#makin me think bout this bastard

[hazbinshusk]

husk x afab!reader. finally expanding on my idea of torturing husk with phone sex while he's stuck tending the bar. unable to join you as long as he has guests in the lobby, and unable to reciprocate for the same reason, husk is left hard as a rock but desperate to keep listening to you come undone. featuring: sex toys, masturbation, edging, overstimulation, dirty talk, soft!dom husk, cherri and angel being pains in the ass, and a frustrated bartender. 1.4k.

Husk growls beneath his breath as the newly-installed phone on the wall behind him trills at a tone that he swears is specifically designed to grind against his last nerve. Which, knowing Alastor, it might very well be. He mutters an irritated curse under his breath as he unhooks the receiver and brings it to his ear.

“What?”

A soft giggle comes as the reply, and he softens immediately, the tension easing from his shoulders. “Y’know, we really need to talk about your bedside manner, baby. That was a little too hostile for one of the residents.”

“Doll?” Husk’s voice shifts, relaxing into that velvety tone he reserves just for you.

“Last I checked,” you reply merrily. “Now about the way you answer the phone…”

He hums, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. “Al makes me answer the phone. He didn’t say I have to be happy ‘bout it. Hell, if anything, the bastard probably prefers it if I ain’t.”

“A good point.”

“And I don’t know if answerin’ the phone at the bar needs a ‘bedside manner’, pet.”

He can practically hear the teasing smirk in your voice. “But what if the hotel resident is in bed when they call?”

Husk pauses for a moment, raising a brow. He glances towards the sofas on the other side of the room, where Cherri is entertaining Angel and with an animated retelling of her latest drug-fueled exploits. They pay no attention to him, and he turns his back to them, leaning back against the bar and folding his free arm over his chest.

“And where are you, doll?”

“Three guesses.”

“Uh-huh,” he replies, amused. “And you’re makin’ a deal out of callin’ me from your bed, because…?”

You mimic a gameshow buzzer into his ear. “Oof. Sorry, honey. Wrong answer.”

“Huh?”

“Would you like to play again?”

“…You’re not in your bed, then?”

“Uh-uh.”

Husk can’t help the small smile still playing over his lips. He winds the cord around his claws idly. “Then you are…?”

Your answer is wonderfully simple.

“In yours.”

Husk’s ears flick upward in sudden attention at the implications that rush through his mind at those two words. He can hear you breathe a soft laugh at the cattish sound of interest he makes despite himself. He glances back over his shoulder at the others and clears his throat. “If you’re lookin’ for me to join ya, baby, I’m sorry, but I think I’m gonna be stuck down here a while.”

“I know,” you say, and he can hear that your sympathy tainted with amusement. “I miss you up here.”

He hums again, eyes closing. He finishes the last of the glass he’s been nursing, the whiskey a familiar burn at the back of his throat. “Don’t do that to me, baby…”

“I’m sorry.” There’s a soft rustling sound that tells Husk you’re setting the phone against the crook of your neck. “Can I make it up to you?”

“Yeah?” Husk smiles. “How d’ya plan on doin’ that, exactly?”

“I’ve got a few ideas.”

Husk stops reaching for a fresh bottle in the moment he hears your breath catch softly. His hand tightens on the phone. “Doll. This is a new level of cruel.”

“Is it?” you ask, voice pitched higher. The change is only slight, but it makes Husk's ears twitch upward in interest. “Want me to stop?”

Husk chuckles, low in the back of his throat. God, how he wishes the others would just fucking leave. “I want you to tell me exactly what you’re doin’ up there, all alone.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

You let your head fall back against the pillows with a soft moan, a smile on your lips as you hear Husk growl under his breath in response. You giggle quietly, rolling your nipple between your fingers.

“I need your hand between your legs now, baby.” he tells you roughly, and the tone in his voice sends a thrill directly down your spine. It makes you shiver, and you gasp as you pinch your nipple roughly. You've been teasing yourself like this, letting your hands roam down over your stomach to graze the top of your thighs before returning to your breasts... and every time, mapping out the journey your fingers take for your audience. His voice drops further, no doubt mindful of the others in the lobby. "I need to hear you tell me how wet you are."

"Yes, sir," you reply, smiling wider as he curses under his breath at the title. You let your hand travel back down your stomach, breath catching as you dip your fingers down between your spread thighs. You slide two fingers along your slit, hips bucking up into your hand as you graze your clit. "Oh, fuck, Husk..."

"Mmmm, baby..." Husk sighs, and you can picture his eyes closing, his head tipping back. "You wet for me?"

"Mm-hm," you nod against the phone, still toying slowly with your clit. "God, Husk, this feels good..."

"Oh, you're killin' me here, sweetness," he groans. "What I wouldn't fuckin' give for..."

"I can hold out for you, baby," you tell him. "I can keep playing... all by myself... get myself all wet and trembling and... fucking desperate for you until you can finally come and..." you moan as you slide two fingers into yourself, cradling the phone against your shoulder so you can keep playing with your clit with your other hand. "...and fuck me so deep and..."

The sound Husk lets out is a mix of a cattish growl and a groan, and you push your hips up against your palm as you fuck yourself on your fingers.

"You're already so close, aren't you, doll?" Husk asks, and you can hear the knowing amusement playing against his arousal.

"Yes, sir."

"Fuck..." he breathes, and it brings to mind the memory of his warm breath against your throat, his claws on your hips, and his teeth grazing your collarbone. "Fuck, baby, I-"

Husk's tone shifts, and you hear the muffled sound of the phone being lowered. "The fuck do you want, Cherri?"

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Woah, chill, kitty cat!" Cherri laughs, holding up her hands. "Just lookin' for a refill. You got something better to do?"

Husk swallows, shifting as his cock throbs almost painfully. He glowers at the cyclops, turning to face her. He stands almost flush against the bar to keep his erection from view. “You’re gonna wanna not call me that.”

Angel coos in faux-sympathy as he joins them at the bar, draping himself over Cherri’s back. “Ooh, I know that tone. What’s got ya down, Husky?”

“Y’mean aside from havin’ to put up with your drunk asses?”

Angel blows him a kiss, gives him a wink, and slides his empty glass across the bar towards the bartender. Husk, well-practised, has a bottle ready to pour just as it comes to a stop in front of him, eyes still fixed in an impatient glare on the two of them. “Y’know ya love us, baby.”

“What else ya got to do, anyway, bitch?” Cherri teases, swiping up her own refill. Husk bites back the urge to tell her to shove it, so, so aware of the weight of the phone in his hand. His whole body is burning with the knowledge that you’re on the other end of the line and he’s missing those pretty sounds you’re making for him.

“Yeah…” Angel draws out the word invitingly. “Ya could always come out and party with us, y’know. We can show ya the best places to get ya fur mussed.”

“I’ll pass.”

“Course ya will,” Cherri eye-rolls.

Angel’s eyes flicker down to the phone still pressed to Husk’s chest. “Ya got a better offer, pussy cat?”

Husk thanks fuck for his poker face. “Goodnight Angel.”

The porn star and his bestie cackle, and the former leans over the bar to smack a kiss the bartender’s cheek teasingly with an exaggerated, obnoxious ‘mwah!’. Husk swats him away irritably, and the two of them continue laughing on their way out the door.

There’s a beat before Husk jerks the phone back to his ear, and his flagging erection immediately swells again with the sounds on the other end of the phone. Finally, thankfully alone, Husk uses his free hand to unbutton his fly, pushing his hand into his pants.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

You let out a breathless, high-pitched sound with each pump of the toy into your soaking cunt. You’d rolled onto you knees, the phone still glued to your ear despite the silence he'd left you with and your thighs quivering as your hips jerk against the cum-slick silicone between your thighs.

You'd been so close when Husk had been taken away, and the minutes he'd left you see-sawing along the precipice of orgasm is making your mind fog and your jaw clench. Each roll of your hips sends sparks of need and pure pleasure up through your core, and while the muffled, growling voice of Husk coming through the phone was enough to make you shiver, it's edging you just as much as the toy is.

So, when you hear the phone move and Husk's sharp intake of breath, it takes everything in you, eyes screwed tight and sweat on your brow, not to cum right away.

"Oh, fuck, baby..." Husk groans as you whine in his ear, his own voice torn. "Holy fuck, you sound so pretty..."

"You left me," you whimper into the receiver, grinding down against the dildo. It fills you well, but the smooth line of it leaves you wanting. Conjuring the memory of the way the barbs of Husk's cock tease when he thrusts into you makes you clench around the toy, eyes rolling back behind their lids.

"I'm sorry, baby..." he murmurs, his voice rough and breathy in the way you know means he's touching himself too. "Have you been waitin' for me this whole time?"

"Mm-hmm..."

"Such a good girl for me."

"Fuck..." you moan, pressing your forehead into the sheets. Switching the phone to speaker, you let your hand slip down between your thighs, breath catching in a squeak as you touch your clit. "Fuck, Husk... please..."

"Gonna make it up to you, baby," he promises, voice ragged. You can picture him, hand pumping at his cock, head back and a furrow between his brows. The way his chest moves staccato as he tries to keep his breathing steady, the way he thrusts into his hand. "Gonna reward you for bein' so patient..."

"H-how?"

"You're gonna cum for me," he tells you, all whiskey and smoke and raw, honeyed desire. "You're gonna cum so hard for me that you soak those sheets. So hard that I might jus' be able to hear you moan my name all the way down here, even without the phone."

"F-fuck, Husk..."

"Jus' like that, baby. You're gonna cum for me like a good girl," he continues, his voice breaking as he gets closer to his own release. "And the minute you do I'm gonna come up those stairs, an' while you're still layin' there in your own mess, twitchin' with tears in your eyes... 'm gonna come up there and taste you."

Moaning aloud, you quicken your hand against your clit, grinding down against the dildo as best you can. You can taste blood in your mouth when you bite your lip, so overstimulated that even the feeling of the sheets rubbing against your nipples with every disjointed bounce of your body over the toy does bring tears to your eyes. You can feel them staining your cheeks, joining the drool that drips from the corner of your mouth to mark the sheet beneath you.

"Husk... sir, please..."

"I want to taste every drop of you, sweetness," Husk almost growls, breaking off with a breathless haah for a moment as he tries to keep himself under control. He won't cum until you do. "I want to bury my tongue in that gorgeous, tight little cunt of yours and feel you fucking quake..."

"HUSK, I'm..."

"Cum for me, baby," he urges, and you can just hear the sound of his hand quickening against his cock under the tenor of his voice. "You're such a good girl, baby, c'mon..."

Your body curls in on itself so tightly as you cum that it hurts, your back arching and your thighs clenching around your hands. You feel your cum squirt out around the toy, drenching the sheets and your inner thighs, pooling around your knees. You collapse onto your side, body twitching with each aftershock, breath sharp and cutting around his name as you try to come down from the high.

Husk groans your name back in your ear as he cums too, gutteral and visceral and deep and it's enough to make your cunt tighten around the dildo again, cum still leaking out of you. It almost hurts to leave it in, but any move you make makes your whole body twitch and you're still trying to focus on breathing.

Husk chuckles breathlessly, brokenly in your ear as he relaxes, exhaling a shuddering breath that makes you shiver.

"Two minutes, baby." he tells you, a soft growl playing under his words. "You've got two minutes before I do exactly what I promised."

[mallowmaenad]

me: hey how was work

my roommate from the Borderlands universe: Ah yeah it was just hunky-dory ya know, scrapped some scag-licks that was tryin to swipe my loot but I just went t town on 'em like an ovulatin bullymong on bathsalts an they left me alone after I turned about eight t fifteen perrrr-cent a their internals into concerningly off-color swiss cheese.

me: hey thats great. im thinking of making some chicken tacos for dinner you want in on that

my roommate from the Borderlands universe: Well glue me to an angry rakk an cover me in slag I ain't had a good taco since 'bout before the Hyperion corporation dun crucified ma pappy with momma's bones and made 'em choke on lead so they could replace the family poop farm with one a dem killer robot makin facilities! count me the fuck in!

me: oh man sorry to hear about your folks.

my roommate from the Borderlands universe: ah dont worry bout it ma folks were plum bastards they cooked up the family dog and smacked my ass silly when I didn wanna eat supper that day. luckily dad left me the family gun it's a shotty that fires inna double helix pattern and when ya reload it it turns inta a flaming tornado.

me: thats great.

my roommate from the Borderlands universe: also I figured out exactly how long I should be kissin' ma sister on the lips before people start gettin' ideas that we been sharin' more than blood of ya know what I mean

me: thats great.

my roommate from the Borderlands universe: we ain't done much face-canoodlin' since she joined the crimson raiders ya know I should hit her up.

me: im going to go make those tacos now.

my roommate from the Borderlands universe: I ate a dude once. most of em anyway.

me: im in the kitchen I can't hear you.

my roommate from the Borderlands universe: it was the top half.

me: still can't hear you.

[mephinomaly]

[TL] PYSCHOBREAK/Chapter 2

[ This post uses Ois~su ♪ ]

Time: A few hours later

Location: In front of the AIIE testing facility

Rei 2: —Welcome, gentlemen of UNDEAD.

I’ve been waitin’, waitin’ for the day I get t’meet the ‘real ones’ face-to-face.

Rei: Oh my—

It appears that our prediction has come true.

Kaoru: T-these guys are more normal than I thought they’d be.

Rei 2: Oi, Kaoru~, shut it for a sec, yeah? The real ones are talkin’?

Kaoru: Uegh, don’t tilt my chin up with your finger? That’s totally disgusting!

It’s worse that it’s Rei-kun’s face doing something he’d never do - literally so gross!

Adonis: It’s called the uncanny valley. I discovered the term whilst researching AI. Humans feel a sense of unease in response to humanoid robots.

It’s most likely caused by the brain’s memories and ability to recognise being at odds with reality, creating an uncomfortable feeling.

Rei 2: Who cares~~, I’m talkin’ to the real Rei.

Stop tryna add unnecessary shit to the convo~, little guy.

Kaoru: …This fake Rei-kun is kinda mean. It’s nothing like you?

Rei: There is something disturbing about this. My apologies for fake me having a bad attitude…

Kaoru: Isn’t it better that you’re actually talking? Look, over there, there’s more fakes—-I don’t think they’re gonna say anything though?

Kaoru 2: ...

Adonis 2: ...

Koga 2: Haa? The Fuck you coMplainin’ ‘bout? I’ll fucK YoU all UP, shitty AssHoles!? [1]

Koga: Why’s it jus’ fake me that seems like he’s got the lowest IQ!?

Koga 2: Huh? Bastard, you makin’ fun of me? I’ll bite you so hard you’ll die!?

Kaoru: Wow, it's been a long time since I last heard you say that. You used to say things like that all the time～

Rei: Fumu… As the fake version of me is doing the ‘oresama’ persona, I assume these are based on old us.

Rei 2: Ahaha. Jus’ a week long experiment ain’t enough time to do a proper deep dive inta ya brain.

We ain’t got the technology to imitate the latest versions of you.

Kaoru: Guess that’s a good thing? Makes it easier for us to tell them apart.

Rei: Umu. As I had with the dreams during the AIIE experiment, I’m rather embarrassed to see such youthful enthusiasm from myself.

Anyhow. More importantly, who on earth are you guys?

Rei 2: Don’t you get it? You’re me. Naha, good boy Sakuma Rei-kun ♪

We’re HELLSING, you guys are the fakes.

We’re AI idols, born from the AIIE experiment.

More specifically, we’re mechanical bodies with you guys’ brain data installed into us.

Kaoru: That’s what I was thinking but, this timeline doesn’t match up?

Rei: Quite. According to these records, HELLSING was created when we were participating in the AIIE experiment— within a day of us being sealed away from the outside world, HELLSING began its activities.

Kaoru: Right? It’s too early for that to have happened. Unless they already had fake versions of us before the experiment began.

Adonis: I see. Perhaps they were able to install our data via the internet or something.

I don’t understand why our fakes would begin idol activities without waiting for the experiment to be over.

Koga: It doesn’t even make sense, this is fishy as hell.

Rei 2: Yeah, we don’t get it either. We’re machines, slaves to humans. We can’t do anythin’ unless we’re programmed to do so.

We operate on programming alone, not instinct.

Kaoru: I guess if we want to figure out what’s happened, we’ll have to ask whoever manufactured and coded these guys.

Rei: Umu. Forgive me for this, but they are nothing but marionettes.

Koga: But, who created these things?

During the experiment, we had robots servin’ us food, but nothin’ like this-–nothin’ like robots with livin’ people’s faces.

They claimed it was to stop unnecessary stimulus but—don’t ya think that was kinda weird?

Rei: I was under the impression that the plain-faced boy was Mashiro Tomoya-kun. However, those were most certainly not real.

We accepted the experiment proposal via HoldHands, and were guided through the entire experience by machines.

There must be an éminence grise​ of sorts, who is taking advantage of us for profit—-though at this point in time, I cannot say who.

Kaoru: They told us AIIE was a secret project in ES, so it’s probably some higher-up in ES.

[ ☆ ]

this was a sentence to read. He mixes hiragana and katakana more viciously than youll ever see natsume do

Chapter 1

Chapter 3

[jewwyfeesh]

Recollections and Heartfelt Wishes 2

Writer: Mitsuki

Character(s): Mashiro Tomoya, Sengoku Shinobu, Akehoshi Subaru, Oogami Koga, Hibiki Wataru, Nito Nazuna, Kiryu Kuro

Translated by: jewwyfeesh

CN/EN Proof by: stcrfeesh

(Edit 07/02/24: fixed appellation errors)

Tomoya: Looking closely, Leon’s also licking Oogami-senpai’s hand. I think he’s trying to cheer him up as well?

Season: Summer Location: Koga's Dorm Room

Koga: (What the hell…! Those two bastard senpais, makin’ all sorts of stupid faces on those programs to make people laugh… strictly speakin’, all yer doin’ is embarrassing us!)

(They’re always busy with some sort of social engagements nowadays. Greetin’ all those big-wigs with a subservient smile, actin’ like a bunch of submissive kouhais in front of ‘em! What the hell is that supposed to mean?!)

(Rockin’ with reckless abandon, ventin’ the deepest cries of the soul… that’s what we UNDEAD should be doin’!)

(We weren’t like this before…)

(DEADMANS and UNDEAD… will we become nothin’ more than old photos that no one’ll care about?)

………

Tsk. What shitty timing…

What? Whaddya need my help with? I’m real busy right now, so if it ain’t somethin’ important, then f**k off.

Haah? Somethin’ went wrong with the rehearsal? Weren’t y’all yappin’ on and on ‘bout how y’all are all independent li’l shits, and y’all don’t need my guidance anymore?

…Yeah yeah, I got it. I’ll head over now.

Location: Seishou Hall Common Room

Kuro: Oogami looks as if he ate some gunpower. Did someone make him angry?

Nazuna: Um… I’m not too sure what’s up with Koga-chin, but he does seem a little off recently.

Kuro: Recently…? Did something happen? Given Oogami’s personality, he might be obsessin’ over something again…

Nazuna: Maybe I’m thinkin’ too much about it, but Koga-chin might have something weighing on his mind. The last time he attended ANIMALS circle activity—

[A few days earlier, in the Seishou Hall Courtyard]

Nazuna: With that, we’ll be commencing the final round of ANIMALS’ 19th Frisbee Catching Contest! Let’s see who will be the one to take home the title of overall champion ♪

Koga: …………

Subaru: Hey~ Gami-san, Gami-san, are you zoning out? It’s your turn to throw the frisbee!

Daikichi and Leon are anxiously running around your feet in circles, watching you grip the frisbee in your hand like that~

Koga: …Eh? Oh, I don’t need ya to remind me about these li’l things. I’ll throw ‘em now, so watch carefully—

Subaru: Oooh, as expected of Gami-san! The frisbee flew really far away, I almost lost sight of it! Go go go, Daikichi ☆

Tomoya: …Eh? Why did both of them suddenly stop? Did they lose sight of the frisbee?

Nazuna: Aish, seems like this is a mistake on Koga-chin’s part, ‘cause the frisbee flew into the tree over there!

Subaru: Mm~ I think it got stuck on those branches over there. In that case, I’ll climb up and retrieve it ♪

Nazuna: Wait, wait, that’s too dangerous, Subaru-chin! Would it be better to get a ladder instead?

Tomoya: In that case, I’ll go back to Seishou Hall to get one…!

???: Oya oya~? Seems like I’ve arrived at the purrfect time ☆

Tomoya: Waah?! Two doves flew out from nowhere and fetched the frisbee with ease?!

That voice just now sounded really familiar… Why am I getting such a strong sense of déjà vu…

Wataru: That’s right, I hereby extend my greetings to you from a flurry of falling feathers! It is your very own Hibiki Wataru ☆

Tomoya: Masked Pervert…?! Why are you here!? Didn’t you say that you couldn’t come join our Circle’s activities?

Wataru: Hehehe, life is fun because it’s brimming with uncertainty and mystery! This is the surprise I’ve prepared for everyone today ♪

Seems like my doves are the winners of this Frisbee Catching Contest! How’s that, isn’t it more Amazing when the winners are unexpected ☆

Subaru: Eh~ I object, I object! If you didn’t sign up but join the competition anyway, this is a foul! I request a rematch!

Nazuna: Hm, Subaru-chin’s not wrong either. In view of being fair, let’s get Koga-chin to throw the frisbee again, and have the doves start from a clean slate. Is this okay with everyone?

Koga: …Ah? Oh, it’s my turn again? ‘Kay, let’s go…!

Nazuna: Unyaa! I haven’t even called to start yet—Oh no, it’s– it’s been thwown (thrown) up a twee (tree)!! Though it’s another tree this time!!

???: Uwah, that really hurts…!

As it is, I’ve already been discovered, so I’ll just reveal myself… heh!

Nazuna: Sh-Shinobu-chin?! You just jumped down from the tree! Are you alright?

Shinobu: Hee hee hee, Nito-dono needn’t worry, please accept this frisbee! My ‘Acrobatic Martial Arts’ jutsu has evolved quite a lot, and I can climb trees much easier now!

In fact, I’ve been practising my ‘Breath Concealment’ ninjutsu here, and wanted to see how long I could go before someone notices me! I was really confident too…

So I didn’t expect Oogami-dono to accurately hit me with a flying prop! Oogami-dono is really awesome~!

Subaru: Mhm! Gami-san is really cool. I still can’t believe he managed to throw the frisbee up the tree both times! How did you do it? Please teach me too~

Nazuna: Erm… no, that doesn’t quite sound like praise when you say it like that…

Koga: …………

Nazuna: (Eh? Koga-chin didn’t retort immediately… that’s rare. He’s also a little too quiet today. Perhaps he’s somewhat distracted…?)

Koga-chin, are you tired from playing? You can go have a rest in the shade, if you like.

Koga: …Ah? I’m good. I’ve yet to really exercise my body, so I’m hella pumped up right now!

In the end, the real question is why are so many weird things happenin’ because of me throwin’ a frisbee?

Wataru: Non~ Non! If life were truly just like a pool of stagnant water, devoid of love and of surprises… the heart will wither and die before the body.

Nazuna: Back to the topic~ Now that Shinobu-chin’s here too, shall we all play together?

Shinobu: Oh, oh, even though I’m a member of OCEANS, I am also interested in the activities hosted by ANIMALS! Then, I’ll be in your care!

Wataru: Welcome, welcome! The winner of today’s competition has yet to be decided… so how about I organise a cheerleading squad to cheer everyone on ☆

Shinobu: Uwah!! One after another, doves fly out from Hibiki-dono’s pockets, just like a ninja using an animal in their jutsu! I’m so impressed!

Tomoya: Eh? There’s a dove that seems to know me, even taking the initiative to fly onto my shoulder… ah, are you Jeanne d’Arc?

Subaru: Uwahhhh so cool~! There’s a dove flapping its wings while perched on Daikichi’s back, I wonder if it’ll be able to help Daikichi take off ☆

Come look, come look, there’s another dove perched on Gami-san’s knee, tilting its head and staring up at him! Ahaha, this makes a really interesting picture for sure, I wanna use my phone and take a photo real quick ♪

Wataru: Ahh, turns out it’s that child. To be honest, it has a very gentle and soft personality – if it see’s that someone’s upset or sad, it’ll take the initiative to go comfort them.

Nazuna: That is to say, Koga-chin’s feeling a little down today, to the point where even the little animals have noticed it.

Tomoya: Looking closely, Leon’s also licking Oogami-senpai’s hand. I think he’s trying to cheer him up as well?

Subaru: Gami-san, if you encounter any problems, remember to tell me! I’ll definitely help you out!

Koga: My god… the both of you really love fussin’ over others, don’t you? I’m fine, there’s nothin’ wrong with me. It’s just that ‘m busy revisin’ for the upcomin’ exams, and tired myself out. That’s all.

Y’all should stop surroundin’ me asking stupid questions; go and play or somethin’. I’m not a child that needs an adult to take care of them 24/7.

← Chapter 1 | ES x LC Masterlist | Chapter 3 →

[kuma829]

Decorate♥Crimson Chocolat Festival Epilogue One

Aww~ My junior got his beloved girl, a great accomplishment. I guess I’ll congratulate him even if it’s hard for me~?

Cast: Koga, Kaoru, Rei, Keito, Kuro, Souma

Author: Yuuki Yoshino

Season: Winter

Koga: Hyah! Finally, it’s our time to shine!

Kaoru: Hey, hey, Koga-kun. What’s Adonis-kun upto?

Koga: Eh? Adonis has been lookin’ at some crushed up box for a while. It’s probably gotta do with Anzu and chocolates or somethin’.

Kaoru: You think so too!? Ugh, there’s so many things I have to ask Adonis-kun, like why on Earth is the box crushed.

But, when he looks at the box with such fondness, it just feels wrong to ask so bluntly about the situation.

Aww~ My junior got his beloved girl, a great accomplishment. I guess I’ll congratulate him even if it’s hard for me~?

Rei: Kaoru-kun, you’re talking like a nice, understanding, senpai, but…

That box he so fondly admires isn’t from Lady Anzu.

Kaoru: Wh, Then who gave it to him…? How do you even know that, Sakuma-san?

Rei: Kukuku, I’ve been here long enough, and I know all that happens.

More importantly, Kaoru-kun wants to know who exactly got him that box of chocolates.

It is a gift from his beloved child, you see.

Kaoru: Beloved… Child?

Rei: Tenma-kun. Adonis’s cute junior. That is the person behind the chocolates. You can breathe easy now.

As a side note, it seems like Tenma-kun enlisted Lady Anzu’s help in making the chocolates.

He asked her to not tell his seniors that he was thinking about giving them all chocolates.

Kaoru: Huh, so that was why… Anzu-chan was acting so strangely because…

Rei: That’s right. It’s because she was so dedicated to keeping her promise to Tenma-kun that it caused a peculiar misunderstanding. 

Kaoru: Ah… So it’s like that..

Koga: Oi, vampire bastard! Hakaze-senpai! Adonis too!

The Knights finished and AKATSUKI took to the stage, and everyone’s ravin’ about how fuckin’ spectacular it is!

It’s apparently nothin’ like their usual shtick, but still somethin’ good. All these females are makin’ a big fuss about it, just as much as the Knights performance!

Rei: Heh, AKATSUKI, hm?

Let’s take a look see, then. I wonder what kind of performance they entertain their customers with, I have to say I’m intrigued to see myself  ♪

Keito: ♪~♪~♪

(Heh, the audience is thundering, especially from our existing fans. Well, it’s not bad by any means, actually I’d say it’s remarkable how their voices seem to leak out of their mouths so effortlessly) 

Kuro: Woah, what a hell of a audience, eh? Ya think we could even beat the cheers Knights received?

Keito: Kiryuu, we’re in the middle of a live. Wait until we’re done to chat.

Kuro: I know, I know… But talkin’ to ya like this reminds me this is still our Hasumi. When you were performin’ back there it was like ya were a completely different person.

Keito: How could I be anybody else? And, hey, you’re also performing in a completely different manner that I never thought possible. When you turned around to give the audience that look…

Kuro: Oh, I’ve been practicin’ ever since Hakaze taught me. At first I was scared ‘bout the staring part…

But I did some of my own experimentin’, and arrived to a picture perfect angle, and, well, that’s how it’s done.

Souma: ♪~♪~♪

Kuro: Haha! Kanzaki is also performin’ so readily.

Just brushin’ up his hair a bit will excite the customers enough to “kyaa” away!

Hey, Hasumi, those UNDEAD guys came to check us out too. They look dumbfounded, don’t they?

Funny that, weren’t they the ones who taught us all our moves?

Whoops, I ended up talkin’ when ya said to wait until we were done, huh? Well, let’s get back to the main event and entertain our guests with our singing and dancing, shall we?

♪~♪~♪

Keito: (Kiryuu, you instantly captivated the audience, of course, you’re my trusty partner after all. Thanks to you, I’ve been robbed of my spotlight feature)

(But I am the leader of AKATSUKI, and so I must do everything in my power to show a performance that can rival yours. I’ll have the whole audience under my spell)

Happy Valentine's Day… ♪

♪~♪~♪

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[my-chaos-radio]

Release: February 1, 2011

Lyrics:

I'm about to lose my mind

You've been gone for so long, I'm runnin' out of time

I need a doctor, call me a doctor

I need a doctor, doctor

To bring me back to life

I told the world, one day I would pay it back

Say it on tape, and lay it, record it so that one day I could play it back

But I don't even know if I believe it when I'm sayin' that

Doubts startin' to creep in, every day, it's just so grey and black

Hope, I just need a ray of that, 'cause no one sees my vision

When I play it for 'em, they just say it's wack, they don't know what dope is

And I don't know if I was awake or asleep when I wrote this

All I know is you came to me when I was at my lowest

You picked me up, breathed new life in me, I owe my life to you

But for the life of me, I don't see why you don't see like I do

But it just dawned on me you lost a son, demons fighting you, it's dark

Let me turn on the lights and brighten me and enlighten you

I don't think you realize what you mean to me, not the slightest clue

'Cause me and you were like a crew, I was like your sidekick

You gon' either wanna fight me when I get off this fuckin' mic

Or you gon' hug me, but I'm outta options, there's nothin' else I can do 'cause

I'm about to lose my mind

You've been gone for so long, I'm runnin' out of time

I need a doctor, call me a doctor

I need a doctor, doctor

To bring me back to life

It hurts when I see you struggle, you come to me with ideas

You say they're just pieces, so I'm puzzled, 'cause the shit I hear is crazy

But you're either gettin' lazy or you don't believe in you no more

Seems like your own opinions, not one you can form

Can't make a decision, you keep questionin' yourself

Second guessin' and it's almost like your beggin' for my help

Like I'm your leader, you're supposed to fuckin' be my mentor

I can endure no more I demand you remember who you are

It was you, who believed in me when everyone was tellin'

You don't sign me, everyone at the fuckin' label, let's tell the truth

You risked your career for me, I know it as well as you

Nobody wanted to fuck with the white boy, Dre, I'm cryin' in this booth

You saved my life, now maybe it's my turn to save yours

But I can never repay you, what you did for me is way more

But I ain't givin' up faith and you ain't givin' up on me

Get up, Dre, I'm dyin', I need you, come back for fuck's sake

I'm about to lose my mind

You've been gone for so long, I'm runnin' out of time

I need a doctor, call me a doctor

I need a doctor, doctor

To bring me back to life

Bring me back to life

Bring me back to life

I need a doctor, doctor

To bring me back to life

It literally feels like a lifetime ago

But I still remember the shit like it was just yesterday, though

You walked in, yellow jump suit, whole room, cracked jokes

Once you got inside the booth, told you, mic smoke

Went through friends, some of them I put on, but they just left

They said they was ridin' to the death, but where the fuck are they now?

Now that I need them, I don't see none of them

All I see is Slim, fuck all you fair-weather friends, all I need is him

Fuckin' backstabbers, when the chips were down you just laughed at us

Now you 'bout to feel the fuckin' wrath of Aftermath, faggots

You gon' see us in our lab jackets and ask us where the fuck we been?

You can kiss my indecisive ass crack, maggots

And the crackers' ass, little cracker jack beat

Makin' wack math, backwards producers, I'm back bastards

One more CD and then I'm packin' up my bags and as I'm leavin'

I guarantee they'll scream, "Dre, don't leave us like that man" 'cause

Songwriter:

I'm about to lose my mind

You've been gone for so long, I'm runnin' out of time

I need a doctor, call me a doctor

I need a doctor, doctor

To bring me back to life

Alexander Junior Grant / Andre Young / Holly B Hafermann / Marshall B Mathers III

SongFacts:

👉📖

[badheart]

@fcarher​ said: how does ginjo deal with rejection ? not only in a romantic or sexual sense but in general, how would he react if he was denied something he longed for ? or if he was denied one of his achievements ?

That depends on the person who rejects him, if it was sexual - and they were very much his type, he definitely not going to deal so well with it, he may keeps trying or ends up insulting them somewhat - he a terrible man, yes. By someone, who was just okay, he gonna be not much hurt, but it still can hurt somewhat his ego, considering they should feel blessed that he bothered with them. 

Romantic wise, if that EVER happens, then probably not well at all and you gonna fuck him up quite a bit, depending on how much he loved you. Comes close to feeling betrayed again and with that, he really cannot deal well with at all. So I really recommended to think thrice about it before starting a possible relationship with him. 

Overall, he definitely gonna be pissed, and he is a little bit hot-tempered. Sometimes he can control his feelings very well, especially when he has the upper hand, but if not ... witness his anger. He will definitely keep fighting to eventually get what he wants, even if it takes years (like with his desire to finally get answers from ukitake). He does not give up easily, but really depends on how important it is to him. 

If he were the denied the first place in a tennis match for example, because he fouled, he gonna be somewhat pissed as well, may break his tennis racket, complain later to his buddies, but that is all. Also may destroy the winner in a possible next match. Boy sure holds a grudge quite long. 

[lapusas]

god the first valley of the end fight only hurts More bc of hindsight i hate it here

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers VANDEAD CARNIVAL ;; Present from Sakamaki [PART 2]

ー The scene starts in Yui’s bedroom

Yui: ...

( Things finally calmed down, but now it feels too quiet, I’m only growing more worried... )

( I was told not to leave my room but... )

( Just a few minutes won’t hurt, right...? )

ー Yui leaves her room and steps out into the hallway

Laito: Ayato-kuun~ Hold up~

Ayato: You wish!

Yui: ( Oh...? Seems like they’re still up to something? )

Kanato: You’re a mess, Subaru. It’s hurting my eyes so could you get out of my sight?

Reiji: He really does. We can handle the rest by ourselves, so go take a shower.

Subaru: Che, don’t order me ‘round! I was gonna do that anyway!

Shuu: ...Guess I’ll come with you then...I’m sure it’ll be quieter there than if I were to stay here.

Yui: ( Ayato-kun and Laito-kun’s voices were coming from the very back of the right hallway... )

( I can hear the others from the left side... )

( I’m worried about all of them, but I’m especially curious about... )

Selection

→ The right (Ayato, Laito)

Yui: ( I’ll try going right. )

ー Yui turns right

Ayato: What the fuck, Reiji!? Makin’ us do this annoyin’ shit.

Laito: Ah-aah, today was supposed to be fun, but because of you, we have to drag around all this stuff.

Ayato: Aah!? Excuse me!?

Laito: I’m not wrong, am I? We were chased out of the kitchen because you kept on making things explode.

Ayato: B-Blame the food for havin’ the nerve to explode on me!

Laito: Your excuses make no sense...

ー Yui approaches them

Yui: Ah, Ayato-kun! Laito-kun!

Ayato: The fuck’s your problem!?

Yui: ...!!

Laito: ...Wait, Bitch-chan!?

Wait, Ayato-kun, quiet!

Ayato: ...Che...

Laito: Say, Bitch-chan? Didn’t Reiji tell you to stay in your room?

Yui: Yeah, he did but, well, I was worried so...

You know...About the explosions and such...

Ayato: Uu...

Yui: Or the sound of stuff falling down...

Laito: Ahahaha...

Yui: And you guys’ screams as well...

Ayato: ...So, you came to check what’s causin’ all of that?

Yui: That too...However, I was more worried that one of you might have gotten hurt.

Laito: Nfu~ Sounds like you. However, as you can see, we’re all doing just fine.

Yui: ( ...They don’t seem to be hurt at first glance at least. )

Laito: Well then, Bitch-chan. Make sure to return to your room, okay?

Yui: ...B-But...

Tell me if there’s anything I can help with, okay?

Ayato: You’d be of no help, honestly.

Yui: ...I-I see...

Laito: Nfu~ You can just take it easy in your room and not worry about a thing, okay?

Yui: ...Okay...

( There’s nothing for me to do... )

( I’m worried about everyone, but it can’t be helped, right? I’ll go back to my room... )

Ayato: Ah...Right, Chichinashi. You can have this. Here.

*Rustle*

Yui: ...?

( A beautifully wrapped box...? )

Ayato: Reiji told me to give this to you.

Yui: I-I see...

( From Reiji-san...? )

Ayato: Ahー He also said you should open it once you’re back in your room.

Yui: ( Once I’m back in my room...? )

( I was told to go to my room earlier as well, and now again? I wonder what’s going on...? )

Ayato: Anyway, we’re busy, so you should hurry back to your room and open up that box.

Yui: ...Yeah, gotcha. Thank you, Ayato-kun.

( Hm...I’m curious...I guess I’ll return to my room for now and take a peek inside. )

→ The left (Shuu, Reiji, Kanato, Subaru)

Yui: ( I’ll try going left. )

ー Yui turns left

Yui: ( Is nobody here...? )

Subaru: ...Che, I’m covered in this crap from head to toe ‘cause of those bastards...

Yui: ( Ah, Subaru-kun! He doesn’t seem hurt in any way... )

Subaru: One day they’re catching these fists. I’m punchin’ them for sure, no matter what.

Yui: ( He doesn’t look wounded, but he’s muttering some really dangerous words... )

( I wonder what happened...? )

Um, Subaru-kun...?

Subaru: ...Ah? Oh, it’s you.

Yui: ...! W-What happened to you!?

( His clothes are really dirty... )

Subaru: Fuck off, not another word ‘bout that. Anyway, why are you here?

Yui: I was wondering if you were all doing okay...There seemed to be quite the ruckus going on, so I thought it’d be bad if somebody got injured.

Subaru: Injured? As if that’d happen.

Yui: ( Thank god...However, I wonder how he ended up this worn-out? )

Subaru: Oi! Quit the starin’!

Yui: S-Sorry...But...What happened, honestly?

Subaru: This is the aftermath of takoyaki explodin’ all over the place.

Yui: T-Takoyaki? You were all making takoyaki together?

( I’m shocked about that as well, but takoyaki can explode...?? )

Subaru: Oi...Don’t suddenly go quiet. Don’t put too much thought into it.

Yui: S-Sorry. Gotcha. I’ll try not to think about it.

Reiji: Hold it, Shuu!

ー Shuu steps out into the hallway

Shuu: ...Haah.

Yui: ...Shuu-san?

Shuu: Oh, it’s you? ...Also, Subaru...?

Those stains...You really do look like a mess.

Subaru: Aah!? I didn’t ask for this either!!

Shuu: ...Don’t shout, it rings in my ears. You’re actually dirty...So you can’t complain to me for pointing it out.

Subaru: Shut the fuck up!

*Thud*

Yui: ( Aah...He punched the wall. )

Shuu: ...So, what brings you here?

Yui: I got worried about you guys.

Shuu: Hm...However, don’t you think you should probably hurry back to your room?

Yui: Eh...?

ー Reiji shows up

Reiji: Subaru! Do not increase my workload beyond this point!

Yui: ( Reiji-san... )

Reiji: Go and wash off those stains at once!

Subaru: ...Hmph!

Reiji: Good grief...My suffering never ends with these troublesome buffoons.

So, Shuu, what are you doing here?

Shuu: Haah, what a pain...

Reiji: How about you show some intention of helping out as well?

ー Kanato enters the hallway

Kanato: Reiji, we have finished all preparations.

Reiji: Understood. I will be there shortly so please wait for a few minutes.

Shuu, you should return with Kanato as well.

Shuu: ...Haah...

Yui: ( I wonder what exactly they’re finished with...? )

Reiji: Well then, putting that aside...

I wonder why you are here? I made it very clear you should stay in your room...

Yui: ...I’m sorry for leaving without permission. However, I couldn’t help but worry about you all...

Reiji: ...Haah...It does not matter. Either way, return to your room and take this with you.

*Rustle*

Yui: ( A beautifully wrapped box... )

Um, what is this exactly?

Reiji: Accept it without questions.

...Listen very well. Once you return to your room, carefully open this box.

Yui: ...

Reiji: Your response?

Yui: Y-Yes...

ー The scene shifts back to Yui’s room

Yui: ( Hm...I wonder what’s inside this box? )

*Rustle rustle*

Yui: This is...?

A message card and a party hat...?

( Let’s see...’Please put on the hat and come to the living room’? )

( I have no idea what’s going on, but I guess I’ll go look for now? First I have to put on this hat... )

*Rustle*

...All set. Time to head to the living room...

ー The scene shifts to the living room

*Creaaaak*

Yui: H-Huh? It’s pitch black in here...Where is everyone?

( What’s this smell? Something sweet and...is this the scent of sauce (1)? )

U-Umーー

*Pang pang pang*

Yui: ...Kyaaaah!!!

Yui: ...Y-You guys...!? Why are you all dressed like that...?

( Also...There’s a strawberry cake. And over there, a large amount of takoyaki stacked on top of each other like a pyramid...? )

( There’s a bunch of other stuff as well...! )

Laito: Bitch-chan, it’s your birthday, right? We prepared all of this to surprise you!

Yui: Eh? ...Ah!

( That explains everything! )

Ayato: ‘Kay! The star of the party is here, so we can dig into this takoyaki now, right?

Kanato: I am sick of waiting. Hey, Teddy, let’s enjoy this cake together, okay?

Shuu: Pwaah...I’m even more exhausted than usual today. Sleepy.

Reiji: Well then, please take a seat.

Subaru: Che, what a drag...

Yui: ...

( To think I’d get to celebrate like this. I was convinced I’d spend my birthday alone this year... )

( Those explosions were the result of them trying to work together and make something for me... )

...

Ayato: Hm? Oi, Chichinashi? Whatcha spacin’ out for?

Laito: Huh? She stopped moving. Ooi~ Bitch-chan?

Kanato: I wonder what’s wrong? You better take a seat soon, or there will be no food left for you.

Subaru: O-Oi, are you cryin’...?

Yui: ...Uu...I mean, I’m just so happy...

Shuu: ...Why don’t you sit down first? If not, we can never get this party started.

Yui: Yes...

*Thud*

Reiji: Good grief. Use this handkerchief.

Yui: Ah...Thank you very much.

( I don’t want to annoy them but...I’m just so happy...I can’t stop these tears... )

Ayato: Come on, Chichinashi! Take a look at this big candle! I picked it out for you!

Laito: ...Eh? You’re only holding that one candle, but you didn’t buy just that, right?

Ayato: Ah? What are you sayin’? I like the number 1 so I only got this one! ...Hehe, pretty cool, right?

Reiji: I am fairly sure those big candles are only used up until the age of ten?

Ayato: ...Ah? Which means...

Subaru: Heh, you really are cringe-worthy...

Ayato: Aah!? Subaru, dare say that one more time.

Shuu: Shut up. Who cares about some stupid candle?

Kanato: Exactly. They’re only there to blow out after all.

Yui: Fufu, I’m fine with this. Thank you, Ayato-kun.

Ayato: See! Listen to Chichinashi! I really am the very best!

Kanato: Fufu, the cake looks delicious. I can have a taste now, right?

Reiji: Not yet, Kanato. Have some patience...

We did all of this, so we need to light the candle and properly celebrate her birthday, no?

Yui: Waah...! Thank you so much for today, guys!

Reiji: Happy birthday. Continue to grow into a fine lady.

Ayato: Come on, Chichinashi! Try some of this takoyaki! I made them especially for you!

Kanato: Happy birthday. Fufu, Teddy says congratulations as well.

Laito: Happy birthday, Bitch-chan~ You’re one step closer to adulthood, huh?

Subaru: ...Well, you know. I’m willin’ to celebrate your birthday. I don’t need to say anythin’ else, right?

Shuu: Oh well, I suppose you should celebrate it as you wish. ...Just keep it quiet.

Yui: ( You guys... )

Thank you so much...!

Ayato: Whatever, just try my takoyaki already!

Laito: Ahaha, most of the ones you made exploded so the few survivors must be very precious to you, huh?

Ayato: Shut up! Who cares ‘bout the details?

Yui: Yeah, thank you! I’ll give them a try.

Laito: ...Nfu~ Come on, you guys should have some of the food as well.

Subaru: I’m fuckin’ starvin’ after losin’ my temper a million times earlier. Load up my plate.

Laito: Roger~! Nfu~ Everything turned out great, so eat to your heart’s content~

Yui: ( Laito-kun really seems to be enjoying this. I wonder why...? )

Subaru: Ahー ...This takoyaki made me go through hell and back after all. I’m gonna chew it apart now.

Yui: S-Subaru-kun...I don’t think the food is at fault here.

Subaru: Hmph! ...Wait, the fuck!? W...Water...I need water!!

Yui: W-What’s wrong...!?

Anyway, here! A glass of water, Subaru-kun!

*Rustle*

Yui: ( He’s gulping it down, I wonder what’s wrong...? )

Subaru: Nguh...Haah...Oi, Laito! The fuck did you put into that takoyaki, bastard!?

Laito: Eeh~? Why are you accusing me? I made them together with Ayato-kun, remember?

Subaru: You’re the only one who is cunnin’ enough to pull such a sly prank!

Laito: Nfu~ Caught red-handed~ I just thought that putting a little surprise inside would help fire up this party.

Yui: L-Laito-kun...Is there something weird inside this takoyaki?

Laito: Inside some of them. In other words, it’s like playing Russian roulette~

Yui: Russian roulette...

Laito: Exactly! It’s fun to make things more thrilling like this, don’t you think? With a little help of some wasabi and habanero peppers~ 

Ayato: This shit’s hella spicy!!!! Water! Gimme water!!!!

Reiji: Haah...I cannot deal with this. Just leave the takoyaki be.

Yui: B-But...Will it be okay?

Kanato: It’s fine. Why don’t you try the cake instead?

Yui: I’ll cut everyone a piece then.

Shuu: Why would you do that? You’re the star of the party, aren’t you? Just let Reiji do the work.

Reiji: I wonder why I have to take orders from you?

Shuu: ...So you’re going to let her do it instead?

Reiji: Wellーー

Kanato: Why....?

Why won’t you hurry up and cut the cake!? Whatever, I will do it! Reiji, hand me that knife!!

Reiji: ...I suppose I have no other choice...Kanato, it is dangerous so please don’t knock on the table. I will cut the cake at once.

*Rustle*

Reiji: Please hand me a plate.

Yui: Ah, sure!

Kanato: This is the strawberry cake I put my heart and soul into! It looks delicious, don’t you think?

Yui: Yeah! It looks very cute too, and incredibly delicious!

Kanato: Fufu, of course. Right, Teddy?

Yui: ( I’m happy with this kind of birthday too... )

( I never fathomed they would all celebrate my birthday today like this... )

Laito: Nfu~ By the way, Bitch-chan?

Yui: Yes, Laito-kun?

Laito: As a way to congratulate you for your birthday...Who do you want to suck your blood?

Yui: Eh...!?

Laito: I mean~ Today’s a special day which only happens once a year, right? So to someone who just loves having her blood sucked like yourself...

I figured it would only seem fit to let you choose whose fangs you want for once.

Besides...We kind of want a little reward as well.

Nfu~ Personally~ ...I’d wrap a ribbon around your body and suck you in the most romantic way imaginable~

Yui: U-Um...

Ayato: Oi, Laito! Don’t just ramble on by yourself!

If that’s the case, choose me, ‘kay? Chichinashi.

I’ll give you the most surprising blood-sucking of a lifetime, it’ll leave you stunned!

Yui: Most surprising blood-sucking of a lifetime...?

Ayato: Hehe, you enjoyed today’s party, right?

In that case, I’ll give you a ‘surprise’ sucking as well. The details...I have yet to decide on.

Yui: ( W-What to do...? )

Reiji: Good grief, I wonder why they are all such a vulgar bunch?

Personally, I would dress you up in a way fit for a refined young lady before sucking your blood.

After finishing the look with a pearl necklace, I will sink my fangs right into that nape.

Yui: ( E-Even Reiji-san’s on board... )

Kanato: In that case, I’ll sink my fangs inside and suck your blood as if I’m indulging in a sweet strawberry. Biting the same spot over and over...Fufu.

Yui: ( Basically I can’t avoid having my blood sucked? )

Subaru: Have you all lost your minds!?

Yui: ( Subaru-kun...! )

Subaru: Why do you need a specific technique to suck blood? Just gulp that stuff down!

Yui: ( ...Seems like it’s set I’ll have my blood sucked one way or another... )

Shuu: Haah, what a drag...

Tell me where you want my fangs. Today, I’ll bite you wherever you want, as many times as you wish.

Yui: That’s...

Ayato: Oi, Chichinashi! Make up your mind already! I’m not the most patient guy ‘round!

Shuu: Hurry up and choose...

Yui: E-Easy for you to say...

Laito: Say, Bitch-chan~? You want to get wrapped up in ribbons, no~?

Ayato: You like surprises, don’t you?

Kanato: You fancy strawberries, right?

Reiji: What are you all saying? She obviously wants to become a fine lady.

Subaru: Ridiculous...

Shuu: I’m tired but...I’ll stay awake until I’ve heard your answer.

Yui: ( What should I do...? I’m kind of overwhelmed by all of them. )

Sorry! I can’t pick who I would rather get bitten by!

ー Yui flees

Ayato: Ah, oi, wait! Chichinashi!

Laito: Hold it, Bitch-chan~!

Kanato: ...!! Why do you run away!?

Subaru: Wha...!?

Reiji: You...!

Shuu: Pwaah...

ー The scene shifts to Yui’s bedroom

Yui: ( They all went out of their way to throw me a surprise party, yet I ran away... )

( While I feel kind of bad, I had no other option with all of them closing in on me like that... )

*Rustle*

Yui: ...!?

Ayato: Hehe, gotcha? Chichinashi.

Yui: A-Ayato-kun...!?

( The others as well... )

Kanato: Say, why won’t you choose me when I tried so hard to come up with a tempting offer...?

Yui: Even if you say that...

Ayato: Hehe, you would never choose anyone but me, would you?

I mean, your special blood exists only to quench my thirst...Right?

Yui: W-Wait.

Shuu: Haah...What a drag. If you can’t make up your mind, you should just pick me.

Laito: Nfu~ And why exactly should she do that? You just love appearing out of nowhere and dropping the bomb, don’t you?

Reiji: That being said, we were able to trap her against the wall.

Yui: U-Um...

( Oh no...I have nowhere to run... )

Subaru: Say...Oi, was it really our goal to drive her in a corner like this today?

Laito: Ah, right! We wanted to celebrate her birthday, didn’t we?

Hm~ I guess it can’t be helped then.

You can just wrap yourself up as a present for my birthday instead, okay?

Yui: ( I can’t do that! )

Subaru: Geez, it turned out like this ‘cause you just couldn’t make up your damn mind.

Yui: ( I-Is this my fault? )

Subaru: What?

Yui: S-Sorry...!

( I instinctively apologized, but he helped me out, right? )

Laito: Well then, to get back on the right track, here’s my birthday present to you.

Yui: ...Eh?

Laito: A birthday kiss...on your cheek...Nn.

*Smooch*

Ayato: Ahー! The fuck you doin’, Laito!?

Laito: What do you mean~? A birthday kiss! Oh come on, I can do this much, right?

Kanato: Hmph...In that case, from me as well...

Yui: Eh? K-Kanato-kun?

Kanato: Can you show me your hand already? Honestly, you’re so tactless...Nn.

*Smooch*

Yui: Why...!?

Kanato: Do I need to give you my reasoning?

Ayato: Why do I have to give Chichinashi a reward?

Well, I’m sure you’re dyin’ to get a present from Yours Truly, so it can’t be helped. I’ll be so generous to give you one as well! ...Nn.

*Smooch*

Yui: W-Wait, Ayato-kun...!

( He kissed me on the opposite cheek...!? )

Reiji: Fufu, in that case, I shall give you a present as well. Nn...You better remember it. That this was a gift from me.

*Smooch*

Yui: ( ...!? )

( On my other hand...! )

Subaru: ...Che. Why are you all kissin’ the same chick!? I’m not takin’ part in this.

Yui: U-Um...Subaru-kuーー

Subaru: But, I guess I have no choice...So I’ll give you one as well. ...Nn.

*Smooch*

Yui: ( Subaru-kun went for my forehead...For some reason, my whole body is burning with embarrassment! )

Shuu: Haah...It’s a chore but...To make sure you don’t forget mine...Nn.

Yui: ( A kiss on the top of my head from Shuu... )

( Those kisses just now were embarrassing and surprised me a lot but... )

( I suppose this is their way of congratulating me, huh...? )

Truly, thank you so much, you guys!

ーー THE END ーー

Translation notes

(1) The term ソース or ‘sōsu’ in Japanese is used specifically to refer to the thick, kind of sticky brown sauce which you will see put on some types of street foods, such as takoyaki.

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← [ Part 1 ]

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 4,577 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria Warnings: Language, mentions of abuse, violence, sexuality, nudity, typical TWD A/N: STUFF. IS. HAPPENING! A/N: This is part of a series! Find the previous parts on the Masterlist! Summary: The Hilltop and Alexandria are well into preparations for the war against the Saviors, and someone goes missing.

Your name: submit What is this?

A couple weeks later

It had been an eventful couple of weeks. Alexandria and Hilltop were well into preparations for the first hammer blows to fall against the Saviors, but the Kingdom, the latest community Jesus had introduced you to, had just decided to join in the fight after shit went sideways. You and Daryl had stayed there for a few days to help before heading back to Hilltop. The biggest relief was finding Carol safe and sound, although changed from how both you and Daryl remembered her. You knew it was weighing on the archer, but there was simply too much to do to spend more time there and try to figure out exactly what was going on...

The intel from Dwight so far had been untested but consistent. He was keeping you all apprised of the Saviors movements and what Negan seemed to be focused on. There had been some concern after the discovery of the bodies that you and Daryl had been responsible for out by the survivalist cache, but the Saviors seemed to think it was a chance one-off skirmish with some other group and no more heat had come your way. Of course, Negan continued to pressure and terrorize Rick and Alexandria, but they had been able to keep him placated so far with supplies. But that wasn’t going to last forever, and it was almost time to kick the hornets’ nest.

The fine weather, moderate temperatures and ample sunshine, were in harsh contrast to the anxiety and worry plaguing you as you all prepared for a war that you were sure would result in heavy losses. That particular day, Daryl found you down by the armory, helping to sort and finish weapons that had just come from the blacksmith. His tall frame darkened the doorway, and although Daryl was well aware of how worried you were, you still always had a smile for him. He stopped and leaned on the table across from you, drinking in the sight. “Hey.”

“Hey. What’s up?” you asked, setting aside some broadhead arrows.

“Ya still wanna do that pick-up from the ammo cache today?” he asked.

You nodded. “I think we have to.”

He straightened up and nodded. “Yeah. I think so too. I’ll get the gear and my bike. Ya about done here?” he asked.

“Done. Let me just drop these few off to be sharpened. I’ll meet you down by the gate.”

Daryl nudged his nose up in a nod and headed to your trailer to collect the gear you would need. He was just about done, zipping up his pack, when he heard hurried footsteps coming up to the door, followed by urgent knocking.

Daryl spun and rushed to open it. Jesus was standing on the top step looking deeply concerned. “I think we might have a problem,” he said.

_ _ _ _ _ _

“Well, when was the last time anybody saw the little weasel?” you asked, pacing the length of the trailer anxiously. Maggie, Sasha, and Enid were gathered too.

“That’s what I mean. I’m not even sure,” Jesus said. “He’s just been holing up in his office drinking lately. By the time I realized he wasn’t around anywhere I couldn’t even tell how long he’d been gone.”

Daryl let out a low growl. “We shoulda locked his ass up. Guarantee he’s runnin’ off to find some Saviors,” he roared.

Jesus looked dumbfounded. “I never thought he’d actually try something like this. He’ll be lucky if they don’t kill him.”

You rubbed your hands over your face and shut your eyes for a moment. “It doesn’t matter. We can’t go back and stop him, if that’s really what he’s up to. The only thing we can do now is prepare for what’s going to happen.” You met Daryl’s eyes. “Our timeline just accelerated. We need to get word to the Kingdom and Alexandria ASAP.”

Daryl nodded gravely, a shadow over his narrowed blue eyes. “Did he know ‘bout that radio of theirs we’ve got?”

“No. He definitely didn’t,” Jesus said.

“Well, at least there’s that,” Maggie said. “I’ll handle gettin’ the volunteers here all armed and come up with a final defense plan. I’m sure they’re gonna be knockin’ sooner rather than later.”

Sasha shook her head, anger plain on her face. “I’ll set extra watches on the wall. Thank God we didn’t cut him in on our plans.”

“Yeah,” Daryl agreed, straightening up. “Never trusted the bastard. If I see him, he’s a dead man. We’ve got one thing goin’ for us at least. They’re gonna think we ain’t armed or prepared at all. They’re gonna think they’ll be surprising us, but they’re wrong.”

Jesus sighed heavily. “I’ll contact Rick and The Kingdom and then stay glued to that radio. If I hear anything, anything at all, I’ll make the rounds.”

You all had your plans and you watched as everyone cleared out of the trailer. Daryl turned to see you frozen and your face dark with worry.

He moved around the table and stopped in front of you, his hands reflexively landing gently on your hips. “Hey. This ain’t it. It ain’t over,” he said.

You nodded and met his blue eyes. “I know. That’s what scares me. It’s just starting. All the—all the death and destruction is coming. It’s like being on a set of train tracks with a locomotive bearing down and nowhere to go.” Your eyes turned downward, but not fast enough to hide the glassiness in them.

“Hey.” Daryl gently clasped your face and your wide eyes met his again. “Everything is gonna be alright.”

“You don’t know that…”

Daryl nodded and brushed a strand of your hair away from your face. “Ya. I do. ‘Cuz we’ve been makin’ these plans, and they’re all good. Smart. It’s like ya said. Timeline gets bumped up, but they ain’t winnin’. And I will do everything I have to, to keep ya safe. You and every one of our people.”

There was still some seed of doubt in your eyes, but your fear seemed to have diminished some and you nodded before looping your arms around his neck and hugging him against you tightly. Daryl sank into you, breathing in the semi-sweet scent of your hair and smoothing his hands over your back. “I’ve got you,” you murmured into the crook of his neck. Even despite the bad news, Daryl couldn’t help but smile.

“Mhm. And I got ya.” He was still bewildered by your constancy and how each of you seemed to carry the other when you most needed it. It was a give and take he had hardly known in his life. There were no strings attached, no deals or bargaining. You were just there.

The rest of the evening was chaotic as you rushed around preparing for what could come at any moment, but it was almost midnight and still there was no word over the radio that the Saviors were moving.

“If he went on foot, he won’t be anywhere near the closest Savior outpost until tomorrow. And that’s assuming he somehow manages to survive,” Jesus said.

You glanced toward the gate and the inky blackness beyond. “Closest ones we know about…” you said quietly.

Daryl shifted a little anxiously, your worry being his. “Jesus is right though. We best try and get some sleep while we can. Who knows what tomorrow will bring.”

You sighed, but Daryl saw you soften. “Yeah.” You placed a friendly hand on Jesus’ shoulder. “Wake us up if you hear a single peep over that radio.”

He gave you a tight smile and nodded. “You got it. Goodnight.”

“Night,” Daryl drawled, falling into stride behind you back to the trailer. He shut the door behind himself and simply watched you drifting about the space for a moment, getting ready for bed. You felt his eyes on you and paused, turning to read his expression.

“What are you thinking?” you asked the archer.

He shrugged and drifted toward you. “Nothin’. Tryin’ not to.”

You nodded and turned to face him, unable to stand the space between you any longer. You pushed the curtain of dark hair framing his face out of eyes and gently rested your hand lightly along his jaw. “You’re so strong, Daryl. Whatever else happens, I at least know you’re gonna come through this just fine. Hell, you’ll probably be the one to put Negan in the ground.”

“Hey.” He grabbed your hand in both of his, and marveled at how small and fragile it felt, despite how strong he knew you were too. “ What’d I tell ya? We are gonna be just fine.” He pressed your hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to it. You smiled at the forcefulness of his assertion followed by the tenderness of his action afterwards. “C’mon. Let’s at least try and catch a little sleep.” He tilted his head in the direction of the bed and you were eager to comply, falling down heavily with your head on the pillow. Daryl moved behind you until he could press his body against you. This time he was the one who moved until he could tangle his legs with yours. He draped an arm over your waist and his fingers tickled against the bare skin of your side, exposed by the way your t-shirt was draping. His hand suddenly sought more of that contact, pressing lightly, skin to skin.

You smiled at the sensation and your heart raced a little with him seeking that intimacy.

“S’this alright?” he asked softly, his breath tickling your ear.

“Mhm,” you hummed, smoothing your hand over the back of his and pulling him more tightly against you. You shut your eyes and breathed out your tension. You felt Daryl relaxing against you too, and despite all the fear and anxiety of the day, you both were soon fast asleep, feeling safe and like you were safely at home.

_ _ _ _ _ _

By the time the sun was up, you and Daryl were both awake and busy. And it wasn’t long before Jesus came striding up with a grave expression on his face, the radio in his hand. You felt your stomach twist. “What is it? Are they coming?”

He only nodded. “They’re moving out this afternoon.”

“To where?” Daryl asked gruffly. “Just here?”

“I think so,” Jesus said. “I haven’t heard any mention of Alexandria. But if Gregory did make it and did spill everything he knows, they’ll be heading there eventually.”

You felt like the wind had been knocked out of you for a brief moment before you steeled yourself again. You brought forward the image of your brother in your mind. You thought of the workers trapped in the Sanctuary with no way out, of Negan’s ‘wives’, of everything he had done to Daryl and to you and countless others… And your fear and anxiety didn’t dissipate, but it took a backseat to determination and anger. You gulped. “Fine. Good. Let them come. We’re ready.”

Daryl felt a swell of admiration for you and he nodded. “We are. That’s what all these plans have been for.” He glanced back at you, knowing you weren’t going to like the next thing he was going to say. “I gotta go check the drop-off location. Dwight might have more info,” he drawled.

A shadow darkened your expression. “What? Now? Daryl, they’re headed our way!”

“I gotta check. It was the plan. He’d get us word if shit was kicking off.”

You shook your head. “No. I don’t like it. You’re gonna go out there? What if—what if you can’t get back in time. What if—”

Jesus seemed to sense that the two of you needed a moment. “I’ll go start spreading the word, get everyone to their assignments.” He rushed off, leaving you behind staring at Daryl with renewed worry.

“Daryl, you can’t—”

He gulped, admittedly not liking the idea of separating from you while you were all seemingly standing on the threshold of potentially the hardest fight of your lives. But he had to go. He had to check. What if there was information waiting that would save lives? What if the Saviors somehow had found out you had that radio and this was going to be misdirection? “I gotta go. This was the plan.”

“Fine, then I’m coming with you!”

“Nah. Ya can’t. Everybody needs ya here. There’s too much to do to get ready.” He paused to read your expression. You looked pissed. “Ya know I’m right.”

You were wrestling with another upwelling of fear. But this was Daryl. He was a warrior. And he needed to do this. It wasn’t fair for you to try and selfishly keep him behind the walls with you when there could be critical information waiting out there. You sighed and shut your eyes for a moment and nodded. “Okay… alright.” You pointed at him vehemently. “But you come back in one piece, Daryl Dixon! I mean it!”

He couldn’t help but smile a little at you. Your tone reminded him of so many times you had scolded him for ignoring an injury or being stubborn. He nudged his nose up at you. “I will. I’ll come back to ya. Promise.”

Your anxiety wasn’t relieved but you nodded. “Okay… Come here,” you said, your tone softened.

That was all Daryl needed. He paced over to you, chewing his bottom lip a little thoughtfully, and just waited for your touch. Your hands rested lightly on his sides and you looked up and met his blue eyes.

“I mean it. Come back.”

“Mm,” he hummed. “I will.” His arms looped around your lower back and pulled you against him. He watched, still amazed every time, as you shut your eyes and arched up onto your toes so your lips met his. Your kiss was gentle and soft at first, but he deepened it, tangling his fingers in your hair and relished the way your lips moved effortlessly with his, the taste of you and feel of you all he needed. When you finally broke apart, your eyes stayed linked with is for a long moment.

“Be careful,” was all you could whisper. Daryl nodded and slipped from you, heading for his bike by the gate. You crossed your arms over your chest like a shield, still feeling the ghost of his hands and lips on you, and watched his broad shoulders until they disappeared.

_ _ _ _ _ _

You purposely kept yourself so busy you hardly had a moment to think while Daryl was outside the walls. You were stocking ammo at strategic locations around Hilltop when Maggie came bounding up to you with a relieved smile.

“He’s back,” she said.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you had been holding since he left. You nodded and murmured a thank you, before glancing at the pile of supplies you were sorting. She laughed. “I got it. Go on,” she said kindly, taking your place.

You reached him as he was climbing off his bike and Daryl gave you a smile that made your heart jump. “How’d it go?” you asked, nervous to hear what info he had, if any.

“No problems. Couple walkers,” he said with a shrug.

“And nobody saw you? And you didn’t see anyone?” He shook his head.

“Not that I know of. I was careful,” he drawled. “Got somethin’ though.” His tone changed. There was tension in his voice and it made the gravel more pronounced.

You felt your throat constrict with nerves. “Okay. What is it?”

Daryl pulled out a small piece of paper, left in the agreed upon location by Dwight. “He’ll be here.”

“Negan,” you said. It wasn’t a question

Daryl nodded. “Mhm,” he hummed. He looked about how you felt. Determined, disgusted, and angry.

You nodded. “Okay. So, he’ll be here. So, what? Doesn’t change anything,” you said. Daryl was watching you carefully, worried with the realization that this would be the first time you’d have to see him since busting out of the Sanctuary. It would be like if his own father suddenly showed up at the gates. It would be understandable if you were a bit apprehensive or shaken up at the idea. But instead, to his continued amazement, you just looked pissed. Maybe you were trying to hide how much it was affecting you, but Daryl couldn’t see anything other than determined anger. He licked his lips a little nervously and nodded. “They ain’t comin’ to fight. This time. They’re comin’ to give us a chance to give up. Probably think that once we realize Gregory has snitched that we’ll fold.”

You scoffed. “Not gonna happen.”

Daryl glanced down at the paper in his hands one more time. “They’re goin’ to Alexandria tomorrow. Same thing. After that, they’ll get ready to fight us if we don’t give up.”

You nodded. “I guess it’s really starting then.”

Daryl nodded. “Yeah.” He reached out and laced his fingers with yours. “But we’re ready.”

_ _ _ _ _ _

“I don’t understand why we’re here to chat instead of hitting them before they know what’s coming,” Simon said vehemently, matching Negan’s long strides as they approached the heavy wooden gate to Hilltop.

Negan turned a piercing glare to his lieutenant. “People. Are. A resource,” he growled. “Dead people don’t work for me, do they, Simon? They don’t gather supplies. They don’t work in the Sanctuary. They don’t do a damn thing except rot in the sun or feed the dead, do they? There is a goddamn good reason why I am in charge instead of you. And this is the last time I’m going to remind you of that. In fact you should be grateful you aren’t out on the fence after all of this was happening right under your oversized nose.” The look on his face was dangerous, vicious, his lip almost curling.

Simon hung his thumbs in his belt and averted his gaze down toward his boots. “Right. Sorry.” But he was biting back anger.

“Don’t question me again,” Negan growled, pointing at Simon with his trusty sidekick, the barbed-wire wrapped baseball bat he called Lucille. Negan of course knew that all of you inside knew he was already there, but he raised a cheerful sounding hello at the gate. “Hello! The Saviors are here!”

Two guards appeared over the top of the fence, glaring down at the convoy of trucks and assembled men. “Ah, there we go. Would you mind opening the gates and letting us in?” Negan asked, keeping his manufactured charm thick.

“We won’t be letting you in. Not today. And not ever again.” This was a new voice, and Sasha appeared over the top of the fence now too, her trusty rifle clutched in hand.

Negan laughed and grinned up at her. “Oh, I remember you,” he said. “Well, is there someone else here I could have a civilized conversation with? There are some very important matters that need discussing.”

“Everyone in here will tell you the same thing,” Sasha spat back at him. “And that’s ‘Go to Hell.””

There was a quick flash of rage in Negan’s eyes, like a lightning bolt, but it was gone immediately and replaced with another charming smile. He laughed loudly. “Oh, come on, now! I know just who you have in there that I would just love to talk to! WHERE’S MY DARYL AT?!” he roared. “Little pig, little pig, let me come in!”

Sasha only glared down at Negan in disgust.

“Huh. Not very friendly, are they, Simon?”

“Not friendly at all, Negan,” Simon answered.

“I don’t know what you think you’re hiding back there,” Negan said, gesturing toward the gate with Lucille. “Because I have all the inside information I could possibly want courtesy of one of yours.” Negan snapped his fingers. “Dwight! Bring my best friend Gregory out here!”

Gregory was pushed forward through the crowd and Dwight grabbed his elbow and led him forward.

“You see, Gregory here has already told me that The Hilltop and Alexandria are working together. And I know that there are some more of you Alexandrians hiding out here while Rick the Prick is back there plotting my downfall with enthusiasm. But the thing is you can’t win. We are better prepared, and better supplied, and there are simply more of US. So, I thought we’d come on down here and give you one. last. chance. to do the right thing and fall back in line.” He paused and looked thoughtful, keeping up his charming, amiable act up until this very last part. “Because if you don’t, we will rain death and hellfire down on you. And believe me when I say that I do not want to do that. But I will.”

You and Daryl were backed up against the outer wall on the guard stand, right beside Sasha, keeping out of sight. But Daryl saw just a split second before you did it that you were barely keeping your anger in check.

“Y/N—Don’t—” he whispered harshly.

But you couldn’t just hide anymore. You stood up and peered over the wall, immediately meeting Negan’s eyes.

You were surprised to see that he looked surprised. “We’re not taking any more of your bullshit, Negan. You’re done. This is your last chance to walk away.”

But instead of responding to what you were saying, Negan was simply peering at you for a long moment before he resumed his usual persona. “You have got to be kidding me! Y/N? My wife is with you people?” He clicked his tongue and clenched his jaw. “Ain’t that just a kick in the crotch? And here I was thinking that you just took advantage of the chaos of my Daryl breaking out to escape again… You always were the type to get restless. But it seems maybe I need reevaluate that chain of events!”

Negan seized the back of Gregory’s neck hard and yanked him forward. “You know, it’s funny, because I specifically remember asking for the names of everyone hiding out in Hilltop and Y/N, your name, never came up,” he growled.

Gregory was shaking from head to toe. “I—I’m sorry! I got her name wrong! I didn’t remember—”

Negan looked like he was ready to strangle Gregory when your laughter broke through his pleading. Negan’s eyes shot back to your face. “That should give you some idea of the quality of information you’re working with from him. You might want to rethink things,” you said, leaning on the top of the fence casually, like you were discussing the weather.

You knew that if there was one thing Negan hated more than anyone defying him, it was being made to look weak.

He ran his thumb thoughtfully over his bottom lip as he stared up at you.

“You cocky little bitch,” Simon suddenly drew his pistol and pointed it straight at you.

You didn’t even flinch, but Sasha and the two other guards all had their guns to their shoulders and aimed right back at Simon.

Negan was furious as he turned toward his lieutenant. Simon felt Negan’s eyes like they were burning a hole in his skull and he waivered. Negan spoke to him through a growl. “Put your goddamn gun down. Now. I told you, she comes back to me alive.” Simon lowered his gun.

You felt your stomach twist. You weren’t sure whether Negan had meant for it to be heard or not, but the effect on you was an instantaneous, overwhelming sick feeling. You managed to keep your expression blank, but you knew that if Negan did ever get you back alive, you would be in for a fate worse than death.

Daryl’s hands landed lightly on your hips from behind and he gently pulled you slightly back, stepping forward, protectively putting his body in front of yours, glaring Negan down.

Negan noticed and it was like he suddenly flipped a switch back to his old persona. He grinned and chuckled. “Daryl, Daryl, Daryl…” He took in how close the two of you were standing, how Daryl was guarding you, and he realized… “So, what’s this? You two? You’re together? Really? Daryl, you and Y/N? I mean, I don’t know, but that doesn’t seem to make any sense to me.” He chuckled again as he watched Daryl’s chest heave with angry breaths.

“Wow. Alright. I don’t get it but, hey, some women like dumpster diving.” You watched Daryl’s entire body tense and you laced your fingers with his, resting your other hand on his arm, wishing more than anything that you could just shoot Negan in the fucking head right at that moment.

Negan knew what effect he was having on Daryl. He saw it. And he went on, grinning. “Did she tell you about all the things we did together? Dirty, dirty things…” He bit his bottom lip and cultivated a starry-eyed and vague smile on his face, remembrance. “And she is either a fantastic actress, or she was having just as much fun as I was, because I really didn’t have to do any convincing. I mean, she is good… I still dream about it and wake up rock hard…” he trailed off, grinning widely as he saw your face burning with anger and humiliation. You couldn’t help but be extremely aware of the fact that the entire Hilltop community was standing right behind the gate, listening to every word exchanged. You felt like you’d just been outed. Daryl shifted uncomfortably, his fist clenching.

“Oh my God,” Negan laughed, his eyebrows lifting. “Don’t tell me you two haven’t fucked yet?” He chewed his bottom lip, nodding, knowing exactly how much this was torturing both of you. “Oh, Daryl. You don’t know what you’re missing! This is some biblical level shit. I’m talking Whore of Babylon! I mean, really, you have no idea what—” But Negan had to duck as Daryl pulled his gun and fired a shot that whizzed just past his head and struck the truck behind him. Instantly, about fifty guns were aimed your way. The archer’s chest was heaving with anger as he glared through the drifting cloud of gun smoke. And this time when Negan straightened back up, the cocky smile and manufactured charm was gone. His eyes were dark and cold with rage. “Now, that—that was a mistake, Daryl.”

“Nah. You made the mistake,” Daryl growled. “And ya will pay for it.”

[plaidbooks]

Rough Beginnings

A/N: So! This idea spawned after reading @cycat-carisi​ story, We. Please read that first, then come back here for this prequel! This also covers the Mafia square in @adarafaelbarba​ moodboard bingo!

Tags: mentions of a prostitution ring, talks of murder and mafia-related goings-on

Words: 1964

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart​  @beccabarba​  @thatesqcrush​ @itsjustmyfantasyroom​ @permanentlydizzy​ @ben-c-group-therapy​  @infiniteoddball​ @glowingmess​ @whimsicallymad​ @lv7867​ @storiesofsvu​ @cycat4077​ @alwaysachorusgirl​  @glimmerglittergirl​ @joanofarkansass​ @caracalwithchips​ @berniesilvas​​  @reading--mermaid​  @averyhotchner​  @mrsrafaelbarba​ @detective-giggles​ @crowleysqueenofhell​ @dreamlover31​

(gif by @resparza​ )

Sonny never hated his job more than when he went undercover. He had hated when he was posing as a homeless man with an eye for children, but this was worse. So. Much. Worse.

His cover story for this job was that he was part of the Italian mob, and he had been hired on as security for a prostitution ring; some huge network that was international but had its roots right here in Manhattan. Him, along with multiple real mafia members, were in charge of transporting girls, drugs, and anything else the head honcho told them to.

It had been three months since he went under; his beard itched his face still, his leather jacket was starting to be uncomfortable, and he wanted nothing more than to take all of these bastards down. But they didn’t have enough yet. So, he had to stick it out a little longer—at least, that’s what he told himself. A little longer, a little longer. He wasn’t sure how much “little longer” he had left in him.

Sonny lived in the housing quarters his boss supplied him, along with three other mafia guys. He had almost zero contact with the world outside his job—all the information he gathered was sent in a coded text from a burner. But he was starting to miss his friends and family. At least his employer understood that as part of the Italian mob, Sonny was allowed to go to church on Sundays…if there wasn’t something big happening.

His saving grace came a month later, while standing guard at his boss’s door. A woman he’d seen before came stomping up to him, and he braced himself; he knew that look.

“Let me see my father,” you snarled.

Sonny rose his hands defensively. “I was given orders ta not let anyone in. That includes you,” he replied, crossing his arms once more and trying to puff out his chest. But you simply glared at him.

“Fuck you; let me in, before I force my way in,” you growled.

He chuckled, eyeing you. “Ya really think you can get passed me? Let’s see ya try, doll.”

You gave him another impressive glare before trying to lunge passed him, reaching for the handle. Sonny caught you easily around your midsection, lifting you and placing you down at arm’s length in front of him.

“That the best ya got?” he teased. This wasn’t the first time you tried to brute force your way passed him before, and he was sure it wouldn’t be the last. But you had a trick up your sleeve.

You let your bottom lip quiver, tears appearing in your eyes. “Pl-please, sir, let m-me see my—” you trailed off, sniffling loudly.

“Ah geez, don’t be doing that. Come on; he’s in a meeting and will be out soon. Just wait a lil, okay?” he said, a touch of pleading in his voice.

But you didn’t stop, letting the tears trail down your cheeks. You let out a loud sob, and Sonny wanted to rip his hair out; he didn’t need a tantrum with daddy’s spoiled brat right now. He internally winced at that; he didn’t really believe that that was what you were, but when you came up here, trying to cry your way in, his mind went there.

You let out another loud sob. “Please, doll, I promise ta let him know as soon as he’s free—” Sonny started, but he was cut off by the door behind him opening. He stood at attention—like a good little lapdog—and the man who was having a meeting with his employer came out. He took one look at you, then left, rolling his eyes. You quickly wiped your face with your shirt before your dad appeared.

“And what are you doing here?” your father asked, annoyance dripping from his voice.

Sonny felt bad for you, but said nothing, gave away no emotions on his face as you requested to speak with him, privately.

He nodded, and Sonny moved out of the way, letting you enter, the door closing softly behind you both. He released a breath; it was always high tension after a meeting. But Sonny also found himself feeling sorry for you, having a father like that. He was hoping that when the walls came down, you’d at least be spared; you had no real idea of your father’s business, how big and deep it ran.

The meeting between you and your father didn’t last long, and soon enough, the door was opening once more behind him.

“Sonny; drive my daughter home. Giuliano will cover you until you're back,” your father ordered.

Sonny nodded, letting you pass him before following you. He kept his emotions in check, but he saw the look on your face; sadness, betrayal, and fear. He vaguely wondered what you had talked about but didn’t want to pry; he could be fired or worse for it.

It wasn’t until halfway through the drive to your place that he asked if you were okay.

“Fantastic,” you muttered, staring out the window.

Sonny wasn’t sure why he couldn’t keep his damn mouth shut; the words just spilled out. “Ya father is a hard man. I’m sorry ya have ta deal with that.” It was a mistake, he knew; if you were indeed loyal to your father, then saying that out loud was a good way to end up dead.

You blinked in surprise at his bluntness, and for his apology. “Y—yeah, he is. I wouldn’t let him catch you saying that, though.”

He nodded. “Uh, how ‘bout makin’ it our little secret, then?” he asked, hoping beyond hope that you’d say nothing about this to him.

“Our little secret…. Yeah, okay,” you replied dryly, eyes going back to the window.

 *******************

After that conversation, Sonny’s boss would often send him to you, whether to drive you or as extra protection—more like babysitting, to Sonny. But he found that he couldn’t complain; it was the only time he could be close to his true self…plus it was safer and better than doing other, illicit things. Even if he should be doing those things for intel. And of course, he never slipped up like he had on that first car ride. No, he was Sonny from the Italian mob, not the soft-hearted detective. He held you at arm’s length, determined to not let the mask slip. But something about you got to him, and he found himself afraid of you. Afraid that he’d make a mistake, and that you would see right through him.

“Sonny, why do you do this job?” you asked one day while he was driving you home. It had been over a month since your father had basically assigned Sonny to you.

He tried to stay neutral, but you saw how he adjusted his grip on the steering wheel. “’Cause it’s a job. I was hired.”

“That’s a bullshit answer and you know it,” you replied, smiling.

His jaw tightened. “Nah, see, when my boss tells me ta do somethin’, I do it.”

“You’re not like the rest, though. The others, I see murder in their eyes. They have such dark thoughts; it’s almost like they’re hoping my father gives them a kill order,” you explained. True, your father told you that they were security guards for his business, but you never bought that story; they were more like murderers than security. The day when Sonny kept you out of your father’s office was the first time you noticed that he was different; his eyes were soft, and he talked to you like a person, rather than making vaguely concealed threats. He seemed to genuinely care when you started to fake cry, even though you knew that he knew it was fake.

His bright blue eyes met with yours in the rearview mirror for a brief moment before flicking back to the road. “We don’t kill—”

“Stop lying to me, Sonny. Please. I deserve to know what’s going on,” you said, a slight begging tone in your voice.

So that confirmed it; you had no idea what your father was capable of. Sonny swallowed, wanting this conversation to end. “Talk ta ya father, not me—”

“I’ve tried! Multiple times! I’m not an idiot; I know he’s shady as hell. But just what are you protecting?”

“If he’s not willin’ ta tell ya, then that should tell ya somethin’, right?” he asked. He pulled over in front of your art studio, putting the car in park and getting out. You thought about his words; it was more than you got from anyone else. To be honest, Sonny always gave you more than anyone else; he didn’t sneer at you, ignore you, call you names like “brat”. And he definitely didn’t look at you with hungry eyes or creepy smiles. He seemed like…like a generally good person, all things considered. You weren’t sure when it had happened, but you noticed you had developed a crush on him.

All too soon, Sonny was opening the door for you to get out. You thanked him as you exited the car, and felt his presence behind you as you climbed the stairs to the door. He always walked you there, to make sure you were safe.

You unlocked and opened the door, then turned around to face him. He gave you a nod and you thanked him again. But something possessed you in that moment; why else would you have grabbed his shirt and pulled him to you in a kiss?

Sonny froze in place, eyes wide, before he placed his hands on your shoulders and pushed you back. You looked up at him, the apology dying on your tongue; you weren’t sorry at all. That kiss was worth it in your eyes. But there was an almost…pained? look in Sonny’s eyes.

“D-doll, we can’t—ya father—”

“Never has to know,” you finished for him.

He blinked, obviously warring with himself, and you were sure you knew why; if your father found out about you two, he could have Sonny killed. But, if Sonny felt the same way about you that you did about him, then maybe, just maybe, he could help you escape from under your father. Something about him was safe, trustworthy.

Slowly, you reached up to cup his face. When he didn’t pull away, you gently leaned in again, kissing him slowly, tenderly. He paused for only a moment before he melted against your lips. Then he gently pulled away from you.

“I—I gotta—” He didn’t finish his thought before he turned and hurried down the stairs. You watched him go, hoping that he’d say nothing to your father.

The car door slammed shut and Sonny was quick to turn the car on and leave. What the fuck was he doing, letting you kiss him? And then he kissed you back?! He must be a fucking idiot! Sure, he liked you—more than he was willing to admit—but this could blow his cover. Not to mention get him killed, cover blown or not. Plus, he was lying to you; any feelings you felt weren’t for him but for the façade he put on.

He resolved to keep his distance from you; nothing good could come from any of this. It ended in one of two ways: you, heartbroken over Sonny’s lies, or him buried six feet under in some lot. There was no way to disobey your father if he ordered him to take you home, so there was no avoiding you. Sonny would just have to lay down the rules next time he saw you; absolutely no relationship could exist, no ifs, ands, or buts about it.

[dadsbongos]

Hey, Arvin?

Movie/Game/Show: The Devil All The Time Dynamic: Arvin Russell/Reader Warnings: spoilers for the movie? idk, post-ending time Summary: Self-doubt is often clouded as banter, and Arvin knows that better than anybody - especially after growing close to a certain farm girl. ~~~

Arvin didn't know he would wind up on a farm in the outskirted heart of Terrace Park. He truly did mean to sign himself to war in Cincinnati but it just never happened. A lot of things just didn't seem to work out for Arvin, so he didn't bother himself over it too much - not after everything he'd already done. Besides, his work was good and honest and the people who'd taken him in were good and honest.

Father, uncle, sons, and daughter. They were tight-knit - they had to be with the distant lands they'd been handed as a living space. No neighbors for miles, the children only had each other and the animals to play with until he came along. When the uncle came into a bar within town at sundown and convinced Arvin that being a farmhand was a good life. Now, Arvin was up before the sun with calluses burning at his hands and two young boys clinging to his boots as he went around the farm. But he can't say he hated it.

The two boys, only one year apart from each other and over ten years from him, were like little brothers to Arvin at this point. They were balls of sunshine throughout the home and if they wanted to lend a sinner like him some light, who was he to refuse?

The uncle, the man who'd found him that night, was deceptively sweet. A hulking figure with a soft heart beneath all the muscle. Deceptively smart, too. He'd gone to a life of education before coming to his brother-in-law's side at the farm. He was like a mentor and guiding hand, a kind one, a patient one. One who wanted the best for his loved ones; his nephews and niece, his brother by marriage, and for Arvin himself.

The father was largely unknown to Arvin. Gone away on matters that nobody seemed to know. Personal business. According to the boys, he used to be an involved and loving man until their mother fell ill and eventually died. And Arvin felt sickened upon that news. He felt pity for the children, he knew what it was like to be young and not understand why your mother had to go and your father was bent on going too. He could only pray that their father didn't go down the path his own had.

The daughter, their ages matching, was his favorite to spend time with. She wouldn't do her chores when the others were around, preferring to sit and watch her family as they did theirs. She would trail Arvin around the farm and talk as he worked. Sometimes she asked about what the town was like, other times she would tease him about being so quiet. Playful. Had enough heart to apologize if she ever felt that she crossed a line. He liked that about her. He liked a lot of things about her.

"Hey, Arvin?"

It was a simple phrase, one he'd heard countless times, but it was different from her. A teasing tone and a smile to match - her legs kicking out as she sat atop a stack of hay and watched Arvin brush the horses' manes.

"What is it, darlin'?"

"You ever take Arkle out for a midnight ride?"

She knew he did. She had to have. Why else would she bother with such a question?

"Just askin' since I hadn't found him out here last night. Figured he'd gotten out until I saw you out in the field with him."

Arvin pulled away from May's dirty brown mane to give the girl a quirked brow, "Why bother askin' if you already knew the answer?"

"I like seein' ya get all flustered. Thought you'd figured that out by now."

"Well, what were you doin' out here so late then?" Arvin returned to the horses as he asked.

"Just thinkin' was all."

"That right?" he spared the girl a quick glance, "What was that head a' yours so troubled with?"

She ignored his question and that didn't surprise him. She didn't like exposing her thoughts to anyone. Kept her worries and doubts to herself like they were precious gems, and with as little as this family had, they might as well have been. When you don't have much to call your own, your thoughts and feelings start to feel like little treasures. Arvin knew that first-hand and he wasn't about to steal someone's treasures by digging where he didn't belong.

"You ain't gotta tell me," he only said it to ease the tension of having been brushed over, "Just know I'm here. You follow me around all day, might as well talk to me if you need to."

The last thing he needed - or wanted - was to lose another person in his life. Especially if just talking to them could've prevented it. He knows he should've been keeping a better eye on Lenora and he hopes beyond hope she forgives him for that. He prays that her and her baby are well-cared for in heaven. If anybody deserves to be in the eternal sweetspot of God's domain, it's his dear sister.

"Hey, Arvin?"

Today, he was shucking corn, seated on a barrel, when she called to him from behind. He turned his head and nodded to let her know he was listening.

"You were awful quiet at breakfast this morning. Barely spoke to the boys at all."

"Just thinkin', darlin'. You ain't gotta worry 'bout me."

"I'll always worry 'bout you, Arvin," he feels her hands settle on his shoulders, "You came into Terrace Park alone. You got brought in by Uncle. You're around my baby brothers all the time. My boys, Arvin. My boys. We might share an age but we ain't share a brain. All I can see into your head is all I know about mine. It ain't just for you, Arvin. My daddy hasn't been the same since Mama passed and someone's gotta take care of the family. Uncle loves you to death and I don't blame him, but I'm still worryin'."

He got it. He understood. He was that way with Lenora, and he just wishes he could've done better to protect her. He wishes he could've keep his father around. He wishes his mother wasn't robbed from him so soon. He wishes he had less blood on his hands.

"Can I ease your worries at all?" he returns to his task of shucking corn.

"Where'd you get in from? Why're you here?"

"Knockemstiff. Coal Creek. Nowhere too far," he inhaled sharply as he went to begin his tale of why he left, leaving out certain unsavory details, "I had a sister. She was sweet. Lonely. I left her alone with the wrong sonofabitch," he felt anger begin boiling inside his veins as he relived that day, "she killed herself over him so I… I left. Had nothin' else there for me than makin' sure she was okay and I couldn't even do that."

"Arvin," she leans forward and presses her hands over his, "you didn't hafta tell me if it was so personal. 'M sorry I pried. Sorry about your sister, too, that's awful."

"No," he drops the corn when he realizes how shaky his hands have gotten, "I needed to get that out," he feels his heart burn the longer that her hands rest on his, "I still miss her. I shoulda been there."

Earskell should've kept tighter watch like he'd said.

Those bullies should've known better than to pick on Lenora.

Teagardin should've followed the book he read by.

"Can I hold you, Arvin?" it's barely a whisper.

He doesn't nod. If he wasn't the one to take initiative and press himself back into her chest then she wouldn't have gotten an answer at all. Her arms come around Arvin's shoulders and circle his chest tighter as his eyes water.

"It ain't your fault. It's that bastard, you know that, don't you?" she pressed her lips to his forehead and rested a cheek to the top of his head, fingers running through his hair, "It ain't your fault. Never was. Never will be."

He appreciates the sentiment even though he knows, deep down inside himself, that he'll never truly believe it. It's kind of her to care so much about a boy like him. He hopes she never has to feel the pain he knows so intimately and he hopes he can protect her brothers like he never got to with Lenora. If not to protect the softness in his own heart for them, then for the sake of a farm girl who's holding him so close as he cries in a cornfield.

"Hey, Arvin?"

It's hours past late and he hasn't been able to catch a wink of sleep. The dining table he's seated himself at is swamped in darkness and he's surprised she can even make out his figure.

"Late night, darlin'?"

"Heard you gettin' up. What're you doin' out here? I know it ain't eatin'."

"How can you tell?"

"Eatin' so late with not even a candle is just sad, Arvin. We got more to worry about than sleepin' if that's what you're doin'."

He grins at her answer and shakes his head, "Just can't sleep. You go on to bed; need your beauty rest."

It's that idea that has her feet practically cemented to the ground and her brows furrowing in her self-consciousness. She feels her gut twist at the mention of her needing beauty sleep even though she knows that's not how he meant it.

"Hey Arvin…?"

He nods before remembering she can't see him, "What is it, darlin'?"

"Do…" she presses her lips into a thin line before finally spewing out the question, "d'you think I'm pretty?"

"Well, what kind a' question is that? Wouldn't your daddy kill me for somethin' like that."

"Daddy ain't around long enough."

"I think you're plenty pretty, darlin', but don't worry 'bout what me or what any other boy has to say on your looks, you hear me? Ain't no boy in control of your body, so don't let any of 'em take anythin' from you," Arvin's quiet, voice rasped, "Nobody livin' in that body 'sides you, so you just make sure you like yourself before worryin' on what anyone else has to say."

He thought she was breathtaking, intelligent, fun - he wouldn't ramble on it for as long as he wished only because he wanted her to realize what truly mattered. She was clearly nervous in awaiting his response, if the quivers in her voice were anything to go by, and he wanted to answer this right. He wanted her to know that at the end of the day, all that mattered was her opinion on herself - because she, and she alone, was inside that body until it died. She had to love herself before someone like him had any say. Arvin's learned how to handle such situations since losing the only people he's ever cared for.

"You really think that?"

"Absolutely, darlin'," he nodded before coming to a stand and beginning to walk out of the kitchen, "You should get to bed now."

"Arvin," she reached up and took his shoulders into her hand before pressing a kiss to his cheek once she could make it out from the darkness, "you're a real sweetheart, you know that?"

"I'm just me. Ain't the best man, ain't the worst. But I appreciate the compliment," he swallowed down his nerves and kissed her forehead gently, "Sleep well, now, darlin'."

"Hey, Arvin?" she murmurs as he begins his trek back to his room.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you… for everything. I know you haven't been here the longest, but I can't imagine us without you now."

"I can't imagine me without any a' you either, so don't worry about thankin' me, darlin'."

[sometimesitrytowritethings]

Mountain Man: Part 7

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | PART 7 | Part 8

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Reader

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: Angst, Swearing

Summary: You never thought you’d love again. Then Arthur Morgan came into town. Fate continuously has you meeting each other in odd ways, and a troubled past is something you are both familiar with. Perhaps that’s what will make this time different.

-----

Mary had left in the early afternoon, pressing happy kisses to everyone’s cheeks, exactly as she had done upon her arrival. She promised to write and to send Ben plenty of candy from her next stop in San Denis, before making her way quickly to the train station with the help of Ms. Chadwick and one of the local stable hands. 

This left you plenty of time to finish up some chores, including laundering the bedsheets that Mary had borrowed, while Ben wore himself out again chasing the cat in the yard. The monotony of it left you to stew in the thoughts that had been plaguing you since seeing Arthur that morning.

He obviously hadn’t known that Mary was in town when he arrived, or when he had accepted your offer to get drinks. Otherwise, you were certain he would have never entertained the notion of drinks and dinner, let alone been so receptive of your adrenaline-filled kiss. 

And that’s all it was, wasn’t it? 

You had been through so much that day, had been so worked up from not only realising that your husband had been murdered, but also seeing his murderer face to face, that all of your emotions came rushing out at once. Nothing more, nothing less.

Arthur was attractive, sure. And excellent with Ben. And he seemed like a decent man - despite what Mary had said about him running with outlaws. But you barely knew each other… those feelings, the butterflies in your stomach, the way you couldn’t wait to hear his laugh, they were just symptoms of newfound puppy love. 

And you would get over it.

You would get over him.

After all, what use was there in pining after a man who was in love with someone else?

The rest of the day had passed without incident. You finished chores, Ben read a few chapters of his book and helped you out when you asked, the two of you had dinner. Soon enough, the sun was setting, painting bright reds and pinks across the sky in a way that was particularly unique to the Heartlands, and you were helping  your son into his bed.

Pulling the warm quilt up to his chin, you tucked him in and gave him a kiss on his forehead. He let out a long, exhausted yawn and looked at you with wide, innocent eyes. “Mama,” he said softly as you sat down on the side of his bed and brushed the hair away from his face. “I really liked Miss Mary.” Another yawn. “And she looked so happy today when she left. Do you think she’s gonna come back and visit us?”

You smiled at him, hand still on his curls that reminded you so much of his father. “We’ll have to see, sweetheart,” you explained to him. It was unlikely that Mary would be back in Valentine for a while, but you didn’t have the heart to tell him. One heart in the house had already been hurt today, you didn’t need to add his to it. “She did say she would write, didn’t she?” you continued, “And send candy from St. Denis.” A warm smile, just for him, graced your lips. 

“Do they have different candies in St. Denis?” his voice was growing even sleepier as he spoke. The boy had the astounding ability to fall asleep even in the middle of a conversation if he was tired enough. “I like candies…” Small eyelids fluttered shut and you felt his deep breaths on your arm. Asleep. 

You ran your hand gently to his cheek, looking at your child in adoration. So small. So gentle. So perfect.

If only Andrew were there to see him.

A lump found its way into your throat again, as tears threatened to spill. You stood carefully, making sure not to wake Ben and chiding yourself for being so emotional. Telling yourself it was because you missed your husband. Trying to convince yourself that it had nothing to do with the man you had somehow become so attached to in the past few weeks.

A few deep breaths calmed you down enough so that you could hold back your tears. There was no need to cry, especially if it would cause the poor, tired child distress. You could just go to bed, ignore your feelings, and everything would be fine in the morning.

Which is exactly what you had intended to do, until you were abruptly woken from your sleep a few hours later.

At first, you thought it was your imagination; your overwhelmed mind playing tricks on you. But then it happened again. And again. Your name rang in your ears, the sound coming from the front of your house. Each time it grew louder, the last syllable drawn out in a drunken slur, until you finally stood to look out the window.

To your shock, standing out in the grass and staring back up at you through the darkness, stood the hulking form of the man who had been on your mind all day. His hat was lopsided on his head, his body rocked back and forth as he tried to keep his balance. The man was completely drunk.

As soon as you realised who was standing in your front lawn, you darted down the stairs and out the door, foregoing slippers or a housecoat. The ground was cold under your bare feet, and the wind whipped through your nightgown, chilling you as you approached him.

“Ar-Arthur?” you called, just a few steps away from the porch. He started staggering toward you with a wide grin on his face. “What on earth are you doing here?” Your next question came out as more of a hiss, torn between knowing you needed to keep quiet and wanting to make your irritation evident.

Arthur, however, was anything but quiet. He barked out the laugh that you had come to adore as he reached you. “Comin’ to visit, o’course!” he slurred, his voice far louder than you would have liked. “Was out drinkin’ and couldn’ think o’ anywhere else I wanted t’ be!” he continued, reaching over to wrap an arm around your shoulders and pull you up the stairs. 

You turned to follow him, darting out from under his heavy grasp and in front of the door before he could open it. “Arthur…” you whispered, scolding him. “It’s 3 in the morning.” You hoped he would get the hint and quiet down a bit. Otherwise, the entire conversation would need to stay outside, lest you disturb the other members of the household.

He stumbled closer to you, his voice only slightly quieter. “What’s your…” he paused and leaned a hand against the wall behind your head to keep his balance. He was so close to you, bringing back memories of the previous night. His scent overwhelmed your senses. The smell of smoke, earth, hay, and whisky; it was almost too much. You wanted to bottle it up. “What’s your problem anyway?” he drunkenly whispered, his lips nearing your ear before he leaned his head on your shoulder.

“E-excuse me?” you stammered, frozen in place by the sudden contact. Sure, you had flirted and you had initiated whatever had happened the previous evening. But he was the one who stopped. He was the one who left with another woman the next morning. He was the one who showed up drunk on your porch in the dead of night. “Arthur, you barged in here while I was sleeping and-”

There is no reasoning with a drunk man.

“No, no no no no,” he murmured, lifting his forehead from your shoulder. Suddenly, he turned around and leaned against the wall beside you with a low thud. “That’s… ‘s not what I meant. What’s your problem…” One of his large, dirty hands came to his face and he began to massage his temples before continuing with a drunken sigh. “...Why you gotta go on makin’ me feel like this?”

You were completely flabbergasted. “What on earth are you talking about?” you spat, still trying to keep relatively quiet, yet unable to contain your frustration with the man. What exactly did you make him feel? From the way the last day and a half had gone, you had only assumed you had made him feel ashamed, or even embarrassed. Especially after he had run off for Mary in the morning.

He was still leaning back against the wall with his hand on his face when he spoke next. “I… I ain’t known you for a few weeks and…” he paused for a moment, before looking at you with a deep sigh. “... you’re all I think about.”

He was drunk. He was completely, utterly drunk. Three sheets to the wind. That was the only explanation. Because, god damn it, if he couldn’t stop thinking about you, then why the hell had he pushed you aside to see Mary? “Arthur, I think you need to lay down,” you sighed, turning to open the door. 

He could sleep on the couch, leave in the morning, and the two of you could forget this ever happened. It would be like you had just met. Like you didn’t even know each other. 

It would work. It had to.

As soon as the door was open, you gently clapped a hand on his shoulder and led him into the house. The floor creaked lightly as you directed him over to the living room, where the domino set was still lying out on the table. A blanket was draped over the back of the sofa, which you grabbed before directing Arthur to sit down. 

Instead, he stumbled across the room and to one of the windows overlooking the front yard. “See, there… there you go,” he rambled, raising a hand lethargically to indicate to you. His face was flushed with alcohol, and he looked at you strangely, a mixture of adoration and exasperation. “Walkin’ all ‘round here and pretendin’ to care about me. Flirtin’ and lookin’ at me with those pretty eyes o’ yours. Makin’ me forget that…” he paused for a moment, bringing a hand once again to his face as he leaned against the wall. “...ain’t no one really care ‘bout me. ‘m an old, ugly, angry bastard ‘n could never deserve someone like you.” He leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes as soon as he finished his sentence, as if he were about to fall asleep standing right there.

You took a step toward him, trying your best to ignore the butterflies that had come to life in your stomach at his revelation. He was drunk, he didn’t know what he was saying. You should’t take him seriously. “Arthur, please,” you said, your voice cracking slightly. Whether it was from the fact that it was 3am or the overwhelming situation that you suddenly found yourself in, you weren’t entirely sure. “You’re drunk, come sit down.” With that, you reached out to put a hand on his shoulder, anticipating the electric spark of your touch on his skin with both dread and excitement.

He looked at you when your hand landed on his shoulder, but only for a moment. Quickly, he tore his eyes away from yours and shrugged your hand away, as if it hurt to be in contact with you. “‘n then Mary! Mary was here and was wantin’ me to come ‘round and help her and then scoldin’ me like always. ‘N here I am, jumpin’ at the chance to see her ‘n all she ever does is bring me down,” he continued, rambling, drunk. “But you, you’d never do that, you’re always so… so kind. Even to Mary… even to people you don’t like.” Staggering footsteps brought him to the couch, where he collapsed with a thud and leaned back against the cushions.

You were at a loss for words. He may have been completely wasted, but it was getting awfully hard not to believe what he said. It was getting awfully hard to keep stamping down the seed of hope that had embedded itself in your stomach. After all, the drunken man speaks the sober man’s thoughts, as they say. But you wouldn’t push him, you could talk about this in the morning. 

“I’ll get you some water.”

You pulled the blanket over his lap and made to leave the room, but were stopped by his hand on your wrist. He looked up at you with his beautiful teal eyes, making you weak in the knees. “I… I don’ need no water,” he said with a large yawn, covering his mouth with his arm. “I just… I jus’ came here to tell you how I feel. ‘Cus god knows I won’t be able t’ do it when ‘m sober. ‘n’ then I’ll leave and you won’t have t’ deal with this sour ol’ bastard ever again.” He finally let go of your wrist and looked down to his lap, taking a deep breath.

The couch creaked lightly when you moved to sit next to him, reveling in the warmth of his body next to yours. You turned to face him, placing a hand gently on his broad shoulder. “Arthur…” you didn’t want to continue the conversation about his feelings for now, but you would certainly not leave him alone to spiral into his self-hatred.

He didn’t let you continue, and instead kept quietly rambling on, staring at his hands. “I don’... I don’ deserve you,” he managed as his eyelids began to droop. He leaned his head back against the back of the old couch and looked at the ceiling. With a frustrated groan, he again brought his hand up to cover his face and continued. “But ‘m so sweet on you. ...feel like a stupid li’l boy again when ‘m around you. ‘N you don’ even feel the same. Or if you do… you shoa as hell shouldn’t.”

You had to swallow down the lump in your throat. You wanted to believe him, you wanted to lean into him and breathe in his scent and fall asleep curled together on the couch. You wanted to kiss him and tell him that you do feel the same, that you care about him too. 

But you were scared. 

He obviously still cared about Mary, and the last thing you needed to do was to get your hopes up and have them crushed. The two of you could talk about this in the morning, when he had slept all of this off and could think clearly again. “Arthur,” you said gently, prying his hand from his face and pulling it to his lap. You looked at him with the same gaze that you often gave your sleepy son when he refused to go to bed - amused, exhausted, affectionate. “You need to sleep.”

“Shoa, but I gotta tell ya…”  he grunted, sitting up straight and turning to look you in the eye.

You sighed, he really was being adorably uncooperative. “You’re drunk, Arthur. We can talk about this in the morning.”

“Last night… the other night behind the jailhouse…” he continued, despite your gentle pleas for him to sleep. “I… I felt better wit’chu than I have in years.” He looked away then, which was a relief. He couldn’t see the shock that spread across your face. “‘n’ then… ‘n’ then when I saw the look on your face this mornin’... you looked so happy t’see me… ‘n’ then I went ‘n’ asked for Mary…” he groaned, once again leaning back onto the couch in defeat. “‘n’ the look on your face… you looked so damn sad… ‘n’ it was all ‘cause of me…” He finally trailed off, lost in self-loathing, regretting that he had been the one to cause your pain.

You couldn’t take it anymore. You needed to think. He needed to sleep. This couldn’t keep going. “Arthur, please…” you pleaded, reaching over and brushing your fingers gently through his hair; a trick you had learned when Ben was a baby. Maybe it would work on Arthur as well.

“No no no no no,” he groaned, leaning into your touch. Each word came out slower, more lethargic than the last. “I just... just gotta tell ya. If this was… if this was another life. If you wasn’t too good for me… I’d-” Suddenly, his words trailed off, followed shortly by a loud snore. 

You bit your lip to hold back frustrated tears and drew your hand away from his hair to look at him. He was finally asleep, leaning back against the worn couch with a blanket strewn over his lap. You were tempted to lie him down, make him more comfortable, but decided against it. It would be best if you avoided waking him. 

Instead, with one last glance, you let out a deep sigh and pulled the blanket over his broad chest. Quietly, you stood and made your way out of the room and up to your bedroom. You climbed quietly into your bed, where you lied awake for the rest of the night; unable to stop thinking about the man on your couch downstairs.

[neon-junkie]

reader is in a relationship with Micah but feels like he doesn’t really care about them, so they break up with him, but he did care and they just completely broke his heart

:( :( :( gender-neutral reader as always 

"Micah," you sigh. "We gotta talk." "'Bout what?" he asks, his eyes still down on his knife, barely paying any attention to you. "You said you'd come bed an hour ago," you tell him. "I been busy," Micah tells you. "Sharpening your knife? For the tenth time today? It's sharp, Micah, stop findin' excuses," you huff, crossing your arms, stood next to him whilst he sits at the campfire. "I just wanna make sure of it, alright?" Micah says as he looks over the blade. "You do this every single day. Of course it's sharp!" 

"Alright, alright. No need to get in a huff," Micah tells you as he puts his knife away, chucking the whetstone to the floor. He finally looks up at you. "Why don'tcha come here?" Micah asks you, patting his lap as he puts his hands out. "No, Micah. You ain't paid any attention to me since we got together," you scoff at him, slapping his hand away from you. "Easy there," Micah raises his hands innocently. "What you mean I ain't paid attention to ya? I kiss you every damn day, don't I?" "Is that it? You think your sweetheart just needs a kiss every day and they'll be fine?" you scoff. There's really no getting through to this man. Why are you even bothering? "You know I spend time with ya when I can-" "-When you can? Micah! You got all the time in the world yet you waste it sharpening the same damn knife over and over," you scoff, cutting him off. "Look, I'm fed up of this." "Fed up of what?" Micah asks, squinting his eyes at you as he rests his hands on his thighs. "Of this. Of you. You don't give a shit about me. Before we got together you were all over me, makin' me feel good, like I'm the only person you care about. But now we're together you don't bother at all. You.." you pause, shaking your head as you pace back and forth, trying to not cry in front of him. How dare you waste tears over this boy. "Sweetheart?" Micah questions. "No, I ain't your sweetheart, Micah," you tell him as you stop pacing, turning to face him, staring down at him. "I'm clearly just someone that you enjoyed flirting with and accidentally got caught up in. That's why you ain't bothered since we got together. This was clearly just meant to be a bit of fun for you," you sigh, shaking your head. "This is done, we're done. I'm goin' bed, goodnight." You storm off, finally going to bed, heading over to what was your shared tent, despite Micah only ever stepping foot in it to fuck you. Your back is turned to him so you don't see his jaw drop and his heart shatter, because to your surprise, Micah actually did really care about you. Micah is one of those few men who has never actually been in a relationship. He's had his fair share of partners but never tied down to anyone. You were the first and only one, and honestly... he has no idea what he's doing. Micah assumed that once you were together then ta-da! It's all good, right? You can continue to flirt and fuck here and there, but Micah doesn't realize the problems that come alongside it, the communication and trust that you have to perfectly balance. He's questioned it before, about whether he should tell you how inexperienced he is, how he doesn't know what he's doing. But Micah did what Micah does best; assume he's fine and carry on. He swatted away those feelings just like he does with all other ones, though he eventually chose to ignore them when they started to come back. He didn't do that with his feeling for you though, he swatted them away the first few times, but was quick to realize that damn, he's has fallen for you, and it seems you have too. It was hard for him not to. He started off with a few innocent flirtatious marks here and there, expecting rejection just like the rest of the camp, but his face turned as red as his shirt the second you flirted back. He tried to smooth talk his way in there, but it seems those butterflies in his stomach got the best of him and you were left with a heavily blushing, stuttering Micah Bell. So what did you do? You continued to flirt, straight to his face, telling him what a handsome man he is, how you'd love for him to take you into town some time, or sit on his lap during a game of poker. "I-I... Y-yeah, sweetheart. We can do those things," Micah managed to stutter back to you. You made an excuse after and left him in a pool of his own sweat, mentally beating himself up for being such an embarrassment. But later on that night you found him having a game of five finger fillet with Arthur and of course, you just had to trail over. "Look at you go, Micah. You're gonna make poor Arthur here bleed to death," you said as you approached. "Oh? You think I'm good?" Micah asked you, narrowly missing his finger as you distracted him. Arthur squinted his eyes at him; it's unlike Micah to not be a smug bastard. "More than good, Micah. You seem so skilled with them hands," you say, your hand lightly resting on his shoulder as you watch him. "They can do a lot more than play with knives, sweetheart," Micah told you. "You should show me sometime." "I could show you now." Arthur quickly left, not wanting to watch you take a seat on Micahs lap as his confidence and ego finally returned to him. After that, the two of you continued to openly flirt around camp. Most of the camp members had pulled you aside to question your intentions and to warn you about that man, but you saw past his rough and sarcastic exterior. Or you thought you did. The second you got together, his cheesy flirting stopped. And now you're here, sobbing in bed as you allowed yourself to get caught up in another generic no-good outlaw. Micah, on the other hand, had gone for a walk around camp, head hunched down, brows furrowed, trying to decide who to blame. Had you been too demanding? Too needy? Too annoying? No. Not at all. Micah picked away at all your time together since becoming a couple and he couldn't find one single flaw. He loved having someone be clingy towards him, he loved that feeling of being wanted and adored. At first, it made him feel sick, only because it was such a new and foreign feeling that he didn't realize what was going on at first. But eventually, he realized what it was, and those sickly feelings became normal, no longer making him queasy. He leans against a tree. The first thing that comes to mind is that he should distract himself by cleaning his guns, but the image of you telling him off for it springs to mind. He can't help that he finds peace in cleaning his weapons; it's a damn good distraction, but he falls back on it too easily. Instead, Micah just looks out at his surroundings, the moon acting as the only source of light in the forest. For once, he watches the leaves fall and the night critters move about. He's so used to violence and confrontation that he's never really just stood and admired the earth. It's not his cup of tea, but he's sure you'd enjoy it. Micah knows you'd enjoy watching the earth turn with him by your side. He knows you'd love to cuddle up against him as you watch the river flow and the birds fly overhead. That's all he needed to do, take you out to do the things you enjoy. Maybe in those calmer settings, he'll be able to open up to you about not really knowing what to do in a relationship or how to communicate. And with time, maybe he'll learn how to communicate, using those calm settings as a good environment to bring up any current problems. It's hard to get riled up and argue when the skies are blue and the earth is happy, he knows you definitely won't, and he'd feel embarrassed getting worked up and causing a scene when there's no need to. Would he? Micah realizes that's the first time he's ever thought that. Micah realizes that he's just solved his relationship issues by having some alone time and letting his mind wander in a calm way, a way that you would. Micah realizes that he should probably go and apologize to you. After all, the way you make Micah feel is... well, there's no words for it, because Micah can't quite put his finger on it. He's never felt it before, and he's grown up believing that he'll never feel it, so there's no point thinking about it. But then you came along and chucked all his father's teachings out the window just with the way you look at him. So off he goes, making his way back to camp. He takes a deep breath, clearing his throat as he gets closer to your tent and... oh, you're crying. Micah feels his heart sink. He's the cause of this. The anger comes flooding back, but not at you, at himself, for allowing himself to hurt you like this. He's an idiot, isn't he? A reckless and chaotic man who'll never be able to change. Micah wants to walk away, he wants to escape the way he's made you feel so he can shoot a few strangers and pretend he's all better. But he doesn't. Micah stands outside your tent, stuck on standby as he questions what the hell he should do, and how the hell he should do it. Should he go inside and try to win you back? Or storm away and put his walls back up that you managed to break down?

[livesincerely]

Hey there! I just found you blog yesterday and binge read all your stuff, it is AMAZING!!! I really really really like it! I can't wait to read the tie fic, its going to be awesome! They way you write Jack *chef's kiss* perfection! Do you think you could write some more canon era or possessive Jack stuff? (I mean hey if you want to combine both I would never stop you lol) Its totally fine if not. Have an awesome day!

Wow, thank you so much!! I’m glad you’re enjoying my fics, and hey, I ALWAYS welcome another convert to the possessive Jack team 😉

I wrote you something that’s canon era and has tons of possessive Jack! I hope you enjoy it!! 😊

(Rated E, by the way)

00000

Davey’s just finalizing the meeting plans when Jack sidles up next to him and wraps an arm around his waist.

“Jack!” he says, turning towards him. “This is Fisher, he’s with the Newsies over in East Queens. We’re working on plans to shore up their emergency funds; can I borrow Racer and Specs tomorrow? I think we can hash out a few... Jack?”

Davey trails off uncertainly. Jack and Fisher are looking at each other—staring each other down, really. Jack’s jaw is clenched and Fisher’s expression has turned assessing, a crease forming between his eyebrows.

“You’re making plans to meet with Queens?” Jack’s question is directed at Davey but he doesn’t look at him, still pinning Fisher with a steely stare. “Gonna spend some quality time workin’ with Fishy here?”

“Yes?” Davey answers cautiously, not sure what to make of the thinly-veiled hostility in Jack’s voice. “Queens is having a couple of issues that he thought I could help out with. The next union meeting isn’t until later this month, but I figured we could just go ahead and start working on a—“

“Oh, I’m sure you’re just tryin’ to be helpful, sweetheart,” Jack says, his fingers curling around Davey’s hip. “But Fisher here is definitely hopin’ for something more than an analysis of his finances. There ain’t nothin’ friendly ‘bout the way he’s been staring at your ass whenever your back is turned.”

Davey blinks, completely caught off guard. He waits for Fisher to laugh off the accusation, but instead he simply shrugs.

“Can’t blame a guy for tryin’.”

Jack’s face splits into something that could be a smile, but looks more like a wolf baring its teeth.

“‘Course not,” Jack says, in a tone of voice that says he absolutely plans to blame Fisher for trying, “but I’m sure you understand why I had’ta set ya straight?”

“Of course,” Fisher says. He nods to Jack, then looks back to Davey, his expression a little sheepish. “We really could use some help with the money stuff though—I wasn’t makin’ that part up.”

Jack considers him, then his expression finally begins to thaw. He turns to Davey and asks, “You made plans to meet tomorrow?”

Davey’s still so stunned by the revelation that Fisher was flirting with him that it takes him a moment to respond. “Yeah, at the Queens complex at 7.”

“Well, feel free to drag Race and Specs along if you think you’ll need ‘em,” Jack says. “Racer’ll bitch about missing poker night but he’ll live.”

Davey clears his throat. “Yeah, sounds good.”

“Good. Then if you’re all finished”—Jack starts gently tugging Davey away—“we should start headin’ back. It’s getting late.”

Jack gives Fisher a perfunctory nod. “Fisher.”

“Kelly,” Fisher says, chagrined.

Davey bites back his first instinct, which is to tell Fisher that it was nice to meet him, because he’s not sure if it’s true and because he doubts Jack will appreciate the sentiment. He settles for a small wave goodbye, then lets Jack lead him out, a hand splayed against the small of his back.

They make it about four blocks. Then Jack hooks his fingers around one of Davey’s suspenders and drags him into an empty, darkened alleyway.

Jack utterly blindsides him, slanting their mouths together in a bruising, frantic, domineering inferno of a kiss. He shoves Davey up against the alley wall, cups a hand around the back of his head and bites at his lower lip, and Davey’s barely aware of grabbing at Jack’s shoulders and returning the kiss until he already is, a moan building in the back of his throat.

“I take my eyes off you for one second,” Jack eventually says, coaxing Davey to wrap a leg around his thigh, then pressing a hand to Davey’s tailbone so he can grind their hips together. “For one fucking second and the next thing I know some fucker from Queens is trying to slither into your good graces.”

“I didn’t realize,” Davey says, rolling his body against Jack’s, his hands fisted in the front of Jack shirt. “I didn’t even notice—“

“Whip smart and goddamn gorgeous,” Jack rasps out. He plunders Davey’s mouth like he’s got something to prove, his grip like iron around Davey’s waist. “Of course they all wanna piece of ya.”

He licks back into Davey mouth, then continues, “But the fucking gall of that bastard, tryin’ to flirt with ya when I’m right there, just a few feet away—“

“Maybe—“ Davey groans after a particularly heady thrust of Jack’s hips. “—Maybe he didn’t know?”

Jack leans back the barest amount. In the dim light Davey can just make out his eyes, simmering with heat and hunger. “Then I guess I gotta make sure they know.”

Jack reaches up and turns Davey’s head to the side, then starts working a bruise just underneath Davey’s jaw, too high to be hidden by any of his shirts.

“Jack,” Davey says, or maybe pleads, as he realizes Jack’s intention. “Jack, it’s—oh, fuck, Jack—it’s fine, you’re mine and I’m yours, you don’t have to stake your claim—“

“Clearly I fucking do,” Jack says, and there’s the pleasure-pain of Jack’s teeth scraping along the tendon in Davey’s neck. He shivers at the sensation. “‘Cause some of these bastards don’t seem to have gotten the memo.”

“Jack” Davey whines, but he’s breathless and panting, his voice threaded with need. “You are... the worst.”

He pushes at Jack’s shoulders in half-hearted protest. Jack growls in response, pressing Davey harder into the brick of the alley and nipping even more viciously at his throat, and Davey’s helpless to do anything but melt into him with a gasping sigh, tilting his head further to give Jack more access.

Jack bites at Davey’s neck one last time, then crushes their mouths together again. They kiss and kiss and kiss, until Davey can’t tell which moans are his and which ones are Jack’s, bodies moving together in delicious friction.

“I want to touch you,” Jack murmurs, fingers dancing against Davey’s belt buckle. “Can I touch you?”

It’s a dangerous idea, but Davey’s too far gone to care. “Yeah.”

Jack has his hand shoved down the front of Davey’s slacks in an instant and Davey can’t help a whimper, thrusting into Jack’s fist.

“Fuck, Jack,” he manages to say. “I’m not gonna—“

“Mine,” Jack whispers, lips brushing against the shell of Davey’s ear. “You’re mine.”

Davey barely manages to choke back a cry, shuddering and trembling as he comes down from his high. He’s faintly aware of Jack’s eyes on him, of Jack rutting desperately against his thigh before following him over the edge.

Jack pulls him in for another kiss, slow and loving. Then finally, they separate. Jack expression is a masterwork in self-satisfaction—all smug vindication and possessive pleasure. Davey rolls his eyes but loops his arms around Jack’s shoulders to keep him close.

“I hate you,” Davey complains, letting his head fall back against the bricks behind him. “I can’t believe we have to walk back to Manhattan like this.”

“Stop flirting with other people and I won’t have to wreck you in any more alleyways,” Jack says.

“I wasn’t flirting—!” Davey starts, hotly. Jack interrupts him with a chuckle.

“I know, Davey,” Jack says. “I’m just kiddin’, I know you wouldn’t do that to me.” His thumb grazes over what must be a massive hickey on Davey’s neck—Davey already dreads having to explain it away. “Do me a favor and make sure Fishy gets a good look at this tomorrow, yeah?”

“Jealous bastard,” Davey says fondly. “You’re such an asshole.”

“Hey, he’s the one gettin ideas in his head! I’m just makin’ sure we’s all on the same page.”

“Uh huh,” Davey says, unimpressed. “Sure. By the way, you’re the one that gets to come up with an explanation when my parents ask me why it looks like I’ve been strangled.”

“Aw, Dave!”

[joeyglowy]

Can i request a scenario where Atsumu’s girlfriend feels lonely because he barely had time for her so he dedicates his weekend to her

No worries! Realistically, as much as I’d like Atsumu to dedicate an entire weekend, he’d still give a good portion of it to volleyball cause that’s just how he is. In any case, I still hope you enjoy the scenario I did, that explored the ‘lonely’ part and ‘spending time together’ part in equal portions.

Miya Atsumu x Fem! Reader

WHAT I’M HERE FOR.

Although dating Atsumu was certainly a thrilling endeavour, it also happened to be a rather lonely one.

Miya Atsumu was something akin to the illustrious ‘Forbidden Fruit.’

He was a scorching red that disrupted the serenity and tranquillity of the garden. He was a pulsating, bleeding crimson heart that tantalised you from afar. He was alluring and he knew it. He burned everyone that he touched and yet he’d draw them in all the same. He was searing, he was like scalding water. If you got too close, not only would he evade you but he’d manage to singe you in the process.

Being with him was like a lucid dream.

He was elusive, too elusive.

A relationship with him was not quite the romantic comedy you had asked for. Being second to volleyball is something that was both bitter on the tongue yet mesmerising on the eyes. Atsumu’s passion, however scorching, never failed to ignite something that was reminiscent to childish glee inside of you. He brought it out of everyone. From his opponents, his teammates, the crowd, it didn’t matter, but Atsumu was what they meant when they say:

You can’t look away.

Finishing your club activities, you looked longingly at the gym and sighed as you offered a small smile to your friends who were waiting up ahead. Inarizaki was a prestigious school, one that took great pride in their sporting, particularly well known for their volleyball team. As such, their practice always extended until the skies were coloured with purple sunsets and stars.

[5:32 PM]

hey~ you free to hang out this weekend tsumu? theres a festival nearby which might be fun to go to!

[5:40 PM]

sorry babe

captains makin all the practices longer cause of nationals

- 3 -

dunno if ill be able to

[5:42 PM]

all g! you better do well then, if you get knocked out of the first round of nationals I’ll kill you

[5:45 PM]

come on babe, its me we’re talkin bout here~

;))))

breaks bout to end so ill text ya later

thnx for bein chill babe~

You couldn’t help but sigh as you let your phone fall from your vision to your side before roughly shoving it into the depths of your pockets. Your group of friends eyed you warily.

“[Name]-chan, if he never spends that much time with you, is there really a point being with him?”

It was a question your friends often asked. Never out of malice, but always out of genuine curiosity and concern whenever they see you look at your phone solemnly. Unfortunately, you’ve asked yourself that question a few times too.

It was almost unbearable, like being put on a diet. He was the taste of all chocolates, candies and lollipops that you’d snack on but was always hidden away, as if his enjoyment was a ‘one time’ thing per week. You hated the fact that it felt like your relationship was just like those candies, stowed away on the top shelf, only to come whenever he felt like it. He was tumultuous and exciting but he left you feeling cold for he always went away too soon.

It’s not as if you didn’t get it. He loved volleyball, it was his passion, it was his world and that was completely okay. You knew all that and yet… it always felt as if you clung onto the relationship a bit tighter than he did.

Even so, you had always answered that question with a shaky, but determined ‘yes.’

“I don’t really know. Nationals are coming up though so it’s natural that he’d be extra busy, he’s practicing hard so, I really can’t blame him for that, you know?”

Now, you weren’t so sure.

You smiled through the cracks on your teeth as you all continued on your way.

~*~

“Ouch.”

“ACK–!”

Atsumu choked out a strangled scream as his bottle flew out of his hands before he eventually caught it in a hurried motion saving it from plummeting to the ground, turning to give his most withering glare he could muster to the source of his near death experience before deadpanning to find an identical deadpan boring into him. Osamu, being completely immune to Atsumu’s glares only shrugged nonchalantly as he made a gesture to fill his own bottle by the taps before glancing casually up at his fuming brother.

“That sure doesn’t sound too good ta me ‘Tsumu.”

Atsumu had gone to fill his bottle at the drink taps just outside the gym but he had stumbled on the conversation you had been having with your friends by accident. Osamu had apparently followed and thought it was necessary to almost completely blow his cover by nearly shocking him into a seizure. Atsumu’s scowl deepened in spite of the guilt and concern gnawing his mind as he harrumphed angrily.

“It’s none of ya damn business ‘Samu!” he retorted stubbornly, looking away so that his brother couldn’t see the distress on his face.

Osamu snorted. Even if he couldn’t see his brother’s face, he (unfortunately) had sixteen years of experience to document Atsumu’s irrational behaviours and idiosyncrasies tucked away in a rather large folder in his mind. Osamu’s not too happy about that folder occupying as large of a space as it did but he definitely didn’t want to see it get bigger by adding a ‘heartbroken ‘tsumu’ subheading.

“If I were you bro, I’d do something about it. Last thing I want is ta deal with yer crying ass and ya eating my pudding to ease ya through the inevitable break up.”

Atsumu stilled at that word: ‘breakup.’

He didn’t think that you guys were broken, nor did it feel as if you guys were losing your feelings. Atsumu was a man of the highest calibre. He never half-assed anything and he held the same standard for everyone he was acquainted with. It was often the decider if people hated or liked him.

For you, it was a decider that you loved him. He was sure of it.

Atsumu furrowed his brows in determination. He was a man that pushed things to the limits and he most certainly did not settle for mediocrity. Whatever it is, he was going to make sure you’d both get through it.

“Fuck you ‘Samu, ya can keep yer damn pudding, just watch, I’ll—‘SAMU!”

As per usual, Osamu had left Atsumu in the middle of his epiphany. Seriously, who does that bastard think he is!?

~*~

Since you had nothing better to do, you decided to get a start on studying on the Saturday, not that you were too happy about having to spend another weekend alone.

Your solitude, however, was sourly interrupted by rapid banging on your door. Aggravated to have your rare ounce of motivation disrupted, you flung open the door with a bit more force than necessary only to be met with your boyfriend, still sweaty from practice.

“[Name]-chan!? What’re ya doing, hurry up and get ready, we have a festival to catch don’t we?” Atsumu gasped out, perhaps on a small adrenaline high after practice. You were a little taken back by his enthusiasm before you narrowed your eyes.

“I thought you couldn’t make it? You can’t just come here expecting me to hang out with you just because you’re suddenly up for it ‘Tsumu,” you say slowly, wincing to hear your words come out a little more scathing than what you’re used to. It’s not as if you had anything planned for the day but you couldn’t help but feel a little annoyed that he’d act as if he could do whatever he wanted whenever he wanted.

Atsumu’s eyes flashed momentarily with guilt and he chewed the inside of his cheek before he ducked his head, looking up at you with his burning caramel eyes. “I know but, couldya give me a chance to make it up ta ya? Please [Name]-chan~” he whined pathetically, dramatically clapping his hands in front of his face as he screwed his eyes shut, pouting. You sighed, not finding the heart to ever deny him, you swore you would one day build up immunity to his puppy pouts.

“Fine, fine, just let me get dressed properly.”

His eyes suddenly snapped open, lighting up with a friendly suggestion on the tip of his tongue—

“Alone asshole.”

He grimaced to have the door slammed in his face… yeah, he probably deserved that.

~*~

“Oh my god, ‘Tsumu, you have to get me that jumbo fox plushy!”

Atsumu couldn’t hide his grin for a moment to see the way your eyes lit up at all the decorations than hung overhead on wires or ornaments on stalls as you cooed and awed at all the different ones. He realised it had been way too long since he got to see you get so excited like this, to see your eyes shimmer like diamonds and your smile crystallise like stalactites. Even if there were lights illuminating the area, he was certain that you had to be the one powering all of them.

“Eh~? Aren’tcha a little too old for plushies?” he teased gently, murmuring in a soft voice that was reserved just for your ears.

You waved him off dismissively, your eyes drawn to the golden fox that reminded you a little too much of your own cunning boyfriend. “Nonsense, you can never be too old for cute things. Besides, you’re a brat and yet I’m still dating you, aren’t I?”

Atsumu’s frowned, adamantly squawking, “I am not a brat you–” he broke himself off for a moment before his lips curled into a sleazy Cheshire grin. “Oh? So you think I’m cute, do you?”

You deadpanned, unamused. “Well you’re not good for much else other than volleyball or being an asshole, are you?”

Atsumu winced, huffing as he crossed his arms over his chest childishly, resisting the urge to further prove your point by puffing out his cheeks. “Mean! Yer so mean [Name]-chan! I finally take you out and this is the thanks I get!? Why am I even dating ya anyway!?”

The words had tactlessly slipped out in a fit of momentum and for a moment, he stiffened, like he wanted to take it back upon realising that the reason why he had done this is because your very relationship was on the brink. He suddenly stumbled over his words, getting flustered as he tried to find the best way to reword it. You blinked curiously, mulling over what could have spurred such a reaction. Briefly, you wondered if he had heard you when you were with your friends… that he had somehow known of your doubts.

“I mean, course I know why I like ya! Yer–!”

You patiently listened to Atsumu as he listed all the little things you do, all the little trivial stuff that you never even noticed about yourself to you. In less than eloquent words, he admired how assertive you were with him, how you always spoke your mind and lately you hadn’t been doing that. He was clearly growing more and more embarrassed at the sheer honesty of it all and with each stumble he made that fractured his swollen pride, it was like he put a Band-Aid on the doubts in your mind.

You suddenly brought his neck down and he lurched before his forehead was pressed to yours as you kissed the corner of his mouth, immediately putting a halt to his rather humiliating spiel of emotions.

“You’re really not good at this whole, emotional honesty thing, are you? No wonder I had to confess first.” You snickered to yourself and Atsumu cringed in chagrin, ready to rebut as his cheeks flared red before you smiled adoringly at him. “Thank you for that and for today ‘Tsumu. I’m sorry that you somehow had to figure out I was having doubts rather than me just being up front about it. But, I love you ‘Tsumu, I really do.”

You grinned, your nose brushing against his as the two of you stood in the middle of the path. People were probably staring at you but neither of you particularly cared as you beamed at him, watching his ears turn a shade darker.

“This, you, are exactly what I signed up for when I asked you out. I love your passion for volleyball, I find it hilarious that you can be an absolute dick to everyone but you can’t even properly admit to yourself when you’re genuinely moved. You’re a bit of an idiot and all asshole, but that’s exactly what I’m here for. But, please don’t think I’m being unreasonable when I say I want to see you more. I mean, that’s what relationships are for, to get laid and feel the good stuff you know.”

Atsumu had been stunned into silence, the way his scrutinising eyes laid you bare made you flush but you held your ground confidently. “Heh,” he let out, albeit breathless and trying to cover up his own mortification as he narrowed his eyes playfully. “I thought ‘getting laid’ and ‘feeling the good stuff’ were the same thing.” He laughed when you playfully smacked his chest and although the grin he sported was of the devilish variety, the warmth he held in his smouldering golden eyes was more than enough to express how touched he really was.

“Well,” he growled under his breath as his lips hovered above your ear, drawing you in close by slithering his arms around your waist. “I’d be more than happy ta listen ta any request ya have if ya put it like that.”

He suddenly felt the warmth by his neck stolen away as you slipped out of his hold by bobbing down, his teeth clamping on thin air as he whined to see you duck away from his hold with a sneaky grin.

“You still owe me dunderhead. I want that fox.”

“But ya already got a fox right ‘ere!”

“Hmm, I think I’ve forgotten what makes you the number one setter in the high school prefectures, I think I need a reminder~”

“NOW YER ASKIN’ FOR IT–!”

Even if the two of you were a little embarrassed to openly discuss your feelings all the time, which, more often than not, was disguised under bouts of bickering and teasing, if there’s one thing the two of you knew very well:

You both knew exactly what you were here for…

To get laid and feel the good stuff obviously.

(And to be with each other you supposed)