lose count.”

Despite the humiliation, Cedric smirks at her. He's going to take that as a challenge.

From her seat on the dirt floor, Megan flinches but looks up at him determinedly, fear-filled eyes focused just off to his right. That's where Erik must be standing, then.

The whip hisses through the air and Cedric has a split-second warning before all nine ends land on his back.

All the breath is forced out of him and he arches his back. The glass tears into him, shredding the skin and flesh even beyond what the rope alone can do.

“One.”

“Louder, sweetheart, I need to know. It's not your whipping.”

The next hit is harder, rope abrasive, skinning, glass digging into flesh where the skin’s already gone. It rips a scream from his throat, one that should surely bring people running.

“T-two.”

“Better.”

Cedric gives up listening after that. If his bitch of a slave is allowed to sit and watch while he's whipped, Erik isn't likely to say anything sensible. He'll have to be alone before he can do anything.

But he's out cold well before that.

[rebel-walnut]

Let's Do The Time Warp Again

Steddie Season 3 time travel fic, Part 5

Ao3, Pt. 1, Pt.2, Pt.3, Pt.4, Pt.6

Every time Steve looks up from his and Dustin's shared booth he sees Eddie break another health code violation. While he accepted Steve's generous gift of his very own prized sailor hat, Eddie's left his hair down and unruly beneath it, right in reach of the ice cream tubs. There's been no complaints yet, but it's only a matter of time before he drags all the curls on the left side of his head through the untouched tub of rum raisin. 

Eddie catches Steve staring and throws a wave of his ring clad fingers at him -which is another health code violation it should be noted, the manual was very clear about no hand jewelry getting in the way of serving U.S.S. Butterscotch's- and keeps eye contact over his shoulder as he heads to the freezer in the back for another tub of vanilla. As he turns Steve spots a familiar flash of black hanging out of the pocket of Eddie's borrowed sailor shorts, because of course he still has his bandana in his pocket even in this stupid costume. 

So if we're keeping track of rule breaks and health code violations, that's long hair, rings (and his dangling guitar pick necklace), his stupid bandana, and just general uncleanliness. Oh, and he's covering his name tag with a pin off his vest that says WASP. Let it be known that Steve Harrington is not handing over his scooper willingly, ladies and gentlemen. It's purely out of necessity.

The worst part though in Steve's opinion is that the strange hodgepodge of nautical-meets-metalhead is sort of working. By all laws of the Harrington Charm, it shouldn't work together. Hell, even the nautical elements on its own did nothing to help Steve's game. Probably hurt it, if anything. Yet here Eddie is, replacing the vanilla with the weirdest outfit mashup in history, sucking the ice cream off his thumb (unhygienic by the way) from replacing the bin in such a way that has three girls in a booth across the shop giggling and blushing. Maybe time travel isn't the weirdest thing that's happened today, maybe it's Eddie Munson emanating charm left and right through the power of metal, tattoos, and cheap polyester sailor costumes with Steve's name on them.

Eddie looks back up to Steve as he pops his thumb out of his mouth, his head falling to the side and his eyebrows quirking up when he sees Steve staring. Steve feels a familiar heat rise to his ears and his cheeks for reasons that he's not quite sure of.

"...even listening? Steve? STEVE!"

Every head in the shop snaps to Dustin and his expecting stare directed at Steve. After a moment, chatter starts up again and Steve turns back to Dustin. "Dude, what. Quit yelling."

"Not my fault you're too busy staring at Robin instead of answering my very important questions that could frankly save the universe, Jesus Steven, try to keep up instead of ogling your coworker."

"What?! I'm not staring at Robin, gross."

"Ok, I get it, just because she wasn't popular in high school means you can't-" Steve clamps a hand over Dustin's mouth and suppresses a gag at the thought of him and Robin. Sure, he liked her before, but now? Robin?

"I'll cut you some slack since technically you don't remember this conversation, but we've had it before, and Robin and I will never be a thing. May as well get that out of the way now- hey!" Steve pulls his hand back from Dustin's mouth as Dustin sticks his tongue out and contaminates Steve's palm. "Didn't anyone teach you manners? I know Claudia did," Dustin's smug little look is back the second Steve's hand is away.

"Didn't anyone teach you to pay attention when your friends are trying to help you save the world? As I was saying," He drops one of his grubby fingers onto the whiteboard where Steve's written as much information about the Mindflayer as he can remember. "You said there's only one gate this year, the one from the Russians. That's how the Mindflayer was activated. But," He slides his finger over to Steve's information about the gates in '86. "Next year there's three from the kids that died, plus whatever gates opened up in the earthquake that you and Eddie fell through. Meaning, we only have one gate to send you through this time unless we can open another one."

"You think we could do that? Open another one?"

Dustin grimaces as he rolls over the options in his head. "Maybe El could since she opened the first one and she closed the gate last year, but we don't necessarily need a different gate. We just need the gate to not be guarded by, well, evil Russians."

Steve reads over the writing on the board, going through the details that he remembers from the Russians as well as the Mindflayer and the Upside Down stuff, but since he was trapped in a Russian bunker for most of it there's clearly less writing on that side of the board. "God, we really need El," Steve says as he scrubs a hand down his face. "She comes in tomorrow with Max I think, so we can all talk to her then. We still have a few days before shit really hits the fan, today and tomorrow I don't think anything really happens that I can remember."

Steve's watch is flashing 1:07 PM. Eddie's been handling the lunch rush for about an hour and a half, and as much as Steve is enjoying witnessing Eddie's complete lack of health and safety competence, there's not much more Steve can add to the board. They've covered everything with the Russians from the gate to their torture devices, and Steve has down everything he remembers about the Mindflayer and it's victims. There's a small section in the bottom right with the locations of the gates in '86 and what Steve knows about Vecna (which is not much if he's being honest), but at least one concussion every year starts to take a toll on your memory. 

Steve looks over to see Eddie struggling with a strawberry cone as Robin rings up a little girl and her grandmother, half his scoop falling over the side of the cone as he tries to push it back in with the edge of the scooper. His meddling ends up cracking the cone as the scooper breaks through the wafer instead of gently nudging the ice cream, and Steve has to suppress a snort at the disaster that is Eddie Munson trying to work at Scoops Ahoy. 

Steve slides out of the booth and leaves Dustin to contemplate the board, rounding the corner of the front counter and sliding a hand over Eddie's shoulder before leaning in close. "You're off duty, sailor," Steve says just quiet enough for Eddie to hear, taking the scooper from his hand.

"Thank fuck," Eddie says in return not as quietly as he should have, given the small child standing right in front of the counter. Eddie's fingers brush the small of Steve's back as slides behind him and Steve tries not to light up at the contact. In a practiced motion, he replaces the disaster strawberry cone that Eddie was trying to make (and adding a little extra on top to make up for Eddie saying fuck) and hands it off to Robin, his eyes still on Eddie tentatively taking a seat with Dustin at the booth. 

Robin gives him another quizzical stare as she finishes up with the girl and her grandmother, only a couple other people still milling around the shop after the rush. 

The last hour of Steve's shift goes by uneventfully. Dustin spends the remainder of his time at the shop alternating between grilling Steve for details that he doesn't have and demanding more root beer floats. Eddie sits across from him and distracts him with rambles about his latest D&D campaign which seems to be about sixty percent effective at getting Dustin off Steve's back during work hours. 

Steve finishes wiping down the booths lining the wall before going to join Eddie and Dustin at the table, drying his hands and flipping the rag over his shoulder. There's a little doodle of what Steve thinks is supposed to be a demo-bat in the corner of the board, with an arrow pointing to it that says 'flesh eating.' Steve drops his finger down beside it. "Those little shits did a number on me and Eddie," Eddie, still in his sailor hat, looks up to meet Steve's eyes.

"Not in this timeline Harrington, my skin's smooth as a baby," Eddie lifts the edge of his shirt to expose a sliver of skin that should be puckered with fresh wounds and weeping bites, but is instead only one shade of pale with a small smattering of freckles. He pats his shirt as he lays it back down and Steve almost misses the small tremor in Eddie's fingers. "Which, speaking of, we should find a way to keep that from happening this time."

"Well, so far there's been no real consequences of us being here. I don't wanna push that theory too far, and I don't know if going back will put us back in our original timeline or this one, but I think we're safe enough to talk to El and see if there's anything we can do," Dustin's got his thinking face back on at Steve's words, but surprisingly says nothing even when Steve nudges his shoulder. "My shift's over anyways, so we can just lay low for the rest of the day until we can talk with El tomorrow."

Eddie's still staring at his hands as he slides out of the seat, watching as the door closes behind the last customer in the shop. "So like, we just go home? That's it? Hope the world doesn't explode?" Eddie glances around the four of them in the midst of his gesturing, Robin joining them at the front of the store.

"Pretty much," Steve says as he bumps Eddie's shoulder in what he hopes is a comforting gesture. "We can't do anything right now, and we don't wanna mess with things more than we already have. The Russians can wait a day for us to get our shit together before we get Owens and Hopper involved," Steve's chest twinges at the reminder that he'll be facing Hopper again after not seeing him for a year. 

"Oh, wait-" Steve starts as he grabs the marker off the whiteboard, grabbing Eddie's arm and flipping it to the blank canvas of his inner forearm instead of the bats adorning the rest. He uncaps the marker with his teeth and starts scrawling as small as he can, Eddie's stare boring into the side of Steve's head as he writes. With a small flourish he caps the pen with one hand and throws it back to the table, keeping Eddie's wrist in a vice grip.

"There. My address and my phone number," Steve tightens his grip and stares back at Eddie. "If anything happens, even if you think it's nothing, you tell me. Call me, find me, whatever. Just tell me," he squeezes Eddie's wrist once more for emphasis before dropping it, but Eddie keeps it held in the air. He ghosts his fingers over Steve's writing before glancing back to Steve, his stare burning. Eddie gives a slow solemn nod and Steve is sent back to just before everything went to shit, when Eddie nodded just like that and said 'make him pay' and fuck Steve tried, but it's never enough, is it. Except this time Eddie's in front of him with his skin intact, and maybe Steve shouldn't believe the nod this time around, but he finds himself swaying into Eddie's space anyways.

During the drive home Steve keeps expecting a gate to open up in the middle of the road that swallows the beemer whole and dumps him back into hell, but despite all of his antsy stares and white knuckling Hawkins remains mundane.

Fatigue sweeps over him easily as soon as the front door is open, Steve only stopping momentarily to grab a beer from the fridge and popping the tab with his teeth as he settles onto the couch. His eyelids blink heavy, the beer quickly forgotten in his hand while the force of sleep continues to pull him under like a hand holding his head underwater. 

Steve's lying in a black room, a thin sheet of water covering the floor. Or maybe he's floating on the surface, he can't tell. The black stretches on in every direction as far as he can see, and what Steve thought were walls continue to be nothing but void as he sits up and reaches for a perimeter. He pushes himself to his feet and tries to grab for a wall again, but still nothing.

A sharp whistling noise starts out small in the back of his head as Steve walks farther from where he was laying, quickly suffocating any other sense of sound and burrowing in behind his eyes. He clutches at his temples as a noiseless scream rips itself from his throat, the whistling carving itself a permanent place in his skull.

There's a pressure at Steve's feet that's working its way around his ankles, leaving behind a trail of cold that seeps into his bones. He manages his eyes open a crack to see the floor shift from water into a swirling mass of vines that writhe and breathe together as one. They swell in the center and slide over each other as they make their way to Steve, streaking Steve's skin with a familiar blackish-blue slime as he struggles to free his legs. 

One of the vines shoots out from the mass covering his feet and latches itself around his wrist, pulling him onto his knees. The vines work their way around his hips and up to his chest with a strange suction that keeps Steve from moving. They pull his arms behind his back and wrap themselves around his wrists and his fingers while one starts the slide up the side of his neck. He tries to scream again but he can't hear past the whistling to tell if it worked. 

The whistling fades into a deep hum, still loud enough to hide any other noise but less piercing to the point that Steve can think again. A scratching sensation weaves itself up his spine and circles around the crown of his head before settling at his ears. The scratch warbles and combines with the deep hum, hissing and choking in his ears as it forms words out of air.

"You don't belong here," it screeches in three different octaves. "But I can use you anyways," Steve yanks against the vines holding his wrists to no avail, glancing between the vines for any sort of gap he can use. He catches a figure off to his right that seems to be another mound of vines writhing over each other, but it's too dark to make out any details. 

"You will make a great addition to my army," Steve is drowning in the hissing and mumbling of the voice, choking on it like smoke and struggling to breathe. The vine that was resting on his neck springs to life and pulls away from his skin with a sharp release, then plunges itself back towards Steve as the tip of the vine splits open into five different segments and latches over Steve's mouth. It's a frigid shock to the system as the slime and suction pulls Steve's conscious into the vine with no air to-

-breathe. Steve's lungs wrack with shuddering breaths as he shoots upright, the beer can falling to the hardwood floor with a crack. His hands fly to grip over his mouth and his neck in search of the vines that were there just a moment ago. His tremor ridden fingers find nothing, despite the rotten and gritty taste that's lingering on his tongue. 

He stumbles up from the couch and into the kitchen, hitting the door on the way in his frantic stupor. Steve wastes no time scooping tap water into his mouth to rinse out the foul taste that -while probably a phantom taste- plagues his senses nonetheless. He's gulping down his fifth mouthful of water when the phone rings.

Steve rounds the kitchen counter and pulls the phone off the stand, not entirely sure if his voice will come when he calls.

"Steve?" Eddie's voice is timid and shaky on the other side, matching Steve's own tremor. It takes Steve two tries to form words around his tongue.

"Eddie? What's wrong?"

"I-" Steve hears Eddie swallow over the line, can hear the ragged panic in his voice, too. "I had a dream."

_____

TAG LIST (reply to be added): @estrellami-1 @melodymeddler @songbird-garden @gregre369 @croatoan-like-its-hot @messrs-weasley @bestwifehaver @mediguro @goodolefashionedloverboi @huniiibee @rhyswritesreadsandcries @i-have-three-feelings @mightbeasleep @grtwdsmwhr @hirikka @starlight-archer @clumsiluni @celestialrebel1

[slothgiirl]

the trashpile: dympna devers

reader runs into dymphna while picking up some groceries. is cleaning out her dead alcoholic fathers place (who probs did drugs too,,mb?). she gets annoyed and snaps at him and he thinks its hot bc everyone else just does what he wants them too

reader takes a walk pretty late because shes sad that her dad died and even tho they had no relationship its like now theres no way he’ll get better and be a dad, hes just gone. dymphna pulls up in his car, tells her to get in, he’ll drive her back. she doesnt want to. he gets out of the car, leaving it running and talks her into taking a ride with her. (he was trying to be friendly in his own obnoxious grandiose way) they end up parking and drinking together and then they fuck. he complains shes prissy bc uni. reader comments uni is just fucking and going to class for exams. “maybe i shouldve gone to uni then?”

reader starts taking her dads stuff to donation centers. breaks apart the table and tries to figure out if she should just leave it on the curb or take it all the way there. takes a break outside, trying to work through the complicated emotions she has over his death. dymphna spots her and is like i can call arm to help u and shes all like oh why dont u just help urself, thinking hes sort of spoiled in the same way the posh girls at her boarding school were even though hes a pretty trashy wanna be gangster. hes all “id help with the right incentive” she tells him to fuck off but ends up blowing him (and getting him to help).

dymphna takes reader to bar. they play pool and he messes with her. reader notices ppl r looking at her and the way they treat him and she wasnt born yesterday like she knows what it means to be a devers but idk shes into his confident aggression. they have drinks and dymphna ditches arm to go fuck the reader back at his. readers like um dont ditch ur friend? but lets it go quick. wakes up alone and his sisters r like “u came out of nowhere” being bitchy and sussing reader out

reader runs into arm and his family. is not surprised his son is on the spectrum and offers to have her mom write a letter of recommendation so she can get the job at the school in Cork. “ur dymphna’s woman.” “hardly, think i'd remember agreeing to that” 

dymphna shows up at her house late at night and makes a fuss until she opens up. they fuck and he learns she handles customer complaints for some websites (compsci major) reader tries to make appointment to sell house but ends up delaying (still mourning her loss). dymphna takes her out for breakfast. 

reader wakes up at his house. this time dymphna is there and reader complains about the mold in the bathroom. they all give her shit for it and dymphna tells arm to figure that out but readers all no dont- charlie asks if its true she went to uni and reader says yeah, it was a bitch but i finished as dymphna pulls her onto his lap to watch tv. she means to get up and leave but feels comfortable and realizes she has a lot of feelings for him

theres a party at the devers and reader and charlie find a corner and nurse a beer while charlie wonders if she might go to uni. reader goes to get another drink and sees dymphna and his uncle doing coke. reader passes on the coke (not stupid). dymphna makes introductions and his uncle comments its probably best she doesnt do coke (look at ursula) reader snaps that its not anyones fault and his uncle is like uve got lip (control ur woman) and dymphna tells her to shut the fuck up yeah babe? reader gets annoyed and goes to bed (when she should just leave) 

reluctantly cleans the bathroom bc fuck shes not using anything when she can see mold and grime built up (scale i think its called on tile?). complains to dymphna that hes a big fish small pond but still takes his uncles shit and dymphna yells at her getting pissed off that she doesnt understand how business is done. throw things at each other and fuck. after he talks about family and stuff (heavy implication he wants her to be his wife) ill take care of u. reader: i make 80k i dont need anyone

theres some party where ppl get pissed drunk. reader doesnt like dymphna getting high and drunk. it reminds her of her father only her dad got comatose and dymphna gets short tempered and somehow even more wild. charlie and reader hide out in her room. charlie mentions sooner or later he’ll come looking for her and readers like ill kick his arse. charlie laughs and asks if reader will help her with her schoolwork. totally. charlie: i thought u were leaving tho reader: idk anymore. finnigan stumbles in and reader tells charlie to go and throws a bottle at the man but misses. he pins her down on the bed but she manages to grab the lamp and smash it on his head. reader is shaking when dymphna comes in to see what the fuck is going on. reader is like “help me take care of this” he agrees. (shes way more hardcore and cool than he is)

reader has arm and dymphna make it look like finnigan was drunk and drove himself off a cliff. arm drives them back into town. dymphna holds reader close. “we take care of each other” “yeah” 

notes: charlie goes to uni and breaks the cycle. reader and dymphna have their weird toxic codependent relationship and reader eventually takes over the family business

[ridiasfangirlings]

sarumi's teacher gets sick of them and sits them apart, but saru and misaki keep looking at each other and laughing for no reason. the teacher even has to walk them out of the classroom at some point to ask whats going on and saru is like "its misaki's fault, he keeps looking at me".

Oh come on they’re not five year old— actually, no, you know what they are absolutely five year olds XD Imagine the teacher finally gets sick of Yata kicking out whoever’s supposed to be sitting in front of Fushimi, Yata’s clearly never going to learn anything sitting there and besides they’re the only two in the class flaunting the assigned seat order. Fushimi acts like he doesn’t really care, it was stupid Misaki who kept sitting here anyway it’s not my problem, but Yata’s all annoyed because the rest of the class is boring, how’s he supposed to get through a whole class without Saruhiko right there.

The teacher ignores his complaints and orders him to sit in his proper assigned seat. Yata glumly goes over and switches back with the guy who was supposed to be in front of Fushimi. Fushimi’s already ignoring the whole class and Yata thinks that’s boring too, I bet Saruhiko doesn’t want to be here either. That’s when Fushimi looks up at him, carefully, like he’s trying not to let Yata see. Yata gets this big grin and then he makes a funny face in Fushimi’s direction. Fushimi rolls his eyes but also gives the smallest snicker and that’s really all the encouragement Yata needs. 

The teacher is trying to teach but soon he hears Yata just constantly loudly giggling, doing a horrible job of covering it up. The teacher tries to ignore him but finally he snaps and tells Yata and Fushimi to stay after class. Afterward the teacher sternly asks what they were doing, Fushimi shrugs and says it wasn’t anything and Yata’s like hey you were laughing too. The teacher says that Yata was clearly the one laughing and Fushimi again says it wasn’t his fault, Yata kept looking at him. Yata says it’s both their fault then and the teacher says that even if Fushimi wasn’t laughing he’s clearly part of this. Yata’s about to say ‘but Saruhiko was laughing too’ but then he cuts off — clearly Fushimi was laughing but only Yata noticed and somehow he doesn’t really want to tell anyone else, so that he can keep the sight of Fushimi’s laughing face all to himself. 

[phoenixfangs]

>:3c fandom askies for aa, depending on your Mood

Salty: 1, 8, 10, 25

Neutral: 16

Posi: 17, 18

JAJAJAJAJAJAJA pepper coming in clutch as always, and u KNOW im gonna do all of them, mood be damned. going under a readmore because i rambled!!

the character everyone gets wrong

maybe its a boring answer but phoenix. good god do people just Not understand him. i think the fact weve seen him in so many forms (feenie, trilogy, 7yg, aa5/6) makes it hard for people to get a pin on him, but thats the thing: u cant really get a pin on someone like that. too often i see stuff where, well into his thirties and having gotten his badge back, people portray him as just as outwardly emotional (and sometimes emotionally volatile...) as he was when he was dating dahlia, and Thats Simply Not The Case, especially after how guarded and jaded he became during aa4. hes SUCH a complicated character i cant even go into specifics and try to give other examples, because they each require paragraphs of their own explaining context and nuance in what goes through his head. i dont know how else to go on, just know that i am the only person who is correct about phoenix wright, and if anyone requires consultations for fic or art, my fee is steep but fair

8. common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about

all of them. no im kidding, uhhhhh hm. i guess that klavier and apollo Immediately knew they liked each other/were attracted to each other and spent any time pining for the others affection during aa4. i like klapollo as a ship, i just dont think klav teasing apollo with flirtation when they first meet means he was Seriously Flirting with apollo, i think its possible there was a base physical attraction but he was mostly just trying to get apollos goat for fun since he was a rookie attorney. and because of that, what reason does apollo have to be drawn to klavier? apollo isnt some stock tsundere, i think he probably was really annoyed by klavier and Didnt Like Him All That Much at first. plus, with aa4s story being what it is, i just dont think any romantic feelings are on either of their minds until well after the last case. with their ship, i like to imagine they start as professional adversaries (not rivals in the sense phoenix and miles are rivals, its a different vibe), then become friends, THEN graduate to exploring other feelings

10. worst part of fanon

all of it. no im kidding, the worst part of fanon is how rigidly people expect u to obey it. if u dont portray miles as a gay trans man, people look at u weird, for example. which isnt to say that its Bad to follow that fanon, obviously i also think hes gay (i dont personally headcanon him as trans though) but just that it is fanon. until we get concrete proof in a game or anime or what have u of miles demonstrating or naming his sexuality/gender expression, it is just as perfectly valid to portray him as a cishet man as it is to portray him as a gay trans man, even if i personally think its weird and impossible to imagine him with a girlfriend or something. its fine to have different interpretations of whatever; its Not fine to get mad at somebody because theyre not following fanon that u personally ascribe to

25. common fandom complaint that ur sick of hearing

'i dont read wlw content because its all the same :( why are all the mean lesbians getting so mad that my mlm ship is just better :( its not my fault those stupid broads arent written as well as my spicy yaoi :( what do u mean one half of my mlm ship is a lamp ur just being mean to a mlm because ur bitter that ur stupid bitches arent written as well as my mlm gay disaster babies :( stop bullying me for no reason u crazy psycho cunt this is why nobody gives a shit enough about ur dumbass wlw ship to make anything for it :('

obviously nothing wrong with mlm ships, i have been known to enjoy many mlm ships! but when a wlw (particularly a lesbian...) complains about the disproportionate amount of mlm fan content between characters who literally never spoke, stood next to each other once, or where one of them is literally Not A Character (clay terran is a prop i am not wrong about that), its SO FRUSTRATING to see the response be someone taking it as a personal attack and throwing the blame back out at wlw for not just shutting up and dealing with it. that post that showed among us had significantly more mlm fics over wlw fics on ao3 when Those Stupid Creatures Dont Even Have Gender/Character applies to like literally every other fandom

16. u cant understand why so many people like this thing (characterization, trope, headcanon, etc.)

any situation in which phoenix depends on miles for money during 7yg. similarly, royalty/medieval au where phoenix is some kind of servant to prince miles, and yes being a knight counts as being a servant in my mind. these two things feel wayyyyy imbalanced to me but in fanworks theyre portrayed as like necessary and appreciated by phoenix (in the money situation) or really romantic (in the royalty/medieval situation). idk, to me, phoenix would rather saw off his own arm and eat it than accept money, especially from miles, during 7yg, and if he did accept it it would only be because miles says 'let me do this for trucy then if ur gonna be so stubborn about it' and he Begrudgingly Agrees; with phoenix being miless knight, it just feels too much like people seeing phoenixs one-sided devotion to miles in aa1 and going 'this is normal and desirable behavior', and idk how to tell people this but phoenixs savior complex over miles is Not Good fjkdsjlfslak like it worked out for them but i dont think phoenixs behavior towards miles in aa1 especially is indicative of a well adjusted, emotionally stable person, and that hardly ever gets talked about its just 'wee wah hes soooo in luuuuurve isnt that romantic'

17. there should be more of this type of fic/art

siblingsssss there are so many good sibling pairs/groups in aa. also wlw ship stuff In General because there is never enough in any fandom. also also (because i love to kick the hornets nest) more fic where the intention is to Tell An Actual Story With The Characters instead of projecting the authors trauma and/or kinks and/or personality onto the characters where it doesnt fit ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

18. its absolutely criminal that the fandom has been sleeping on...

idk if krisnix counts as slept on because ive only been in the fandom for a couple years, i know things were different like 10-15 years ago and maybe it was more popular then, but. krisnix. jfkdsjfls. there is soooooooo much narrative drama u can cook up with these two, so many scenarios and angles, and uve got 7 whole years to fill!! and u can be as serious and somber as u want, going into mental health and toxic relationships and what it means to spend so much of ur life with someone who is so bad for u but letting go isnt easy because thats years of ur life with that person ur being asked to let go of, OR u can be silly and say that kristoph is christian grays lawyersona, because come on i dare anyone to try and tell me kristoph Isnt Also the worlds worst dom

[storiesofsvu]

Classified Affairs Ch 8

Heather Dunbar x fem!reader Warnings: language, alcohol consumption, mommy kink. Covers the “Chosen Last” by Sara Kays square for fall bingo.

The pub was absolutely fucking slammed. It was Friday night, the t.v’s were split between a hockey game and a football game, maybe both playoffs? You really didn’t know.

What you did know was that nearly everybody was in the weeds, yourself included. You’d been granted a supervisory position over the past couple of weeks which meant on top of running your own section or bartending, you also had to deal with a ton of customer complaints, or servers needing discounts, deleted items, or anything else off the computer. Honestly, you were thankful this was the second job that Heather didn’t know about, between her wanting your service, and wanting you to not be stressed? She’d hate coming here. You were in the midst of helping out the bar, pouring draft to help them get up to speed when a small voice called out.

“Y/N may I?!” Your eyes shot up to Becca, one of the newest girls the pub had, and one that you’d trained, at the POS, “I can’t find the button for white sangria!” She looked absolutely flustered, and honestly, you knew the feeling, you’d been there way too many times before. You finished pouring the beer, plopping it on the bar by its chit and moved over where she was.

“What do you need babe?”

“They want a jug of the white sangria, it’s not under cocktails?”

“I know.” You gave her shoulder a soft squeeze, “our POS is fucking crap and it makes no sense, okay? I’ve been here nearly ten years and I still can’t find shit. Check under white wine.” You gestured to the menu button watching as she hit it and her eyes glazed through the menu, finally finding the proper button.

“Oh god I’m so fucking stupid.”

“No!” You warned her, giving her half a glare, “you are not. If any guest says shit, you tell them it’s your first day, you hear me?”

“But I’ve been here two weeks.”

“They don’t know that.” You tossed her a smirk, “and if anyone pushes anywhere past that, or you need any help with anything, you call me, okay? I know this is your first serving job, and all things considered, tonight might be a bit of a mess. Consult with me if you think someone needs to be cut off, alright?”

“Okay.” She nodded, “thank you!”

She darted off immediately and honestly, you were a little worried about all of the new kids at work. There hadn’t been a busy night where the drinks were constantly flowing since any of them had started and tonight was a shit show, even to a pro like you. You glanced to the bar, it seemed to be doing alright at their drink times, so you ducked back to the kitchen, spending sometime expoing and running food for a few hours before returning to the front of house.

Things finally seemed to be slightly settling down, though people were still racing through the pub like no tomorrow. At least the food service side of things seemed to have slowed down, and it was focussed on mainly drinks. You popped back behind the bar, helping out there where you could, and kept an eye on the servers. It was only a few drinks into your assistance that you noticed Becca at a table, where clearly someone wasn’t happy. And it wasn’t some college kid, it was some woman who clearly shouldn’t have been in a pub on a fucking Friday if she wanted her meal to be perfect.

You managed to swoop in at the perfect time, the perfect yet completely fake smile on your face as you ushered Becca away from the table, asking what the problem was. You listened, nodding along to the woman’s complaints, internally rolling your eyes as she complained about shit that not only wasn’t the pubs fault, but definitely wasn’t Becca’s fault. You instead, apologized for everything, saying you would take the meal off her bill and offered her something else in place of it. The woman simply scoffed with an eye roll, saying she would rather eat at an IHOP than here and you took that with a very sarcastic smile, instantly settling their bill for them before they left.

With a huff and roll of your eyes you glanced around the room to find Becca, considering you need to pass off the debit slip. Instead, you were met with a sea of people that didn’t include her, though things were finally starting to calm down as both the games ended. You managed to settle a couple more bills from her section before getting worried that she’d bailed or something. It wouldn’t be the first time one of the newer kids had walked out, hell, even people who had been there for years had walked out mid shift.

Instead, you rounded into the back, preparing to knock on the staff bathrooms when you nearly ran into her coming out of dry storage. She had a pack of napkins in her hand, clearly ready to do some roll ups when her eyes widened and you could tell they were rimmed with red, there was no doubt she had been crying.

“You okay?” You asked softly, giving her shoulder a soft squeeze.

“I’m fine.” She shoved it off, moving past you to the roll up station.

“Becca…” you nearly warned, “shit happens okay? What did those cunts say to you?

“That I was an incompetent server and deserved to be fired.” She did her best to hold back but the tears leaked out of her eyes and you felt your heart clench, having been there yourself more than once over the years. You instinctively pulled her into a tight hug, your hands rubbing at her back.

“People are fucking assholes. And I’m sorry you had to deal with those bitches tonight. You really didn’t deserve to. Honestly, you’re the best of the new servers we have, so whatever these assholes say, don’t believe it. Okay?”

“But..” the dam broke and she shivered as the tears started to roll over her cheeks.

“No…no!” You wrapped your arms around her in a tight hug, “those cunts don’t deserve your tears, you hear me?” Your hug pulled her right against you, letting her cry into your shoulder, “I know it’s a shit thing to say but. ..you’ll get used to it. You build a thick skin and soon enough those dicks won’t bother you. And believe me….Becca you are way better than the dicks we have coming in here on a regular basis.”

“Really?” She glanced up at you with tears eyes and you smoothed back a piece of her hair.

“Yes.” You smiled. Giving her shoulder a squeeze, “we’ve all been there, trust me. Even after ten years I still like to have a little cry or scream in the walk in. Take a few minutes, calm yourself down. Go stand in the freezer, or take a wine carafe and smash it out by the dumpster. Let it all out, I’ll cover your section.”

“For real?”

“Yeah babe.” You shot her a smile, “I know what it’s like to be a newbie, I’m not gonna let you crash. Go do your thing.”

You took the packet of napkins from her, nudging her in the direction of the back door and freezer, letting out a soft sigh as she followed you direction. Becca had been one of your trainees and on her first day you knew she was going to be one of the good ones. She had incredible work ethic, was always on time and tried her hardest to make sure things were done right. You didn’t know much else about her, work taking priority over personal conversation so far through the couple of weeks that she’d been training. She definitely had it in her to make a wonderful server, and you wanted to see that through, and make sure assholes didn’t upset her enough to make her want to quit.

*

The shift was finally over, the bar having been cleared out of customers while you finished wrapping things up, cleaning the last of tables and making sure dishes were being done. You dropped a few of the cash outs with the first few server who were ready before dropping your own from the bar, stuffing your tips into your wallet and pouring yourself a cider. Perched at the end of the bar you pulled open your Apple Watch app, making sure your food log was fully up to date, and checking your activity stats for the day. You were checking the other notifications on your phone when Becca popped up,

“My section’s clear, can I drop?”

“Yeah.” You glanced up, triple checking her tables were done as you hopped from the stool, leading her back to the office. “How was the rest of your night? Sorry I couldn’t help out more, the bar got fucking slammed.”

“It’s okay.” She let out a little sigh, settling into one of the chairs as you flicked on the computer quickly to record her sales. “I mean I made it through.”

“You sold almost four grand, Jesus. You at least make good money?”

“Yeah. Which is good because I’ve got another slew of textbooks I need to pick up for university.”

“What’re you taking?”

“Sociology.”

“Sweet.” You signed off on her cash out, dropping it into the safe, “I took journalism, let me know if you get stuck on any classes, I think there’s a bunch that overlap.”

“Oh…thank you. Honestly I might end up changing my major, I’m just trying to figure things out right now.”

“Hey, I changed majors like three times, it’ll work itself out, don’t worry.” You gave her a quick once over as you stood, guiding her out of the office, “how old are you again?”

“Twenty three.” You could’ve sworn she blushed when she answered. She was fucking adorable, that was for sure.

“You want a shift beer?”

“Oh, I don’t drink beer.”

“It can be anything in a bottle or can.” You laughed, “we’ve got cider and a few kinds of coolers if that’s more your style.”

“Can I try one of those peach coolers?”

“Course.” You swung back behind the bar, marking it down and sliding the can across to her. “So..” you leant against the bar, your hand seeking out your glass of cider as you faced Becca, “I know you’re new to this, and that you’re in school…what else should I know? Tell me about yourself?” You could sense that Becca was someone who needed a bit of encouragement to open up and be comfortable, and you knew that those things would help with her finding her confidence with tables and drunk patrons.

“Oh..uh…” she ducked her gaze, distracting herself with a sip of her drink while she thought it over, and honestly, her stomach was doing somersaults. “I dunno?” Her brow furrowed as she glanced up at you, “I live on campus…”

“You from here?” You asked, your attention half on putting glassware away as you continued your conversation.

“Born and raised.” She sighed, taking another sip of her drink.

“You just prefer to be closer to campus then?”

“I…uh…kinda hate my family?” She winced, daring a glance up at you, “maybe not hate but like…I need to escape a bit.”

“I feel that.” You turned back to her, having now shut off the dishwasher, your attention fully on her, “family can be a fucking bitch sometimes. Know that you’re not obligated to spend time with them or give them the time of day, you don’t owe them shit, just because they raised you? Fucking bullshit.”

“Thanks.” She shot you a small grin, “my brother’s not too bad honestly, he gets it…but my parents are…”

“The worst?” You finished for her with a small smile.

“Yeah.” She sighed again, taking a heftier drink of her cooler, “every family gathering I think sometimes I would rather stay home than show up to be ignored and alone.”

“Family can be the fucking worst.” You assured her, reaching out to squeeze at her hand.

“Do you still talk to yours?”

“Nope.” You huffed, taking a swig of cider, “Mom died when I was six, Dad kicked me out and cut me off at sixteen when he found out I was gay.”

“Oh god…” her eyes widened, but she couldn’t deny the way her heart picked up at the knowledge that you batted for the same team.

“It wasn’t that bad.” You shrugged, “my Aunt took me in for a few years, helped me out ‘til I was in college and had a job. I mean…she wasn’t the best, but…it helped.”

“I just kinda hate that we’re stuck with them for life, ya know?” She raised a glance to you, “like…every time I have to see them I don’t speak my mind, I just sit and listen, just…suck it up and get it over with. I don’t have a clue why I’m at all the birthday parties when I’m not close to anybody.”

“I mean, you could stop going.” You suggested, “working the service industry is the easiest way out of that shit. I haven’t seen a long weekend in over five fucking years, even if you’re not scheduled, just say you are and bam…no family holiday dinners anymore.”

Becca laughed, taking a hearty swig of her drink, “aren’t you in charge of scheduling?”

“I mean…I can’t get you out of Christmas since we’re closed but everything else? You’re my go to.”

“Perfect.” She laughed. Noting as your attention got pulled to your phone as it vibrated against the bar top. A text from Heather,

‘Glad to see you had more than just chicken nuggets today.’

‘It was a hectic night, but yes M’am.’ You replied with a small grin on your face, feeling Becca’s eyes on you.

“Girlfriend?” She asked softly, and you sighed.

“Uh..no…just a watchful friend.” You smiled, shoving your phone back into your pants pocket.

Heather obviously wasn’t your girlfriend, although her agreement did come with the stipulation of you not seeing anyone else. You understood it for health reasons, but also, she really only requested you not sleep with anyone else. Her restrictions were more so to keep the two of you, and thus, her marriage, safe. You wondered briefly if you were allowed to date, exploring the more soft side of relationships before things turned sexual.

“Oh fuck!” Becca swore suddenly, jumping off the stool, “the last train comes in five.”

“Whoa!” You held out a hand, “whoa! Babe! It’s fucking one thirty in the morning, you are not taking the train!”

“But…it’s the easiest way back to campus.”

“Without a car, maybe.” You laughed, “I’ll drive you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. There is no way I’m letting one of my girls take fucking public transit home after a night of work and when it’s this late? At least call and uber or a cab.”

“I guess…I was just trying to save some cash?”

“I feel you.” You tossed her a smile, “finish your drink, I’ve got a couple of things to wrap up and then are you good to go?”

“Yeah.” She shot you a very eager smile as you swiped your cider from the bar to finish up the night report in the office.

It only took a little bit for you to be finished with what was needed as you passed off the appropriate reports to the manager that was on shift. You had a brief chat about how the night went, and things that you thought could go better next time, and then bid them a goodnight. It was halfway down the hall as you were picking up your bag and getting ready to leave that your phone pinged again

‘You’re usually home by now kitten.’

‘It’s this whole supervisor position, I’ve got more crap to deal with at the end of the night, but I’m done now.’

‘So I should expect you in fifteen?’

‘Twenty to thirty? One of the new girls needs a ride home. I’m sorry to keep you waiting M’am.’

‘It’s no worry. Your stats are good, you were a wonderful pet this week. I’ll be waiting’

Your breath nearly caught in your throat at her words, knowing that she was likely already at your condo. Honestly, you were pretty exhausted already, but Heather usually had a bottle of wine waiting for you when you arrived home to help you relax, so you weren’t too worried.

You picked up Becca at the bar, leading her to your car, slipping into the front seat, dropping your phone into the cup holder.

“Guess I should’ve checked what campus you’re at.” You laughed as you peeled out of the parking spot.

“Oh…right.” She laughed, “Howard.”

“That’s what I was hoping.” You laughed in return, turning the right direction as you made your way onto the street.

“Did you go to Howard?” Becca asked and you nodded.

“Yeah. It was decent….didn’t do much for connecting me with a career but obviously that differs between fields. So don’t let that get you down.”

The University was just around the corner from the bar, so it didn’t take you long to reach Becca’s dorm. You followed her directions to make sure you were right at her door before you bid her goodnight, reminding her that you were more than able to pick her up or drop her off whenever she needed or wanted.

You let out a soft sigh, the exhaustion seeping into your bones as you shifted the car into gear to drive back to your condo. Once parked you stepped into the elevator, part of you wished that Heather wasn’t still there, that she’d gotten bored and gone back home. Instead you let out another huff when you let yourself into your apartment, seeing her on your couch, half distracted by the t.v before she glanced your way.

“For what they’re paying you? They’re overworking you.” She commented.

“For what its worth, they did give me a raise.” You huffed back, dropping your bag onto the kitchen island.

“Everything alright?” She raised a brow, her attention now fully on you.

“Yeah…I’m just…honestly..I’m exhausted. I’m really sorry M’am…I really don’t think I have it in me tonight.”

“Well then why don’t you get changed into pyjamas? Shower if you want to. I have a nice bottle of wine waiting for you, you’ve got the t.v in your room after all.”

“Thank you.” You urged, disappearing into your room briefly as you changed and wiped off your makeup, returning to the open area of the apartment for you collect your things with a small yawn.

“I know you had a stir fry for dinner, but when was the last time you ate?” Heather asked as she stood from the couch, flicking off the t.v.

“Bout ten p.m, someone fucked up and there was an extra Caesar wrap.” You mumbled, running a hand over your face.

“Oh kitten…” she cupped your cheek gently, “you really are exhausted, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.” Your cheek nodded in her hand, “I know you wanted to play….”

“It’s alright.” She ducked to press a kiss to your lips, “you need rest.” She nudged you further into the bedroom, “would you like a glass of wine?”

“Please.” You asked, slipping into bed and burying yourself under the covers.

“I can’t stay long, but I’ll give you the best I can before leaving.” She smirked, slipping onto the bed beside you as she handed you the glass of wine.

“Thank you.” You smiled, “I’m honestly surprised you were even here tonight.”

“Well I’ve got to make sure my kitten is taken care of, don’t I?” She replied with a smirk and your cheeks flushed, avoiding her gaze as you nearly buried into her arms. “Do you have a current series we should go to or should we find a movie?”

“A series please.” You sucked back a large sip of wine, “I don’t think I can stay awake long enough to make it through a movie.”

“Alright.” Her hand flicked through the remote, finding one that you could both enjoy for a little bit as you finished your wine. About halfway through the first episode you spoke again,

“May I ask you something?” You tilted your head up on her shoulder to face her.

“Of course.” She replied with a small smile.

“Your…husband….what is it that he does? To not realize you’re gone all the time?”

“Mmhmm.” She chuckled softly, “he’s a doctor, a surgeon, he does a lot of long shifts, overnight shifts, and he knows what politics is like. I don’t want you to ever worry about him kitten.” She pressed a soft kiss to your forehead and you hummed.

“Okay.” You let out a happy sigh, burying deeper into the pillows and Heather laughed again. It didn’t take long before you were completely out. You fell asleep with her arms lazily draped around you, her lips pressing soft kisses to your skin every so often. Though it wasn’t long after you were finally asleep that Heather pressed a kiss to your forehead, slipping out of the bed. After all, she did have a home to return tonight.

_________ @lesbianologist @screenee @disaster-and-disgrace @jamiethetrans @natasha-danvers @veteranwerewolf95 @laurenhope13 @imlike-so-gaydude @svulife-rl @gay-ass-bitch @oliviaswifey @mysticfalls01 @cmmndrwidw @bumblebear30 @paulson-hargitay @molllss @snowsgay19 @solemnnova @svushots @nocreditinthestraightworld @yourtaletotell @cerberus-spectre @thatgaygiraffesquirrelgirl @emskisworld @ex-uallyactive @addictedtodinosaurs @rosiewritesagain @imaginaryoperagloves @wandasbrat @lustvolle-liebe @disn3y7 @samwithnoplan @multifandomlesbianic @swimmingstudentchaos891 @anne-gillettes-wh0r3 @season4scullyhair @whimsicallymad @alexusonfire @mmmmokdok @lazarettta @muscatmusic18 @sia2raw @ladysc @dxtery @Awkwardreadera

[kunimikat]

hi! i'm having a hard time mentally lately and i recently found out that i kind of erm,,,,, when my mental health is really bad my brain is like "no!😀" and skyrockets me into absolute baby mode and just want cuddles and love and i feel really lonely and don't talk a lot. bokuto is my comfort character so if you woudlnt mind could you do some headcanons or whatever you want- about him helping? feel free to ignore this i know it's a bit strange💔 but i thought i'd throw it out there :) 💞

I really hope it gets better for you, I hope my shitty HCs somehow makes your day a little better. Lots of love 🥺🤲❤️oh and this might’ve come off more angsty but I promise I put fluff at the end. And listen to this while reading cause it just makes this- 💔🦟🦗🦟🦗❤️

Requests are open! And if you have requests like this I’m happy to do them :)

Also proof read but still might be mistakes.sorry, there might be some triggering things in here, but there is nothing crazy so I think it’s ok 🧍

Before you guys even got together he’d always check up on you.

To the point were he subconsciously did it anywhere, and anytime

He’d give you small owl knickknacks or a snack before school started, or when it ended. Making sure you ate something that day.

Or he’d just try to make you laugh as much as he could during then

But sometimes he’d drop everything, and just give you a tight hug. Anywhere, no matter who it was in front of. Holding you close to him, not saying anything but you could hear him tripping over the words he wanted to say but just couldn’t.

He could tell it was a bad day where you’d come in and just sit on the benches or bleachers with both in mind but staring at the bright fluorescent gym lights. Where you’d just zone out mid-conversation and look at your feet or phone in disinterest. When you’d throw in a sarcastic self-deprecation joke when someone would ask if you’re ok.

Or when you’d have days where you’d stay up studying, doing your homework, and not sleeping for who knows how long when you come in with the energy drink in hand. Or the days when you’d get nothing done, and just sleep everything away and just deal with it the next day.

It didn’t take a therapist or a mastermind to tell you weren’t ok.

The nervous tics, the small lip bites, the impulsive “Let’s do something and think about consequences later!”

Bokuto knew he was just like the latter but at least it wasn’t all the time, so when he saw his bestfriend and crush slowly killing themselves mentally (and maybe physically, he was hoping not), yet cracking jokes about it the next second. All he wanted to do was run in and kiss you until all you felt was loved.

He just wanted to see you happy again

He felt like fainting everytime he saw you giggle or laugh at his antics(knowing Bokuto that has probably happened)

Or when you and Ahgkaaashi would hang out with him at the Owl section of the Zoo and pick out your favorite ones

When you two would try cooking some dish either of you couldn even try pronouncing and it ending in a mess. One he didn’t mind cleaning up when he got to talk to you throughout the whole time.

The times you’d have to turn in your work a little late because you were helping Bokuto cope after losing a game, which he felt bad about but you brushed it off with a genuine smile saying “I can’t leave poor Akaashi with Bokuemo for the rest of the week can I?” “H-Hey!”

When you and Bokuto would hang out in the bird themed cafe on the end of the street from school. And just be yourselves without having to impress anyone.

How you excuse yourself from the group of people you barely knew the names of, to go cry in the bathroom then come back as if nothing happened.

Times where you both forget your in highschool with insecurities, voice cracks, stress, and having to make a decision regarding the rest of your life by the end of it. And just laying in some random parking lot, staring into the blaring street lamp light and the stars behind it.

Bokuto loved it when you didn’t use the jokes to cover up how you felt. Or how you jumped to another subject when he would ask. When you tell him everything you’re feeling.,

The confusion, the way you didn’t know why your mind worked the way it did and why you felt horrible all of a sudden but fine the next.

You wanted it to stop, to have an explanation for the way you think and why. Yet now you’re telling no one, and clearly holding it in. Bokuto was now watching you letyour emotions eat you alive from the inside out.

He just wanted the you he knew. The you that he had so many fun memories with. Not the forced persona you played when you needed a cover up for how you truly felt.

This wasn’t the way he wanted to confess but it was getting all too much for Bokuto to watch,

Bokuto’s tears were streaming down his face as he had you held out in front of him. His body was trembling and his grasp was so shaky it was easy to break away. But you knew you could ever do that to him, or yourself. He clenched his jaw , not being able to lock eyes with you, a painful tug at his heart everytime he locked eyes with your hopeless look. You felt tears brimming your eyes yet you didn’t even know why he sat you down here. But you felt it was your fault, so immediately you let out a ‘Sorry-‘

Instead of an answer Bokuto pulled you toward him, pushing your head into the crook of his neck. You let out a choked noise as surprise, instinctively wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Why...why’re you saying sorry Y/N? I should be saying sorry for not helping you, I-“

Bokuto lost his breath for a second as a silent sob wracked his body, bringing you closer to him. Tears were falling down from your eyes but you could barely feel them as they became a stream.

“Y/N, I love you, I love you so, so much. Why are you doing this to yourself? You know you could come talk to me, I-I’m not the the best therapist but,-“

He let out a shaky breath, pulling you back out to look at you directly. You squeezed his arm that was holding you, reassuring him you felt the same way, but also to go on. Puffy eyes and a tear stained face looked at you sternly. “Please, please don’t keep these feelings to yourself Y/N. It hurts, it hurts me so much when I see you like this. Especially since you feel like you can’t come to me. I-, I-“

Bokuto bit his lip, clenching his eyes tight, forcing the tears that were already threatening to fall out. “I don’t want to see you like this. I love you, I love you.”The only thing lacing his tone is the sincerity in it.

He says it again to make sure you understood every word that came from him. But he didn’t need to. His grip so tight on your arms it almost hurt. But in a way, you didn’t mind it as it showed you how much more serious this was to him.

“You have me, Kaashi, the team, and honestly anyone! We all love you and what you have to say!”

You both give small shaky laughs, despite the situation, the tension slowly melting. He wipes the tears that were flowing down your cheeks, kissing each one after he did. You held each one of his hand. Squeezing them to give yourself courage, and to know this was all too real.

“Bokuto...I’m so sorry to you and everyone else. I- I locked myself away because I thought I would be bothering you and everyone and could just get over it then push the feelings down. But now seeing you...seeing you so much...pain, someone I love hurt because of me. I...I really realize how I was affecting everyone.”

Bokuto tried denying but you shook your head, your eyes that were looking down were now up at him.

“I’ve come to reality especially after seeing you like this Bo, I love you too, and I want to make it up to you this whole week! No, month...year? Whatever. I’ll be better for our future. And you know what, why don’t I help you with that math homework so we’re both gonna get better at something by the end of the week!”

Laugher filled the once cold room with a feeling of warmth that you couldn’t explain. Bokuto leaned in and gave a small peck. You were about to give a small hum in happiness. Until he pulled far back away from you in panic.

“I-Is something wrong Bo? Does my breath stink-“

“N-NONONO NOTHING LIKE THAT. ITS JUST...I just kissed you without asking...a-and I read in a magazine you’re supposed to do that or your crush won’t like you back!”

Silence.

But you interrupted it with your laughter, holding onto to one of his shoulders to not fall over. He had a confused look on his face as he fidgeted, not knowing what to do. “Y-Y/N! What?”

“You’re so stupid Bo,”

And like that you pulled him into a kiss, one he quickly melted into. He made a small surprised noise, but that was the only noise of complaint. The kiss turned into Bokuto giving you pecks all over your face. A giddy feeling in your stomach with each one. Between the kisses you say “Y’know I’m surprised you decided to sit down and read a magazine without testing on the real deal.” His face has a small flush, instead of saying anything he just kisses you aggressively all over, causing you to reel back and laugh harder. He pulls away from the assault and grabs your hand. He leads you over to the couch and hugs you as you both flop onto the couch. You looked at him confused, “Bo?”

But he just turned the TV on, clicked through the channels, until he found one he liked. He looked over at you excitedly, “Let’s cuddle and watch the movie I was talking about last week!”

The genuine excitement in his voice was all it took to have you wrapped around his finger. So now it was getting late and you were falling asleep to Bokuto gently rubbing his hand in circles on your back. And his faint smell of cologne luring you to sleep.

Hey! Sorry if this is on the shorter side, but I tried packing as much emotion as I could into it to make up. I hope you enjoyed this, cause I added a few of my little issues into it so I hope you don’t mind. (Also along with some people ik) I really hope it gets better for you, hopefully by now even though this came out late (sorry really busy this month for some reason🧍) if you need anyone to talk to I’m always open to hear❤️..

[ethanesimp]

WHEN YOU’RE GONE // D.D.

Pairing: Mob Boss! Damiano David x Mob GN! Reader (it was originally written with a fem! reader so please let me know if you spot any slip ups on my part)

Summary: Soulmates are already a difficult concept to grasp and things don’t seem to get any easier when you like a person who already has a soulmate.

Word Count: 9.8k (it’s so long lakjd)

Warnings: Swearing, death and mentions of it, injuries, angst -lots of it-, it’s a mob fic so violence, smoking, Damiano being kind of an asshole? Me probably using swear words in italian wrong... Just read with caution pls

Masterlist // Taglist link in bio

A/N: If you’ve seen this before, it’s probably because this has been written and posted on my other blog @pparkersbitch as a Tom Holland fanfiction at the beginning of the year (which has now been deleted). It’s the same person and I’m not stealing anyone’s work :) I just like it and wanted to bring it back. I did add/modify some tiny details though. The idea is probably dumb, but I’m sharing anyways.

Taglist: @gretavanfleetlove​ @superchrystaldrug​ @reputationdamiano​​

“This isn’t how I wanted to start my morning,” Your best friend mumbled in a tired voice. You could barely hear him from where you were standing over the sounds the old -and surely broken- coffee machine kept making and the music playing from his phone.

“Well, sucks to be us, huh?” You chuckled and poured coffee on both of your cups as you did a small dance to try and shake the tiredness off your body. You handed Damiano his cup after preparing his coffee the way he liked it, a teaspoon of sugar with a splash of milk, and walked with him to the large office down the hall, “I don’t get why Ethan and Thomas can’t do this instead of us.”

The room was always cold and you seemed to forget about it most of the time since it still slipped your mind to wear a sweater or hoodie over your thin pajama shirt. You grabbed one of the blankets from the small black couch on the corner of the room and wrapped it around your body as best as you could with your free hand. 

You sat down on the chair next to him to have a better look at all the papers and files he had spread out on the desk, “What exactly are we looking for?” You asked with furrowed eyebrows. All those documents were enough to keep you occupied for the whole day if you didn’t work fast enough.

“We are looking for any leads to the drug cartel or its leader. Really anything that can help us find them,” Damiano explained and took a sip of his coffee as he opened the first file. 

You had been trying to track a drug cartel ever since they infiltrated your warehouse and stole some of your products. Damiano’s father had been at both of your necks ever since it happened as if it had been your fault instead of the incompetent guards that were supposed to be guarding the entrance at all times, “I’m sure these are people we’ve made deals with in the past, they wouldn’t have been able to break in otherwise. We’ve always been far too careful for this to be a mere coincidence.”

He removed the gold ring from his ring finger and left it on the jewelry bowl you had placed on his desk. You had known Damiano David and his family for years. For as long as you had known him, the band on his ring finger had been gold, and you hated it. 

That stupid little gold band was a silent reminder that he had met his soulmate and there was nothing to be done about it. For months you had silently hoped and prayed for Damiano to be your soulmate, but any illusion or wish you had of it happening, had vanished the moment you saw the gold ring on his finger for the first time. You later discovered he avoided wearing it on his hand because it put his soulmate at risk of being found, but he still kept it close to him at all times by using it as a necklace.

You avoided wearing yours for an entirely different reason. The black ring and all the stares and words of pity that came with it were saddening and something you didn’t need. While gold was a reminder of love and good luck, black was a reminder that your soulmate was no longer alive and you were doomed to spend the rest of your life alone. You were sure the band had been black for most of your life, or at least that’s how you remembered it.

It was safe to say you were jealous of Damiano’s soulmate, Marlee. Not only was she one of the most beautiful women you had ever met, but she got to have perhaps the most amazing man by her side until her dying day, something you could never have in any way that wasn’t platonic.

You successfully ignored it most days, which wasn’t so hard to do since you had better things to think about most of the time, but nights were always the hardest. In your loud and chaotic life, there was a speck in time where everything quieted and calmed down. During those few hours was when you’d break down and grieve for the person whose name you didn’t even get to know. You’d cry for being stupid enough to fall for someone who wasn’t only your best friend, but who also had a girlfriend.

“Damiano, Y/N?” Marlee’s sweet voice interrupted your train of thoughts. You had been reading the files consciously enough to notice anything unusual, but you had paid no mind to anything else until she walked into the room. You smiled politely at her and waved. 

She walked up to Damiano and he immediately closed all files with any sort of photo that might be too graphic for her to look at. Marlee cupped his face and pressed her lips to his for a few moments that felt like an eternity to you, watching everything from the side as a feeling of jealousy invaded your senses. You did nothing but look at the painting on the wall until they stopped locking lips, which took a bit longer than you would’ve liked.

“Did you two find anything?” Marlee asked once she pulled away from Damiano. He gave her a look you knew as ‘I cannot tell you anything about the mob to keep you safe’. She had been involved with the mob’s administration for most of her life, only after she met Damiano and her father united his mob with Damiano’s did she stop working. 

You had been brought in as a replacement of sorts once Marlee stopped doing any mob business per Damiano’s request. His parents had saved yours from a legal accident, which left you in debt with his family, so you didn’t have much say on whether you’d join the mob or not. 

Something you were grateful for was that Damiano always kept your hands clean. No matter what business it was, he made sure to keep you out of any sort of situation in which you’d have to hurt or get hurt by another member of the mob. Most people that worked for Damiano didn’t have the pleasure of knowing him as the lenient and caring individual he was around you.

You excused yourself after spending a few more minutes flipping through the files in search of something but ultimately found nothing. It was supposed to be your free day, or at least that was what Damiano had promised. Apart from that impromptu search for information at 5 am, he promised he’d have Ethan, Vic, or Thomas help with anything he needed. 

That was why you took the liberty to lock yourself inside your room and put your phone on silent. You desperately wanted to catch up on all the hours of sleep you had lost in between those early morning duty calls and coffee runs. No matter how much you enjoyed spending time with Damiano, you still missed your normal sleep schedule.

-

When you woke up a few hours later, the house was completely silent. The usual chatter coming from the kitchen wasn’t there, neither was the noise of Vic repeatedly firing bullets at the targets in the garden to practice her aim like she did every morning or the soft sound of Thomas softly strumming his guitar as he tried to piece an unplanned melody together with the assistance of Ethan’s drumming.

It wasn’t a Sunday, which meant they weren’t away visiting their families. They were all supposed to be home. That last thought made you nervous and you couldn’t help but wonder if something had happened while you were asleep. Being in the mob, you knew a lot of unexpected things happened all the time and you had to be prepared for them all.

You walked to the door, determined to investigate what was wrong. Your hand was already firmly grasping the doorknob and you were about to undo the lock when someone knocked harshly on the door, startling you. 

Without hesitation, you jumped back and reached for the gun stuffed in one of the drawers nearby, “Y/N? You awake?” 

You let go of the drawer’s handle and your tense body relaxed at the sound of Victoria’s raspy voice, “Fuck, Vic, you scared me,” You spoke as you opened the door to be met with her panicked blue eyes. Your eyebrows furrowed at her worried expression, but before you could ask, she grabbed you by the arm softly and dragged you out of the room.

Once you were in the hallway, you finally heard everything with a lot more clarity. The faint sound of glass clinking before falling to the floor, Thomas’s exasperated shouts, and Damiano’s complaints. You looked at Victoria, expecting an explanation.

“I don’t know what happened,” She began, “One second he was alright, then at like 9 AM Ethan and I heard them fighting. She’s gone and Damiano’s locked in his room, won’t let anyone in. Thomas is trying to get him to talk while Ethan looks for the keys.”

You walked past Victoria and ran up the stairs. Damiano’s room was right above yours. Upon walking up to the third floor of the house, you saw Thomas repeatedly knocking on Damiano’s door. Once he heard footsteps and spotted you, it was like relief washed all over him at the sight of you.

“Do you mind trying?” He asked, “He’s been asking for you,” Thomas added with a sigh as he brushed his messy hair out of his forehead. You nodded and got closer to the door once he got out of the way.

With hesitation, you knocked on the door and patiently waited for a response, which arrived only after you knocked once again, “Vaffanculo, Thomas! Which part of your tiny fucking brain cannot understand that I want to be left alone?”

You flinched at his words and took a long breath as you gathered the confidence to speak up, “I-It’s Y/N, Dami,” You said, loud enough for him to hear you from where he was. You were expecting rejection; if Damiano didn’t want to talk to people who were as close to him as siblings, why would he talk to you? Sure, you were one of his best friends, but he’d known Thomas for longer than he—

Your thoughts were interrupted when Damiano opened the door and quickly dragged you in before slamming it shut once more. For the first few minutes, you stood in silence while Damiano faced the door. You couldn’t see his face or his eyes, so you had no idea what could be going through his mind, so you focused on your surroundings instead. 

The room was a mess, but not more than it usually was. What alarmed you was the shattered glass on the floor as well as the drops of blood that stained the white floor. You looked back at your best friend and noticed that it was dripping from his hand. 

“Damiano,” You called, “Amore, your hand,” He turned to look at you and that’s when you finally saw his red and swollen eyes as well his tear-stained cheeks. His gaze softened once his eyes fell on yours. He choked back a sob and turned away from you once again.

If his hand hadn’t been bleeding, you wouldn’t have hesitated on wrapping your arms around his neck and trying to comfort him. Instead, you ran to his bathroom to grab the first-aid kit. After years of being in the business, treating Damiano’s cuts and injuries wasn’t anything new to you, but you were oblivious as to why he was in such a state in the first place.

Being the person he was, Damiano had learned to conceal his emotions incredibly well to protect himself, even around the people he trusted the most. You had only seen him that shaken once when something had gone terribly wrong. The fact that Marlee was gone too only gave you a worse feeling. The fact that her clothes were all gone from the closet didn’t ease your worried mind either.

Damiano was sitting on the bed patiently waiting for you to return. Once you did, he avoided your gaze and said nothing as you examined his hand. The cuts were all superficial and would surely cure on their own in a few days, which was why you only focused on removing the tiny shards of glass that had stuck to his skin with a pair of tweezers.

Once that was done and you had cleaned the cuts, you wrapped a bandage around his hand once and secured it with a small piece of tape. You sat in silence for a while, you didn’t comment on the sobs that would escape his lips every once in a while or the tears that had started falling down his cheeks.

Instead, you waited until he was ready to say something, “I don’t even know how to tell you this,” Damiano mumbled. His eyes stayed glued to the floor. He seemed… embarrassed to look you in the eye.

“I was finally going to do it this morning, N/N,” He said as a sigh escaped past his lips and he took a small velvet box out of his pocket. He didn’t have to say what was inside the box because you knew exactly what it was. Damiano had been planning on proposing for months, but there was always something that managed to get in the way of completing his goal.

“She went to the bathroom and had left her phone on my bedside table. I was going to get the ring and Y/N… I-I swear to God I didn’t want to look but the messages kept coming, one after the other, the fucking phone wouldn’t stop making noise. Cazzo, she was the one feeding information to the drug cartel and Lord knows to who else,” He said those words in one breath and you had barely been able to catch them all. Damiano threw the box at the wall angrily and from the noise, you didn’t doubt there’d be an indent there.

“I asked her about it and you have no idea how much I wished she’d deny it, but she didn’t even try,” Damiano cried. Unexpectedly, Damiano turned his body around to face yours and wrapped his arms around your waist while he buried his face on your neck.

It took you by surprise, but you said nothing. Instead, you focused on rubbing circles on his back and whispering soothing words into his ear. Part of you knew there was something else going on, even if you didn’t ask. You hadn’t seen Damiano cry in a long time and even then you saw nothing more than just a few tears rolling down his cheeks. What happened with Marlee had truly driven him right to the edge and he couldn’t keep in everything he had been trying so hard to hide.

-

In the four months that followed, you didn’t see Marlee once. She never had the guts to return after Damiano found out about everything she had been doing behind his back. At first, he had been utterly destroyed by her absence, it pained you to see him shut everything and everyone out with the lame excuse that he had work to do. Every single time he did so, you’d quietly sit down and help him despite his complaints. 

He got better though. Once enough time passed, he healed, but all that love he had once felt for her was now nothing more than pure hatred every single time her name was mentioned. You knew better than anyone that it wasn’t the healthiest thing to do, but it didn’t matter how many times you told him so because it never truly changed much.

As for the mob, things seemed to calm down once Damiano and Ethan were able to track down the leader of the drug cartel and get the stolen products back. Everything was too good and too quiet. While your four friends enjoyed all that peace, you couldn’t help but worry about something being wrong. It was a silly thing anyway, there was nothing that gave you even the slightest confirmation that your worry wasn’t just fueled by paranoia, not a single thing.

You should’ve been grateful instead. Your sleep schedule had gotten acceptably regular and there was no more working from 5 am to 10 pm every single day. You also had time to finally sit down and read the books that had been sitting on your untouched shelf ever since the start of the year, just like you were doing at that very moment while the boys were playing poker in the basement and Vic was on a date.

Damiano walked into your room eventually, still smelling like the cigarette he had just been smoking minutes back. He couldn’t help but scrunch up his nose as the smell of lemon incense burning hit his nostrils.

You looked up and giggled at his disgusted expression, “You cannot be disgusted when you were the one who walked into my room smelling like cigar and beer,” Damiano rolled his eyes and plopped down on the bed next to you.

“Incense is bad for you,” You shot Damiano a killer look and closed your book. He gave you a funny look back and then put his attention on your book, “What are you reading anyway?”

You hummed and showed him the cover. It had a beautiful yet simple design, which accurately represented the story hidden in between those pages, “Okay so, it’s the story of these people that all get invited to this island. They’re all summoned there for different reasons but it turns out they all have this common enemy. It’s terrifying because they get killed off one by one when a children’s lullaby plays. I truly cannot explain it enough to do justice to how intense this book is.”

“Oh and before that I got to read the most wonderful romance book! It was apparently the first book written where soulmates weren’t a thing and it was just a piece of art. Beautifully written, made me cry for hours too.”

Damiano smiled and you could almost see all the gears turning inside his brain, “Wouldn’t it be amazing?”

“What would?”

He shrugged and propped himself up on his elbows to get a better look at you, “A world without soulmates, where you’re not bound to someone since birth.”

You sighed and turned to look at him, “It’s our own fault… being bound, I mean. No angel from the heavens came down to tell us we have to love our soulmate as anything more than a close friend, you know? It can be purely platonic, we’re just stupid.”

“Were you ever able to fall in love with your soulmate or was it just platonic?” Damiano asked. You never talked much about soulmates with him. He still didn’t know your soulmate had been dead for as long as you could remember.

“I never got to know them,” You smiled sadly and showed him the black ring you had gotten used to wearing around your neck, carefully tucked under your shirt to stay unseen. His mouth fell open as he grabbed the ring and inspected it closely. It was the first time he had seen a black ring.

“I didn’t know… I’m sorry,” Damiano let the ring go. You shrugged and waved your hand to silently show it wasn’t too important, “I thought you guys were separated or something.”

You shook your head, “Mom says the ring turned black when I was six, but I don’t really remember so I just like to pretend I never had one in the first place… I don’t know.”

There was a question on the tip of your tongue, but you didn’t want to ask it, as intrigued as you were to know the answer. You hadn’t talked about her ever since she left and he’d most likely avoid the question because he truly wanted to keep her name out of his mouth. Nonetheless, he noticed your hesitance because you suddenly got too silent. 

“You can ask, you know? I know I just touched on a sensitive topic, so…” You nodded. Both of you were lying on your backs, looking up at the ceiling which had some of those glow-in-the-dark stars and planets you had glued when you first moved in to feel less lonely.

You hummed softly as you tried to find the right words. You didn’t want to be too straightforward with your question in fear of upsetting your best friend even though he had asked you the same question minutes earlier, “Did-did you ever… you know, fall in love with her?” 

Damiano thought about it in silence, you had probably caught him off-guard with your question, “No, not really. Not in the way I was expecting at least. You know truth be told, I was a bit disappointed. Don’t get me wrong, she had this angelic look to her, she was a stunning girl. I just- there was nothing we had in common other than being soulmates. For years I had seen my parents act like they shared one mind and just thought the same things. I always imagined it’d be like that for me too.

“My expectations couldn’t have been further from what it truly was like. Honestly, I’m not even sure which part of our relationship was true anymore. Now that I look back on it, I’ve realized most of the things she did or said were just to get information out of me.” 

It was weird to hear him say all that. As a person who always got to look at the way Marlee and Damiano interacted with one another, you would’ve never expected Damiano to feel that way, “And,” He continued, “I was expecting it to be someone else.”

His last confession made you turn around to look at him. It was the first time he had admitted that, probably because of the beer he had been drinking while playing with his friends.

“I know it sounds terrible but… I met her and this other person on the same day, almost at the same time. I didn’t notice my ring had turned gold until much later. I had only been with them both and people I already knew. I thought it had been the other person until she told me her ring had changed too. Meanwhile, the other one said nothing. Now I realize it would’ve been impossible for them to be my soulmate.”

It might’ve been because he was telling you all those things and you felt safe to admit what you felt, or maybe because you were tired of bottling it up for so long. Either way, you spoke up, not caring if you’d regret it later, “It’s not as terrible as you might think.”

“Look, I’m not bound to anyone. The black ring gives me the freedom of loving someone else. I never met my soulmate so there’s no guilt in being with someone else. It’s supposed to be a perfect thing, Dami, only it isn’t. I know a lot of people who’re also blacksouled,” You hated using the word. It was usually how people would refer to those who didn’t have a soulmate anymore, “And I fell in love.”

“T-that’s great!” Damiano replied, “Why didn’t you tell me? I mean, not like you’re obliged to tell me anything just because we’re friends but I-”

You interrupted his rant, “I fell in love with someone whose soulmate’s still alive.”

“So what? You said it yourself. Are they together?” He asked. You told him they weren’t. If only he knew you were talking about him… He’d probably run away and never speak to you again, “Then fuck it. Fuck the rules and everything else society has to say.”

“It’s not that simple, Dami. I truly wish it was, but it isn’t,” You wanted nothing more than for the conversation to be over. If it went any further, you knew you’d spill every single thing. It had gotten far too hard to conceal your feelings when you were close to him. Now that you were talking about them, it’d be even harder.

You got up and walked to your bookshelf, where you started accommodating your books as an excuse to avoid being so close to him, to avoid his curious gaze. Even if they weren’t together anymore, you knew Damiano would reject you, that was far too obvious. Even if he felt the same, after what happened, it’d take Damiano a lot of effort to ever trust someone in such an intimate way, even if that someone was you, his best friend.

“Why? It is that simple. If they’re not together, what’s stopping you? You’ll never know what could happen if you don’t try,” You turned around to look at him, fists clenched by your sides, “Listen Y/N, I know you’re scared of relationships and everything they involve but you cannot let that sto—” 

“Fine then, I’m in love with you! I can barely breathe when I’m around you because my love for you is so suffocatingly strong, and I can’t think straight either! You and your stupidly handsome face drive me insane. How’s that?” You admitted, interrupting his small speech midway, too irritated to process what you had just said. Once you did, your hand flew to your mouth and you shook your head. You wanted to say it wasn’t true, no, it was nothing more than a lie to get him to stop poking his nose into your love life. Except it wasn’t and, if you were being honest, no part of you wanted to hide it anymore.

Just like you expected, he said nothing. Damiano stayed silent for a few seconds before getting up and walking out without another word. He slammed the door on the way out so hard you wouldn’t be surprised if the door separated from its hinges.

For the weeks that followed, Damiano avoided you as much as possible. You were still his right-hand person and needed to be present at every meeting and would have to discuss any type of business with him. It used to be your favorite part of the day when you got to sit in the meeting room with Damiano and discuss plans to make the mob prosper, now it was nothing but uncomfortable because you’d do all the talking while he looked at you as if his biggest desire was to carve your heart out with his pocket knife. 

While you understood that he was still mad at Marlee and wanted nothing to do with her, you didn’t understand why he was treating you that way when you had nothing to do with it and weren’t to blame for the stupid shit his ex had tried to pull. You thought he knew that you loved him far too much to ever do anything to jeopardize his safety. Yet again, he might’ve assumed the same thing about Marlee.

You walked out of yet another unsuccessful meeting with Damiano and slammed the door as hard as you could to let him know how much his childish behavior annoyed you. Ethan was standing close to the door and you could see the shadow of a smile that was threatening to break out and illuminate his face, “Don’t you dare,” He raised his hands in defense and bit his lip to try and hide the smile that would just annoy you further.

“You two are starting to act like two teenagers and it’s fucking pathetic,” Thomas chimed in from where he was sitting on one of the couches.

“Yeah? Tell that to your friend who is giving me the silent treatment like a fucking toddler! I just want- I need to have a serious conversation with him,” You admitted and sighed as you fell on the couch right next to Thomas, head in your hands to try and cover up the tears that were threatening to spill down your cheeks.

Both men stayed silent as they watched you, Even though you could feel their stares, you decided to focus on not crying instead. The truth was, the longer Damiano spent ignoring you, the more you regretted telling him what you had been bottling up for years, it had been a mistake there was no coming back from. Unless he decided to stop acting like a kindergartener, things would never go back to the way they were.

It was frustrating to think that your friendship would go to shit just because of your confession. Being rejected by him wouldn’t have been a big deal if he had actually stayed in your room and spoken like the adult he was.

“For the record, I think he’s acting like an idiot because he’s scared,” Sighed Victoria, who had just walked into the room with an ice pack placed over her hand, “I know it’s been a while but, give him time. He’ll come around or I’ll make him, I promise.”

You gave Victoria a tight-lipped smile and nodded. You hoped more than anything that it wouldn’t have to come to getting locked up in the same room as Damiano to get him to speak to you.

Except… as more days passed, you feared it would most likely have to be that way because he was still saying nothing to you. He had only spoken once and it had been to call you out for being doing everything wrong while looking through some important documents when you were, in fact, doing everything just like he had initially requested. Now, not only had he been giving you the cold shoulder, but he had started acting like a complete jerk around you too.

You tried to distract yourself by focusing on all the work you had pending, but it wasn’t working. Every single day, no matter what you were doing, your mind still wandered back to the brown-eyed man and his stupid face, his stupid hair, and stupid smile.

Even as you stood in the middle of the kitchen, your thoughts made it difficult to bake the cookies you had been craving all week. You had started to work on the second batch after the first one came out disgustingly salty because somewhere along the process you had mistaken the salt for the sugar.  

You hated how bothered you were by the whole situation. It had affected you way more than you would’ve liked to admit. Truth be told, you had never felt sad about his rejection because it was something you had expected ever since that attraction for him first settled on your brain. It was the way he was treating you that got on your nerves. 

That was mainly the reason why you were so thankful for being alone in the house at that very moment. Apart from a few security guards here and there, you were completely alone. You allowed yourself to relax for a split second and connected your phone to the speaker system in the kitchen. You started playing one of your favorite playlists before getting back to making cookies the right way this time.

You softly swayed your body along to the music as you dumped all the ingredients on the large bowl in front of you. As you poured the flour in the bowl and mixed it with your hands, you noticed Damiano standing by the door. For some unknown reason, he scared you so bad you accidentally tipped the bowl and made a mess of the counter. 

A frustrated sigh escaped past your lips and you threw your head back, feeling defeated and irritated, “I’m sorry,” Damiano spoke up hesitantly, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You shook your head and wiped your hands on the apron you had tied around your waist, “It’s fine,” You turned around so your back was to him and started wiping the counter with a damp towel. 

“You deserve so much better…” You heard him speak up over the music. His words caught you by surprise. You turned around to look at him but said nothing. You could tell he was nervous by the way his hands trembled by his sides and the way his jaw was firmly clenched.

After a few minutes of hesitation, Damiano started walking to where you were. He placed his hands on the counter by your sides, leaving you trapped in between the counter and his body. You looked into his dark eyes to maybe try and guess what was going through his mind. 

You breathed in so deeply your chest hit his. You gulped at that and tried to control your trembling hands without looking away.

“What you said the other day, did you mean it?” Damiano asked, without hesitation this time around. Your eyes widened.

“I-I… What?”

“Just answer me Y/N, please,” Damiano pleaded. He looked so desperate to know the answer, which only made your blood boil. After weeks of silence, of glares and being a jerk, he dared to just show up and demand answers?

You shook your head and pointed your finger at his chest, “How dare you?” You took a step towards him, which made Damiano take a step back, “You have no right to show up like this and ask me to give you answers after how much of an asshole you’ve been.”

He seemed taken aback by your truthful words, but you didn’t care. If he wanted to know how much truth had been behind your words that night, he’d have to hear it all, “You know I’m your best friend and you also know I’d keep up with anything you do because that’s how much I care about you, but can you stop it? I know I was stupid for telling you because of what you just went through and I’m sorry, but please don’t keep giving me the cold shoulder. I just want to fix this.”

After a few minutes of silence, you shrugged and, like it was the simplest thing in the world, spoke up, “And yeah, I meant every word.”

Your expression softened as you waited for any sort of reaction from Damiano. You expected something similar to what had happened the day you first told him. No part of you expected him to cup your face with his warm, calloused palms to bring your face closer to him once again. 

Neither did you expect to feel his soft lips pressed against yours, or the feeling of his soft hair as you brushed it back with your fingers and your eyes slowly closing as you basked on the joy and pleasure his soft touches caused.

Damiano was gentle as he held your face in between his hands, almost as if you were made of glass and he was afraid of breaking you into pieces if he didn’t hold you delicately enough. That kiss felt so intimate, like nothing you had ever felt before. Everything from the way he held you to his slow movements and touches was so much better than you could’ve ever imagined.

When he pulled away, he left you completely breathless, wordless. There was nothing you could possibly say after the way he had kissed you, so you waited for him to find the right words instead.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Damiano mumbled. He still hadn’t let go of your face, “You truly deserve better. You are so beautiful, so perfect. I’m so sorry for being such an idiot and hurting you, ignoring you. I just- I know I cannot love you as you deserve. Believe me, I want nothing more than to have you close to me all the time, to kiss your lips until you grow sick of me, but I can’t,” His voice was starting to crack as he said those words to you and you knew it was because of how he saw your face fall.

“No, no, shut up and listen to me,” You pleaded and placed your hands on top of his. You gave them a soft squeeze and let your forehead rest against his, “I know it’s hard for you to trust after what happened with her and I know it’s not going to be easy, but believe me, I’m willing to try if you are, Damiano.”

“You were that other person,” He confessed and got closer to kiss you once more, with as much passion as the last time. You were too concentrated on the smell of his musky cologne and the faint taste of vanilla chapstick he had surely stolen from your room to respond to his comment.

His hands fell from your face and comfortably rested on your hips as his lips attacked yours. Damiano pushed you against the counter and kept savoring the moment as if it were the first and last time he’d kiss you like that. You hoped for your sake it wouldn’t be the last.

Damiano pulled away reluctantly and unexpectedly lifted you up so you’d sit on the counter. He stood in between your legs and intertwined his fingers with yours.

“Remember when I told you about the person I met the day I met Marlee?” You nodded, “That was you... Ever since I met you I’ve felt this inexplicable attraction towards you and it’s been driving me insane. I couldn’t believe it when you told me you loved me because I’ve done nothing to deserve it.”

“You’ve done so much to deserve it, so so much,” You mumbled and brought him close to you to kiss him for the third time. It was such an addicting feeling and both your heart and mind were screaming to feel it again.

That time around, Damiano didn’t hesitate to lift you up once more, he carried you to his room and locked the door.

— 

It had been a few weeks since your conversation in the kitchen. Things returned back to normal after that night. Other than your relationship with Damiano, things were the same again. You had to go back to working at ungodly hours of the morning thanks to some suspicious activity Ethan had noticed. Apparently, one of the oldest members of Damiano’s mob had tried to establish a deal with an unknown subject but had been caught before he could accomplish it. 

This put you both on edge because there was someone out there desperate to break into the mob and finish it for good. At first, you thought it wasn’t more serious than whatever had happened with Marlee, but Damiano’s father proved you wrong the moment he brought you, their most loyal employee, in for questioning. 

It had been nothing too serious, at least not in comparison to what you had heard others say. In your case, it had been done mostly as a standardized protocol, to stop others from thinking there was some sort of preference or special treatment towards you just because you worked so close to Damiano. You knew almost everything Damiano did, so you were possibly the greatest source of information outside the David family and their small circle of friends.

“Amore?” Damiano asked softly as his hand caressed the exposed skin of your waist. You had been cuddling in bed for almost two hours with the excuse that you needed a break after all the hard work you’d done, “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

You turned around to be face to face with him and pressed a kiss to his freckled nose, “Not much. I was just remembering I need to get my ring resized again. I tried putting it on a few days ago and it didn’t fit anymore.

Damiano frowned at your words, “Your soulmate ring?”

“Mhm,” You responded simply and let your head rest on his chest. You enjoyed the feeling of warmth his body irradiated, it was soothing and the soft sound of his rhythmic heartbeat never failed to make you feel calmer.

“Soulmate rings don’t need to be resized, ever. Not that I know of, at least,” Now it was your turn to frown because, as far as you remembered, you had always gone to get your ring resized by a family friend who didn’t live too far away. No one had ever told you it wasn’t necessary.

You pulled away from his embrace and reached for the bedside table where you had been keeping the ring for the past few days. Once you turned back around, Damiano looked confused and almost scared, “Just, out of curiosity, tesoro. Have you ever taken off the ring and left it like far away for longer than a few hours?”

A giggle escaped past your lips at his silly question, “It’s just a piece of jewelry, Dami. Of course, I have, several times.”

You laughed nervously once you saw his horrified expression. Damiano was starting to scare you, but you knew better than to say something because you’d end up looking like a fool if he started laughing and told you it was all a joke. Except, it didn’t seem like one.

“Please get dressed and meet me in room five, okay? I might be going insane but I just need to make sure I’m not,” Before you could ask any questions, Damiano had already grabbed a pair of pants and a t-shirt and disappeared into the bathroom to get dressed.

You tried not to think much about his weird questions and got dressed quickly instead. You grabbed your cup of tea, which had already gone cold, and walked to meeting room five.

You opened the door and were surprised to see all your friends already sitting around the small table you’d use for informal meetings. Thomas and Victoria looked tired and Ethan’s long hair was tangled and messy. That gave you the impression that Damiano had most likely woken them all up for your impromptu meeting. 

They all looked just as confused as you felt. There were a lot of questions you wanted to ask, but Ethan beat you to it, “Okay, now that we’re all here can you fucking explain why you had to wake me up? Please.”

“Have any of you three—,” Started Damiano, referring to Thomas, Victoria and Ethan, “—tried to take off your ring for a while but have started feeling sick and weird?”

Thomas and Victoria looked at each other, confused, but nodded. Ethan did after a few seconds of thinking about it, “Yeah, there was actually this one time I went on a date and I didn’t want the girl to see the ring had turned gold, so I left it at home. Thirty minutes later I was puking everywhere. I didn’t really understand why but someone at the Soulmate Centre explained rings are an extension of the soul and they need to be close to us at all times and there are actually records of people dying after losing their rings. Why?”

Damiano looked at you and raised his eyebrows to silently ask if he could share the information with the other three guys. Once you nodded, Damiano spoke up, “Y/N doesn’t need to have it close to them and they need to get it resized every once in a while.”

Ethan shrugged his shoulders, “That’s as far as my knowledge goes. I don’t know. I think the best thing you can do is go to the SC.”

You sighed but nodded. Ethan’s explanation had started to freak you out. What if there was something terribly wrong with you? What if you were born without a ring and your parents lied to you all your life?

— 

After having a short conversation with Damiano in private, you decided to follow Ethan’s advice and go to the Soulmate Centre that was only a few minutes away from your house. He wanted to go with you or send someone to watch over you but had accepted your petition to go alone after you told him it was a private matter and you'd tell him all about it once you got back.

So there you were, on the reception of the SC, with your sweaty hands intertwined together as you tried to ignore all the dirty looks people were giving you. Everyone around knew exactly who you were and most weren't one bit pleased to see you there. While some didn't hesitate to look at you like they wanted to kill you, others were afraid to do so.

Those few minutes that passed until the lady at the desk called your name were some of the most uncomfortable of your life. Some part of you hated having the mobster title because that usually gave people the wrong idea and drove them to hate you even if you could proudly say you had done nothing illegal or violent in your whole life. You had to admit the mob wasn’t an ideal job to have morally wise, but you had found a family inside those four walls others doomed to be cursed.

You walked up to the lady. She had what you could interpret as a nervous smile as she stood behind the desk, patiently waiting for you to tell her what had brought you there in the first place. You were hesitant to communicate your issue because you were mortified of finding out a truth that should probably stay hidden.

You reached back and unclasped the chain the ring was looped through. You left it on the counter and smiled softly as you shyly spoke, “So uh, good morning, ma’am. I was hoping you could take a look at my ring, I’m slightly concerned there was something wrong with it.”

The lady nodded and removed the ring from the chain. She inspected it closely for a few minutes before nodding her head towards one of the rooms that said ‘only employees allowed’. She started walking towards it with a quick step and you saw no other choice but to follow right behind her.

She opened the door and quickly closed it with a lock once she verified you were inside, “Listen, the only reason I’m not turning you over to the authorities is because you don’t strike me as someone stupid enough to walk into an SC with a soulmate ring like this.”

Your jaw dropped in surprise at how direct she was being. For a second, you noticed her face fall before she realized it was best to keep a face that communicated seriousness instead of begging for your forgiveness or whatever people did when they pissed Damiano off.

“I don’t know who gave this to you or in which illegal market you bought this but if a higher authority sees you with this, not even Damiano David could save you from the consequences of sporting a fake ring,” She said. You honestly didn’t know how to respond because panic had started to drown out any coherent thought that tried to form on your mind.

You didn’t even try to disguise your panicked expression that time around. Instead, you focused on regulating your breathing and trying to keep all your emotions at bay before you lost control and began to hyperventilate. The other woman noticed your distress almost immediately and led you to sit down on one of the couches.

After you took a few deep breaths, you looked back at her, eager to ask thousands of questions, “How can you know they are fake?”

She sat down next to you and put the ring on your palm, “Look at the inside,” She demanded while pointing her finger to a spot on the inside edge of the ring, “They usually have something engraved inside, a code that only repeats itself twice. Whenever one loses their soulmate, this code vanishes. Your code is still there. I also used a detector to confirm my suspicions and it detected nothing.”

“And with… with that code, can you tell me if my soulmate’s still alive? Or who they are?” The older lady looked at you with pity in her green eyes and shook her head.

“Unless this is the original code engraved on the real ring, there’s not much I can do for you other than telling you how your soulmate is. I need so much more information to ever give you a name,” You nodded in understanding. All you needed to know was if they were alive, that’s all you wanted.

She took your nod as a sign of approval and disappeared into another room. While you waited, you couldn’t help but secretly hope they were dead. You wanted all those weeks of bliss you had spent with Damiano to last a lifetime. He knew everything about you, from the number of scars scattered around your body to what book you had read the most times. No soulmate could learn that about you until years after meeting each other. Besides, it wouldn’t feel right. The Gods had already been too cruel for not making him your soulmate, but now that he wasn’t with Marlee and you knew he loved you just as much as you loved him… 

She walked out of the room and cleared her throat to catch your attention. You were thankful for her interruption because you were mere seconds away from bursting into tears of distress. She looked nervous to tell you what she had found out, but the way you looked at her made her spill the truth without any warning.

“Your soulmate is still somewhere out there, alive.”

— 

Damiano clutched his side with his hands as every type of curse word spilled from his mouth, “Thomas! Dammit Thomas, where the fuck are you?” He screamed and pushed the ache in his throat and side to the back of his mind as he limped towards the table where his loaded gun was placed, ready to be grabbed and shot. 

Things had been perfectly fine just ten minutes back. He had been drinking and playing pool with the boys in the basement. They were all laughing and messing around when Victoria heard the first gunshot. Thomas had been quick to dismiss it as one of the guards practicing his accuracy like they did every once in a while, so they went back to playing the game.

Then they heard it again and again and again. In that time it took the four men to walk up the stairs, people had already successfully broken into the house and they were shooting at anything that moved. The blood-red snake symbol all these people had on the masks that were covering their faces was one he had grown far too familiar with. These were the people Marlee had been conspiring with and they had managed to overthrow every single line of defense in between them and the front door.

Damiano had been in his room fetching a gun when a smoke bomb was thrown into the room. It had stopped him from seeing the person who shot him. Thankfully enough, their vision wasn’t much better either, because the bullet only grazed his side. It was still painful as hell and blood was pouring out of the wound, but it wasn’t going to be anything deadly. 

He finally got ahold of his gun after minutes of feeling around the table to try and spot it with the low amount of vision he still had. Once Damiano had it in his hands, he raised the scarf he was wearing to cover the lower part of his face to try and lower the quantity of smoke he inhaled.

He walked out of his room and into the hallway, still holding the gun firmly ready to shoot it at the first person he saw with that red symbol. Damiano opened the door to every room on the third floor. He had to shoot at one or two people before walking down to the floor below. The first room he opened was yours. His eyes went wide as he remembered you were still supposed to be at the SC. Damiano cursed under his breath. He needed to warn you not to come back but to go to your parents’ instead. Damiano opened the tracking app first, a precaution he had been insistent on taking just to make sure you both knew the other was safe. 

“Fucking hell,” Damiano mumbled as he saw that blue dot with your name above it was right on the same spot as his. You were back home.

Every thought of investigating each and every room to make sure there was no intruder flew out the window and instead he focused on trying to find you. Everything had turned chaotic on those few minutes he had been in your room, which was why it had gotten harder to get around without finding someone waiting on almost every corner for him to appear.

Damiano heard a piercing scream that made his blood go cold. You were in danger somewhere inside the large home and he desperately needed to get to you, to make sure you were safe from any danger. He knew his friends would be perfectly fine, they had their guns and several types of weaponry close-by, but he knew you didn’t. You always refused to take a gun or dagger with you whenever you went out and if they had caught you right when you had just gotten back… you’d most likely have nothing to defend yourself with.

There was no doubt in his mind that you were witty and incredibly smart, not to mention agile and great at coming up with plans on the spot, but he still needed to make sure you were alright. 

He got down on the first floor and his eyes met with a pair of blue ones he knew far too well. He let his eyes trail down to her carmine-tinted shirt. Marlee smiled at him and trailed her thumb along her jawline. That’s when he noticed her hands were also red and she had also left a trail of bloody footsteps from his office to where she was standing. His office.

Damiano didn’t hesitate to point the gun at her leg and pull the trigger. He then aimed for her other leg and shot it. She fell to the floor as an agonizing scream fell from her parted lips. Damiano was satisfied now that her stupid smile had been wiped right off her face.

He quickly ran to the office and opened the door. What he saw inside made time stop. It made all those sounds go silent. It made him feel like there was no floor beneath him to stand on. You were lying on the floor, a dagger piercing your chest.

You looked panicked, sad, like you wanted to do nothing but scream and cry, which you had started doing the moment you saw Damiano walked into the room. He didn’t know if your reaction was out of relief or if there was something else that concerned you, apart from the obvious.

“Damiano,” You spoke up weakly, The sound of your raspy voice was like a slap back into reality. He didn’t waste a second to fall to his knees right by your side. Damiano cupped your face with his trembling hands and brushed your cheek with his thumb.

“Shh. I’m here amore, I’m here,” He responded voice barely above a whisper, “I just need to find something to press against this wound I— something…” He stood up, ready to look for a rag, bandages, anything to stop the blood from rushing out of your body so quickly, but you stopped him.

You wrapped your hand around his arm and with all the strength you had brought him back down, “No hey, stop,” You mumbled, “Unless she happened to study every major artery, vein or has awfully perfect aim, I’ll be dead in minutes.”

He shook his head and wiped the tears that were starting to fall with the back of his hand. He was not giving up. Damiano was not going to let you die, “Wait, no, no. I can do this,” Damiano took his sweater and scarf off. With the help of his scarf, he applied pressure to the wound, careful not to move or dig the dagger further with his movements.

You shook your head and Damiano couldn’t help but cry harder at the desperation and panic in your eyes, “Please, Dami. Stop it, there’s no use. I-I just want you to hold me, please.”

He wiped his runny nose with the back of his hand and nodded repeatedly as he careful cradled you in his arms and moved your head to rest on his lap, “Everything’s going to be okay,” Damiano mumbled and left a long kiss on your forehead, then another one on your cheek and a last one on your lips.

You cupped his face with one of your hands and wiped the tears with your thumb. There wasn’t much left to say, not like you’d be able to talk even if you tried. Instead, you offered him one last sincere smile with all the energy you had left. 

He watched in horror as life slowly started to drain out of you as his ring simultaneously turned black. Damiano sat there for minutes after you were gone. He cried and let every frustration, confusion, and pain escape his body with a loud scream.

Damiano didn’t let go of your body until Victoria and Thomas had to forcefully pull him away and let someone else take care of you.

— 

Ethan didn’t walk into the room until he made sure every single intruder had been killed, except for Marlee, because Damiano had asked to keep her alive. When he did walk in, all he saw was Damiano with a folder in his hand and multiple pieces of paper scattered around the desk in his room. He looked pale, mortified by everything he was reading. The long-haired man didn’t understand what had gotten his friend in such a state of shock until he walked closer and looked at what seemed to be a contract.

You were Damiano’s soulmate. All your lives you had been tricked into believing you weren’t meant for each other. Your parents had made you believe you had no soulmate and Damiano had been fooled into thinking Marlee was his. You had gotten right to the bottom of it all and the secret would’ve gone to the grave with you if you hadn’t left the papers lying on his desk and if he had left his ring on the pocket of his jeans like he usually would. But now it was far too late to do anything about it.

[kurokoros]

thicc | kuroo

Rated: M

Words: 9.2K

Pairing: kuroo x fem!reader

Summary: Kuroo has nice thighs. Unfortunately, you aren’t the only one who notices.

AN: A belated birthday gift for @whats-her-quirk​. Happy (late) birthday, June <3 Have some smut! I’m sorry it’s stupidly long! Also, I’m sorry for any glaring mistakes, I didn’t edit this asdfghjkl

Warnings: smut, jealousy thigh riding, spanking, mild choking, dirty talk (praise and degradation), wall sex, unprotected sex

If you had to pick your favorite thing about volleyball it would be the players. Well, one player in particular. It’s always hard for you to keep your eyes of Kuroo when he plays, your gaze always drifting back to him even when you should be following the ball. More specifically, it’s always hard for you to keep your eyes off his thighs in those sinfully short shorts.

And the practice match tonight is no different, your eyes glued to Kuroo’s legs as he jumps to block a spike, his muscles tensing as he moves, sweat dripping down his skin.

Thank god you let Akaashi drag you with him to the match tonight. Your plan was originally to stay home and study, but Bokuto had whined and begged until Akaashi agreed to watch the match, and somehow you were roped into coming as well. Earlier, you were a little irritated about being dragged out on your one night off, but now you definitely aren’t complaining.

“You’re drooling,” Akaashi tells you. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see that he’s smirking.

Reluctant to take your eyes off Kuroo, you jab him with your elbow. “Shut up, Keiji,” you snap, blatantly staring at Kuroo as he lifts the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face. Chancing a glance at your friend, you see him doing the same to Bokuto. “Like you’re any better.”

Akaashi has the decency to pretend like he wasn’t just ogling his boyfriend’s glistening abs, but you have zero shame in staring.

Like he can feel your eyes on him, Kuroo looks up at you in the stands. His expression brightens, and he smirks, sending you a wink before turning back to the game. And fuck if that’s not the sexiest thing you’ve seen all day. You can’t wait to wipe that stupid smirk off his face tonight when you—

A loud whine drags you from your daydream, your gaze snapping away from Kuroo only to land on a pouting Yukie. With another whine, she drops her head onto your shoulder, the sound muffled by the too large jacket wrapped around you. Raising an eyebrow, you glance at Kaori over Yukie’s head, but the other girl only sighs. On your other side, Akaashi leans forward enough to look at Yukie as well.

Before you can ask her what’s wrong, Yukie’s arms slide around your waist. She pulls her face from your arm and props her chin against your shoulder, a heavy, dramatic sigh falling from her mouth. “Ugh,” she groans, looking at you and Akaashi, who only blinks back at her, “you two are so lucky to have such hot boyfriends.”

You almost choke on your spit when her words register. Behind her, Kaori looks absolutely scandalized, her eyes wide with horror. You’re barely able to smother your laughter when you catch a glimpse of Akaashi’s bewildered expression.

He blinks at Yukie again, mouth opening and then closing just as quickly before he finally settles on a confused, “Thank you.”

Yukie nods, her gaze sliding back to the volleyball game going on below. She hums in thought as she watches the ball move, eyes latching onto a familiar player. “Bokuto is thick,” she continues suddenly, rambling to herself. “Thick. With two Cs. Like, damn, look at him next to Oikawa’s pancake ass and tell me that that—what do the kids say, cake?—isn’t the nicest thing you’ve ever seen. Not that Oikawa isn’t hot too, but you know how I like a nice ass.”

You’re trying not to wheeze at this point, your shoulders shaking with barely muffled giggles as Yukie’s attention shifts to Oikawa’s flat ass. Next to you, Akaashi looks like he’d rather be literally anywhere else, and you knock your shoulder against his. His exasperated expression only makes you laugh harder.

Of course, that’s when Yukie turns her attention to your boyfriend.

“Oooh, and don’t get me started on Kuroo. Those are some pretty damn delicious arms. And his thighs! God, he could crush me with those and I’d say thanks.” Your laughter cuts off abruptly, your shoulder stiff beneath Yukie’s chin as her eyes wander over Kuroo slowly, watching as he jumps to successfully block a spike. She hums appreciatively, and you bristle immediately, a sick feeling swirling in the pit of your stomach the longer she looks at him. “They aren’t as beefy as Daichi’s, but Kuroo can—”

Kaori slaps a hand over Yukie’s mouth before she can continue. “Okay, that’s enough out of you,” she says, trying to pull your whining friend off of you while sharing a look with Akaashi.

Yukie only clings to you tighter, arms squeezing around your torso. “What, I’m single! I can look at anyone I want. I just can’t touch, pinch, or lick. It’s not my fault every guy we know is stupidly hot and taken.” Yukie stops suddenly, patting your thigh almost comfortingly. “Congratulations on scoring a hot piece of ass by the way.”

The possessiveness that flares in your chest is shoved back down as you remind yourself that this is Yukie. Your friend. She’s just being ridiculously thirsty as usual. It’s not a big deal. Nope. Not at all.

“Don’t you have a thing with Konoha?” you ask, desperate to change the subject from the aforementioned hot piece of ass that you’re dating. From what you remember from your last girl’s night, Yukie had gone on a handful of dates with the former Fukurodani player and things were going pretty well.

The question only makes Yukie’s expression darken. Her lazy grin disappears, replaced with narrowed eyes and a pout. “He doesn’t seem to think so,” she says, tone dripping with venom that makes your eyes widen. Before you can ask what she means, her mood shifts again. Yukie’s eyes brighten. She throws her arms up, yelling in excitement as the team scores a point.

You lean around her to look at Kaori, bemusement slowly turning to realization. “Is she drunk?”

A tired nod is all the response you need. “Very. She got into the wine while I was in class this afternoon. Apparently Konoha went out with another girl the other night? I’m not sure.”

Yeah, that’ll do it. “Of course, she did.” You settle back in your seat and allow Yukie to lean against your shoulder once more, only half listening to her rambling on about the game and the hot players on both teams. Now that you’re aware of it, you can hear the slight slur in the way she’s talking. That makes you feel a little bit better about her talking so openly about Kuroo. Just a little.

Jealousy is a bitch.

You almost forget about what Yukie said by the time the game is done. Almost. The players are just finishing cleaning up and gathering their things, and you, Akaashi, Kaori, and an intoxicated Yukie are waiting just outside the gym, chatting quietly as you wait for your friends to come out.

It isn’t long before the door to the locker room slams open, cutting Kaori off mid-sentence as the boys leave the gym. Footsteps pound against the floor. You look up just in time to watch Bokuto launch himself through the air and nearly tackle Akaashi to the floor, three inches taller and nearly thirty pounds heavier. Akaashi grunts in surprise, barely able to hold himself up as Bokuto’s arms and legs wrap around him. A noisy kiss is pressed against Akaashi’s cheek, but your attention is already somewhere else.

There’s a stupid grin spreading across your face as soon as you see Kuroo coming down the hallway flanked by Oikawa and Daichi, the three deep in conversation. Even from here you can see Kuroo’s eyes rolling, and you figure they’re talking about Bokuto’s frankly exhausting amount of energy post-game.

You consider calling out to him, but decide to take another second to stare at him instead. It’s unfair how good he looks after a workout, and you might as well enjoy it before he gets the chance to tease you for ogling him.

Yukie isn’t nearly as tactful. “Kuroo!” she calls across the room, waving her arms to get his attention. She nearly smacks you across the face with her flailing, giggling when you nearly drop her in surprise. Kaori hurriedly grabs Yukie as the drunk girl starts to slip from your grasp, and behind you Akaashi is still being smothered in Bokuto’s affections despite his complaints about sweat and PDA.

Kuroo’s head snaps up at the sound of his name, attention turning from Oikawa to Yukie, then to you. A grin immediately makes its way onto his face, his expression lighting up when he sees you. Oikawa says something that makes Kuroo shove him, and one of their other teammates laughs. Waving them off, Kuroo shrugs his bag higher on his shoulder, quickly making his way over to you. A mischievous smile tugs at his lips, and you know he’s just waiting to wrap you up in a bear hug and soak in some much-needed attention.

He’s halfway across the room when Yukie stops giggling long enough to shout, “Nice thighs!”

Kuroo’s steps falter, his eyes wide.

This time, you do drop Yukie. Kaori yelps at the extra weight, not expecting you to let go so suddenly and leave her as the only thing keeping Yukie from falling on her face. Yukie only starts giggling even harder, and you can hear Bokuto snickering as well from where he’s still wrapped around Akaashi.

It takes Kuroo a second to regain his bearings, his mouth opening and closing wordlessly as Oikawa laughs obnoxiously. Daichi at least has the decency to pretend he isn’t laughing as Kuroo calls back a confused “Thanks?” Shaking his head, Kuroo’s gaze returns to you, but you’re busy staring at Yukie.

Like before, there’s a sick feeling swirling around in your stomach. You know exactly what it is and force down the bitter, jealous, possessiveness that rises in your throat. It’s a feeling that you hate, but sometimes it’s hard to brush aside, no matter how much you trust Kuroo and no matter how obvious it is that Yukie is just being herself, albeit significantly more intoxicated.

By the time your attention snaps away from Yukie, the boys are closer. Oikawa is still snickering at your boyfriend’s expense, much to Kuroo’s annoyance. The two are exchanging quips, but Kuroo only has eyes for you.

Unfortunately, Yukie is still giggling and swaying next to you, you’re still more jealous than you’d ever admit out loud, and Daichi just happens to be the closest.

It’s almost an unspoken rule that Kuroo is always the first player you congratulate on a game. Usually, he has you wrapped up in a tight embrace as soon as he sees you, strong arms lifting you straight off the ground in his excitement. Just like Bokuto with Akaashi.

So, when Daichi goes to slip around you and help Kaori with Yukie, it comes as a surprise to everyone when you stop him with a light touch on the bare part of his upper arm. “Good game!” is all that you say to him, sending him a smile before letting go just as quickly once he nods, grateful, albeit confused.

You don’t notice the look that Bokuto and Akaashi share behind you.

Kuroo doesn’t look bothered at all by your brief interaction with Daichi, and somehow that makes you feel even worse. Lean arms wrap around your waist and tug you against a firm chest. Warm, slightly chapped lips press a gentle kiss to your temple. “You ready to go home, baby?” he murmurs against your ear.

One of his hands traces the length of your spine until he’s cupping the back of your neck, thumb sweeping across your skin.

Leaning into him, you tilt your head back to meet his eyes. “Yeah.” You wrap your own arms around him, holding on just as tight. “Good game.”

You’ve only been at Kuroo’s apartment for thirty minutes and you’re already about two seconds away from throwing something at Akaashi. With your volleyball player boyfriends wanting to clean up post-game, you’ve been alone with your best friend since Kuroo pressed a sloppy kiss to your forehead before racing Bokuto to the bathroom, only narrowly beating the other man—who sat outside the door sulking until Kuroo was done.

Normally, you wouldn’t mind the situation, but you can already tell that Akaashi has something he wants to say, and it’s a conversation that you really don’t want to have tonight.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you don’t dare look at him, all but feeling his stare burning into the side of your face as you stir a spoonful of honey into your tea and watch it dissolve. It’s too quiet in the kitchen. The clinking of your spoon against the side of your mug is too loud, and even Bokuto’s muffled, tone-deaf singing coming from the bathroom down the hall doesn’t lighten the mood. Nose wrinkling, you stop stirring your tea. An irritated sigh slips from your mouth.

He’s still staring, leaning against the counter across from you. Ignoring Akaashi is proving to be more difficult than you initially anticipated. You’re painfully aware of his presence. He’s scrutinizing you, brows furrowed in thought, and you know as soon as you look at him, he’ll know exactly what you’re thinking.

“So,” he starts casually—too casually—eyeing you over the rim of his mug, “are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

You consider flat out ignoring him, but decide that’s too mean. “Isn’t it too late for you to be interrogating me, Keiji?” you ask, propping your chin against one hand as you finally look at him.

He raises an eyebrow at your word choice. “Who said anything about interrogating you?”

“I’m not upset,” you tell him, you know, like a liar. “I’m just tired. It’s getting late.” Another lie. It’s barely ten. Usually on nights when you stay over, you and Kuroo are up late watching movies or fooling around in his room.

“Okay,” he says, dropping it immediately, much to your surprise. He doesn’t look at you as he grabs his tea off the counter. The mug makes it halfway to his mouth before Akaashi sets it back down with a sigh. “Actually, no. I’m not humoring you tonight.” The look he sends you is stern. “It’s okay for you to be upset about what Yukie said, but it’s not fair to—”

Before he can really start to lecture you, he’s cut off by an enthusiastic blur of blue and gray nearly lunging over the counter to tackle him in a hug. “Keiji!” Bokuto croons, face buried in his boyfriend’s neck.

Akaashi grunts as the wind is knocked out of him, Bokuto giving him a tight squeeze around the middle. “Kou, don’t be so loud,” he chastises, but doesn’t shove Bokuto away. With a sigh, he allows himself to be kissed on the cheek and cuddled, casual indifference broken by a secretive, fond smile.

You consider teasing him, but decide against it, content to let them be.

A moment later, long arms wrap around you from behind, pulling you against a firm chest as lips press against your temple, then your cheek. “Hey, kitten,” Kuroo murmurs, voice muffled as he leans down to kiss the side of your neck. His messy hair tickles your cheek, still damp from his shower, and you automatically relax as the familiar scent of his shampoo tickles your nose. Another kiss is placed just below your jaw, where he can feel your pulse jump under his touch. His lips curl into a smile that you know only means trouble, and you shudder as Kuroo’s fingers inch beneath the hem of your shirt.

Akaashi rolls his eyes at Kuroo’s PDA, and Bokuto wiggles his eyebrows. They’re both used to your boyfriend being a sexual menace by now. He’s like this more often than not after a game. The adrenalin makes him grabby.

Your breath hitches as Kuroo’s hands get a little bolder, “Behave,” you tell him, but don’t try to stop him. He won’t get too handsy with Bokuto and Akaashi right across the counter. And, honestly, after what happened earlier, you’re just as needy as he is right now.

His smirk widens. “You like me better when I don’t.” A sneaky hand snakes around your hips to pinch your ass and you squeal.

You reach around to smack his shoulder as he cackles. “Tetsurou!”

He backs off but doesn’t let you go completely, arms moving back to your waist and wrapping around you tightly. His lips press against the side of your head apologetically, coaxing you to lean back against him, and you roll your eyes as you feel him shake with barely muffled laughter. Abandoning your tea on the counter, you place your hands on his arms.

That seems to placate him for the time being. At least, enough for him to turn his attention to your friends across the counter. Kuroo makes himself comfortable behind you, subtly resting more of his weight against your back as he and Bokuto begin to bicker about another practice match they have later this week.

With his boyfriend momentarily distracted, Akaashi goes back to observing you from across the counter, which you purposely ignore, instead focusing on Bokuto’s animated expressions and the gentle rumble of Kuroo’s chest vibrating against your back every time he speaks. Undeterred by your refusal to look at him, Akaashi crosses his arms, staring at you even harder, like somehow he’ll be able to see right through you.

“Do we really have to go to the gym tomorrow?” Kuroo whines. “It’s Saturday, bro, we can take one day off.”

Bokuto gasps, scandalized. “Never skip leg day, Kuroo!” Huffing, he jabs a finger in your boyfriend’s direction. “You want to be dummy thick like Daichi, don’t you?” he asks, much to your amusement. Akaashi looks like he’s in physical pain, and it’s all you can do to keep from cackling right then.

Kuroo’s grip on you tightens just a fraction. The arms that are wrapped around your waist tense, but when you try to look at him, Kuroo tucks you under his chin. His cheek presses against the top of your head. “I think my thighs are thick enough, thanks,” he tells Bokuto dryly. He squeezes your hip when your fingers brush against his forearm, and his tone turns teasing as his attention returns to you. “What do you think, baby?”

The mention of his thighs makes you tense, too. Yukie’s gushing compliments from the game punching straight through your chest and make your stomach twist into knots. And your good mood plummets. There’s a sour taste in the back of your mouth, and you aren’t quick enough to stop a sarcastic quip from slipping out.

“Why don’t you go ask Yukie? I’m sure she’ll tell you how thick they are.” Your tone is clipped, sharp, and you only realize you’ve said it out loud when you feel Kuroo stiffen behind you again, but by then it’s too late.

The tight grip he has on your waist loosens in surprise, Kuroo’s hands falling limply to his sides as he stares down at you in utter bewilderment. “What?” He sounds as hurt as he does confused. The softness of his tone strikes you between your ribs and makes you wince.

Horrified, all you can do is stare at the pair across the counter. Bokuto looks at you, then Kuroo, his eyes wide. Beside him, Akaashi just sighs, sending you a look that’s a clear cross between “you fucked up” and “I tried to tell you”, and for once you can’t even argue with that.

Unsure how to respond to the mess you’ve made, you send Akaashi a pleading look. If anyone can diffuse a situation before it starts, it’s Akaashi. He meets your gaze across the counter, his eyebrows furrowing just the slightest as he looks from you, to Kuroo, and back to you.

“Kou,” Akaashi says suddenly, breaking the tense silence by turning to his boyfriend, “why don’t we go see Konoha tonight? It’s been awhile since we saw him.”

“What?” Bokuto replies, confused, still staring at you and Kuroo owlishly. “Keiji, we just saw him yesterday—oh!” It takes him a second, but then he’s grabbing Akaashi’s hand and all but dragging the other man towards the door. “Right! Let’s go!” Bokuto glances at you and Kuroo over his shoulder, grinning. “You two have fun tonight! But not too much fun, or we won’t get the deposit back on—ouch!” He pouts, rubbing his shoulder where Akaashi smacked him.

“We’ll be back in an hour,” Akaashi says to you. Then, to Kuroo, “Not on the counter, please.”

The insinuation makes your eyes widen, and you shoot Akaashi a nasty look, which he ignores. Talk it out or fuck, is what he doesn’t say out loud, and you tense in anticipation despite the concoction of other emotions swirling in your stomach.

Kuroo makes a low sound in the back of his throat and leans forward again, caging you in as his palms press against the countertop on either side of you. With his chest flush against your back, you can feel how tense he is. “No promises.”

Rolling his eyes, Akaashi grabs his keys out of the bowl by the door and allows Bokuto to pull him out of the apartment. The door closes with more force than necessary, loud slam giving way to silence as soon as you and Kuroo are alone.

Pinned between him and the counter like this, you can feel the heat of his breath puffing against the side of your neck. His fingers flex against the counter top, and your gaze is drawn to the lean muscles of his arms on either side of you.

Yukie’s comments claw at you again, and you grimace. It’s a stupid thing to fixate on. You feel ridiculous for letting it bother you in the first place, and you’re sure Kuroo is confused. Maybe upset. You aren’t usually snappy with him. And Akaashi was right. It’s not fair for you to take your jealousy out on Kuroo.

Sighing, you ready yourself to apologize.

“Are you going to keep acting like a little brat, or are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” His lips brush against your skin as he speaks, touch soft compared to his tone. Your eyes widen as he presses himself up against your back. There isn’t an inch of space left between you. An open-mouthed kiss is placed just below your ear, and you shudder as his teeth graze the side of your neck. When you don’t respond, Kuroo sighs. “I’m not going to ask you again,” he warns you.

Kuroo leans forward, keeping you pinned to the counter as one of his hands drifts back to your waist. The pad of his thumb grazes your hip where your shirt has ridden up, teasing you. Your breath catches. His weight against your back is equal parts comforting and arousing. And Kuroo knows exactly how to touch you, how to turn you into a shivering mess until you’re practically begging for him.

It’s hard not to do exactly that when his breath is fanning over the side of your neck and his fingers are slipping beneath the hem of your shirt. Hot and wet, his lips graze a sensitive spot below your jaw. He doesn’t kiss you, but he’s close, and you feel the slightest twitch of his mouth. You can’t tell if it’s a smile or if your silence is pissing him off. The latter makes your pulse jump, your heart racing.

“Yukie was talking about you at the game,” you finally tell him. It sounds ridiculous when you say it out loud. Petty jealousy. But you can’t help it sometimes. Not when he’s all tousled hair and sly smirks that could drive anyone crazy.

Kuroo pauses. “Oh?” Warm lips place a soft kiss on your neck, and your head falls back against his shoulder, your eyes fluttering shut. An appreciative sound slips from his throat. Another kiss is pressed to your throat, hot and open-mouthed. Shivers run down your spine as his hips rock forward against your ass. “And what was she saying about me?”

His teeth scrape over your skin, just enough for you to feel it, and you jolt. A breathy whine escapes you before you can stop it. Kuroo chuckles, voice deeper than usual, and you try not to squirm as he nips at you, voice a low murmur as he speaks. “Don’t get shy on me now, kitten,” he taunts, “you were so mouthy a minute ago.”

When you take too long to answer, Kuroo’s fingers sneak beneath your shirt to pinch your hip. You yelp, squirming away from his fingers, but that only drives you further back against him. Grunting, Kuroo pins your hips against the counter. Already half-hard, he grinds against your ass lazily. The thin fabric of his sweats does nothing to hide his growing arousal, and warmth rushes through you, liquid heat pooling in your belly.

“Your arms,” you manage to tell him. He acknowledges you with a hum, sound muffled by his teeth and tongue as he continues to tease your neck. “And your thighs.” Your next admission is softer and a little bitter. “She wouldn’t stop staring at you.” A lot of girls stare at him. They always have. It shouldn’t still get to you, not when you’re the one he’s touching like this, hands wandering over your skin and his mouth sucking a bruise onto your neck.

There’s nothing to be jealous of when he’s already yours, and he seems intent on proving that to you.

“Yeah?” Kuroo asks. “Is that why you were trying to make me jealous after the game?” Smugness practically rolls from him in waves. His lips curl into a smirk. “Hmm? Trying to get me all riled up?”

You barely choke out a, “Yes.”

It surprises you when Kuroo’s mouth rips away from your neck. His touch is gone for an agonizing moment before reappearing on your cheek. The kiss he places there is softer this time, sweeter, and it makes your heart swell in your chest as he shifts to whisper in your ear. “You know I’m yours, right?” His hand is pressed against your abdomen now, fingers spread out to cover as much of you as possible. He waits until you nod and sighs. “Good.” He kisses your cheek again, then your jaw, his lips wandering back to your neck.

And just like that a switch seems to flip in him again. “And you’re mine,” Kuroo continues, voice lower than before. “Or do I have to remind you who you belong to?” His hand slides up your stomach, inching towards your chest.

“Tetsu,” you gasp, arching into his clever hand.

“What do you call me, kitten?” It’s more of a demand than a question, and you keen as his fingers slip beneath your bra. His calloused thumb brushes against your nipple before he pinches it between his fingers just to watch you squirm.

Breath catching, you wet your bottom lip. “Sir,” you correct yourself, letting him tilt your head to the side, positioning you just the way he wants you. Your easy compliance makes him grin. Kuroo grinds against your ass again, harder this time, and you squeeze your thighs together as heat licks across your spine.

“Good girl.”

His lips meet your jaw in a chaste kiss, and he squeezes your breast once, palming you before letting go. As his hand snakes out from beneath your shirt, you expect him to yank you around, force your head back and dominate you with a rough kiss, so you’re surprised when his touch leaves you entirely. Like before, his palms press against the top of the counter. Even his weight leaves your back, an inch of space between you that feels too wide and painfully close all at once. The heat of his breath tickles the back of your neck, and you shudder at his proximity, desperate for his touch.

There’s a whiny tone to your voice when you call out his name. “Tetsu,” you whimper, torn between begging for him and holding onto your stubborn pride. Anything to get him to touch you again. Already, there’s an ache forming in the pit of your stomach, and he’s hardly done anything yet.

When he ignores you, you huff. Taking matters into your own hands, you press your palms to the counter top and grind yourself back against his crotch. Satisfaction bursts in your chest as he makes a surprised sound in the back of his throat, but your pleased grin at catching him off-guard disappears as his hand comes down on your ass with a sharp slap.

This time, you yelp, mouth dropping open in a silent cry as his big hand squeezes your ass over your shorts. “So impatient,” Kuroo muses, clicking his tongue in disapproval. “Are you gonna behave for me, or are you gonna keep acting like a brat?” There’s a condescending edge to his tone, and you wish it didn’t turn you on as much as it did. And he knows it too.

As he waits for you to respond, Kuroo places his hands on your hips. His thumbs trace slow circles on your sides, slowly inching your shirt upwards as he fights the urge to rip the thin fabric over your head and take in every inch of your skin under his greedy touch.

And fuck if that’s not exactly what you want right now. It’s a miracle that you aren’t already trembling for him, hyper-aware of his every move. His heated touch. “I’ll behave,” you tell him. The chilled edge of the counter presses against your abdomen as he drags your top higher, but the cold is chased away by his palms ghosting over your sides.

“What was that, kitten?” You don’t have to look at him to know that he’s smirking, pleased with himself for making you such a mess already.

You wet your lips again. “I’ll behave, sir,” you repeat yourself, louder this time.

You’re rewarded with another pleased sound rumbling in his chest. “That’s my good girl,” Kuroo says again. His hands are on your ribs now, his thumbs tracing the underside of your lacy bra. Your shirt is carefully tugged off over your head before he carelessly tosses it to the floor, hands going right back to your painfully soft skin. Both of you revel in the contact.

Kuroo’s mouth is back on your neck immediately, lip wandering over every inch of newly bared skin available to him, all teeth and tongue as he peppers your skin with faint hickeys and love-bites. His teeth graze a sensitive spot between your neck and shoulder. His hands are everywhere. Palming your breasts. Drawing circles and shapes across your sides. Slipping between your legs to stroke your thighs and flirt with the hem of your shorts, teasingly close to where you really want him.

And then his hand wraps around your throat. He doesn’t choke you, grip loose enough for you to breathe, but the slightest pressure has goosebumps erupting across your skin. Your legs tremble as he squeezes just the slightest.

He nips at your exposed neck, and your breath hitches as two long fingers trace your slit over your shorts, applying just enough pressure to your clit for your hips to jump into his touch. Your head falls back against his shoulder again, your eyes squeezing shut as your mouth drops open.

A frustrated whine builds in your throat as he pulls away, but he’s quick to hush you, his hand slipping under the waist of your shorts to tug them down your hips. Left in just your panties, you rub your thighs together, flushing when you feel just how wet you are already. Your panties stick to your skin in a way that’s almost embarrassing, and you know it’ll only stroke Kuroo’s ego even harder.

“Fuck,” Kuroo murmurs as your panties slide down to your ankles. “I’ve been wanting to take these off you all damn day.” He leans back to get a good look at you, half-naked and dripping for him, and the sight goes right to his cock. “Such a cute little ass.” A hard spank to your right cheek makes you gasp, the sharp sting of pain making your eyes water. He’s quick to soothe the tender spot, chuckling, low and throaty, a deep baritone that hits you right between the legs.

“Do you have any idea how hard it was not to bend you over right in front of Bokuto and Akaashi?” he continues. “I bet you would have liked that, huh? Dirty little slut.” Kuroo’s hand is back between your legs, teasing your wet slit and sliding over your clit until you’re panting.

His grip shifts around your throat. “Fuck,” you mewl. “Tetsu—Tetsu, please.” You can’t finish the plea, a loud squeal cutting you off as he pinches your clit harshly between his fingers before letting go, pain mixed with the pleasure. “Oh, god.”

“Bend over, kitten,” he tells you, lips against your ear. A hand on your lower back guides you down to the counter, and you comply willingly, stretching up on your toes as your torso is pressed against the smooth surface. Kuroo strokes your cheek, his thumb brushing against your lower lip teasingly. “Don’t move.”

You stay perfectly still even as he backs away, legs quivering from the angle and the stretch, precariously balanced on your toes with the counter digging into your hips. None of that matters though. Not the mild discomfort or the cold seeping into your torso. All you can feel is Kuroo behind you, his gaze burning into your back as he trails the tips of his fingers over the curve of your ass, admiring you.

There’s something a bit like awe in his tone as he murmurs, “Fuck, look at you.” His hands ghost over your hips and thighs, like he isn’t sure where he wants to touch you. “So fucking pretty. Such a good slut for me.”

Kuroo’s hand slides up your back, his fingers tracing the dip of your spine until he reaches the base of your neck, where his long fingers wrap around you, forcing you down harder against the counter top. A low hum slips from his mouth as he looks down at you, sharp eyes drinking in the sight of you, how pretty you look underneath him as you try not to squirm. Leaning over you, he grinds his cock against the back of your thigh teasingly. “Is this what you want, kitten?” he asks you, breath hot against your ear. “You want me to bend you over the counter and fuck you senseless? Make you beg me to let you come all over my cock?”

He squeezes the back of your neck as a breathy sound escapes your mouth. Kuroo kisses your cheek. His lips brush against you as he murmurs, “Well that’s too fucking bad.”

You yelp as you’re suddenly yanked off the counter. Hands latch onto your hips as soon as your feet are on the ground, and you’re ripped around so that you’re facing Kuroo for the first time since he came up behind you earlier. His hazel eyes are almost golden in the kitchen light, and there’s a feral glint in his gaze as he looks at you. “You wanna be naughty? Tease me?” he asks, leaning in until his lips are hovering just above yours. “Come on, kitten, you should know better than that.”

His hand wraps around your throat again, tighter this time, and you’re forced to follow him as he steps away from the counter. Kuroo doesn’t kiss you as he guides you through his apartment, making you walk backwards so you can’t see where he’s taking you.

“What was it that Yukie was saying about my thighs earlier?” he asks you. “What did she say that made you so damn mad?”

“Tetsu,” you whimper.

“You know you aren’t very subtle, kitten.” Belatedly, you realize he’s taken you to his room. Kuroo throws the door shut behind you, but doesn’t bother to lock it. Your cunt clenches at the thought of Bokuto or Akaashi walking in, but Kuroo is quick to drag your attention back to him. “You think I didn’t see you staring at me the entire game? You couldn’t take your damn eyes off me.”

Kuroo lets go of your neck, his hand trailing up to your jaw as he drags his thumb across your bottom lip. He watches you as his hand falls back to his side, and his lips curve upwards as he fists the back of his shirt, yanking the plain t-shirt off in one smooth motion. You can’t help the way your gaze drops to his bare chest and stomach, greedy eyes taking in each defined muscle from years of playing volleyball.

Your gaze only slides lower as his sweatpants drop to the floor as well, leaving him in only a pair of boxers that leave his thick thighs on display. Fuck, if you weren’t dripping before, you definitely are now.

So busy staring at his legs, you don’t notice that his smile is all teeth.

Kuroo drops down onto the edge of the bed, and you gasp as he grabs your hips. Yanking you forward, you’re pulled down to him. Chest to chest. Not an inch of space left between you as he situates you over his leg, forcing you to straddle his thigh. “What were you thinking about, hmm?” he asks as you steady yourself on his broad shoulders, feet barely finding purchase on the floor. Heat sinks into you as his thumbs tease the lacy edge of your underwear. As if to taunt you, he leans in close, breath fanning over your lips. “Was it this?”

With that mocking tone, he shifts beneath you, his hands tight on your hips as he grinds you down against his thigh. The rough drag against your clit makes your eyes flutter shut. Your head drops forward against his shoulder, a shuddering breath falling from your parted lips.

“You wanna fuck yourself on my thigh, kitten?” To emphasize his question, his flexes beneath you, pressing harder against your wet cunt. The angle is just right to have him applying pressure perfectly to your clit. When you try to grind against him, Kuroo grabs your hips, holding you in place. And, when you try it again, he lets go of one of your hips long enough give you a warning smack on the outside of your thigh. The sting makes you shudder. “Dirty girl,” he coos, reaching around to squeeze your ass.

“Please,” you whimper as he mouths at the curve of your jaw. Kuroo kisses across your neck, nipping at you as he works his way down to your shoulder. One of his hands slides between your spread thighs to feel how wet you are, and you have to bite your lip to keep from whimpering as he laughs. You jerk, arching into his teasing touch.

“Fuck, you’re wet,” he notes as his fingers slip beneath the damp, flimsy fabric of your panties. Kuroo hums, pleased at the way your arousal coats his fingers.

He circles your clit slowly, each touch sending little pleasurable shocks through you. The knot in your stomach only coils tighter. “Asshole,” you bite out, choking on a moan as he pulls his hand away, leaving you more frustrated than you were a minute ago.

Your tone only gets another laugh from him, deeper and darker than before. “Ouch,” he says, brushing your hair away from your neck, “kitty’s got claws tonight.” His hand wraps around your throat again, long fingers curling around your fragile neck. You still, inhaling sharply, and Kuroo groans as he feels your pulse start to race beneath his hand.

He pulls you further against his chest, naked skin pressed flush against yours. “I thought you said you were going to behave for me,” he reminds you, leaning in to kiss the corner of your mouth. As his lips trail across your cheek, he shifts his thigh underneath you, dragging himself against your pussy slowly. Kuroo stops when he reaches your ear; his grip on your throat tightens, squeezing enough to steal your breath. “You that jealous? Or do you want me to punish you?”

The question is almost a low growl, and you shiver, thighs squeezing around his muscular one. “Tetsu,” you gasp around the intoxicating grip he has on your throat. “Please, I can’t—I need you,” if what you finally manage to spit out, thoughts muddled and head heavy with arousal.

“Well, you better get to it then,” he tells you, adjusting his grip on your throat. His other hand squeezes tightly around your hip, fingers digging into your skin hard enough to bruise. When you don’t move, he bounces his leg. It tears a moan from your chest. “Come on, you know what to do. Why don’t you give me a little show?”

It’s hard to breathe, let alone move. His presence is suffocating in the best way. The hand around your throat. His thigh between yours. The feel of his skin beneath your fingers and the steady beat of his heart where his chest is pressed to yours. All of it has you on edge.

The need swirling in your stomach forces you to move. A slow rhythm picks up as you slide over his thigh, grinding down on him. The tight grip you have on his shoulders is the only thing holding you up, and you shudder at the friction against your swollen clit. A sound of approval leaves Kuroo, and he hums against the side of your jaw, grip tightening just the slightest around your neck.

The grip he has on your hip loosens suddenly. His fingers slides along your side teasingly, his touch so soft that it makes your heart squeeze. You press your chest into his touch as he palms your breast. Deft fingers make quick work of the flimsy fabric, his hand slipping underneath to pinch and roll your nipple just like before. It isn’t long before he’s turned you into a quivering, moaning mess.

The ache between your legs only worsens with each slow roll of your hips against his thigh. The friction is intoxicating, but it isn’t enough. It isn’t what you need. Right now, you want to feel him surrounding you, holding you down as he whispers filthy things in your ear, making you moan for him. You want the pressure of his cock inside you, stretching you, the roughness of his fingers circling your clit until you’re so sensitive you have to beg him to stop.

“That’s it,” he mumbles. “Be a good girl for me and maybe I’ll let you cum.”

Little garbled pleas of his name fall from your lips as he pinches your nipple again, the sharp sting making you lurch forward against his chest.

Releasing your breast, he reaches around your back, fiddling with the clasp of your bra for a second before the fabric comes undone, straps sliding down your arms. You’re barely aware of him prying your fingers from his shoulder and tossing the fabric aside, but when he crushes you against his broad chest, the heat that surrounds you is overwhelming.

Kuroo draws you into a kiss, hot and heavy enough to make your head spin. Letting go of your throat, both of his hands make their way back to your hips, helping you grind down against him harder, faster, your rhythm picking up speed as your legs start to twitch and tremble.

He smacks your ass, gripping tightly and kneading your cheek. The sting distracts you as his other hand disappears beneath your soaked panties. Teasingly, he drags his fingers against your cunt, slick fluid clinging to his skin. “Look at you making a sloppy mess of my leg already.” He chuckles, rubbing two fingers against your clit to make you gasp. “And I’ve barely fucking touched you yet.”

The pace he sets up is hard and fast, determined to send you hurtling towards the edge. Your thighs clench around his, your fingers digging into his shoulders so tightly you swear you might break the skin. By now, your eyes are squeezed shut, your mouth open as you pant and gasp his name. You press yourself tighter to his chest. Sweat-slicked skin makes it easy to slide over his thigh as he plays with your clit.

By now, you’re so turned on that it almost hurts. Each harsh pinch of his fingers on your clit sends shocks of pleasure ripping through you, the coil in your lower belly winding tighter and tighter with every roll of your hips. He slaps your ass suddenly, still thumbing your clit, and the combined sensations make you choke on a moan. Between his fingers and the steady rocking of your hips, you’re going to cum. And you’re going to cum hard.

Kuroo forces you right to the edge; and then he takes it away.

You almost sob as he pulls his fingers out of your panties, Kuroo quick to grab your hips and hold you still, keep you from chasing his touch.

“No,” you gasp, trying to grind down on his thigh despite his iron grip. The lack of stimulation makes you whine, tears welling in your eyes. “No. Tetsu. Oh god, sir, please.”

He releases one of your hips to brush his fingers against your cheek, though the gentleness doesn’t last. Kuroo grips your chin between his fingers, tilting your chin to make you look at him. “I did say I’d have to punish you, kitten,” he reminds you. There’s an apology in his tone, but his wicked smile says he’s anything but. His thumb traces your bottom lip. “Don’t pout. You did so well.” You’re drawn into a sultry kiss that ends too soon. His words are muffled against your lips. “You’re gonna take me so fucking well. Just like a good girl. My good girl.”

“Let me make it up to you,” he says, but it sounds like a taunt.

It’s the only warning you get before his hands are on your ass, gravity shifting beneath you. Kuroo lurches off the bed, hauling you against his chest with ease. Your legs wrap around his waist reflexively, hands desperately grasping at his shoulders to hold yourself up. The bite of your fingernails on his skin makes him groan,

He squeezes your ass appreciatively before slamming you up against the nearest wall.

It knocks the air out of your lungs, and you wince, but Kuroo doesn’t you a moment to breathe before he devours you. His lips are feverish against yours, his tongue in your mouth and his teeth nipping at you until you’re whining and grinding against his cock. Spread open like this, you can only moan into his mouth as the tip brushes against your clit through your underwear.

For once, he doesn’t waste time teasing you, both of you too riled up to wait as he shoves his underwear down. You’re squirming by now, trying to pull him closer with your legs around his hips. A low groan tears from his throat as he shoves your panties aside, his thick cock rubbing against your dripping pussy.

Kuroo’s cock shoves inside of you easily, you’re so wet for him. The stretch burns in the best way, pure ecstasy ripping through you. You whimper as you struggle to take all of him, and your cunt clenches around him so tightly that he tears his mouth from yours to hiss and curse.

“You like that, kitten?” he asks you, groaning as he slaps one hand against the wall to steady himself. The other digs into your thigh. “You like it when it hurts? So fucking naughty.” He presses a sloppy kiss against the side of your neck.

He fucks you roughly. The wall scrapes against your back when he moves, and the little sounds you make only feed his fast pace. He’s perfect inside of you, hard and hot and thick enough to pound against your sweet spot with every harsh thrust of his hips. The wet slap of his cock filling you and your breathy panting and moaning are the only sounds in the apartment, so loud that your neighbors are sure to hear.

You tremble as Kuroo fucks you, only able to cling to him as pleasure makes you dizzy. You’re so close. You’re so, so close, and he must know it with the way you’re tightening around him with every roll of your hips.

His teeth dig into the curve of your neck and shoulder, and you yelp, fisting at his hair. He moans as you pull on the messy strands clenched in your fist, and his cock shoves inside of you even harder. “You wanna act like a little slut?” he pants against your ear, hand coming down on the outside of your thigh. “I’ll treat you like one. You think Daichi could make you feel this good?”

You moan, barely able to shake your head. You don’t want Daichi. You’ve never wanted Daichi. “Just you,” you choke out.

“Good girl.” And then his fingers are on your clit, rubbing tight, fast circles onto your swollen nerves.

Pleasure rips through you as you cum, white-hot and electric. The knot in your stomach snaps as your orgasm hits you, slamming the breath from your lungs. Your hips jerk between him and the wall. Your limbs tremble, heavy, and you shudder as you drop your head against his shoulder, biting down to keep yourself from shouting. The grip you have on his back slips, and your fingernails rake down his back, marking him up.

“Shit,” he sneers. Kuroo fucks you through it, grinding against you harder as your pussy clenches around his cock with every thrust, each rougher than the last. Calloused fingers continue to roll over your clit, though not as frantic as before. His thumb draws lazy circles against your sensitive nerves, swirling and playing with your clit until you’re shaking again.

Whimpering, you try to squirm away from his hand as the pleasure becomes overwhelming, stimulation bordering on too much, too fast until it hurts. “Tetsu,” you gasp, choking out his name. “I can’t—”

He slaps your thigh once. Twice. Then grabs your ass and grinds you against his cock, reaching so deep inside you. “No, no, no,” he mumbles nonsensically. “Not yet. We’re not done yet. Not until you give me one more.” Your walls flutter around him, slick walls sucking him in. “Fuck, that’s it, kitten. Just like that.” He wets his lips, mouth on your neck. “Cum for me again. Such, a good girl.”

Kuroo’s hand wraps around your throat again, squeezing hard. You choke, unable to breathe, and your eyes squeeze shut. You pull his hair. Rake your fingernails down his back. Desperate for anything to hold onto as your muscles twitch and tense. You’re so close. You’re so fucking close.

Squealing, you flinch as his clever fingers sneak back to your clit, determined to make you cum one more time.

And you do, clenching around him beautifully, pussy gripping him tight. All you can do is shake and gasp as another orgasm tears through you, the coil in your gut snapping for the second time tonight. Dark spots float across your vision as you cum on his cock, Kuroo moaning against your ear as he follows you. Hot, thick fluid fills you up as he continues to thrust inside of you, drawing out your release.

You gasp as his hand leaves your throat, panting and dizzy.

Kuroo cradles you against his chest, careful not to drop you as he presses his lips against your temple, murmuring words too low for you to hear. He pulls out slowly, his cum dripping down your thighs as he carries you to his bed.

It’s a few minutes later, when you’re curled up beside him and drowsy, that you remember everything from earlier.

“I’m sorry for trying to use Daichi to make you jealous,” you murmur against the crook of his neck, eyes fluttering shut as his fingers lazily caress your skin, drawing mindless patterns across your back as you cuddle against his side. “I don’t…” you bite your lip as you trail off, and Kuroo’s arm tightens around your waist almost protectively. “I don’t want you to feel like that. I don’t want you to think you can’t trust me. And I don’t want you to think I don’t trust you.”

Your voice is barely a whisper by the end, words breathed against his chest and swallowed up by the stillness of the room.

Kuroo tilts his chin to rest his head against yours. His fingers still against your side as he glances at you, focusing on the curve of your jaw in the half-light. “It’s okay,” he tells you just as softly. Gently, he pulls you a little closer, heaving a loud, obnoxious sigh. “I get it, he’s just so dummy thick. How could anyone resist that?”

Trying not to laugh, you weakly slap at his bare chest, but Kuroo just grabs your hand and smoothly laces his fingers with yours. “Stop,” you whine, tucking your flushed face against his shoulder. Warm lips press against your knuckles, and you can feel him trying not to laugh underneath you.

“Am I not thick enough for you, kitten?” he continues, voice dripping with faux hurt. You roll your eyes, peeking up at him only to find a pout on his lips. At your silence, Kuroo props himself up on his elbow so that he can look at you. “Damn, maybe Bokuto’s right, I shouldn’t skip leg day tomorrow. Shit, maybe I should go right now—”

He moves to get off the bed and you groan, unamused. “Tetsu.” You catch his hand before he can go far, and he lets you pull him down on top of you. “Stop teasing me.”

“You love it,” he murmurs, pressing a sloppy kiss against your cheek. “You know, maybe Yukie should compliment my thighs more. You’re pretty hot when you’re jealous.” His lips move to your neck, and you try not to roll your eyes again. As if he didn’t just fuck the hell out of you because he was jealous. Before you get the chance, Kuroo leans back to look at you. His knuckles slide against your cheek. “You okay? Need anything.” You shake your head and he kisses your cheek. “That’s my good girl.” He’s quiet for a minute. “You know I’m yours, right?”

Heart clenching in your chest, you murmur an affirmative.

“Good.”

As he settles back down, you let him cover you like a clingy, weighted blanket, his touch comforting as he wraps himself around you.

The sweet moment ends abruptly. The apartment door opens and closes loudly, a warning that your roommates are home. It’s quiet for a moment, but then Akaashi’s loud “son of a bitch!” when he sees your clothes on the floor makes your eyes fly open.

Kuroo buries his face against your hair and cackles.

[midearthwritings]

A Fighter With Invisible Scars

Fíli is there to comfort you when you are haunted by memories of the past.

Words Count : 1,518

Pairing : Fíli x Reader (Established)

Warning : Past abusive relationship, PTSD

Author's note : This was requested by @jojo-javabean24 . I hope I included every element of your request, but I believe I did good, so hope you like it :) Also, if anyone reading this is stuck in an abusive relationship, you are not alone, don't be scared to reach out for help. It's never your fault.

Strong hands grabbed both of your wrists and tried to pull you away.

"I'm taking you back home!"

You tried to fight, to scream, to call for Fili's name. But it seemed like he couldn't hear you. Like he couldn't see you either.

Slowly, everything turned black. Blinded, you felt pressure around your throat, and a voice whispering menacingly :

"You belong to me."

You woke up. Burning tears were running down your cheeks. The room wasn't cold and yet, you were shaking. The bedsheets were entangled around your body, and you were covered only below the waist. But when you looked to your side, Fili seemed to be still sound asleep.

So you got out of bed and walked to the balcony. The fresh air came harshly, biting at the skin of your face.

Every night, since Erebor had been retaken, it was the same nightmare that haunted your nights. A ghost, from your past, who was creeping behind you during the day, and attacking full force at night. You sighed and looked up to the sky. The moon was big and bright, and there wasn't any clouds for the stars to hide behind.

"Will it ever stop...?" You asked to no one in particular.

Perhaps, the universe would hear your complaint and help you heal.

A hand gently found its place on your hip, startling you.

"What will stop?"

You turned to face your husband and offered him a smile.

"Fili. Are you not sleeping?"

But he was no fool and you knew he could see through your faked happiness. He always did.

"I woke up to an empty bed." He said. "I was worried."

Guiltily, your eyes fell to observe your feet. No matter how hurt you were, you hated to see Fili worrying about you. Even when you knew it was legitimate.

"I can sense that something is troubling you..." He said quietly. "Won't you tell me what it is? I wish to help."

With tears filling your eyes, you looked up at him, smiling sadly.

"It is nothing, really." You replied, taking his hands in yours. "Just some silly nightmares."

It wasn't. If it had been as simple as just some silly nightmares, everything would have been fine.

But it was more that that. It was the emptiness you felt when hearing innocent words that had been used to hurt you in the past. It was the gut clenching fear to be sent away whenever you and Fili had a disagreement. It was the vivid memories you didn't even know you had, unexpectedly assaulting your mind. And most of all, it was the guilt you felt each time your lover, the one you had married, had to put his own feelings aside to take care of you.

Like now, as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, in the middle of the night when he had duties to attend the next day.

"It is said that dreams reflect how your heart feels." The prince explained. "If you're not at peace, your dreams won't be either."

He was right. It had been a long time since you last felt peace, and therefore, since you had a goodnight sleep.

You trusted Fili. Of course. And if it hadn't been that hard, you would have told him long ago. But everytime you tried to tell him, the words got stuck in the back of your throat, and voices from long ago would convince you not to say anything.

With a desperate sigh, your head fell on his shoulder and you shut your eyes, feeling the prince's arms wrap around your waist protectively.

Are you really going to bother him for a stupid dream? You're nothing but a burden and he stays with you only because he pities you. Did you really think someone could love you? How can you think that you're even worthy of love?

The voice was pounding in your head. It was always there. Not matter how bad you wanted it to go away, it was there. In a weak attempt to keep the tears from falling, you bit your bottom lip.

"I do not want to be parted from you Fili..." You admitted with a broken sob, bringing your arms around his neck.

"Why would you be, ghivashel?" The prince asked, rubbing your back in soothing circles.

It was in these exact moments you wished you would have been able to explain everything.

"What if you grow tired of me?" You mumbled instead. "I know I'm not easy to live with..."

Fili's laugh echoed in the night.

"I could never." He affirmed. "Plus, I'm not the easiest either. We both have flaws that make us imperfect beings. And that's exactly why we're so good for each other. You're my One and I wish for you to stay by my side until my dying day."

His One. A smile crept on your face at the appellation.

"For real?" You asked softly.

"Of course. Why else do you think I married you?"

You let out a happy sigh, thinking back to the day you and Fili had swore to love each other for the rest of your lives. It had been grand, and people from neighborhood realms had been invited, since Fili was royalty. There had been tons of delicious dishes, and festive music that kept everybody dancing all night long.

But this short moment of relief faded away as you thought of your first promised one. If you had stayed back there instead of taking your belongings and running away, all you had built with Fili wouldn't have existed. And deep inside, the idea that your abuser could come back and reclaim you was terrifying.

"What if..." You began, your fingers playing with his blonde hair. "What if someone came and took me away from you? Away from this place?"

The dwarf raised his eyebrow and gently cupped one of your cheeks with his hand. It still surprised you sometimes, how gentle he could be. Fili was a great warrior on the battlefield. And yet, in the privacy of your room, hidden from the world's eyes, he was a delicate and tender being.

"This place, my âzyungel, is your home." He reassured you, his thumb caressing your skin. "And I hope that no one is stupid enough to try and take away the future king's consort."

"But what if someone actually is that stupid?" You pressed, turning your head to kiss his palm.

"Well in that case, I hope they are ready to deal with me. And my brother and uncle. And every single person who lives here. Because you're not going anywhere, unless you decide to leave."

How can he think I would ever want to leave? You thought, unconsciously moving closer to his chest. And where would you go? Erebor was now your home. He had said it, hadn't he?

A strong buzzing resonated in your ears, and all you could feel was confusion.

Did he say that because he wants me to leave?

You felt a lump grow in your throat. Nauseous. You felt nauseous.

"Never. I never wish to leave you. I belong here, I belong with you." You cried out, your tears finally rolling down your face.

Panicked, Fili's eyes widened. It was hard for him, to find the right words without knowing what was hurting you. And he wished you would tell him, but if you weren't ready, then he would wait and do his best to be there for you.

The prince brought your hands to his lips and pressed soft kisses to your knuckles.

"I'm sorry..." He apologized. "I'm so sorry my love. I didn't mean to upset you in any way."

How much time you spent crying in your prince's arms? You wouldn't be able to tell. But he rocked you back and forth gently, whispering in your ear about how much he loved you, how he was happy to have you in his life, and how he would never ever leave you.

When your sobs finally stopped, your eyes were puffy red and painful, and you definitely had one of the biggest headache now. Noticing that you were finally calm, Fili smiled at you sadly.

"I do not know who hurt you so much that you believe I will ever want you to go away..." He whispered. "But I hope that, wherever they are, they pay the price of their actions. And if I ever cross their path, I will personally make sure that they do."

You tiredly nuzzled your face in the crook of his neck and pressed a soft kiss to his skin.

"I am sorry for keeping you awake." You murmured.

"Don't apologise. I would gladly give away my sleep if that means I can make you feel better."

"Fili..." You reprimanded, smiling weakly. "Don't say such things. Let's go back to bed.."

You felt your lover nod in agreement and as you both went back to the comfort of your bed sheets, you knew that you were safe and that no one would ever take you away from him.

---------

Translation :

Âzyungel → love of loves

Ghivashel → treasure of all treasures

[teamxdark]

They say the pen is mightier than the sword...

My Dearest Arthur,

Today, as I was heading back to the castle, Galahad stopped me. He pointed out a bird, small and blue like the sky, drinking from a puddle on the ground. We both stopped, watching it as it drank its fill, stretched its wings, and flew away.

It made me think of you.

My love, you try so hard to be the best leader for us all. You do it without complaint, struggling with the problems of a populace, making the decisions that a lesser being wouldn't dare consider. I know how much this burden crushes you, but all the same, I cannot for the life of me think of anyone more worthy than you to hold such power.

I have heard the complaints of those who disagree with your choices. They throw about opinions without care for consequences. They know nothing of the thought you put into every decision you make, and every time I hear some scoundrel run their mouth about how they would do better than you, I feel the urge to silence them, with my words or my blade, I care not which.

The things you do to me, my love...

Yes, you are the most worthy king, of that, I am certain, but you are also the most deserving of the freedom you crave. I see it, Arthur. I see the way you stare out the window, into the sky, beyond the clouds, with such profound longing that I know and understand all too well. It is enough to make a man weep.

...I have wept, I must admit. For you, and over you. If I could grant you your freedom, I would do so in a heartbeat, even if it meant that you would be gone, leaving like that bird, flying away without a backwards glance and never looking back. My grief at your absence would only be assuaged by the knowledge that you are finally unburdened. That you are happy.

Sometimes, I like to imagine that you take me with you. I imagine your hand in mine, and your smile reaching your eyes, the portrait of joy that should never have left your face, and I follow you, just as I have vowed, to the ends of the earth and into the world beyond this life.

I know it is selfish. I know it is impossible. You, Arthur, are the most selfless man I know. I have seen you grow over many years, becoming more and more responsible with time and experience. It is I who has become selfish. It is I who indulges these fantasies of taking you away to bask in your brilliance that I can never get enough of. But you could never betray your people. You could never say yes to a premature freedom. You will not be king forever, and this we both know, and you are willing to wait for the end of your reign while I still imagine ripping you from this life without a care for those that remain behind.

My desires are inconsiderate, not just to you, but to everything you've worked for. To everyone who needs you. To those who need me, too.

I shall never be worthy of you, Arthur, but my heart shall never beat for anyone else in the way it does for you.

Forever yours,

Lancelot

...

Darling Arthur,

Do you remember when we were young? Do you remember when we were but boys, training until we were collapsed on the ground, day after day?

Do you remember the first time you called me 'Lance'?

I hated it back then. I warned you to never call me anything but 'Lancelot' again, for it was my name. It was the name my mother had given me, my mother who saved me and chose me before I even knew how to walk. My name was my link to her, an important part of my identity and my proof of being wanted.

I was, truly, a stupid child.

Now, I treasure the name you gave to me. I do not allow anyone else to use it. 'Lance' is the name you bestowed upon me, a name to signify our own link, our bond... one so close that it makes me dizzy with happiness when I remember just how much we mean to each other. I now hold that name close to my heart, next to my mother's 'Lancelot' and my son's 'Father'.

It pains me that I do not have such a name to give you, my love, save for the endearments in these letters that I shall never send. Yet I never miss how blissful you look when I call you by your given name. You appear unhappy by 'Your Majesty'. You appear troubled by 'my liege'. You appear vexed by 'Sire'.

And so, when I am able, I call you by your name. I call you my friend, so that you know that I love you and that you mean the world to me. You always have, even before my feelings shifted into what they are now.

I see you smile and it is as if I have been struck by lightning. I hear you laugh and I fear I might swoon. If I do even one thing to make you happy, I feel as though I am walking on air, and I wish to do it again, and again, and again, over and over, endless until you never know pain again.

Arthur, the way I feel for you consumes me, like a fire that will never go out. My feelings scorch me, leaving burns and scars that will never fully go away, hidden on the inside where you will never see them. You will never truly know just how deeply this arrow from Cupid's bow has pierced me... I dare say he's emptied his quiver on me, for the mere thought of life without you, without your smile, your warmth, your brilliance, your bravery, your understanding, without you and everything that you are...

I don't dare tell you about these newer feelings of mine. I know you, and I know you will not treat me any different if my particular type of love for you does not match that of yours for me, but my head is clouded by fear. I cannot stop imagining that you shall become uncomfortable in my presence, that you will hold me away at arm's length, that you will look for someone else to court in an attempt to help me move on... All the possibilities are so painful, Arthur. I would rather nothing changed, even though I know my fear is irrational. I should believe in our bond, trust in our friendship, rely on the knowledge that you would never push me away...

I am a coward, my love. To be called the Ultimate Knight feels like a joke, for I am so afraid that I cannot listen to the logic in my own head. My strength of body means nothing if my strength of mind is as fragile as glass.

Yet, even as I long for something different in my relationship with you, I cannot say that I am unhappy with what I do have with you. Perhaps this, too, is why I will not speak these words nor send these letters, for what I already have with you, such a close, personal friendship, is more than I can ask for.

You have always been enough for me, Arthur.

Eternally yours,

Lancelot

...

Glorious Arthur,

I must apologize. I must, for I fear my mind is spinning out of my own control.

Every day I think of you. Every morning when I wake up, every night as I go to sleep, in every spare moment of my life, you are in my waking thoughts.

You haunt my dreams, too. At all moments, it seems, my mind conspires against me. All I want is to be happy with what I have with you, but it appears my desires are only growing, not fading, with time, and they eat me alive with every passing day.

I imagine your forehead against mine, with your hands on my waist. You lift your head, kissing me once on each eyelid, and I feel weaker than I ever have in my life.

I imagine your hands, removing my armor so that they may rest upon me, touching my back, my shoulders, my chest, all areas that I keep guarded under steel and promises. You disarm me, and I allow it. My foolish heart wishes to be vulnerable before you, for I know I will always be able to trust you with myself.

I imagine the lightest touches on my arms, spreading like trails of fire as your fingers slide along my person, and I let myself be consumed.

I imagine your lips pressing to mine, and I lose the ability to breathe.

I imagine your eyes, looking into mine, glowing with care and love and happiness, and I drown without a second thought.

Sometimes I dream of things I dare not write down here, my sweet, for it makes my face burn and my heart race and all I want to do is apologize for thinking of you in such a way. It feels terrible, as though I am taking advantage of you in my thoughts, and I fear that one day you will discover the fantasies of my mind and feel discomfort or disgusted by me.

If I ever lost you, Arthur, I know my world would shatter, and I would never become whole again.

Apologetically yours,

Lancelot

...

Arthur,

I can't stand it. Today, I cannot stand it at all.

I feel desperate, like a caged animal. I feel my soul clawing at my body from within, needing to come out and indulge. My composure is in shambles, my mind is in disarray, and though you are not at fault, it is all because of you.

Arthur, I burn for you. My heart screams and cries out and it's painful. Every inch of me aches for the smallest touch, I long for the basest of acknowledgement from you, a look, a word, a smile, Chaos, anything! Just the thought of you giving me your attention sends me into a fit, and I know that even the brush of your arm against mine as you pass me in the corridor would be enough to bring me to ecstasy!

My head is pounding, my ears playing and replaying the sound of my name coming from your lips, and I crave it. I crave you, my love, and it has never been so powerful or so consuming before. I don't know what is wrong with me. I don't know why today is the day that I might go mad. I am afraid, Arthur. I am afraid that my need for you is pushing me to the brink of madness and that I will not be able to stop myself from jumping down into it.

Arthur, the love of my life, how can I even begin to fully describe this? I've written so much and yet it is only a crumb of what is flaring inside me. I think of you and I burn up. You are not an inferno, for that is a small candle compared to the one that burns inside me. You are nothing less than the sun in the sky, approaching me to incinerate me in an instant, but even that feels like a pale comparison today.

Arthur, I am deeply sorry, but I fear writing this is only making things worse. I must stop before I

...

My love,

My upcoming mission to Acorn Kingdom is fast approaching. Soon it will be time for me to depart. I hope that, when that day comes, you are not too busy to see me off.

I will miss you terribly while I am gone, but I take peace in knowing that I am doing this for Avalon, and for you. To make this world a better place, and for you to have one less thing to worry about.

It's pathetic, is it not? As a knight, I should be focusing on the best for my kingdom, as I vowed to when you first let Caliburn descend upon my shoulders and gave to me my title, and yet I know the truth.

It's for you, Arthur. It's always been for you.

...

In his study, the king shoves away the stack of letters, his face burning as a chorus of emotion swells within him, unable to take the guilt at having read so many of Lancelot's secret letters. His hands tremble as he searches around his desk for something to write with.

...

Dear Lancelot,

My wonderful Lancelot,

To Lance,

My dearest

Lance,

Please come see me when you have a moment to yourself. Do not be afraid.

Yours,

Arthur

[bangtae-sohotddaeng]

we’ll be counting stars | k.th. | 4

(^ gif cred: ON THE VOYAGE | pinterest)

pairing: idol!Taehyung x publisher!Reader

rating: nc-17 (for language and themes)

summary: You’d sworn off love and relationships forever. You were here to do your job - work with the biggest boyband of the world. Not forge friendships and...and whatever it was that you and Taehyung were building up with these sneaky glances. It was, to be very fair, your Chief Editor’s fault that you’d landed in this mess. Maybe you should quit your job? Maybe you should quit life -

Oh, he was staring again, and did he freaking lick his lips?

warnings: swearing (reader’s got a potty mouth) + this is set like 5 years in the future + reader has emotional issues, she's a relationship phobe + mentions of weed

genre: so much ANGST ugh + fluff + comedy + some crack

words: 4.6 k

note: hey, y'all. i know i've been awol and i'm really sorry about it, but, well - first i went back to uni for a while and got busy with my classes and my boyfriend. but this lasted for, like, barely three weeks, and then i came back home and got covid. yep, i finally got unlucky. my parents got it, too, after me, and the three of us had been home quarantined and getting treated for the past month or so. we're in better health now, though, so i'm getting back into writing. here's hoping i pick up speed super quick! 💜

< prev | next >

series masterlist

gimme feedback, much much appreciated!

Your first week of heading this project with all its roadblocks and exhaustion, as it turned out, had merely been a taste of what was to come.

Your Wednesday at work began on a positive note, though. 

Towards the middle of the day, your phone rang, making both you and Jungkook jump. 

Cursing, you pursed your lips at Jungkook apologetically, and fished the device out. He nodded at you with a chuckle. 

Looking at your phone screen, you realised this was a call you'd been waiting for.

“Hello?” you answered.

“Hello, ma’am. I’m calling to inform you that we’re done.”

Your eyebrows immediately hiked up your forehead. “Wow, really? That’s great news!”

“Yeah, the cleaners will be in tomorrow morning. You can move in by tomorrow evening.”

You actually grinned. “That’s such fantastic news! Thank you so much, Mister Lin. I’ll initiate your payment later, today.”

“Anytime, ma’am. Thank you.”

You disconnected the call with a happy sigh. Jungkook squinted at you. “That sounded like a fun conversation.”

You nodded, smiling. “Our team is moving into an apartment, tomorrow.”

“Wow! You’ve been in the hotel for what, ten days now? Must feel nice!” Jungkook’s eyes sparkled.

You nodded with a sigh, shutting your eyes in relief. “Oh, yes. We’d made reservations at the hotel for fifteen days. We had to move into the apartments within this week. This feels so amazing. I’ll finally be able to prepare my own food.”

Jungkook giggled at that, scrunching his nose up. “Where’s the apartment? Hope it isn't too far.”

“Oh, no, it’s a few blocks away from here. Which is why we had to book a hotel in the first place. We needed two four-bedroom apartments on the same floor, in this specific radius, in three days.” You paused to laugh when Jungkook’s jaw dropped with a gasp. “It was a very hard find. But our agent was sharp, he did a great job.” You clapped your hands together. “I cannot wait to check out of the damn hotel.” 

Jungkook nodded in understanding. “Hotels are hard. It could be a seven star luxurious penthouse, but you’d still wanna run away from it after a while.” 

He seemed to be speaking from his personal experience, but running away from a seven star luxurious penthouse? You couldn’t relate. You hated your hotel because the curtains weren’t dark enough and the mattress was stiff and you couldn’t afford getting any of them changed. You also hated having to order Chinese every single day, but you also knew you’d be emptying your bank account if you got anything else.

None of this would trouble someone living in a seven star’s penthouse. But you didn’t want to make Jungkook uncomfortable by stating any of this when he was just trying to be a bit compassionate and empathetic.

“Food doesn’t bother me that much, though,” Jungkook continued after a thoughtful pause. “We’re usually either on diets or order takeout. I personally hate the mattresses.”

“Oh yes,” you sighed deeply, the kink in your upper back in absolute agreement. “I’m not really a fan of sleeping anywhere other than my mattress back at home, but hotel beds are the worst of it.”

Jungkook chuckled, nodding. “I completely understand. You remember that story I told you about lugging my beddings over to our dorm when we first moved into one?”

You nodded with a laugh. “Oh, yes. The rest of the boys were getting new mattresses, and you were busy dragging your mattress from your parents’ house. It may sound hilarious, but it’s actually very relatable.”

Jungkook looked a bit bashful as he nodded. “You know, when we first started preparing for our first tour, I had a half a mind to take it with me.”

You barked out a loud laugh at that, the mental image of Jungkook dragging a seven by four piece of bedding around and stuffing it into trailers. He laughed, too.

“Yeah, it was funny and really stupid. Half the time we didn’t even get to sleep in the bed we had taken with us, but whenever we did, I was nodding off the second my head hit the pillow.” Jungkook’s eyes sparkled as he went down the memory lane. “That one was nothing in comparison to the tours we go on now, but it was our first ever experience so it was still pretty difficult adjusting, Tour schedule is a different level of hectic, you know? You don’t have time to eat, you don’t have time to sleep. Just rehearsals and fittings and sound checks. I would fall asleep in makeup chairs,” he confessed with a chuckle, shaking his head fondly, “and when noona would wake me up, I would recall how I wanted to bring my mattress here. Such naivete.”

You smiled, nodding along. You hadn’t yet gotten to the tour discussion yet, as it was planned out for the third month of your blueprint, so all of this was brand new to you. But, at this moment you didn’t want to bring up plans and blueprints. Jungkook was compassionately being candid with you. You were becoming friends, beyond your professional boundaries.

Sighing, you decided to impart something personal, too. “When I moved to the States and got into this company, I rented the apartment with an old friend who was already living there. And it wasn’t my first time living in a house away from my parents. I’d been a university student, lived in dorms then rented apartments, both solo and shared.” Jungkook looked at you pensively, nodding with a little furrow in his eyebrows. “But when I got to this apartment, got all this brilliant furniture set up, all new and fresh, I couldn’t sleep. I missed my home.” Jungkook’s eyes softened, lips pressing down into an understanding smile. “Not the dorm, not the studio I’d been renting—I missed my childhood bed.” You exhaled, recalling all your sleepless nights. “There's this connection you build with the place you call home. I’m sure you must have started to feel this way about your dorms as time went on.”

Jungkook softly smiled, nodding as he looked into space. “Very correct. Tour life made me realise this exact fact.”

You both sat in a few minutes’ quiet, basking in the nostalgic atmosphere you’d built around you.

Then Jungkook grinned at you. “Now you’ll get to experience real Seoul life.”

You laughed. “Oh, yes. And I honestly can’t wait for it. The local markets, the grocery stores, everything. Everything here is very unlike home.”

“I’m sure you’ll love it!” Jungkook exclaimed, wiggling his eyebrows smugly.

You went back to work soon after, with Jungkook tossing in questions about your move and suggestions about what all you should do in the city, every now and then.

It was a good, productive, joyous day. You were hardly even tired when you got back to your hotel to spend your last night on that stiff ass mattress.

Thursday had started off pretty much the same, except for you guys taking a slightly early departure to spare some extra time to set your new place up after your belongings were moved.

By late night, you were all settled in two, pleasant, well-furnished, well ventilated four-bedroom apartments, next to each other. Your housemates consisted of Sana and Simon. Needless to say, you weren’t a fan. But you needed a room to build the office in and you preferred it to be under the same roof as your bedroom because you tended to work odd hours when you couldn’t sleep. Simon and Sana volunteered to share the apartment with the office and you, so you didn't exactly have room for complaint.

From getting the apartment cleaned one last time to accept you all, to ensuring none of you had left anything significant behind in your hotel rooms—you didn’t trust the hotel staff enough to not misuse it if they found anything related to BTS in one of your rooms—you had been the one that took care of it all. It was kinda on you, because you didn’t trust anyone from your team to do the latter responsibly. So, quite naturally, you were dead on your feet by the time you got into your soft as a cloud beddings at nearly 3 o’clock in the morning. Sleep pulled you in the seconds you rugged your covers up.

You were very dead on your feet when you got to the BTS dorm, five hours after you’d gotten into bed. You hadn’t had a drop of alcohol in your system for more than a few weeks, now, but man did you have a hangover.

So it goes without saying that when you bumped into someone on your way to Jungkook’s studio, your eyes were half shut. You wouldn’t have thought much of it and might have slinked away with a mumbled apology, if not for the familiar voice than greeted you.

“Good morning. Looks like you had a rough night?”

You blinked, miles away from sleep within a second when your eyes met a familiar pair of brown ones. Taehyung was dressed in the routine BTS loungewear that consisted of a pastel t-shirt that was one too many sizes bigger on him and dark sweatpants that covered his feet. His hair was the usual black and curly, mostly pulled away from his forehead with a few tendrils dangling over his brows.

Your interaction with him had been meagre throughout this week, only consisting of respectful nods of greetings and waves of goodbyes. You’d meant to ask him how Simon was doing and how he felt about his ideas being taken now, after you’d had a talk with Simon about it. But you didn’t know what you would do if he said he was hating how things were and wanted you to do something about it. So you had kept your mouth shut and watched from the sidelines as you tried to gauge Taehyung’s inner feelings by his facial expressions. 

He was an extremely closed off guy, never really letting his face show what he was truly feeling. But sometimes you would catch him looking into space as if he was zoning out of his conversation with Simon. Now, he could very well be thinking deeply about something Simon said—you really couldn’t be sure with the guy. But it had you worried, nevertheless.

God. Why did Simon have to pick out Taehyung’s name?

By the time you realised you’d been staring at him for too long, he had realized it too. “Anything wrong with my… hair?��� he innocently questioned, threading his fingers through the front of it.

“No!” you yelped, making him flinch. “I mean, no, it’s not that. I, um. We were moving into our apartments last night and it got kinda late. My brain’s processing things a bit slow, today.”

Taehyung chuckled at that, nodding with his teeth on display. “It’s okay. Congratulations on the move. Hotels suck.”

You sighed. “Tell me about it.”

Awkward silence hung over the two of you as you looked at the floor, at your feet, at his feet, tried to discern if his pants were very dark gray or blue, cleared your throat, scratched your ear, met his shifty eyes again— 

“How…how is working with Jungkook?”

His question caught you off-guard. You looked at him in surprise. “Uh…it’s, um. It’s good. Very comfortable, very productive. It’s great, actually.”

Taehyung nodded, pursing his lips as he looked down again. “Simon has been a better listener this week. Did you talk to him?”

A weight was lifted off your shoulders on hearing that. You grinned at him with all your teeth. “Really? That is really good to know. Comforting, even. I did talk to him, yes.”

Taehyung looked into your eyes as his lips spread into a slow, soft smile. “Thank you so much for doing this for me. I thought you would think I was stupid for demanding so much, but…” He shrugged his shoulder, one corner of his lips ticking farther up his cheek. “You made it work. I feel so much better now.”

You exhaled, willing your heart to not beat so fast. It was your job to ensure they were all comfortable, this was part of what you were getting paid for. But somehow, the way Taehyung seemed to have taken it so personally made you not wanna mention the fact in the moment.

Also, he didn’t know how this wouldn’t last. You’d been giving Simon tips to handle himself professionally around Taehyung, literally every single day. It kept the wheel running, but it was tiring both of you out, immensely. Simon was out of his element and you were getting slowly overwhelmed and under-rest due to the amount of responsibilities piling on for you. You were determined to talk this out with your boss, this Sunday, and find a way out before you broke.

Right now, though, you gave Taehyung a bashful smile. “I wanted you to be comfortable and feel good about working on this project, Tae. I am constantly working out plans to better it.”

Taehyung looked at you with so many emotions swimming in his eyes, that the intensity of it almost made you wanna look away. But you didn’t. Instead, you tried to decode what any of it could mean. 

This time the silence between you two was not awkward in the least. It was charged—heavy with this unknown tautness between your mind and heart and this indecipherable look in Taehyung’s eyes.

“Tae?”

The trance was broken by Jin, startling both of you.

He walked into the halfway from behind Taehyung, peering around him with a frown. His eyes widened when he saw you. You immediately bowed, always extremely cautious about being respectful around BTS’ oldest member. “Good morning, Jin-ssi.”

He chuckled at your address, insisting that you didn’t have to bow every single time. “Just the respectful good morning is fine. Did you just get here?”

You nodded, subtly glancing at Taehyung whose eyes were slightly rounded and still stuck on you. Why was he acting like you two were caught by Jin? You’d just been greeting each other and catching up!

Right?

Right.

“Ah! There comes Riya!” Jin suddenly announced the arrival of his partner on your team, cutely waving at someone behind you.

Your teammate Riya walked into the hallway after you, having walked here on her own insistence. “Good morning, Jin-ssi. Taehyung-ssi. Boss.”

You smiled at her, nodding in acknowledgement of the respect she paid. “Where’s Simon?” you questioned.

“Just here!” the man himself responded, rushing in after Riya. 

You met Taehyung’s eyes, and he nodded with a meaningful look and a small smile on his lips. Your heart felt light.

The unexpectedly happy and positive start you’d gotten in the morning lasted with you the whole day, making your time with Jungkook a lot fun, and fulfilling in terms of work, too.

When Sunday came in and you received your boss’ call, her first question was about how well you were settled in the apartments, followed by how you’d handled things with Simon. You had done a decent job on the former, but the latter was gradually turning out to be a pain in your ass. You told your boss as much.

“Drag it out for another week, and then design a change of gameplan. If he really isn’t doing a good enough job by himself, it’s better if he works with someone else. This whole charade will tire both of you out. And V would be facing issues, too, if Simon’s heart isn’t into it.” Your boss had looked at you solemnly through the computer screen.

“Simon’s heart’s a bit too much into it, boss, that’s the whole issue.” You had derisively chuckled at your joke, but her words had left you thinking into the late hours of the night.

Taehyung had definitely been facing issues, you’d heard it from the man himself. And the respite he thought he’d gotten this week was momentary, because neither you nor Simon could honestly keep up with it for too long. And it was very unfair to Taehyung. This book was supposed to showcase a part of all the boys. A biography was the culmination of one’s whole life—something very personal, precious and endearing. The process of its creation should have been a similar experience for the boys, too.

You really would have to assign someone else to Taehyung.

On Monday morning, you knocked at Simon’s door at seven.

“Just this week, and then you switch,” you told him.

“Really? Oh, my God, thank you so much!” Simon cried out.

“Please accommodate him the best you can.” You sighed. “I’m too tired to give you notes everyday. Will you be able to manage?”

“I’ll accommodate him the best I can, just as you said.”

You hadn’t taken his word for it, but it seemed like the knowledge of his misery ending soon had done Simon well. He did a fair job of maintaining his professional composure, and on Tuesday, when you went in to grab a cup of coffee from the kitchen, you saw the two of them laughing about something, too. Taehyung had politely greeted you, exchanging more than a nod for the first time in more than ten days—minus that one altercation in the hallway, of course—and then immediately went back into the discussion.

He seemed to be really into it.

It made you feel a lot better. 

On Friday, you and Jungkook went for a walk by the pool in the late afternoon with a cup of ice cream in your hands. He brought up Taehyung, asking how the elder was doing.

“You told me he was having some trouble with his partner?” Jungook asked, biting into a huge glob of chocolate ice-cream like a maniac and braving the brainfreeze with a straight face.

You grimaced at the sight. Then exhaled, plopping a spoonful from your own ice cream into your mouth. “He’s doing a lot better, now. It might not last, though”

Jungkook, instead of quizzing your ominous statement, nodded in understanding. “Does it have something to do with what I told you about hyung’s personality?”

You sighed. “Pretty much. We might have to change his partner.”

Jungkook paused at that. “Is there a possibility that…” He trailed off, confused, doe eyes looking at you.

You couldn’t lie to him. You shrugged. “Everything’s on the plate.”

On Sunday evening, you decided to gather the team for the call with your boss. Sending them a quick message once you all got home, you hopped into the bathroom for a long, relaxing showe. 

When you came back, you stepped into your office to the welcome sight of your team occupying bean bags and chairs and spread across the entire surface area of the place.

Collectively, you all brought up Taehyung’s partner with the Editor-in-Chief.

“Why don’t you do it, Y/N?” your boss questioned you after the rest of them had briefed her with their progress so far and detailed out their future plans with their assigned boys.

You sighed. “I have been doing just as great as the rest of them, boss. It wouldn’t be ideal for me to stop working with Jungkook after we’ve been making such great progress.”

Your boss took her glasses off, the highlight on her nose glistening as her movement caught light. She shook her and then sighed. “One of you is going to have to make a sacrifice.”

Simon, rightfully, flinched with a guilty face.

“So either you talk one of your team members into doing it, or you do it yourself. You’ve got one whole week to discuss it. Tell me what you decide, next Sunday.”

You kept tossing and turning in your bed. You’d either have to force one of your team members. Or you’d have to disappoint Jungkook. Your prospects really weren't looking good. 

You would like to believe you and Jungkook had become friends in these three weeks. It is impossible to remain a stone-faced stranger with someone literally relaying the story of his entire life to you. And besides that, too, Jungkook was a very likeable guy. He was a curious soul with a myriad of interests. Taking notes on literally every topic would always branch out into an enthusiastic conversation between the two of you. 

Sighing as you recalled how the two of you had shared your roller-skating experience with each other just today, you shut your eyes and decided to finally go to sleep.

On Monday morning, your team members were gathered in your new office to begin with the scripting process of the biography. As you got down to comparing notes and checking off boxes, each one of you resolutely ignored the gigantic elephant in the room—that fact that one of you would not be working with the same person when this week was up.

Strangely, this forcible change of partners was weighing down on all of you not just because of how much more labour it would cost, but on an emotional level, too. Which was a very unfamiliar concept, at least to you. You never got attached to clients, knowing it would only cause hindrances when you had to criticize their work—which was why they were talking to you in the first place. You had been somewhat lucky too, in a way, because it wasn't easy for you to get attached to people.

But Jungkook turned out to be just a really easy person to get along with. You really had become friends.

This, you suddenly realised, would also mean that Jungkook would make friends with another partner just as easily.

“Guys, remember—it’s not just their story that we’re writing, it’s ours too!” you announced to your team, clapping your hands to raise their spirits as the six of them worked on their computers. “They’re the narrators, sure, but we are the writers. Use your words wherever you find fit, do not hesitate to trim, omit or add. This is what we were hired to do.” 

At noon, you all ordered takeout and took a break.

“We’re all really on schedule, boss,” Riya, Jin’s partner, spoke up from her spot across the room from you. Her rounded eyes narrowed suddenly, and she winced. “Well… except Simon, but we kinda already expected that.”

Simon, seated on a bean bag to your immediate right, cleared his throat. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

“You’ve been really shitty at your job, Si,” Areum, Jimin’s partner, commented, looking at Simon through her round framed glasses, her face displaying disappointment.

“He really has,” you added. “But it cannot go on like this. You’ll have to be really professional with your partner, this time round, Simon. You’ve really done a lot of damage with Taehyung. Boss won’t just pull you off the project if something like this happens again, she’ll fire you.”

Simon visibly gulped, nodding with his wide eyes fixated on you.

“So, who’s gonna take his place?” Nathan, Yoongi’s partner, butted in, prompting Sana to stop stretching. “Have you decided yet?” he asked you.

You exhaled. “Why not ask dear Simon who he wants to work with? The last time he kept protesting about the assigned choice, and I didn't listen. Maybe he’d have done better if the selection of his partner was voluntarily done by him.”

All eyes turned to Simon. He cleared his throat, looking beyond nervous. “Please don’t put me in this spot. One of you will have to let go of a month’s worth of hard work for me, as it is.”

You looked around the room. “Any one of you willing to switch?”

Five pairs of eyes turned to look at you incredulously. “No one’s gonna willingly give their research up for you, Simon,” Charlotte, the only redhead on your team and Hoseok’s partner, spoke with a roll of her eyes. “None of us.”

“Simon,” You sighed. “Choose.”

And then Simon squeezed his eyes shut and fisted both his hands to whisper, “Jungkook…maybe?”

Of fucking course.

Later that night, you had calmed yourself down enough to tell yourself that everything was gonna be okay. You could be a darn hardass professional when you needed to be. In fact, being humble and empathetic was usually what posed a challenge to you. You would very smoothly transition into working with Taehyung, you were sure of it.

You belatedly thought about how much change these past three weeks had already brought about in your nature. You were starting to show a lot more compassion than you’d thought yourself capable of. That kind of came in this job’s description, because biographies made people vulnerable, and vulnerable interviews required compassion. 

You had to unlearn some of the things you’d picked up over the span of your adult life to save yourself from hurt, and also the guilt that came with hurting others. Jungkook also helped, in a way. His openness and just the overall cheerful vibe that his nature eluded made you want to be more of a friend to him than a writing guide or an interviewer.

You wondered how Taehyung would be. 

There was something undeniably intense and mysterious about him. Now, you weren’t naive enough to want to “unravel” the guy’s mysteries, but you sure were irked and curious. Maybe he was one of those kinds of artists that literally lived in their art.

Back when you didn’t work in this company with this hectic schedule and had enough spare time on your hands to write, you used to pride yourself to be one of these kinds of artists, too. You lived in your stories, kept building characters up wherever you went, whatever you did. You wondered if it was something similar with Taehyung for music. 

You would find out, eventually. There was no point pondering it so much.

Sighing, you turned off your side lamp and decided to retire for the night.

Your writing week was gliding past smoothly. It was just Wednesday, and you all, ahead of the schedule, were at the verge of finishing up your writing parts.

“Are we super efficient or did we sign up for a longer duration of time than needed for this whole project?” Sana questioned, typing away on her laptop.

You snorted. “Or maybe, we didn’t design the blueprint with as much uniformity as we’re required to.”

“You don’t always have to critique everything, boss,” Charlotte, Hoseok’s partner chimed in, flipping her long mane of auburn hair off her shoulder as she shot you a look. 

You glared right back at her. “Uh, actually, I do. That’s kind of my job here.”

You’d been harsher than was needed, making the whole room go quiet. Only the clicking of keyboards echoed around you all for a while.

“Where’s Simon?” Nathan, Yoongi’s partner, asked after some time.

You sighed. “In his room, finishing up his writing work there. He doesn’t feel comfortable sitting between all of us because, and I quote, y’all give off really judgy vibes that fuck with my concentration.”

“That might actually be true,” Areum, Jimin’s partner, mumbled in Korean under her breath.

“Did you mail Manager Woo about the switch yet, boss?” Nathan asked you as you got up to get a refill of your coffee.

You exhaled. “Nope, I'm stalling,” you confidently confessed, leaving the office to make a trip to the kitchen. On your way back, you knocked at Simon’s door before peeking in. “You doing okay?” you asked him flatly.

Simon gave you a nod, not moving his gaze from the laptop screen. You rolled your eyes and came back to the office.

“Should one of us do it? If it won’t look too unprofessional?” Sana asked.

You wrinkled your nose. “It would look grossly unprofessional, Sana.” You pursed your lips as you sat behind your laptop again. “Fine, I’ll do it right now.”

You took a sip from your coffee, and opened your email. This was final, now — no coming back.

You were officially gonna start working with Kim Taehyung.

gimme feedback, much much appreciated!

< prev | next >

series masterlist

Tags: @tangledsparkles​ @hoefortaeshands​ @getmemyfries

[zuko-always-lies]

Why Azula Staying a Villain Will Only Lead To Bad Stories Part 2: Negative Effects on Other Characters, World Building, Lore, and Thematic Expression[Submitted by justanotherthrowaway1950]

Part 1 Link: https://zuko-always-lies.tumblr.com/post/662081384160067584/why-azula-staying-a-villain-will-only-lead-to-bad#notes

I know already in part 1 how I briefly mentioned how keeping Azula a villain causes everyone to start acting stupid and incompetent (and thus denigrating them and their arcs/character growth) whenever Azula is involved so Azula can remain a credible threat despite The Gaang all being masters in their respective fields and having the resources of several nation-states at their beck and call plus a PMC (The White Lotus).

But I understand that I didn’t go into details and so my analysis was lackluster at best and very controversial at worse. So I am going to go into detail based on importance and with that said here I go.

Zuko (The Search)

Realistically, other than some minor complaints most people agree that TV!Zuko’s arc is one of the greatest in Western Animation. For the tale of someone who had at times almost given into his abuse and conditioning but, with the help of loving Uncle, his travels, and mercy/compassion showed to him by his enemies/future friends, he had managed to overcome it and start the journey of not only becoming a better person, but also help his country heal after several decades of propaganda and brainwashing.

And part of said arc is what he comes to realize about Azula: that she is not worth emulating; that she is abusive to him and the people he cares about like Mai and Ty Lee; and that she (a genocidal authoritarian colonizer) needs to be stopped and locked up by any means, even if it hurts him. For it is the only way that the world and his country can achieve peace and balance once again…that is until Azula starts showing signs that either she has realized the error of her ways or that she wants to take a new path, but needs help finding it.

But, in an effort to allow Azula to become a villain again, Bryke has Zuko engage in several actions that not only betray his character growth, but worse, aren’t really explained and negatively reflect on him.

Like, during that conference concerning Yu Dao where Zuko “realizes” that the sorry state of his nuclear family negatively reflects on him, why would Zuko care suddenly about what his subjects think of him? 

Did Zuko forget that basically he not only betrayed his nation and caused them to lose a war they had already won, but is also forcing them to pay reparations (as is said in North & South)? 

And that he is going to remain a pariah in his subject’s eyes until he manages to undo the decades of brainwashing considering his only real allies are foreigners, Iroh (who is just as much of a traitor in the FN’s eyes as Zuko), and Mai (who committed treason that led to the FN’s lost) & Ty Lee (who did commit a less extreme version of treason but immediately post-war left to join a foregin military/PMC, which would look suspect in the populance’s eyes)?

But things really start to go sideways when he goes to Azula’s asylum to get Azula to extract intel from Ozai about Ursa, allows the two to talk alone, and foolishly wheels Azula alone while promising to move her back into the palace.

Like when he went to the asylum, how come he didn’t ask them about Azula’s treatment and whether it was safe to take her out to see Ozai (her abuser and co-conspirator), let alone take her back to the palace? Maybe he would have found out she was being abused in the asylum and he could have done something about it so Azula and her fellow inmates could be treated better.

But maybe not considering it is Azula and she deserves to be abused for making Zuko’s life hard from the moment she was born.

Like why would he allow Azula and Ozai to talk alone considering their conniving natures and the fact that they are the two biggest threats to his regime (at least politically)?

Why would he wheel Azula alone, especially after Ty Lee told him that the chi-blocking is wearing off? For I know this depends on how much Ty Lee knows about chi-blocking and its effects (I’ll talk about this more in Ty Lee’s section), but Azula has already shown that she is still hostile/violent towards Zuko. That in combination with her previous showings of being able to escape nearly any situation she finds herself in should have made Zuko wary of being alone with Azula when the chi-blocking wears off instead of trying to have a soft brother-sister moment.

And then that whole sequence where Azula breaks free, and manages to burn every single letter in Ozai’s chest, save for the “Zuko is Ikem’s bastard” letter before blackmailing him into going on the search free, unbound, and with dignity. *Sigh*

Like why would Zuko shoot a fireball of the perfect size and speed that would allow Azula to break free of the chains on her legs instead of, I don’t know, calling the rest of his elite guard to subdue Azula? Especially after she has managed to bullshit instant lighting out of nowhere and thus has tricks that Zuko does not know about?

After Zuko had caught up to her and found out that she had supposedly burned every single letter and tried blackmailing him into going on the search for Ursa free and unbound, how come Zuko didn’t pat her down? For even if he had no way of knowing that she had that “bastard” letter, wouldn’t it be wise to check if she hid any letter on her body? 

I mean this is one of the most trickiest characters in the franchise so why not be extra cautious?

And the whole blackmail situation? Look I understand why Zuko agreed to Azula’s terms for who doesn’t want to find out what happened to their beloved mother? But doesn’t Zuko have a responsibility and duty to the world and his subjects to make sure that Azula remains in jail until she at least tries to reform herself? 

I know this sounds callous, but the moment Azula tried blackmailing him, he should have told her that finding Ursa was not worth letting Azula free and should have jailed her again. For why run the risk that Azula could do something horrible or escape? I mean what could go wrong if she escaped…?

Also, even if she had to be free, unbound, and travel with dignity, why didn’t Zuko have a small platoon with him? For even if he did have The Avatar and the world’s greatest waterbender by his side, shouldn’t Zuko have taken precautions in the event that Aang and Katara got separated from them, leaving just him (I know Zuko is stronger than Crazy!Azula but not to the point that she couldn’t cheapshot him) and Sokka (I know he is a badass, but as of current canon he is still weaker than Crazy!Azula) with her?

But most galling is the fact that he made this decision unilaterally without asking Mai and Ty Lee for their opinion, or, if he was adamant about agreeing to Azula’s terms, not providing them with 24/7 security until Azula was safely back in the asylum and/or prison.

For Azula was not just Zuko’s abuser, she was Mai and Ty Lee’s abusive friend and commander before almost killing Mai (The Boiling Rock Part 2 script said Azula was going to generate lightning) and then throwing the two into jail for life.

Considering that Mai saved Zuko’s life, that Ty Lee saved Mai (who is the love of Zuko’s life) and is part of Zuko’s current protection team, and that the both of them are closest thing to childhood friends that Zuko has, why didn’t Zuko treat them with the respect they deserved? Especially since post-redemption Zuko is someone who is supposed to be empathetic and caring?

But moving on to the rest of The Search, how come after Zuko found out about the “bastard” letter, how come he didn’t burn it? For even if he did want to find out the truth, isn’t it more important that he prevents a civil war by not allowing his “illegitimacy” to become public knowledge. At least until he can give power to Iroh in the case that he was truly a bastard?

Or, even if he didn’t want to burn the letter until Ursa confirmed the accuracy of it, why would he allow Azula to keep it on her person? I mean, what would have happened if she had managed to escape with it on her person? 

Sunshine and roses or a bloody civil war that threatens to undo everything Zuko and his friends fought for in the war?

Which ties into my last point about Zuko’s behavior in The Search (and to segue way into Smoke and Shadow) why the hell did Zuko not chase after Azula?!

For even if he would be risking his life and potentially Noriko’s, couldn’t Zuko have seen the danger in letting Azula free? Especially considering as far as he knew she still had the letter on her person?

Or, once Ursa had her face and memories restored, how come he didn’t leave Katara with Ursa and her family, and search for Azula with Aang and Sokka?

Did Zuko forget that it was all his fault in the first place that his life, as well as Noriko’s, was in danger and that he had a responsibility to the world, his country, and his friends to make sure Azula got back into his custody?

But anyway, even if Azula was still free, at least Azula is no longer a threat to Zuko, his regime, and/or anyone he cares about? 

Right?

Zuko (Smoke & Shadow)

After searching for Azula for a couple of weeks, he goes home and tells Ursa that he “tried.”

But did he really? Cause if we take his word at face value do you know what that means?

(Note: I think his statement could be interpreted to mean that Aang, Katara, Sokka, and him spent weeks searching the old fashioned way. But if that was the case he really didn’t try considering all the options he had. So I am taking Zuko’s statement at face value.)

That means a mentally broken Azula with no allies or no resources, managed to avoid an Avatar State powered seismic sense, June’s shirshu, Toph’s seismic sense, as well as anyone Iroh and/or the White Lotus sent over to help Zuko find his sister.

Do you know what that implies about the competency of everyone involved? How bad that makes them all look?

Anyway moving on, it appears that not only did Zuko fail to issue a public proclamation that Azula had escaped but also failed to give Ty Lee and Mai (and their families) protection. 

For if he had issued a proclamation maybe Azula would have been found earlier instead of being able to break six girls out of her asylum or manipulate the New Ozai Society (NOS)/Safe Nation Society. And in regards to Ty Lee and Mai, even if he felt they didn’t need protection while Azula was free but by his side, the moment she managed to escape him, he should have given them and their families protection.

For Zuko didn’t know that Azula wasn’t seeking revenge; as far as he knew she probably was going to kill everyone between her and the throne, including everyone who betrayed her. And even if Zuko hadn’t seen Mai since their break up, Ty Lee is part of his detail and thus Zuko should have realized how paranoid and scared she was and asked her what he could have done to alleviate her fears as well as her best friend Mai’s as well.

And Zuko still makes similar grave errors even after he finds out that Azula is behind the kidnappings and after he had found out that she had been manipulating the NOS/Safe Nation Society as part of a long-term plan to turn Zuko into a tyrant.

For after Kiyi’s kidnapping, instead of issuing curfews, searching Caldera City citizen’s homes without cause, and engaging in mass jailing of anyone who was on the streets when the Safe Nation Society was rioting he should have called all of the Gaang and had Iroh call the White Lotus before starting an all out manhunt for Azula and her followers.

And he especially should have done this after she told him his plan and he found that Aang had gotten knocked out by Azula’s henchwomen.

For not only has Azula basically gotten rid of his trump card over her (lighting redirection), she has become the GOAT lighting manipulator and H2H fighter in ATLA. That, combined with her and her Fire Warrior’s smoke bending abilities, makes them the biggest threat to Zuko’s throne and world peace. 

Thus, Zuko should have spent every waking moment hunting down Azula instead of doing stupid shit like going on a diplomatic trip to the South Pole. 

For I admit the image of the leaders and the most important people in the four nations eating with each other is a powerful one, but it is still hollow as long as the biggest threat to the post-world order is still roaming free and plotting to bring it to an end.

Aang (The Search)

Right off the bat when Zuko told him about the whole blackmail situation he should have either said ok but call in Toph as well as anyone else who he thought was needed or told Zuko that finding his mother was not worth it since the was a chance, no matter how small, that Azula could escape and put Azula back in the asylum himself.

For yeah, I know the first point sounds OOC but Aang out of all people should know how dangerous Azula is (the lighting wounds on his left foot and back say hi) and thus take the proper precautions. 

And yes, I know the second point sounds really OOC but doesn’t Aang know that his duty isn’t to his friends but to the world? And thus even if it hurts, he has to prioritize the world’s safety over his friend’s well-being and thus not allow arguably the most dangerous (both politically and bending wise) non-Avatar person in the world any chance of escaping?

Especially when it appears the only thing Azula regrets is losing and not any of the actions she took during the war?

But alas, this blatant disregard towards his duty as an Avatar continues not only when he finds that “bastard” letter with Zuko, but also when he fails to give chase to Azula after helping Ursa restore her face and memories.

For even after Zuko refused to burn the letter because he wanted to find out the truth, Aang should have taken the letter and burned it, or at least not let the letter get back into Azula’s hands.

For if that letter ever became public, it would ruin everything that Aang fought for in the war, for either Iroh (an old man who has no inclination to produce heirs as far as canon is concerned) would have to take the throne to prevent Ozai and/or Azula for taking it or it would cause a massive civil war considering Zuko is already on thin ice with his subjects.

And once he had helped Ursa restore her face, he should have entered the Avatar State and used his seismic sense before entering his elemental shield to look for Azula. 

For even if Azula is mentally broken at that point, she is still a Top 4 fire-bender, at worst, in the world with a strong claim to the throne and thus should be his highest priority. Not staying by Zuko’s side, especially now that he has been reunited with his mother and can adequately protect Ursa and her family now.

Aang (Smoke and Shadow)

Assuming that we take Zuko’s comments at face value about how he tried, what does that say about Aang that Azula not only managed to escape his Avatar powered seismic sense, but also that even with his elemental shield providing unmatched mobility, he still couldn’t find Azula?

But moving onto something that requires no assumptions: what he did, or didn’t, do after finding out that Azula was behind the Kemurikage kidnappings due to working with the New Ozai Society.

Why didn’t Aang call in the rest of The Gaang and/or White Lotus to help apprehend Azula? For the worst case scenario has happened and Azula is actively working to restore the old regime (as far as Aang knows at this point), has become the strongest firebender and H2H fighter in the world, and has regained her sanity (as far as he knows).

Considering all the harm Azula has caused, and is currently causing, how come Aang didn’t take every measure to make sure that Azula would get back into their custody as well as make sure the kidnapped kids were in no danger whatsoever?

How come when he went into that room to help rescue the kids, how come he didn’t have his guard up or enter the room with his elemental shield up?

For Aang knows that The Fire Warriors have smoke-bending abilities, it was smoke (combined with volcanic gases) that had killed his predecessor, and that the Fire Warriors are seditious, mass child kidnappers in league with Azula. 

So why didn’t Aang take them seriously?

For if Aang wasn’t protected by the fact that he has to die as a 66 year old man (LoK), after the Fire Warriors had knocked him out, they would have killed him instead of monologuing just long enough for Mai and Kei Lo to save him by knocking out the Warriors.

And then what? A world without a fully realized Avatar that is liable to fall back into war long before his successor could be identified and become a fully realized Avatar. Especially if Azula had killed Zuko in after their tomb shuffle, leaving no one really able to fight back against The Fire Warriors as they consolidate power and restart the 100 year war as far as Aang knows.

But most galling in my opinion is how Aang doesn’t drop everything and lead an all out manhunt for Azula and The Fire Warriors, especially once he found out that their true goal is to break Zuko and make him into a tyrant. For Aang out of all people should know what Azula is capable of when she is “sane.”

So why does he fuck off?! 

What is he going to say when The Fire Warriors do something irredeemable and/or unfixable and so Zuko and him and have to explain to the world community why Azula got free in the first place, why they lied about her involvement with The Kemurikage kidnappings, and why she has managed to avoid capture despite no longer having a nation-state backing her (and her lack of resources in general considering she is a homeless, penniless fugitive), and the fact that she is no match for the Avatar State (or even a bloodlusted 4 element Aang)?

Mai

A lot of people hate on Mai, calling her a bad, high-maintenance girlfriend who doesn’t understand Zuko and an undeveloped character among other things.

But I think TV!show Mai was a loving girlfriend who was trying her best with a boyfriend dealing with trauma on top of his precarious position in court before ultimately betraying her and her country without any warning from her POV.

Moreover, for a tertiary character, I think her arc is short, sweet, and powerful: she was a girl who was heavily implied to be forced into an abusive friendship for the sake of her father’s political career in addition to having to suppress her true emotions.

But, thanks to her boyfriend having the courage to stand up against their abusers, she learns to stand up against her abuser, while also helping her real best friend find the courage to also stand up against their mutual abuser, and is on the path to healing and learning how to establish healthy relationships.

In other words, Mai learns that she doesn’t have to put her head down and ignore her emotions/capacity for love. And it is this realization that allows her to help create the promise for a better day for herself, her boyfriend, her best friend, and the rest of the world, including her own nation once they come to the same realizations as she has.

But instead of continuing on that path, the comics have her completely forget the realization she had and have her behave OOC, in my opinion, in several contexts.

For even if she, like Ty Lee, where completely done dirty by Zuko in that he let Azula free without asking them how they felt about it before losing her and having the gall to not assign protection to them and their families until he recovers Azula, it doesn’t excuse the fact she hid from Zuko/the proper authorities the existence of the New Ozai Society and that her father and “boyfriend” where members of it, with her father leading and funding it as well.

For it is quite obvious what are the out-of-universe explanations for why Mai didn’t go straight to the palace after The Rebound (so Azula, who no longer has a nation-state backing her, would have the means and funds to manipulate terrorist groups as well as house her kidnapped kids as part of a longer plot to make Zuko snap) and tell Zuko but there is no good-in universe answer that is inline with her previously established character.

For when did Mai suddenly care about her father to the point that she was willing to commit treason by supporting, or at least covering up, his seditious plot? 

For didn’t Mai, as part of betrayal at the Boiling Rock, essentially betray her father and the rest of her family in favor of Zuko?

Moreover, why would she prioritize her father and his potential political power considering what would happen if Ozai ever got back into power? For I know Avatar is a children’s franchise but I am pretty sure one of Ozai’s first acts once he got back on the throne after he had Zuko, Ursa, Iroh, Noren, and Kiyi killed, would be killing her and Ty Lee for their treason. 

Especially considering that if hadn’t turned when she did, half the Gaang would have died and Ozai would have very likely won the war. For without Aang learning lighting redirection, unless rock-kun (rock-kun is the younger cousin of Naruto’s swing-kun) intervenes much earlier, Aang dies to Ozai’s lighting spam and no one else on the remaining Team Avatar is a match for Comet!Ozai except in the very unlikely chance Katara manages to develop 24/7 blood-bending in the aftermath of her brother’s death.

But alas, Mai decides to act in an OOC manner and hides from Zuko the existence of The New Ozai Society/Safe Nation Society until her Zuko’s half-sister, along with her brother, have been kidnapped by The Fire Warriors after Zuko, Ursa, Noren, and Kiyi barely survived a New Ozai Society ambush.

And by barely, I mean if it wasn’t for the combination of Ukano’s monologue, Kei Lo’s last minute heel-face turn, and Zuko managing to bullshit the greatest non-Avatar fire redirection feat in the franchise, Zuko and his family would have been burned to death and/or brutally stabbed to death.

But even more galling, when confronted with her treason, Mai claims that Zuko out of all people should know how hard it is to betray your father as if there wasn’t a difference between betraying the all powerful ruler of your country who has a cult of personality, has burned you before, can quickly fire off lethal amounts of lighting on command, and has said before he wanted to kill you versus betraying your mentally and physically weak father who rejected being integrated into the new government and seeks to put someone back in power who would likely kill you for committing treason against him.

Especially that Zuko accepts her explanation and no one in-universe or the narrative never challenges Mai on why she committed treason again.

For I understand that Mai is a tertiary character, and thus can’t have the same narrative focus in regards to her redemption arc like Zuko. But if the narrative is going to treat Mai as a hundred percent redeemed good guy, she should be held to the same standards and be criticized when she acts in a villainous manner.

But yet again, the comics fail to challenge Zuko for almost restarting the Hundred Year War instead of calmly showing Aang and Kuei why he revoked his unconditional support for the Harmony Restoration Movement so why should we expect any “hero” to face any criticism?

Ukano

How come Ukano was willing to work with Azula to restore Ozai for the sake of his nation and family when not only is Fire Lord Zuko indebted to him for life due to Mai saving him at The Boiling Rock (not to mention Zuko offering him a job when his governorship disappeared after Bumi retook Omashu), but also when one of the first things Ozai would do after taking back power is killing Mai for her treason (imo, it is clear that after Zuko’s defection, the only punishment for treason was death, with no chance for life in prison like Iroh had)?

What is Ukano’s plan for dealing with a fully realized Avatar considering that Ozai with Sozin’s Comet got utterly stomped by Aang? I don’t think it is wise, or in line with someone leading a vast seditious conspiracy, to rely on Azula getting another cheap shot on Aang or The Fire Warriors able to get one over Aang using their smoke-bending.

Also, as a matter of storytelling, why should I root for his heel-face turn and acceptance of his prison sentence when one of the last things he does before being sent to prison is subtly imply that he was manipulated/coerced by Azula.

For in-universe, didn’t Ukano have several opportunities to tell Aang and Zuko about the kidnapped kids? And out of universe, even if Azula is extremely dangerous, it is kind of pathetic to hear a grown-ass man essentially be bullied by a bunch of mentally ill teenagers.

I mean how would you react if someone in a similar situation tried pulling Ukano’s excuse? 

Sympathy or mockery?

But in any case, how am I supposed to feel that even if Ukano has to go to jail, he at least did good by standing up to Azula and her followers if Ukano tries to deflect blame by blaming Azula?

I mean, would Zuko’s apology to The Gaang during The Western Air Temple felt as sincere if he blamed Azula’s manipulations and the promise of his father’s love for why he acted the way he did during The Crossroads of Destiny even if it were valid explanations for his behavior? 

Would the audience have so readily accepted Zuko into The Gaang if Zuko didn’t take sole responsibility for his actions?

Ozai & Ursa (The Letter)

Note: Ursa is a kidnapping victim who is highly implied to never had consensual sex with Ozai and thus her kids were highly likely to be conceived without her consent. The combined trauma combined with the fact that Ozai had all the power in the household in addition to his emotional and (heavily implied by artwork) physical abuse explains almost all of her bad parenting decisions and behavior towards Azula and Zuko…except for what I am going to describe below imo. So the point of this is just to make it clear that I don’t blame Ursa for what went wrong in Zuko’s or Azula’s life, for the responsibility solely lies on Azulon and Ozai’s shoulders, I am just criticizing one particular choice she made in-universe and the creators’ out of universe decision to make her act in that fashion.

Most people talk about the letter in relation to Zuko and how it affects him but I have a very hot take: the letter only really exists to allow Azula to be a credible antagonist during The Search considering her still mentally broken state and the fact that Zuko, Katara, and/or Aang where keeping eyes on her at all times. 

That and to also facilitate a means for Azula to get free of her restraints and eventually escape Zuko’s custody because without blackmailing Zuko, Azula would have never been free, unbound, and treated with dignity.

Also, the letter serves to unnecessarily woobify Zuko but that is not the focus of this post.

So with that in mind, let’s delve into what that letter implies Ursa’s and Ozai’s characters.

In regards to Ursa, I find it hard to believe that someone who basically begged for her son’s life and constantly shielded him to the best of her abilities would reckless endanger Zuko’s life by writing a letter that claimed Ikem, not Ozai, was Zuko’s father.

For Ursa, out of all people, should know that she, along with Zuko, only have value to the Royal Family if Zuko is Ozai’s kid. And that if Ozai was so inclined, he could have used the letter to kil Zuko and/or herself.

And even if it is a hundred percent Ozai’s fault that he used the letter as an excuse to essentially treat Zuko as a bastard (though personally I think Ozai just continued treated Zuko the way he previously did and just said that to further emotionally abuse Ursa), why would Ursa ever give Ozai the means to (further) torment her beloved son? Especially when she knows Ozai, and most likely Azulon considering how quick he was to order Zuko’s death to punish Ozai, has it out for Zuko?

In regards to Ozai, the letter, and what he did and didn’t do with it, makes him even more incomptenent than what previous canon suggested.

For even if he couldn’t have used the letter during Azulon’s reign to get rid of Zuko and/or Ursa (ex. Due to fear of retaliation from Azulon due to being a “cuck”), how come he didn’t use the letter to disinherit Zuko, instead of burning Zuko and having to cover it up?

Or, after Zuko went full traitor, how come Ozai didn’t use the letter to ensure that Zuko could never inherit the throne…at least through his claim as Ozai’s son (Iroh could have adopted Zuko and then abdicated in favor of Zuko)?

Iroh

I understand that Iroh is technically retired and doesn’t have to do anything. Moreover, I understand that the adults in child/teenage led action-adventure series can’t really be as proactive and/or responsible as IRL adults due to the constraints of the genre.

But Iroh is still involved in politics as seen by his willingness to serve as Zuko’s temporary Fire Lord when Zuko is gone. Moreover, Legacy of The Fire Nation does say that Iroh is still a White Lotus Grandmaster during the period the White Lotus becomes the Avatar world’s version of the UN Peacekeepers.

So with that in mind, we can criticize his lack of proactiveness in regards to Azula. For even taking away the assumption that Iroh offered the White Lotus’ help to find Azula after she ran into The Forgetful Forest, how come after Azula has been found to be masterminding the Kemurikage kidnappings, or after Azula revealed her plan to turn Zuko into a dictator, Iroh didn’t drop everything, call up the White Lotus, and lead a manhunt for The Fire Warriors?

For not only is Azula the biggest threat to world peace and balance in their world, she is the biggest threat to Zuko throne and safety. Especially after she has removed Iroh and Zuko’s one trump card over her (lighting redirection) and is arguably way stronger (at least as a combatant) than Ozai ever was.

For someone who lost his son and watched his beloved nephew be abused due to the effects of the Fire Nation’s imperialism and authoritarianism, why doesn’t Iroh make sure that the horrors of the past just stay in the past? Especially when he has the power, means, and connections this time around to make sure no one ever gets hurt again, not now and not in the future?

Ty Lee

In regards to The Search, Ty Lee was mistreated by Zuko when he first took Azula out without asking Mai or her about their feelings and then when he had the gall to lose her without granting her and Mai (and their families) 24/7 protection.

Though if Ty Lee is as much of a chi-blocking master as the narrative implies, when she warned Zuko that Azula’s chi-blocking was wearing off, she should have also warned him that there would be a period of time that Azula would be super flexible and have full control of her muscles and chi.

For even if Ty Lee had no idea that Azula had apparently learned instant lighting in the two years she had spent in the asylum, Azula is still capable of short bursts of fire that could have disoriented Zuko, leading to a similar outcome as to what actually happened in canon once Azula had the above period of time.

But moving on to something much more concrete, Ty Lee remembering the Fire Nation Palace’s secret tunnels and being able to pinpoint locate the one leading to Azula’s secret lair has some very negative implications about Ty Lee.

For even if she says it in a really roundabout way, The Sisters comics has Ty Lee say that she joined The Kyoshi Warriors at least in part to make up for the imperialism she helped perpetuate under Azula’s command.

Moreover, The Kyoshi Warriors agreed to be Zuko’s bodyguards in order to help protect the fragile peace that The Gaang helped establish at the end of the war. And in order to do so that means they have to be able to secure the Fire Nation Palace to the best of their abilities.

However, despite knowing about these secret tunnels, Ty Lee apparently never mentioned them in the year that the Kyoshi Warriors had been in The Fire Nation (The Promise takes place one year after Sozin’s Comet Part 4; The Kyoshi Warriors become Zuko’s bodyguards during The Promise; The Search takes place one year after The Search with the main plot of Smoke and Shadow taking place a couple of months after the climax of The Search).

And this lead to not only The Fire Warriors being able to walk into the palace and almost kidnap Kiyi unmolested (in fact, if it wasn’t for their smoke, The Fire Warriors would have kidnapped Kiyi without anyone being wiser), but for an entire conspiracy to operate right under their noses.

Not to mention what could have happened if The Fire Warriors where a little bit less mentally ill and used the fact that they had access to secret tunnels that no one knew about to do the obvious: carry out covert assassinations of all their enemies, which, depending on the time, could include important foreign figures like Aang, Katara, and Sokka.

Making things worse is that just like Mai really wasn’t challenged narratively or by anyone in-universe for her treason, Ty Lee is never challenged by the narrative or by her fellow warriors, Zuko, and/or Aang for knowing such a gaping security hole and not telling anyone earlier.

I mean the lack of knowledge of the secret tunnels could help, partially at least, explain why Zuko faced so many assination attempts, like Kori’s, that got frighteningly close to killing him. 

For instead of his original guard being disloyal and/or incomptenent, they could have had a lack of knowledge about the tunnels and thus didn’t know how to protectly seal them off and/or monitor them for threats.

Like I understand Azula being freed probably impacted her ability to think rationally (Ty Lee all but says she hasn’t had a peaceful night of sleep ever since Azula got out) but it doesn’t excuse the fact that she forgot to tell anyone about this security gap beforehand.

For doesn’t Ty Lee have a professional and moral duty to protect the Fire Nation palace and The Royal Family to the best of her abilities?

Kei Lo

I don’t hold him to the same standards as the heroes and outright adults in this analysis since  most of Rebound and Smoke and Shadow was about his heel-face turn and redemption arc.

But there is one thing that does bother me about post-redemption Kei Lo’s actions and this is when he attacked Azula in The Garden of Tranquil Souls without any apparent plan and got himself turned into a (brief) hostage.

For I understand that it was a moment to not only show how far Kei Lo had, but also to show Azula evilness by mocking Mai’s taste in men and implicitly threatening his life for daring to touch her/interrupt her “dialogue” bullying, assault, and psychological torture of with Mai.

But looking at Kei Lo’s actions from the bigger picture, they don’t really make sense and don’t paint a good picture of Kei Lo at all.

For Kei Lo had not only seen Mai defeat an entire NOS hideout with a toddler strapped to her back, Kei Lo was in fact the last person she fought before she left (spoiler alert: it was a total curb stomp battle).

Moreover, during the time that he had spent dating Mai and spent with Zuko and Aang, it is highly unlikely that the topic of Azula didn’t come up even if there was no comic panels showing us this (when you have limited space, you can’t waste panels on “superfluous” dialogue) and should have known that just like Mai was way out of league in terms of combat prowess, Azula is similarly beyond his abilities.

In addition, even if he didn’t believe what people mostly likely told him about Azula, he should have believed his own eyes as he wanted Azula basically toy with Mai despite Mai actually fighting with true lethal intent (I know some people might disagree with me but the art makes it clear that Mai was trying to kill Azula and not just pin her).

And finally, instead of rationally thinking and trying to get Zuko and/or Aang’s attention so someone way more equipped could help rescue Mai, he charges at Azula. But instead of using his knife or trying to get Azula into a chokehold, he just shoves her. 

Allowing Azula to not only shoot him with concussive lighting but then hold him at firepoint, forcing Mai, who had been able to stand up to Azula, albeit terribly I admit, to basically beg for Kei Lo’s life and leave herself vulnerable to Azula’s attacks as well.

For I know they are not analogous situations, but what Kei Lo did reminds me of dumbasses who try to intervene in active shooting situations, thinking they can be the hero, but end up making things worse due to being taken hostage, if they aren’t outright killed, making a peacefully resolution that much harder for the relevant authorities.

Likewise, Kei Lo, by getting himself taken hostage, could have, and should have as far as he knew, led to a nasty outcome. 

For as far as he knows, Azula is a sadistic, seditious, child-killing, child kidnapping, genocidal domestic terrorist who has no qualms about killing or cruelly treating “friends” or family. And so what is not to say that Azula wouldn’t have tortured him to get back at Mai and/or tortured Mai in front of him, forcing Mai to take her cruel punishment in order to prevent Azula from killing her boyfriend?

Kei Lo is very lucky that Zuko intervened when he did and is even more lucky that Azula was more interested in making her brother “strong” than really hurting anyone.

But instead of showing everyone berating him after the kids had been rescued, there was no narrative time spent at all. 

Which leads me to believe that that particular moment just happened, in part, just to showcase how vile Azula is despite in not being in line, imo, with the conscientious and aware person Kei Lo seemed to be growing into (as seen when he broke up with Mai since he realized despite being aloof for Smoke and Shadow that Mai could never get over Zuko).

Sokka & Katara

There isn’t much to say other than they were the only ones who interacted with post-canon Azula who treated her like the threat she.

That and it was obvious they were written out of Smoke and Shadow before Azula’s involvement with the kidnappings was revealed because if they were still in the Fire Nation when it happened, Azula and her girl gang would be back in jail instead of remaining menaces to society. 

Or at least at bare minimum they would have had to work much harder during the climax (ex. The Fire Warriors, including Azula, would have had to fight with lethal intent).

Toph

Other than the assumption that Toph helped Zuko search for Azula after the climax of The Search, all I have to say is that there is a good reason why Toph has not really shown up in any of the comics Azula has been. 

And that is because Toph would have never tolerated any of Azula’s bullshit or treated her with kid gloves instead of the genocidal war criminal who is still trying to negatively influence Fire Nation politics that she is as of current canon.

Other World Leaders

Note: Yes, there is no evidence that Azula was part of the war council meeting that ordered the attack on the Northern Water Tribe. But considering how comfortable Azula was in the “let’s burn down The Earth Kingdom” war council meeting plus the fact that Iroh thought it was appropriate for a 13 year old Zuko to partake in a war council meeting, I don’t think it is that much of a leap to assume that Azula was part of the war council meeting that ordered the Northern Water Tribe attack.

From Kuei’s perspective, Azula led a coup that ended with him in exile before suggesting and helping plan a genocide of his people. From Hakoda’s perspective, Azula almost killed both of his children several times. From Chief Arnook’s perspective, Azula was part of the war council that decided to not only invade his country, but to also kill the Moon Spirit and indirectly force his beloved daughter to sacrifice her life to restore said spirit.

So once Azula gets into Zuko’s custody, shouldn’t they have had established monitoring protocols to make sure that Zuko, who had less than six months ago willingly worked with her to conqueror Ba Sing Se and help Azula kill Aang, keeps one of the most dangerous war criminals in their world locked up while also establishing contingency plans to deal with scenarios in which Azula escapes?

Especially since Aang took mercy on her and didn’t remove her bending, meaning that Azula could grow stronger if she ever escapes (though I guess being in an asylum does allow for exponential growth anyway…) and eventually be able to get a cheap shot on Aang again before violently retaking the throne and restarting the 100 year war?

But instead of doing that, they naively trust that Zuko will keep Azula locked up without any check-ups (none of Zuko’s interactions with Kuei or Hadoka ever imply the topic of Azula’s status ever comes up). And while I understand the meta-reason for this (so it is more believable that Azula could remain an undetectable fugitive), it still has the potential to make them all look really, really bad.

For what happens, for example, The Fire Warriors create an international false flag terrorist attack that gets people from the other nations killed, in addition to Fire Nationals, that leads to a short skirmish that gets even more people killed before The Fire Warriors are found to be the true culprits and dealt with.

For even if they manage to capture The Fire Warriors, how are the world leaders going to explain to their subjects/citizens the lack of security measures they took in ensuring that Azula stayed in jailed or, if she ever escaped, the lack of plans to make sure she was apprehended as swiftly as possible?

Moreover, how are they going to explain the fact that they naively wholeheartedly trusted Zuko to make sure that Azula remained in prison or, if she escaped, that he would tell them and ask for their help if needed in apprehending her instead of trying to cover up the fact that it was his selfish desire to find mommy that gave the most dangerous person on the planet the means to escape? 

Especially after the Yu Dao fiasco showed that Zuko might not be the most trustworthy or reliable partner?

Do any of them take their responsibilities seriously!? No and that is why the Red Lotus had a point for why should a bunch of clowns be in charge of nation-states if they can’t even use state power to properly protect people.

Bending & Combat

One of the more endearing things about Avatar is the fact that its combat & magic system is based on IRL martial arts. And this is reflected in the fact that all of the named prodigies except for Katara & Sokka (who likely the greatest prodigies in the franchise in terms of speed of skill acquisition and mastery) have undergone years of rigorous training to be the master benders and fighters that they are shown to be in the show.

Moreover, the show explains that bending & fighting are not just martial arts, but are also a spiritual practice as well and that the more spiritually in tune you are the stronger your combat prowess will be. And that the less spiritual and/or the more out of balance you are, the weaker your combat prowess will be. 

For not only does your mental state affect things like your breathing or tactics, but also your willingness to incorporate other styles of bending/fighting into yours as well.

And the show makes it very clear that the strongest and best benders/fighters incorporate all the other styles of bending.

Finally, the show, whenever it introduced new bending/fighting techniques and/or power ups, made sure they didn’t contradict what was previously established (ex. Metal bending is possible only because most metal still has pieces of unrefined earth in them; chi-blocking is possible because everything has chi in it) or gave them logical weaknesses to make sure they weren’t completely game breaking (ex. Lighting redirection does negate lighting bending, but you need to be in the proper stance and make sure the lighting never touches your heart or else you will still die; chi-blocking only works if you can touch someone).

But the comics, in an effort to keep Azula a credible threat, seem to disregard all of the previously established rules and themes about bending and in doing so leaves the Avatar franchise in a worse off state.

For why was Azula, after two years in an asylum where it can be presumed she wasn’t able to train like she used to, didn’t have anywhere near the same resources, and went further into psychosis was able to retain her physicality and remain the hype-athletic fighter she was during the war?

Moreover, how did Azula get so strong and fast during her time in the asylum (and later in the wilderness and as a fugitive) to the point that she is arguably the best H2H fighter in Avatar?

For not only did Azula manage to hold off a serious and in armor post-canon Suki and Ty Lee despite wearing a billowing cape and a mask that blocked vision in her left eye, she also managed to consistently and causally dodge Mai’s knives despite the latter actually trying to kill her.

Not to mention how she managed to over-power Zuko, who was arguably the second best swords fighter in the franchise before having two years to add to his sword fighting prowess, in their short fire-sword fight in the tomb to the point that Zuko thought he could only prevent his death by convincing Azula that no one would ever accept her on the throne.

Zuko! You know the person who literally has to be knocked out and/or dying before giving up in a fight did not believe he could get out of Azula’s hold before she presumably stabbed him to death.

How come Azula’s fire managed to not only get stronger (ex. During the war, if she released her fire from her control it became orange, but after the asylum, it stays blue) but also why was Azula able to develop several new lighting techniques, several of which where completely unseen in the franchise, or hadn’t been seen for centuries as far as the reader was concerned (ex. Concussive lighting; instant lighting; quick charge lighting; lighting sphere; a bootleg chidori; instant area of effect lighting; lighting zaps; the ability to split and control her stream of lighting after she has fired it; lighting redirection).

And speaking of new lighting techniques, how did Azula manage to learn the lighting redirection technique on her own? For none of Iroh, Zuko, and Aang ever showed her the technique and Azula only saw the technique like four times (Iroh on the ship during The Avatar State; Zuko during Sozin’s Comet; Zuko twice during The Search). 

And as far as I remember, the TV show never implied or showed that Azula was a Goku-level prodigy in that she only had to look at technique only a handful of times to completely master it and/or develop a counter to it.

Not to mention the fact that Azula is still a hyper-nationalist who still has no respect for the other nations, let alone their bending arts.

Like have you seen all the times she calls Sokka and Katara snow peasants despite the two of them technically being her equal politically, Katara defeating Azula during Sozin’s Comet and almost defeating her during The Crossroads of Destiny? Does comics!Azula seem like the person to willingly incorporate waterbending principles into her bending, which is necessary to redirect lighting?

Also, what the hell is smoke-bending?! For I know in the Kyoshi novels, Kyoshi bends smoke as part of her first attempt at firebending and that Aang generated smoke during The Firebending Master (so smoke-bending is a subset of firebending as the seeming precursor to firebending itself).

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DqLW99cn1A8

But how did The Fire Warriors manage to learn how to psychically generate and manipulate smoke?

Moreover, how did The Fire Warriors manage to learn how to use smoke-bending while using their firebending at the same time? 

For as far as I know, other than Azula in the Smoke and Shadow Omnibus Cover, there is no other instance as far as I know of a non-Avatar bending an element and a sub-element at the same time. So how were they able to do so?

And how come Aang and Zuko (two master firebenders, one of which is also a master airbender) were not able to do anything about The Fire Warrior’s smoke? 

For shouldn’t they have been able to use their bending to clear to smoke instead of either choking on it (Aang) or allowing Azula to escape despite being a tomb with only one exit (Zuko)?

But I think the most frustrating thing is how strong the Fire Warriors are. For yes, I understand that the Gaang aren’t the only prodiges in the world and that for a children’s action-adventure series, it is hard to write conflicts if heroes face no physical challenges whatsoever.

But there is no justification both in-universe or out of it for why the Fire Warriors are so strong both in terms of bending but also in terms of athleticism as well. Especially considering the fact they were heavily implied to have been kept in the same conditions that Azula was (and thus shouldn’t have been able to train to an elite master level) and the fact that they too were wearing long billowing capes with their left eyes blocked by their wood masks.

In fact, this ties into my next point…

Fire Warriors & The Asylum System

How was Azula able to break out six girls from her old asylum without Zuko finding out? For even assuming that Azula killed everyone there, eventually someone had to have come and found out that at least six girls where missing? Especially when, assuming Zuko really did try to find Azula, one of the things he would have done is put a guard there since it was likely that Azula would try to return there.

But instead of getting an answer on how Azula was able to break them out without anyone finding out (other than the meta-textual answer of Azula needed a new girl gang and the only people who she could have plausibly convinced considering her living conditions of the past 2 years were her fellow asylum inmates), all we are left with is speculation, some of which implies some very nasty things about Zuko’s reign and The Fire Nation. 

Like the idea that the asylum system remained in control of Ozai loyalists and are currently weaponizing the inmates to create a shadow army to overthrow Zuko using the group of people Zuko and his regime would be least likely to suspect.

And speaking of speculation, what are The Fire Warriors’ motivations and/or goals in regards to joining Azula’s ongoing seditious domestic terrorism plot? For I understand that Azula needs new hench-women in order to carry out her plots since it would break the suspension of disbelief to have Azula carry them out by herself, but neither non-ableist explanation I could think of makes any sense.  

For either they are scared of her and/or being manipulated, but that doesn’t make sense since Azula no longer has any political power and thus they can ignore her once she breaks them out. Not to mention Azula doesn’t seem to have regained all of her mental faculties (ex. her Mochi rant during Smoke and Shadow and how her eyes bulge out like crazy!Azula in The Search at the end of the rant). 

Or because she became non-ironic friends with them, which doesn’t make sense since Azula during her time in the asylum was clearly not in the mental state to take care of herself, let alone make friends not relying on her status or fear-mongering. Especially when The Search has Azula blame “Ursa” for making Zuko, Mai, and Ty Lee stop fearing her, heavily implying Azula still thinks fear is a good way to maintain relationships.

Which leaves us with the ableist answer (sorry for the language, it is to get my point across): they are crazy bitches and crazy bitches don’t need any reason to do harm!

And do you know how harmful that is to IRL mentally ill people? For mentally ill people have had to fight really, really hard to fight the association that being mentally ill makes you evil or prone to evil. And it is only recently they have been able to fight back against such associations thanks in part due to positive representations in various artistic works.

So it makes me really disappointed that Avatar, a franchise that handles several difficult topics (ex. Child abuse, rescue parents, imperialism/colonialism, child soldiers, physical disabilities, war orphans, sexism/misogyny, hyper-nationalism, genocide, abusive sibling relationships, abusive friendships, etc.) with such grace that even children can clearly understand and learn from them, engaged in such harmful stereotyping. Especially when one of the most highly regarded arcs in LoK is Korra overcoming her PTSD from being poisoned with mercury over the course of several years and with the help of several people.

For at least Azula, with all the cries of ableism about her treatment in the comics and other post-canon works like Legacy of The Fire Nation, has reasons for being evil other than her mental illness. 

Like the fact that she was indoctrinated and groomed from birth to be an active member of the ruling family of an authoritarian, genocidal, imperialism empire.

But what are the Fire Warrior’s reasons for helping Azula outside of being mentally ill?

Themes (The Search)

To be quite honest, I really don’t think The Search has a theme since it mostly exists to answer the question of what happened to Ursa. So I don’t think there is much to analyze or criticize in terms of themes.

Themes (Smoke and Shadow)

However, Smoke and Shadow does have a central theme: fear, or more importantly, getting over the fear of: Ozai (for Ursa), Azula, and/or being a tyrant (in Zuko’s case).

And in regards to Ozai, I think Smoke and Shadow actually did a good job of showing Ursa getting over her fear of Ozai. In fact, I think their confrontation in Ozai’s jail cell, with Ozai being reduced to a mad dog after seeing he has no hold on Ursa anymore is one of the few good things that come out of the comics.

But in regards to the other two themes, which are heavily tied to each in my opinion, are butchered by the need to keep Azula a credible villain.

For I think fear does serve a valid purpose: to make sure we avoid situations and/or people that are likely to put ourselves or the people we love in danger. 

And boy do a lot of people have a lot to fear about post-Smoke and Shadow.

Mai and Ty Lee have every reason to continue to fear Azula after Azula basically humiliated them in combat and made it very clear that they are only still alive because Azula wants them to be. Not to mention in Mai’s case, Azula basically bullied Ukano into action, causing her father to eventually have to go to jail for a long time, and kidnapped her brother before put him in a holding cell for a good period of time.

Aang has ever reason to continue to fear Azula considering she has several lighting attacks that can bypass lighting redirection, the fact that Azula herself knows lighting redirection, the fact that Azula has smoke bending powers similar to The Fire Warriors that caused him to be knocked out cold, and that Azula has successful shown that she can cause Zuko to fall down the path of his ancestors, meaning that Azula could eventually succeed and indirectly wipe out everything Aang and his friends fought for during the war.

Zuko has ever reason to fear Azula considering: she basically broke into the palace and operated a conspiracy from right under his nose; she kidnapped a bunch of kids, including their half-sister, and he could do nothing until Ty Lee remembered the secret passageway; that she has taken away his trump card over her and has essentially become the strongest firebender in history; that he is only alive because Azula has plans for him; and that she is still loose and plotting the next step in her dastardly plot to remake Zuko in her image.

Moreover, Zuko has every reason to fear turning into a tyrant since he not only has failed to capture The Fire Warriors post-Smoke and Shadow, all that he has done to show that he won’t fall prey to the Fire Warriors manipulations and assaults once.

He doesn’t order a sweep of his government to make sure that there aren’t any more mavericks like Constable Sung in his ranks. 

He doesn’t try to craft policies to ensure the various Ozai loyalists groups can’t take advantage of alienated people like Kei Lo to fill their ranks with people willing to die since they have nothing in life. 

He doesn’t institute any safeguards or protocols to make sure that if he has to ever institute authoritarian measures ever again, he does so because it was the best and logical decision possible and not out of fear. 

He hasn’t undergone training (ex. Combine his firebending with his sword skills as is implied in the “Old Friends” artwork) to close the gap that has once again opened between him and Azula so that if he ever encounters Azula again, his life won’t be in her hands once more.

Hell! People like Iroh, Noren and Ursa have a lot to fear considering that Azula has easily breached the palace (and probably has other means of getting in undetected even if the tunnels are now known since she was responsible for evacuating Caldera City during the DoBS), one of the secure places in the world, and has demonstrated continued willingness to not only hurt Zuko but also now hurt Kiyi.

Moreover, assuming they ever find out where the other Fire Warriors came from, they will (and should considering their eras’ lack of knowledge on mental health) fear the inmates in the asylum system. 

For if six of them were willing to join Azula and were really strong benders who could even knock out a fully realized Aang, what will happen, hypothetically, when Azula builds herself an army out of the asylum inmates she and her warriors break out of the various asylums in the country?

So I guess what I am trying to say is that, by keeping Azula a villain, Smoke and Shadow undermined its own theme of “we have to learn to live with fear and never let it rule us.”

For only fools would not live in fear of Azula and The Fire Warriors until they are apprehended and I don’t think any of the characters mentioned in this section are big enough fools to underestimate what Azula and The Fire Warriors can do and what they are willing to do to achieve their goals.

Conclusion

Azula was one of the best villains in Western Animation and part of that is because the characters and the narrative treated her like the threat she was and that, even if her schemes did rely on good fortunes (ex. Sokka vouching for The Kyoshi Warriors before leaving with Aang to his father) they were created by various characters acting like they did normally and not in OOC fashion (ex. Kuei is an airheaded fool and so it is not out of character for Kuei to forget that he told Azula about the DoBS invasion plan and/or tell anyone associated with the plan that he spilled the beans before going on exile) just so Azula could win. 

Moreover, Azula doesn’t display new powers/abilities when the plot demands it just to remain a threat; all she does is exploit her previously established abilities and intelligence/cunning (ex. The Avatar is slowly floating up in the air in his Avatar State that is previously established to turn him into a berserking force of nature. Ok. I’ll just take advantage of the fact that he is exposed to shoot him dead with lighting before he can harm my allies, my friends, my brother, and/or I).

However, in the comics, Azula, despite remaining just as big as a threat, if not bigger, is not treated as such by either the narrative or the characters she interacts with. Moreover, Azula and her henchwomen frequently come up with new powers just so they remain a credible threat. And it not only ruins Azula as a villain, but also the characters that she has the misfortune of interacting with directly or indirectly.

For it really hurt to see a fully realized Aang essentially get knocked out by some faceless goons.

It really hurt to see Mai break up with Zuko because he visited Ozai without telling her and then hide from Zuko the existence of the New Ozai Society and the fact that her father was leading it. Not to mention, when confronted for treason, seeing her avoid owning her mistake before everyone unceremoniously dropped the subject.

It really hurt to see post-canon Suki and Ty Lee, two of the best H2H fighters who have learned each other’s techniques, essentially get fodderized by a half-blind Azula. Or to see Azula learn lighting redirection with no prior indication of how she managed to learn the technique. Or to see her invent concussive lighting because the comics want her to spam her iconic lighting at everyone like the villain she is but don’t want to deal with the consequences previously established in the TV show or in LoK.

It made me angry to see Zuko keep giving Azula second chance after second chance when Azula deserves no chances as long as she is on her current path. Especially when she keeps on hurting the people Zuko supposedly loves and the subjects he supposedly cares about.

Anyway, before my rant gets too long, the point is that not that Azula can’t remain a good villain. For even I, as someone who believes an Azula redemption would be compelling, believe there are ways to keep Azula a credible antagonist in line with what was shown in the TV show.

But if this is the way Azula is going to be continued to be written as a villain, as a living plot device, I don’t want her to remain a villain. 

Especially when the bad writing surrounding villain!Azula starts to ruin other character’s previously established characterization as well as previously established world building and lore.

–Submitted by justanotherthrowaway1950

[champagne-bucky]

Rebel,Rebel

Summary: Peter doesn’t like a disobedient girl.

Warnings: Dark! Peter Parker (18+) x female reader, non-con/dub-con, knife play, face fucking, begging, humiliation kink, squirting, smut, fondling, hand job, anal play

Notes: Hehe, sooo this challenge is very very late and I’m very very sorry. I’d like to apologize to @mariessecretfantasies​ for being soooo late. Anyways I hope you enjoy this one!! 

“WHAT YOU DID WAS INCREDIBLY STUPID. I CANNOT PUT INTO WORDS HOW CARELESS AND CHILDISH YOUR ACTIONS WERE! I SHOULD HAVE YOU SUSPENDED, NO-“

You tried your hardest to stop the growing smirk on your face as Fury yelled at you. You may or may not have almost killed yourself and others while executing a life or death mission. The key work here was almost.

Being a new recruit was no walk in the park. Other agents were constantly belittling your actions and questioning your position with S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers, you showed them though. With every mission and every time you trained, you made sure to go above and beyond and prove every single one of those people wrong. As a result, a lot of agents became jealous and would do anything they could to ruin your credibility. Which brings you to Fury still yelling in your face.

It’s not like you were completely reckless, you made sure to carefully calculate everything you did so that you wouldn’t risk putting anyone in actual danger. Yes, that mission was technically very poorly executed, but it’s not your fault. Truthfully, the original plan would have cost people their lives if it wasn’t thanks to your quick thinking that saved everyone.

The only reason you were being yelled at instead of praised was because your incompetent teammates didn’t want to question the mission captain and think of a new plan. You were a hero, but those stubborn asses would never admit it.

“You really have me backed into a corner here, Agent,” Fury sighed as he rubbed his face.

“My desk is filled with complaints about your negligence to the team. Even your mission captain wants you suspended indefinitely,” you huffed.

“The only reason everyone complains about me is because they can’t be me. Everything they do, I do it ten times better than they could ever dream of. Even the lousy mission captain couldn’t think of a more brilliant plan than mine. You all should be thanking me really,” Fury raised his brows.

“Thanking you?”

“Yes, you should be thanking me because I’m the only competent one here willing to risk it all to save innocent people. Sorry you only hired people that were too afraid to get their hands dirty, what a sad sad team we have here,” Fury looked as if he wanted to chew your head off more, but for the sake of his already high blood pressure and an impending migraine, he decided against it.

“You know what I’m willing to do for you, Agent,” it didn’t take Fury long to come up with a plan.

“What, Nicholas,” you loved poking at his nerves. The vain in his forehead looked as if it were about to burst.

“I’m going to assign you to our Avengers program,” you gasped internally. The Avenger program? Does that mean-

“Don’t get it twisted. This program does not mean you’ll become an Avenger. This is a shadow program. You’ll be able to go on mission with your Avenger, go to their meetings, press conferences, you get the point,” you scoffed.

“And you’re doing all this for what?” Fury rolled his eyes.

“You may be able to get away with a lot of shit as an agent, but the Avengers are on a whole other level. One slip up and you're done. This program is gonna teach you just how we do things here at S.H.I.E.L.D.,” Fury leaned over the desk to be eye level with you.

You thought about giving him more attitude, but you didn’t want to push your luck. Even though Fury wasn’t saying it, he was pretty much saying that this program could mean a spot on the Avengers, right? Finally, you were all that hard work was giving you the recognition you deserve.

“Alright, Fury, I’ll join your little program. So, who do I get. Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Thor, Agent Romanoff, someone who matches my intelligence and skill set?” You leaned back in your chair with a smug smirk. Fury matched yours.

“I believe a shadow program is well below their pay grade. I was thinking of assigning you to someone who was a little like yourself. I think Peter Parker would be the perfect match for you,” your eyes went wide in disbelief.

“Peter Parker? Him? Oh, Nick, you gotta be kidding me? He doesn’t even go on real missions! He just helps old ladies cross the street, scares punk teens from shoplifting, he’s not even a real Avenger!”

“Mr. Parker is way more qualified than being a neighborhood watchmen, Agent. He’s on the team because he is one of the best. You can learn a thing or two from him. He, very much like yourself, was a big rule breaker too, still is if you ask me. The only reason we haven’t kicked him off yet is because Tony Stark has a soft spot for the kid.”

You tried to argue your way out of being with Peter, but Fury insisted or you would be met with suspension. You grumbled and trudged your way out of his office. Fury mentioned before you left that Peter would be in contact with you shortly. You slammed the door before he got his last words out.

“And don’t forget, follow the rules or be faced with the consequences,” you mocked his words under your breath as you stormed back to the agent’s wing of the compound.

__

Peter couldn’t believe the phone call he had just gotten from Fury. More importantly he couldn’t believe who was going to be shadowing him. After all this time being in the Avengers program, no one ever wanted to pick him, but you, his crush, well his heart was just bursting at its seams.

“What’s gotten you all smiley, Spidey,” Sam took a seat next to him on the couch.

“N-Nothing, I just got off the phone with Director Fury, he says someone requested me for the shadow program,” Sam laughed.

“And that’s what’s making you get all blushing and giddy? Gee, you not getting enough attention at home?” Peter rolled his eyes at Sam.

“No, it’s, it’s just this girl that I’ve liked for some time. Apparently she wanted me to be her guide.”

“Who is she?” Once Peter said your name, Sam’s eyes lit up in fear.

“Aww no man, you don’t want to be messing around with her,” Peter’s face fell.

“Why not?”

“Well, rumor has it she’s kind of a rebel.”

“Kind of?”

“From what I hear from other agents, she’s always breaking protocol, almost always putting people in danger, risking lives, not a good look if you ask me. Come to think of it, why didn’t Fury deny her application?”

“Maybe he thinks I can be a good influence on her,” Peter smiled and nudged Sam’s arm.

“Pfft, when pigs fly,” Sam got up and walked away leaving Peter to write out an informative email to you.

“Just be careful with her is all I’m saying, kid.”

Peter ignored him as he pulled up his email and began to write to you.

__

Your alarm was blaring way too early in the morning for your liking. Peter insisted on starting everyday at 6 a.m. because “crime always starts early”, or something stupid like that. You two had only been with each other for a week and it was pure torture for you.

Peter on the other hand indulged in the time he got to spend with you. So far, Sam was being proven wrong about your rebel status. He always made sure you were to follow the book no matter how defiant the look in your eyes was becoming. Maybe you only followed the rules because of him, he’d like to think.

“Peterrrrrrr,” you whined.

“Whattttt,” he mimicked with a laugh.

“This shit is taking too long. Can’t we just-“

“Nope,” Peter interrupted.

“But-“

“Nada.”

“Peter-“

“I believe the correct word we are looking for is no,” you wanted to slap the stupid smirk off his face.

“Peter there is an easier way to do this,” you tried to reason with him, but he just wouldn’t listen.

“You mean there’s the wrong way to do this. I was given my instructions and now we will follow them, AS PLANNED OUT. If you don’t like how the Avengers run things, then maybe you should rethink your status in the program,” Peter stated as he kept his eyes locked on the bank.

This is what it’s been like for the entire week. You were starting to get agitated beyond belief by Peter’s smugness. What a cruel joke Fury decided to play on you. First, he makes Peter your partner, the most useless of all the Avengers when it came to missions and crime fighting. Next, his unwillingness to go off book for one measly second. If Peter could’ve known how much time he’d be saving by just bending the rules a little, he might be able to take on more serious tasks, unlike this stupid bank robbery tipoff he received earlier today.

Nevermind the other laundry list of reasons why you can’t stand Peter Parker and his dopey grin. Right now, you are thinking of good reasons why it would be impossible to get away with the murder of the most annoying person to ever walk the planet, in your opinion. While you were doing your own plotting, Peter was trying to keep his focus on the potential robbery and not the woman of his dreams next to him

__

The robbers made their move around 4 a.m. After countless hours of hearing Peter ramble on about Star Wars, chemistry, and his web fluid stuff you were thankful to end the night with some action. Peter made sure to take the lead while you were waiting at the back of the bank for a back up call. A stupid strategy, but supposedly Peter knew what was best and refused to go against orders.

Peter surprised the robbers by swinging himself down from the ceiling. There were four men trying to attack him and Peter fought every single one off without taking a breath. However, as things were going seemingly well they took a turn for the worst when one robber pulled out his gun and started to shoot. Peter faltered his steps and quickly dodged a bullet headed straight for his knee. During all this time you were watching from a small window, he still refused to call you for back up.

“Parker, you need my help, tap me in,” you said through your earpiece.

“No, no, uhh, I got it, thanks,” Peter responded quickly while dodging another bullet, this time to his shoulder.

“Parker, you're failing out there,” there was no response from Peter as he kept trying to tame the situation.

You huffed and decided to get to work. You really didn’t want to screw up your chances with this program, but you were left no choice. The line between Peter’s incompetence and stubbornness finally frayed and you just about had to butt in.

“I’m saving his life, I’m not breaking the rules… right?”

__

Peter was now tackled to the ground by two of the robbers. The one with the gun was reloading his bullets and the other was taking the money out of the machine. Somewhere along the line, they seemed to have damaged a part of his suit and he was bleeding out. That weakness alone was enough for the robbers to use all their strength and hold him down,

“It’s the end of the line for you, Spider-Man,” Peter started to freak out. Was it too late to call you?

“Hey boss, why don’t we see who’s under the mask,” one of the men holding him down said.

The “boss” agreed and began to walk his way towards Peter. He started to hyperventilate at the thought of not only his life ending, but his identity would be exposed.

The robber started to put his hands on the material of his mask, but not before he halted his actions and fell to the ground. Peter was stunned as were the rest of the men, but not for long.

“Hey, who’s that,” one man said as you came down from the ceiling where Peter had entered.

You have your few weapons at the ready and no time to waste. It had already been a long day and you were angry and exhausted. It took no time for you to wipe out the robbers and alert authorities of what went down. The men were hurt badly, but they should be okay, maybe.

Sirens were becoming louder as you quickly grabbed Peter and hauled him out of the back door and into the car. You whipped off his mask and started to check him for any injuries. When you went to touch a bruise on his face, he swatted your hand away.

“What did I tell you?” He said angrily.

“Peter I-“

“I said I would call you for backup and you defied me,” he pressed a button on his suit and it disappeared to his normal clothes.

“Peter you were choking out there! If I would’ve waited for your call you probably would’ve been dead by then! I saved your life, the least you could say is thank you,” you rolled your eyes and slumped back into your seat.

“Thank you? Y/N you blatantly went against my orders and did your own thing. Do you not have any respect for me?”

Your jaw dropped as Peter spoke those words. You cannot believe how irrational this boy was behaving. He was in trouble and you offered to help him.

“You know what Peter? No, no I don’t respect you. You were close to dying and I came in and saved your helpless ass. I have never met somebody so dimmwhitted, so stubborn, so incompetent, so STUPID, and so so SO annoying as you, Peter Parker. Come to think of it? How are you even an Avenger? Aren’t they supposed to have more than the one brain cell you seem to possess? Do they just let anybody be an Avenger or do we all have to suck up to Tony Stark just to get a spot on the team?”

“Get out,” Peter said through gritted teeth.

“What? Can’t handle the criticism?” You laughed as Peter slammed his hand on the center console, creating a dent.

“I SAID GET THE FUCK OUT,” you were surprised at Peter’s tone of voice.

“Get out, get out of this car before you make me do something I’ll regret,” your eyes went wide as you got out of the car and started to run home.

__

Peter cried that night after he kicked you out of the car. Nobody, not even Mr. Stark talked to him the way you had. The girl he fantasized about each night had called him stupid, annoying, and possibly more hateful words in the English language synonymous to the ones she had said in the car.

Peter needed to take the weekend to himself to process everything. His heart was crushed and his emotions were conflicted. Even after all those terrible words, he still had some feelings for you. How could someone so perfect for him be so cruel to him at the same time?

He avoided everyone at the compound for the weekend. Usually he’d spend the few days there to work on some new tech with Mr. Stark or train with Bucky and Sam, but you lived there too and he couldn’t face you at the moment.

Peter was also screening calls from Fury. At the end of every mission with you, Fury would demand a status report. Peter would always have positive things to say about you, but this time he wouldn’t even know what to tell Fury.

After a movie with MJ and Ned to clear his head, Peter walked back home to the small apartment he shared with his Aunt May. He felt a little better after seeing some friends, but his heart still had a pang in it from your words. Was he really as annoying as you said he was?

Peter didn’t dwell on his thoughts for long before he felt himself getting pulled off the sidewalk and into a sleek black car. He tried to fight off whoever pulled him in, but he stopped struggling once he heard the ring of his cell phone.

“So, it does work,” Fury ended the call and scowled at Peter. “Any reason you haven’t been answering me?”

Peter took a deep gulp as he figured out what he was supposed to say. “Director Fury, I-”

“She finally cracked you,” he simply stated as Peter nodded in agreement.

“I didn’t know what to say because I’m afraid of how you’d react.”

“And what did she say?” Fury questioned.

When Peter told him the whole story from the robbery to her hateful words in the car, Fury just about had blown a fuse.

“SHE WHAT?” Fury expected the absolute worst from you, he’ll admit that, but blatantly insulting her superior crossed a huge line for him.

“Director Fury, I have it all-”

“No, Parker, I’m in the driver’s seat now. No more Mr. Nice Guy,” Fury called for the driver of his car to take off.

“Fury, please, just let me handle this,” it took a lot of convincing, but Fury came to an agreement with Peter.

“If you don’t get rid of her attitude and I find out that she continues to talk to you the way that she did, I’m terminating her position with S.H.I.E.L.D.,” Fury had no time for further discussion as he basically pushed Peter out of the car and sped out of Queens.

Oh, Peter was going to do all he could to make her obey him. It didn’t matter how he was going to train her, but when the time is right he’ll make his dreams come true. Peter was going to make his fantasies come true.

__

After about a week of no Peter Parker, the Avenger was back and surprisingly better than ever. He made no mention of the car incident and you didn’t want to bring it up either. In fact, Peter seemed to be his happy, normal self while the two of you trained together for an upcoming mission. He was cracking the same jokes and still rambling your ears off about the usual stuff. It shocked you to say the least, he held no ill will for you because of that night. Maybe he finally wised up and was starting to see things your way.

It seems as if lately Peter has become more lax with you. He didn’t get mad when you were just a little late for training sessions or when you would begin your back talk with him. It was as if Peter changed overnight into a completely chill person. Not that you minded at all, you would definitely be taking advantage of his easy going personality.

However, you did notice something in his eyes that you never seen before. You couldn’t pinpoint it, but it was almost like whenever you too got a little rough during training, he would enjoy it and try to push the limit. Maybe it was all a test to see how far your strength could go? Whatever it was, it kept you curious. Peter was acting different, but not too far off from his normal self.

“We have a mission tonight at the docks. Be ready at 10 and we can take turns being watch,” was all Peter said to you before he left the gym to go off with Mr. Stark.

You weren’t used to going on a mission so late. Peter always wanted to arrive at missions early just in case he was being fooled by a criminal. Of course, he always ended up being wrong and everything would happen later at night than in broad daylight (you tried telling him that and he simply waved you off).

__

You quickly rushed back to your room, slamming the door and triple checking that the locks were in place. The events from tonight’s mission left you speechless, shocked, horrified. Never in your life had you gotten out of a car and booked it to your room so fast. Peter Parker, Spider-Man, New York’s favorite defender, had done an unspeakable act.

It started out like always, just sitting in the car hiding out. Peter wasn’t talking as much so you decided you wouldn’t make conversation either. It was only until the criminals came to the docks where it all went downhill.

Peter told you the same thing he always had, he’ll call you if backup is needed. Of course, Peter found himself in hot water yet again and you decided to intervene. Only this time, you were met with more than just yelling and a kick out of the car.

“You didn’t listen,” the tone in Peter’s voice changed.

“Peter, c’mon now you were in trouble,” you began to speak, but he quickly cut you off.

“You didn’t listen, and now you’re gonna have to be punished,” Peter had a dangerous look in his eyes that scared you.

“Peter, if you’re gonna throw me out again I’ll save you the trouble and just leave. You know I don’t get why you have to be so stubborn all the damn time, if you just-,” as you were going to open the door, you heard the lock click.

“You didn’t listen, you need to be punished,” Peter began to lean closer to you as you pulled harder on the door.

“Peter, PETER,” you screamed as he put his hand on the front zipper of your top.

“Take this off,” you stayed still, “NOW!”

You rushed to take your top off and avoided the tears forming in your eyes. You fumbled with the zipper towards the bottom and Peter groaned impatiently. He grabbed the top and tore it off of you only leaving you in a bra.

You tried to look away from him and cover yourself in the process, but Peter wasn’t having any of that. He grabbed you by the chin with one hand as the other made its way to your chest. You tried to fight his intentions, but he wouldn’t have it.

“Stop moving. I’ll make this worse for you,” he grabbed your chin harder and you stopped trying to move.

He dipped his fingers into one of the cups and began to fondle your chest. Once Peter found your nipple, he circled it with the tip of his thumb. Peter was moaning as soon as it hardened. He never took his eyes off of you.

“Take off the bra,” Peter gave you a look that dared you to defy him. You quickly got rid of the bra and he took it and threw it in the back seat.

Peter was in awe, you were as beautiful as he imagined. Your bare chest and the tears in your eyes made him hard as a rock. He took his hand off your chin and began to palm himself through his suit.

Peter made his suit retract back into his regular clothing. He took your hands and placed them over the palm of his jeans. He pressed your hands down as you bit back a terrified whimper.

“Why don’t you help me out, yeah?” It wasn’t a suggestion judging by the look in his eyes.

You pulled down his zipper and didn’t go any further than that. Peter chuckled at you and brought your hand into the inside of his boxers. You couldn’t form any type of sounds as he made you hand travel through his patch of hair and up his cock. Peter was impressive, but there was no room for a pleasantly shocked emotion.

“Now take him out and finish what you started,” Peter pulled down his boxers and fully exposed himself to you.

You started off slow with a shaky rhythm. Who could ever be confident and cool in a situation like yours? Peter didn’t seem to like what you were doing and put his hand on top of yours. He guided you up and down his cock and took it off once he gave you a pace.

“Don’t be shy, go faster,” you picked up the pace as you saw Peter swipe some precum off his tip and shoved his finger into your mouth.

He didn’t even have to say anything to get you to start licking his fingers. You closed your eyes and Peter didn’t seem to stop you. The faster this was over with the faster you could finally be home.

After a fast few pumps, he was ready to come undone. He slowed you down and then demanded you picked up the pace. You were told to open your eyes and look at him, but you would close them again after a short few seconds. When he finally did cum, he brought your body close to his cock and let it all spill out on your chest. You felt disgusted, humiliated, and baffled that Spider-Man would take advantage of someone like you.

You opened your eyes once you heard the beep of a phone. Peter had his phone out and was taking a video of the whole thing. He took an additional few pictures and stashed his phone away in case you tried to grab it.

“You might want to clean yourself up, won’t take long to get back home,” Peter tucked himself away and started the car.

When you arrived at the compound you darted out of the car before he could say or do anything further to you. If he wanted to talk he would have to call you now.

You shed yourself of your clothes and began to scrub your body down. No matter how hot the water and how hard you scrubbed, the feeling of Peter on you will forever remain. You took a few showers once you thought the scent and act of Peter had washed off of you. When you left your bathroom it was well past 2 a.m.

Making sure the doors were locked for the hundredth time that night, you finally settled down into bed. You tossed and turned for the next hour until you heard your phone buzz. Not thinking anything of it, you picked it up to see who could be texting you so late at night. Your heart dropped once you saw the messages.

One after another Peter was sending you the videos and pictures that he had taken. Each one made your stomach turn more and more. He was mocking you.

Don’t ever disobey me again or I’ll send these out to everyone.

__

It took a lot to impress Nick Fury after everything he’s seen and been through. Alien invasions, aliens, cat aliens, raccoon aliens… a lot of aliens. However, nothing could’ve impressed him more than reading your progress report from Peter this morning. It took all of Fury not to frame the report and send emails to all of the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents the news of this miracle.

It’s true, over the past weeks you’ve been ever so obedient to Peter. You didn’t move unless he told you to move, didn’t speak until given permission to, he had you right where he wanted you and you couldn’t do anything about it. Even if you thought of telling someone of his mannerisms towards you he would hold out his phone and get the file containing all those pictures ready in a “Send All” email.

Fortunately, Peter never touched you like that night again. True to his word, you would only be treated that way if you ever went against him again. Needless to say, you were walking on something sharper than egg shells. He would tease you spook you relentlessly, even going as far as locking the car door just to see you jump.

Even late at night he would spam your phone with obscene text messages just to taunt you. Sometimes he would send you photos of himself and when he asked for some in return, you had no choice but to give in. Day by day, this man was messing with you and you had no way of outing him.

Peter would be hot on your trail if he saw you making your way to Fury’s office. He would stop you before you could even get to his office corridor. Peter couldn’t have this getting out, his credibility would be ruined and Mr. Stark and the rest of the Avengers would see to it.

He wasn’t happy about what he did, but he didn’t feel a lot of guilt either. What he did that night in the car set something diabolical off in him. It felt good to take what he wanted right there and then. Peter couldn't help but be a little prideful about what he did. He even hinted to Sam a few times that something might’ve happened between you and him.

While he was gloating you were scheming your way into telling Fury what happened. You can’t go anywhere near the man without Peter right beside you, and you can’t call Fury because he never seems to answer his phone. In fact, Fury has been out of the office more and more lately, perhaps keeping up with the other Avengers or being involved with more aliens.

Regardless of what it was, the next time you saw Fury in person you would say something.

__

You finished off your makeup and were now putting on the expensive dress your fellow agents coaxed you into buying for the party tonight. The material was tight and it was a little hard to breathe, but you’d get through it. Your body was buzzing in anticipation and nerves as you checked your hair one more time before heading off to the gala.

Every year, the Stark x S.H.I.E.L.D. Gala was held to promote and spread awareness for local and international charities across the globe. You never had an interest in going before, but this year you were bugged by the other agents to go and Peter had expressed his interest in your presence at the party. If you didn’t show you were afraid of what he might pull in your absence.

The hotel was extravagant, from the way it was decorated to the mass amounts of people in their expensive suits and elegant gowns. You scanned the room for Peter, but saw no sign of him. He was either taking photos with the Avengers or watching you from afar, and you wouldn’t put it past him to do that.

While you didn’t see him you got to work finding Fury. You went through the humongous crowd of people just to see if you could catch a glimpse of him, you even started to ask around, but no one seemed to know where he could be. It felt like forever and you were beginning to lose hope that you would never find him. If anything was going to happen it had to be tonight.

A tap on your shoulder stopped you in your hectic search. You knew who it was just by the clear of his throat. You faced Peter with a nervous smile on your face as opposed to the devilish one on his.

“I‘ve been looking for you all night,” Peter drank in your appearance, “you look beautiful.”

You squirmed under his gaze while he lingered a little too long for your liking. When he was finally done ogling you, you saw the lust in his eyes grow. You gulped as he extended his hand.

“Dance with me?” The band started to play a slow song.

You looked at his hand and then up to his eyes which dared you to say now. Reluctantly, you grabbed his hand as he led you to the dance floor. Immediately, a few wandering eyes were on yours and Peter’s figure as he led the first dance.

“You know I’ve been thinking. Since you’ve been so perfect lately, I was going to recommend you to Stark for a spot on the Avengers,” your skin formed bumps as he spun you around.

“Could you imagine that? My obedient little angel fighting alongside me. Ugh, could there be anything more perfect?”

You were about to speak, but the music had stopped and all attention was directed to the stage. Up walks Fury and Tony Stark, Fury was first to take the podium and began his long speech about the gala and what supporting these charities means to him and everyone here tonight. You kept your eyes on him the entire time and ignored the words Peter was trying to whisper in your ear. You only started listening to him when he squeezed your waist hard causing you to yelp.

“I said, why don’t we go back to my room when this is all over, huh?” You froze when he ran his hand up and down your spine.

“Peter, don’t you think that’s a little inappropriate?” He hummed in disagreement with you and he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“Nonsense, I don’t even know why I asked, it’s not like you have a choice in the matter anyways,” the fucker laughed.

Your body was shaking and your face was turning red in anger. Peter was going to hold you down forever. There was no way you could ever escape someone as evil as him. Peter had a hold on you for as long as he wanted. You only had one chance to escape it seems and Fury had to be your ticket out.

Before you could form a response Fury handed over the mic to Tony. Fury stepped off the stage and you kept your eyes on him for the entire time. He was making his way out of the gala and you needed to be fast in order to catch him. Peter seemed too distracted by what Tony was saying so you loosened yourself out of his grip and stood beside him. Peter only glared at you for doing that, but you didn’t care, tonight would be the night you take down Peter Parker.

Slowly, you slinked away into the crowd as a round of applause sounded off for whatever Tony was saying. Peter didn’t seem to notice you leave and that’s when you took off. People were giving you disgusted looks as you began to run out of the ballroom and chase Fury.

You almost lost him in the elevators, but you took the steps and ran once you saw what floor he was heading to. You shucked off your heels and ran up the many steps to catch him. When you got to his floor, you pushed the stairwell door open and ran after him.

“Director F-,” you face planted.

Your ankles were tangled by some sort of slim rope and they wouldn’t come undone. Fury’s footsteps faded and new ones approached your struggling body. A pair of expensive shoes stopped right by your head as the body leaned down. You came eye to eye with an angry Peter Parker.

“Rebel, rebel,” he shook his head and hauled you up. You were beating on his back the entire time as tears formed in your eyes. The rope-like material was his webs which kept you trapped.

He went back in the stairwell and carried you up a few more flights until he came to his floor. The hallways were empty as everyone was still at the party. You tried to yell, but it only got you a harsh slap on your ass.

Peter stopped in front of his door and opened it. The second he closed it he threw you on the middle of the bed. He made his way to his suitcase and took out a pocket knife. You were screaming uncontrollably and he began to cut the webs loose. You knew better than to fight with a man with a knife, let alone Spider-Man with a knife.

“Rebel rebel, you’ve torn your dress,” Peter noticed the small tear towards the end of your gown and tore up the rest. “Rebel rebel, your face is a mess,” he looked at your makeup stained face. He put his thumb near your lips and began to smudge lipstick around your face.

“Rebel, rebel, what are we going to do about you?” Peter took off the rest of your dress. The only thing you were in was a lace thong. Peter licked his lips and began to trace the knife down your breast.

You were shaking, afraid that he might dig the knife deeper into your skin. Afraid that he was so mad at you he would go as far as to kill you. You started to whimper as Peter looked up. The smirk on his face grew wider and wider.

“Beg for me not to hurt you. Beg like the good little angel you are,” you were so close to not giving in, but Peter dug the tip of the blade into your skin just enough to pinch it.

“Please Peter, please, please don’t hurt me Peter,” he hummed in a way to tell you that he wasn’t convinced by the performance.

“Please Peter, I’ll do anything to please you. I’ll do anything to make you happy. Please Peter, I’m so sorry for being bad,” you were hysterical as he moved the knife further down your body. When he reached your center he chuckled and threw the knife to the other side of the room. He roughly grabbed you by your scalp and made you come face to face with him.

“Anything?” You shook your head in agreement. “Alright, I wanna fuck that naughty mouth.”

Peter pulled off his suit pants and became complete bare from the waist down. He pumped his cock a few times before grabbing your jaw and forcing your mouth open. He didn’t give you any time to get used to his size as he put all of himself in your mouth. He grabbed you scalp rougher this time and pushed your head up and down. Tears formed in your eyes again as you were forced to take him down your throat. He was a moaning and groaning mess until his thrust started to falter. Peter quickly pulled out watching in awe and the trail of saliva connected from your mouth to his cock.

Peter quickly sat you up and ripped off your underwear in the process. He started to rub his fingers along your folds where he found that you were wet. He smirked and chuckled as he continued rubbing up and down to make you become slicker than before. You tried biting back your moans, but Peter would only press down harder on your clit which caused you to cry out.

“See, I’m not so bad, princess. I could be good to you if you’re good to me,” he removed his fingers and pushed you down on the mattress.

“Peter, please,” you didn’t know if you wanted him to stop or urge you on.

“I know honey, I know. Just lay down and let me make you feel good,” Peter rid himself of the rest of his clothes and slotted himself between your legs.

His tip began to enter you and the rest of his length painfully stretched you out. You squirmed a little, but Peter reassured you it would feel better soon. Sure, he wasn’t your first, but it had been a long time since the last guy and you were a bit tight.

“Oh, angel, you really do feel like heaven,” he started to thrust a little faster.

Pretty soon, Peter was getting really rough with his thrust and making you cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure. Peter got carried away and didn’t realize how fast he was going on you. You felt an orgasm building and were trying to communicate that to Peter but couldn’t form the words. Peter felt you tighten around him just a little too hard and he took that as the signal to pull out. After all, he did want to see his crush cum, for him and only him.

You felt the rush of your orgasm after Peter pulled out. When you looked up at him, his chest was covered in the slick sheen of sweat mixed with your arousal.

“Holy shit, you squirted. That’s got to be the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” Peter went back inside you and hoisted himself on his knees and making you face to face with him. “I wanna see that again, and again, and a hundred more times.

He didn’t slow down no matter how many times you tried to beg and plead. Peter ripped out orgasm after orgasm from you and it only coaxed him to go harder and faster. Your bodies were covered in each other’s sweat and you were beginning to get a little tired. However, your eyes quickly shook away their tiredness when you felt fingers prodding your other hole.

“I’ve always wanted to do this,” and as Peter continued his thrusting, he pushed one finger into your tight muscle and pounded into you harder.

“Aww fuck this feels so good,” Peter cried out one last time and finally came inside you.

You both collapsed onto the bed still connected to each other. Tears formed in your eyes once the shock wore off. He had finally gotten what he wanted from you.

__

Only a week went by when you had finally heard from Fury again. This time, he wanted to speak with you privately in his office. Your time with the Avengers program was up and he wanted to give his final thoughts.

“Well Agent, I am shocked to be saying this, but I am thoroughly impressed by your behavior with Peter. A little rough in the beginning, but I’m glad to see you both worked through your differences,” you wanted to scoff, but you wouldn't put a damper on Fury’s mood.

After that night in the hotel, the sex became a regular thing. Peter would demand and you were forced to give in. His punishments were still ongoing as he was still mad at you for trying to snitch on him to Fury, but now that the program has ended you and Peter Parker wouldn’t be seeing each other at all.

“And because of your improving behavior I’ve decided to push through your request,” you furrowed your brows in confusion.

“Request?”

“You know, your request to join the Avengers team officially. Parker has been raving about your skills and training that we decided to recommend you for a spot on the team. You’ll have to meet with Mr. Stark for a few interviews and sessions, but seeing as Peter has talked so fondly of you there is no doubt in my mind you wouldn't be offered the spot.”

You stayed frozen in your seat as Fury went on and on about you. You only left when he dismissed you, reminding you that Tony Stark would be contacting you soon.

When you shut the door behind you, you began to freak out. Peter was planning on keeping you as his. At this point, there would be no way out unless you either die, face embarrassment and let the video get leaked, or wait around until Peter gets bored. Knowing Peter and his fatal attraction to you none of those could happen.

On your way back to your room, you heard the familiar footsteps you’ve grown too disgusted to know. You turned around to face the man who would be running you entire life for who knows how long. Just as you were about to speak he opened his mouth first.

“Rebel, rebel, there you are.”

[haikyuu-appreciation-club]

•You’ll Always Find Your Way Back Home•

Oikawa x Reader

warnings: mentions of heartbreak

genre: comfort/fluff

word count: 1.6k

a/n: this is hot garbage buuuut i needed to finish writing something or i was going to lose my mind sooo i apologize in advance :) alsoo this isn’t proofread soo i apologize for any mistakes

As you sat on the old metal swing, your tiny legs dangled in the air in the attempts to get some movement ,

“Hey Tooru, come push me on the swing!”

Oikawa sighed, stopping what he was doing to peer over his shoulder and glance at your struggling form,

“Y/N, can you push yourself please? i’m kinda busy.”

A pout formed on your face as you kicked your legs faster in frustration, whines leaving your lips at yet another failed attempt to propel yourself forwards,

“But Tooru, I always go so much higher when you push me.”

Oikawa continued to pat at the damp dirt with a shovel, trying his best to get you off his case so he could finish the task at hand,

“Why dont you ask Iwa-chan?”

Looking from the back of the boys head, your gaze wandered towards the lake where a certain spiky haired boy stood with his pant legs rolled up, skimming the water for creatures,

“But he went to go look for stick bugs over by the pond and that’s so far away.”

Oikawa should have guessed that his best friend would’ve wondered off in search of something so gross. Searching for bugs was his favorite thing to do at the park after all,

“I’ll push you later i promise, i have to finish this dirt castle first.”

You let out a huff and stuck your tounge out at him, pulling at the lower lid of your eye as you did so,

“Fine, you big meanie.”

Usually Oikawa and Iwaizumi would take turns pushing you in a contest to see who could get you higher. It wasn’t usually a request that bothered him, but he had been trying to build this stupid castle ever since the three of you arrived at the park and he didn’t have time to get interrupted by your pleas.

Despite his refusal, soon enough the squeaking sounds of the swing filled the air as you found a way to move yourself on your own. A smile came to Oikawa’s face as he peered back to watch you fly back and forth through the air, a grin evident on your face. He knew you could do it, you were just lazy when it came to things like that. Even so, he couldn’t help but feel that he was a bit harsh. You were just asking a favor after all, and he knew if he asked you to push him on the swing, you would comply without a complaint.

After a bit of pondering, he figured the dirt castle could wait. He’d have much more fun spending time with you and besides, Iwaizumi wouldnt let him hear the end of it if he let you play all by yourself. However, before he even made a move to get up from his current position, the jolt of the metal chains and a scream met his ears.

Snapping his head towards the direction of the noise, he watched as your tiny body was thrown to the ground a few feet away from where you sat prior. You had swung yourself so high that it had caused you to be ejected from the tiny swing. Sobs began to wrack your body as your brain caught up with your body and finally processed what had happened, letting the pain sink in.

Oikawa frantically rushed over and knealed by your side, trying to calm you down with soft hushes. His eyes scanned over your body, watching as blood began to trickle out of the tiny cuts on your arms and legs. Bruises began to form as you lied on the cool cement, still choking on sobs,

“Tooru, It hurts really bad.”

The way the syllables of your sentence were filled with sharp breaths caused fear to ripple through Oikawa. If he would’ve taken control and pushed you instead, you wouldn’t have gone as high as you did and gotten hurt. This was all his fault, so the least he could do was figure out a way to help you,

“I know, I know. Everything is gonna be okay, i’ll go get Iwa-chan!”

Your eyes widened at his statement, the last thing you wanted was for oikawa to go away, even for a second,

“No Tooru, don’t leave me alone, i’m scared.”

Oikawa watched as you looked at him with pleading eyes, but he didn’t know what else to do. He was just a little kid and with there being no adults around, the only thing he could think of was to go grab his best friend.

Oikawa gave you an apologetic glace before running towards the lake, leaving you all alone.

~~~

As he stood in the doorway of your bedroom, the way your body shook with sobs reminded him of that day. In fact, he hadn’t seen you cry this hard since and It broke his heart. Especially since the cause of your current pain wasn’t physical like it had been back then,

“Y/N?”

Your eyes widened at the sound of his voice, not expecting him to come seek you out.

Ever since your draining breakup, you didnt have the energy to even get out of bed, let alone answer your messages so it wasn’t unusual for people to worry. However, at that point you never even considered the fact that someone would go out of their way to come check up on you, but you should’ve expected a visit from oikawa with how close the two of you were. Hell, you knew better then anyone that he’d come running with a change in emotion over text so ghosting him for days on end was definitely a guarantee of his arrival.

Normally you would swipe at your tears and plaster a strained smile on your face but right now, you just wanted to cry. You didn’t have the energy to sit there and paint a pretty picture, you were heartbroken and there was no point in hiding it.

As you turned to peer at the figure in your doorway, your body began to move on it’s own. You maneuvered yourself out of the covers and begun to walk towards oikawa,

“Hey, are you oka-”

Before he could finish his sentence you wrapped your arms around his waist, burying your face into his chest. He immediately returned the hug, carefully running his fingers through your your hair.

Unbeknownst to you, Oikawa knew all about your breakup. You didn’t tell him or anyone for that matter, but the combination of you going mia and your prick of an ex posting up close and personal with a new person every other day was enough clues for him. He was furious to say the very least but you were his top priority at the moment. As you shook in his arms, he held you tight, silently letting you know that he wasn’t going anywhere.

He never did forgive himself after that day at the park. Even though it happened so long ago, he never forgot how hurt you look after he abandoned you on that playground. Any other person would’ve forgotten about it, deeming it a silly grudge between children. However, ever since that day, he promised himself he’d never leave you in your time of need again.

You bawled for what seemed like hours, until your cries turned into whimpers. Oikawa’s shirt had been dampened from your tears and his legs had grown close to numbness from how long he’d been standing, but he couldn’t care less. Once he felt your breath slow to its normal rate, he gently pulled you away from his embrace. Your eyes were red and puffy, cheeks stained with countless tears, but you still looked so lovely to him. He brought a hand up to cup your cheek as he shot you a warm smile,

“There you are,” he brushed away at a stray tear that fell down your face before continuing, “Do you wanna talk about it?”

You shook your head. There was no way you could possibly explain the pain you’d been put through without breaking down all over again, and that would be putting your best friend through more than you already had.

Oikawa didn’t push you any further, instead gently intertwining his fingers with yours and tugging you back towards your bed. You were confused at first, until he lightly pushed you down onto the bed. As soon as he did you felt the exhaustion from your breakdown wash over you, causing you to subconsciously curl into the covers below.

As your eyes began to flutter shut you felt the bed sink beside and glanced up to meet Oikawa’s eyes. He propped himself up with one arm as the other gently brushed stray hairs out of your face,

“You should get some rest Y/N-chan.”

You looked up at him with the same desperation that washed over your face all those years ago. He knew you were terrified that if you let yourself fall asleep, he would be gone by the time you woke up. He leaned down to place a kiss to the top of your head before resting his forehead against your own,

“I’m not going anywhere, i promise. It’s time to close your eyes now, okay?”

You hummed in agreement before snuggling into his warm figure.

Oikawa watched as your breaths slowed and your figure went slack against him. He knew that it would be a while before your broken heart healed, but he would be there to cheer you on every step of the way. He hoped that once all the broken pieces had been put back together, he could get the chance to love you the way you should’ve been loved from the start.