#much time just aimlessly wandering and debating doing it and i ended up doing it anyway lmfvshj

[keeps-ache]

all it takes is one comment (i have finished another piece 👍))

[the-goddess-of-mischief-writing]

Paperwork

summary: While Price's injury is healing nicely, you're growing needier by the minute. But you're not the only one. With the doctors order in mind, you and Price attempts to stave your hunger by having you cockwarm him in his office.

pairing: cpt. John Price x reader (sunshine universe)

tags/tw: afab!reader, depiction of canon related injury, NSFW, mdni 18+ please and thank you, cockwarming, p in v, teasing, masturbation (f), unprotected sex, creampie, implied age-gap

a/n: Well, that little valentines blurb really helped to get the writing going🫡

Sunshine universe MASTERLIST & John Price MASTERLIST

Christmas passed just as slowly and cosy as you'd predicted, perhaps with one slight change of plans.

You'd returned home the night you'd dropped John from the hospital and helped him settle in somewhat. Despite debating whether to stay the night, your soldier urged you to head home to rest properly after spending so much time away.

You understood he tired of your company. In fact, he had a point, seeing how you wouldn't sleep soundly with him, constantly worrying if you would disturb his sleep by sharing a bed. And you needed a fresh set of clothes anyway. But you also noticed that being hurt took a toll on John. He'd accepted that you would be there to help him, but something told you he needed time to brood over the fact he was on med-leave for the upcoming months.

Once you returned to the flat you'd left in a hurry almost two days ago, you wandered aimlessly, trying to finish setting up your Christmas lights. However, whatever adrenaline the past 48 hours provided finally seemed to ebb, and you crashed on your couch shortly after finishing your task. 

By the time you woke up again, it had been dark outside. Dinner that night hadn't been glamorous, partly because you didn't have any finished food in your fridge and partly because you were yet to be hungry from the late lunch you shared with John before leaving his place. Still, the bowl of instant ramen warmed the cold feeling settling in your body from merely looking outside your window and down at the snowy streets.

You slept in the next day, waking up with a warm body and nose slightly chilled from the cool temperature in your room. The rest of the day was slow. You checked in on John with a message around noon, accustomed to reaching out to anyone in your closest circle around that time, seeing how no one usually was up earlier on the weekend, even if John definitely didn't categorise as one of those. He'd given you the awaited broody reply, grumbling about a horrid night of sleep and a dull ache even after taking his prescribed meds.

You stared at his message for a minute until deciding to give him a call rather than answer it.

'Hell, love'.

'God, you really sound worse for wear', was your instinctive response as John greeted you with a rough voice.

'Cheers', he huffed in return, a groan following shortly after. At that moment, you rubbed your forehead, an ache settling in your heart at not being there with him.

'How about I come over today already? Christmas is approaching, and we already said we would celebrate together. Wouldn't hurt if I stayed with you in the upcoming days with your shoulder and all...', you trailed off at the end.

'Know you have no problem with it, but I don't want to take up all your time if you have other things planned', he responded tentatively. 'I've managed worse on my own'.

'Don't have to do it alone anymore'. You reminded him, and with that, he didn't argue.

'Pack your bags, then'.

And you'd packed your bags for a week. Although, by now, you'd stayed two, with the occasional trip back to your flat to swap out some clothes.

John's shoulder healed nicely, even if the process was arduously slow, but at least it meant his injury wasn't inflamed. God forbid you would've seen it like that. While you never counted yourself as squeamish, the first time you'd helped John rid himself of the bandages and the surgical tape that, for a seeable future, needed to be changing once a week, you also remembered that neither had you ever seen a freshly sewn-together wound.

His skin was a deep pink, and the sewn-together parts puckered and elevated from the surrounding areas. You almost shied from pulling the surgical tape the rest of the way when first laying eyes on the injury. Upon seeing the scrunch of your nose and worried glance up his face, John made you step back and do the rest, reassuring you it didn't hurt, just strained unpleasantly if he moved wrong.

While it may not have hurt while gently cleaning the wound the first time and that John now could go without the sling, it didn't mean you didn't notice the pull in his features when he did make a too-fast movement or a shift that pulled at the stitches and deeper-torn tissue. He's still instructed not to carry anything heavy, making you catch a grumble of 'a goddamn month more' as you passed by right before your name was called numerous times. 

You didn't chide him from initially thinking he would manage on his own, but you both knew what the look you sent him implied and that his thank-you kiss was a silent acknowledgement that you'd been right. It would've been anything but enjoyable for him if you hadn't spent the past two weeks with him.

Even though only two weeks had passed, you quickly noticed John wasn't a man who could go long periods without doing anything. That didn't mean he couldn't take it easy. As he said himself, he'd learned that skill. But, reading so many books while having x amounts of scotches was only as enjoyable and appropriate as it could be to not count as light alcoholism. John was itching to do something more than sit idly around or keep you company during whatever you did.

So, it wasn't a surprise the first time you found him in his study a few days ago. He'd looked up from the papers with a caught-in-the-act look when you knocked on his study's door, the excuse of work piling up that he needed to look over leaving his lips instantly. You'd never been the one so strict about working when home; your free-lancing job was practically based upon it. Therefore, you'd waved his excuse away, padding into the office you'd barely set foot inside despite the many times you'd visited him. 

You'd leant against the side of his desk, not more than casting a quick side-eyed glance on his computer to show you noted its presence but not the contents on the screen before your gaze sought his. Upon your curiosity of what it was, John indulged you in what he occupied himself with.

And just like that, John, who usually was so strict about not working when spending time with you, grew lenient on that rule of thumb, restlessness gnawing at his bones enough to slip away an hour or two each day to occupy his mind. But, you always saw him at the same times during the day, joining you on the couch in his living room or in his bedroom, hijacking the TV remote to follow the post-Christmas football matches.

You jokingly poked his side each time he did, commenting on how there were two TVs in his house if he'd forgotten. But you only got a quirk in his lip and wink in return as he proclaimed he needed to convert you into a fan, teasingly anchoring you to his side with a heavy arm if you threatened to escape. 

But you both knew you didn't mind cuddling into his side with your head on his chest, following the matches of the day, only if he started getting too worked up when his team played and jostling your head around too much.

And that settled you into a new routine. While you busied yourself around the house, occasionally working a few days here and there, John watched football and occasionally retreated to his study. Although you left him to his work, he always left his door open, showing you it was free to enter if you desired.

Today was one of those days you did your separate things, not having seen each other much since the breakfast you shared, after which John left you with a kiss and 'know where to find me'. 

It had been fine. It is fine. You'd gotten ahead of work for the new year, and John eased his workload gradually. And yet, glancing at your phone screen, you note lunch is overdue. 

Sure, today had been slow. You and John had laid in bed for a while, basking in the last of the Christmas spirit the days between Christmas Day and New Year's Eve carried. And so, breakfast had been eaten later than usual, meaning lunch was also to be pushed forward. However, at half past one, John should've emerged from his office for a well-deserved break and shared the task of cooking something.

Putting aside your book, you move from the couch and wander outside the range of the fireplace's warmth. Its fire had long since burned out, and now the only parts glowing were the embering coals. 

Your fuzzy socks act as a barrier between your feet and the cold wood beneath as you wander up the stairs. Despite the constant blast of radiators and the fireplace harbouring a non-stop fire, the floor always remains chilly when the temperature drops outside.

Much like the past days, the door to John's study stood ajar. But, compared to earlier, when you'd retrieved something from the bedroom, you didn't only pass it with a glance inside, finding John staring down at his computer with his injured arm resting in his lap as his other scrolled whatever he was going through. Now, you pushed the door open, locating him not behind his desk but seated in one of the two Chesterfield armchairs.

The edge of your mouth quirks upwards as you observe his upper body bent backwards over the low backrest, laptop resting in his lap, kept only from slipping by his hand. As you enter his peripheral vision, he glances in your direction. You offer him a warm smile as you close the distance, moving to stand behind the chair.

"How's it going?" You look down at the head tilted far enough backwards that John can watch you, albeit upside down, from where he sits. He grunts in response, eyebrows raising swiftly as he straightens. 

You chuckle, hands that previously rested on the leather sliding to rest on John's shoulders, where you immediately dig your fingers into his muscles. He groans again, but this time, his head dips forward as you follow the tight tendons near his neck.

"That much to do?" You hum as you let up on the pressure, concentrating more on his uninjured side, following the muscles out to his shoulder, only to return and follow his spine to the back of his head. 

"Not really". A harsh breath follows John's sentence when you find a knot along his neck and concentrate on easing it with your thumb. "The boys can manage, Laswell too, but whatever's possible to be pushed forward, they leave to me, meanin' things that need readin' through and cleared for the go-ahead".

"Imagine it ain't like that book I gave you", you muse, John only scoffing in return. 

"Nothin' like it", he almost grumbles. "Would much rather cosy up with you and read that than this". He flicked the screen with his finger, a semi-metallic, semi-glass tick ringing from his action.

"You know very well you can drop work and cosy up with me and that book anytime you want. You're on leave". You remind him with a small smile, knowing he isn't really complaining.

With this being your first Christmas, you'd agreed to not spend too much on presents, even if you both had bought each other spontaneous gifts before, John being the culprit for spoiling you with expensive things much more often. While he'd gifted you a necklace he'd caught you looking at, you'd gotten him a book he mentioned wanting to read and a cigar to add to his collection. One, that at the moment, remained pretty stagnant as John refrained from having a smoke the first weeks of recovery. But you knew he itched for one, catching him eyeing the container he kept them in more than once.

"Hm, 'bout that", John's head lolled backwards, his gaze locking with yours. "Come here", he cocked his head, motioning for you to move around the chair. You did as he wished while he lodged his feet beneath the furniture's edge, moving the heavy armchair slightly backwards to allow you to stand between him and the low table. 

With you now in front of him, John placed his laptop on the wide armrest, leaning forward shortly after. Concerning it being the closest, the hand of his injured arm slipped around your naked lower thigh when he sat forward, your oversized sweater ending just above his hand.  

"Said here", John nods to his lap, pressing gently at the back of your leg.

"Your shoulder, John", you lightly scold his insistence, knowing where things would go if you ended up straddling him.

"It's fine". He insisted, tugging at your leg again. This time, you relented somewhat, stepping between his spread legs, the armchair's brown leather cool against your shins.

"The doctor told you to take it easy, let it heal." You reminded him of the instructions he'd received, but now, he scoffed at them.

With his head tilted to the side and displeased crease between his brows, his hand slipped down just an inch. The sudden tug as his fingers dug into the back of your knee took you off guard. It made your leg bend, and to not fall forward, your leg caught the excess seat beside his thigh as you caught yourself on the armrest to keep yourself steady.

You send John a look, as his stunt could've easily made you brace against his shoulder rather than the furniture. But he only cranes his head slightly as you hover over his self-satisfied self, a quirk bowing his lips.

"Takin' it incredibly easy, just you who's makin' me work hard for it". There's a glint in his eyes as his hands slide upwards, massaging the back of your upper thigh from how your dress-like sweater has ridden up somewhat, sneakily trying to urge you to settle entirely on top of him. Even so, you remain hovering. 

"Missed you, love". You narrow your eyes at the change in his approach.

"Missed me or something else?"

"Both." John's answer is almost boyish in how a half grin stretches his lips and the cock of his head. You roll your eyes but can't withstand his request any longer, the butterflies in your chest never truly escaping when close to the man.

Climbing into the seat with as much grace as possible, you're mindful of his shoulder, bracing against the opposite side on the backrest to ensure you don't accidentally grip it for support. But the armchair is wide enough for your legs to comfortably slot on either side of his hips, and your hands slide to rest on his abdomen instead.

Now planted in his lap and more accessible to avoid straining his shoulder to reach for you, both of John's hands find purchase on your waist.

"That wasn't too hard, now was it?" He humours you with an arched brow as you shuffle in his lap to make yourself comfortable, only to feel something beneath you. 

"No, but something seems to be". You tilt your head, alluding to the semi you slowly felt more prominently in his sweats.

"Haven't felt my girl in nearly a month. Can you blame me?" You shake your head with a huff through your nose, gaze cast down until it returns to his.

"Thought you were confident you wouldn't cave first". 

"Never said that", John hums as he curves his back to make himself more comfortable in the armchair, making you settle more firmly over his crotch. "Although I remember you sayin' you could go the longest without a proper fuck". He dares you to deny it with a cock of his brows.

You roll your eyes but don't technically argue against him. "With how you are speaking, I could think you're growing desperate".

He clicks his tongue. "Can't guilt trip me for missin' your warm cunt".

"Jesus, John", you flush under his heavy gaze and crude words, enough for you to look to the side. 

Fingers knock beneath your chin, quickly redirecting your attention back to him. Greeting you is a pair of blue eyes twinkling in intrigue. "So what you say, wanna keep me warm while I work?"

You eye him sceptically. John had figured you liked cockwarming him, the fact nothing hard to figure when you always pulled out the process of him slipping out of you as you caught your breaths in the aftermatch of whatever session had your body trembling and his clutching yours to anchor himself. But those times often happened after, not before. 

"We're not fucking", you point at him.

"Keep still, and we won't". He chuckles at your muttered 'insufferable' as you rise to your knees.

John helps you as much as he can, stabilising you with his un-injured arm as you tug down the waistband of his sweatpants, fingers digging into the fabric of his underwear, feeling the hotness of his still not-fully erect member. He sighs as you pump his cock to bring him to full erection before pulling his length out, rubbing the tip against the fabric covering your cunt. 

A warmth, a need, you hadn't felt in the past weeks blooms in your lower stomach. 

Since his injury, you and John hadn't had sex. It might only be a few weeks, but having a mostly bare-chested, burly man like him walk around the house nearly every day because it was too tricky putting on a shirt did things to you, things which you repressed in favour of not pushing anything onto John that would strain his injury. Doctors orders.

But as you pushed your underwear to the side, how easily worked up you got whispers of a repressed desire, your slit wet without any proper foreplay, not more than the mere thought of finally feeling him inside you. Even so, you softly whine as you sink down onto him, the stretch as he entered not unfamiliar in comparison to unused to. 

A drawn-out exhale escapes John as your tightness slowly swallows him, his hands falling to lift your shirt and simultaneously massage your hips.

"Just like that, love", his words are drawled as blue eyes follow how you inch your way down, having to work up and done with rolls of your hips take him after this long. "Just relax. You always take it so well". His praise makes you flutter around him, making your and John's breaths catch.

With a last shift, your thighs finally touch his, his cock buried to the hilt.

"Fuckin' hell so warm". You glance up at John, having his head notched backwards, lips slightly parted. Calloused hands slide up the smooth skin of your sides, outlining the curve of your hip, making your shirt ride up enough to show your stomach before it slides down again as his hands smoothened down your body again.

"Didn't you say you would work? Hard to do that while coping a feel". Your breathy comment brings John's head forward again, his eyes partly lidded.

"Only need one arm for that". There's a gentle tug in the corner of his mouth as he angles his laptop towards him on the armrest.

While propping his uninjured arm along the armrest, scrolling on the mousepad as he returned to the reading you previously interrupted, John's unoccupied hand gripped your hip as he brought you closer. The slight shift makes him move inside you, and your eyes flutter shut. Shit, this would be much harder than you'd anticipated.

In hopes it would distract you, you lean forward, nose knocking against the column of his throat. You inhale his scent, concentrating on how the typical aroma of rich cigar smoke is vacant from his skin with the lack of smoking.

John's unoccupied hand travels to the small of your back, fingers alternating between massaging your muscles and tracing light patterns against your skin. 

Shivers run up and down every part of your body, unconsciously making you shimmy as the shudders reach your shoulders. Your shifting jostles him inside you, causing you to clench reactionary. John's chest heaves, indicating he definitely felt how you squeezed around him.

But he didn't say anything, not verbally, at least. He simply grabs a fistful of your asscheek until flesh spilt between his fingers. The silent scold forces you to resist rocking in his lap, only releasing a quiet whimper, burying your face deeper into the curve of his neck and shoulder.

You inhale to steady your breath. 

The shower John took in the morning made his body wash more prominent. But he still smells of a certain alluring warmth, a musk simply describable as him, the one making you nuzzle against his bare upper body. You don't know whether to curse or hail him for not wearing a shirt nowadays, his nude chest distracting you somewhat from the delicious stretch and fullness of finally having him inside you. Until you knew it definitely did not help you.

As the hair dusted over his pectorals tickled against your lower chin and his beard against the upper part of your forehead, you ran your hands up and down his abdomen and chest. 

Feeling the thick cords of muscle beneath a layer of fat that made him so deliciously big and broad clench beneath your fingers acts like a lighter to gasoline. Mental images of seeing those muscles work as he pumps himself into you fill your head.

You don't even notice how your hips begin to roll until a heavy hand clutches your side, swiftly preventing the motion.

"Be a good girl, hm?" You glance up at John, but he hasn't even angled his head to face you. His blue eyes simply remain fixed on the computer screen. Even so, you feel how the muscles in his neck flex, and a soundless chuckle shakes his chest. 

You squeeze your eyes shut, face falling to hide against his neck again, but your attempt to remain calm has already failed as your mind supplies nothing but the filthiest scenes behind your eyelids. Grunting. Pistoning hips. Flesh grasped tightly.

You force an exhale, refraining from moving with any and all willpower in your fibres as you feel his girth throb inside you. You need a distraction. You need to distract yourself from thinking about how his cock fills you so well.

You start to mouth at his skin, light presses of your lips along his collarbone, trailing only far enough to his shoulder that you didn't aggravate his injury. When you once again reach where his clavicle met his sternum, you begin trailing kisses up his neck. You hum in delight, nuzzling against John's jawline, his beard tickling the tip of your nose. You felt him sigh, his chest pressing against yours before he exhaled through his nose.

God, you pliantly move with him as he shifts in his seat, attempting to find a more comfortable position by sliding down somewhat. But you can't help but momentarily dig your fingers into his abdomen as the slight stir pushes his hips against yours, forcing him deeper inside you. The sting of your nails makes his hips jump more erratically than when he'd shuffled just seconds earlier, and you can't stop a moan as you press yourself down into his lap. The only thought left in your mind is that you desperately need to move. Now.

Rocking your hips, you gave a quivering sigh, eyes fluttering at the feeling of his blunt tip hitting something so sensitive. 

"Love", John's voice is even, hinting at nothing more than attempting to earn your attention. However, how his hand travelled from around your waist to your ass, angling your hips roughly in an arch so you were pressed, forced stationary, against his chest, spoke of something else.

When you emerge from his neck, with hands planted on his chest, his blue eyes lock with yours, and how he tilts his head causes a shiver to run down your spine.

"Said to sit still, didn't I?" A soft whine leaves your mouth, lower lip jutting out. "Only going to keep me warm, eh?" He tuts amusingly.

You huff as you catch the amusement in his voice. "You seem to like it".

"Not 'bout likin' it love, but seein' how strong that resolve of yours is", he hums, taunting words brushing over your lips

You could bare your teeth at that response, like a cat hissing at someone, even if they were petting them because they came close. John's cock was literally throbbing inside you, his hips shifting to get more comfortable, only to rock himself deeper into you, demanding, mocking you to do something about your predicament.

As if feeling your body tense, your frustration growing, the menace of a man you're perched upon decides to stoke the fire by giving you a small kiss on your lips.

"Not fair", you hiss against John. This time, his chuckle is audible.

"No one said anything about fair". You send him a deadpan look, but he only chuckles deeply again. "Now relax again, love". His hand pushes against the back of your head, bringing you to rest it against him. You don't fight him, hooking your chin near the juncture of his neck, staring at the bookshelf opposite you.

You knew you'd given a false promise when you said this wouldn't lead to anything. Called your own lie and his with your initial scepticism. But now you're too far gone, too horny after nearly a month of not properly feeling him; you let out a shuddering, displeased moan as you purposefully squirm.

Your constant shifts were too small to bring any real pleasure, erratic enough they would be written off as shifts to get comfortable if it wasn't for how you and John knew it definitely wasn't. 

You could already feel your juices dripping, coating your inner thighs and his crotch, probably soaking his trousers. The lewd picture makes your pussy throb around his length again, and you quietly mewl, brows furrowing in frustration as you glare straight forward.

As if to make matters worse, your clit caught perfectly on the rolled-together line of your underwear that pressed into you at the angle John kept you from sinking deeper onto him. The realisation is like a doomsday announcement, as now it's impossible not to notice how your bundle of nerves is throbbing. 

The ache is unbearable, especially as pleasure is within sight, the planes of John's lower stomach pressed right against your mound. With such temptation just a breath away, you wriggle your hips, stuttering a breath when pleasure rushes through your abdomen. 

You start with small movements, yet more calculated than before. But soon, your squirming evolves into grinds that never fully make you sit back on John's lap. 

You reckon that's why he doesn't stop your movements. But what catches you, pleasantly, off-guard is when you feel a slight push of his hand against your backside.

John lazily guides your hips a few times but stops suddenly as if catching himself of what he's doing when his concentration slips from his reading. 

He chastises you with a soft pinch to the skin of your hips, and you know what's coming when he grabs the nape of your neck.

"Thought you said no fuckin'?". He directs your head in front of his. John's eyes have darkened, the good kind, his chest heaving more with each breath.

"I'm a big fat liar. That's what you want to hear?" You're quick to reply, the amusement rising in his blue eyes evident as he rolls his lips between his teeth with a content quirk in their corners before he answers.

"Always a delight when you admit you're wrong".

"Yeah, yeah", you roll your eyes, heat licking up your limbs and spine until pooling in the pit of your stomach. You attempt to quell it by mimicking the same move you'd previously done, but don't get far before John's strong hand anchors you squarely in his lap. The sweet pleasure of him filling you to the brim is momentary as the action keeps you there, fixed.

"Never said I would fuck you. I'm quite satisfied with this arrangement". John Price may be a humble man, but sometimes his cockiness soared when having you at his mercy.

"Piss off".

"Goin' to remain right here", he flashed you a devilish smile before returning to work. 

His blatant disregard makes your mouth fall open as you stare at him. 

You know John saw your reaction from the corner of his eyes, but he was adamant about not acknowledging you. You clench your jaw, sending him a nasty look. 

If that's how he wants to play.

With the single coherent thought that you would get your release, no longer desiring to play into the torture John was putting you through, you decide to make him cave right along with you.

With one hand stabilising yourself on his chest, your other hand slide down beneath your sweater. Your mouth falls open when your fingers brush your clit, faintly feeling how he stretches you open, unabashed moan clawing up your throat and out of your mouth. 

Oh, you saw the twitch of his head and felt his fingers dig into your waist. You knew how much he desired to look at you but remained stubborn enough not to indulge himself.

What must be a delirious-looking smile spread on your face as your mouth remains open, releasing all the soft breaths and whiney moans you'd muffled earlier. He's still keeping a steely grip on your lower half, keeping you from rocking your hips, but you make do with what he can't control. 

You bend forward at the waist, head falling alongside his until you face his throat.

Whereas your previous kisses had been light, worshipping, now they were shy of foul. You don't leave more than a few open-mouthed kisses along his neck as a heads-up before you trace your tongue over the same spots you journey.

You never stop the slow circles over your clit, your heavy breaths fanning over the wet trail you paint against his skin. And with your pleasured sounds so close to his ear, your lips marking him up without abandon as no one but you will be able to see the light marks, a deep groan fills the air.

Silencing your satisfaction that you're slowly tearing his resolve, you release a low whine straight into his ear instead. "John-". 

His facade cracks again, head tilting backwards, and you know he's fighting demons to not give in to your pleasure. But you show him no remorse, chuckling breathlessly over the shell of his ear before nipping his earlobe. 

Laving over the sweet little spot on his neck, right at the angle where his beard fades and beneath his ear, another grunt fills the air as his other hand abandons the computer and shifts to grab you.

With both of his hands now on your hips, you take your unoccupied hand and drag it down his chest, the wiry hair tickling you as your nails catch his nipple. You paw at his chest as you push your mouth into the shell of his ear, shakily uttering, "Going fill me up, John?"

"Jesus-". His gravelly voice, how he gropes and grabs at your soft love handles, hints at the restrained pleasure leaking through the cracks you're creating. It eggs you on, quickening the fingers rubbing your clit as you try to see if he'll let you rock your hips.

Although he clutches your flesh when you start to roll your hips over his thick cock, he doesn't stop you, hands remaining dormant on your ass. And, since you don't get any resistance from John this time, you don't stop.

You flutter around him, your peak moving a lot closer when you sit straight, looking down at the man who showers you with his attention as you rise on your knees in tandem with the rocking of your hips. And that seems to break the last straw of his willpower. 

You thank the heavens when he hastily moves to close his laptop and slides it a bit too aimlessly into the armchair beside the one you're occupying. The amusement in his eyes quickly faded to offer more place for surging arousal.

His uninjured arm rises to settle his hand at the back of your head, tugging you into a kiss as his other hand paces itself as he lowers it, swatting away your hand to overtake the onslaught on your bundle of nerves. As his thumbs find and rub firm circles onto your clit, you moan into his mouth.

John leans away to look at you, watching your features contort in pleasure as your cunt throbs around him. A lazy smirk on his face tells you he has no desire to drag out your or his pleasure any longer. 

He starts moving his hips, meeting each of your falls into his lap, pressing him deeper into you than what you'd managed on your own. John sounded fucking heavenly as a fucked up into you, groans and grunts slipping past his teeth, even if he let you do most of the work, taking it easy with his shoulder. 

"Fuckin' hell, that's my girl". He jerks inside you upon picking up the wet sounds squelching each time the back of your thighs meet his. "Takin' my cock so well after all this time, s'good for me, fuck- missed you havin' you around me". John's head drops backwards just as his hand falls to give your hips a firm squeeze, helping you guide your hips. You whine, clenching around him, slumping against him even if your hands get trapped between your chests.

He feels so good inside you, girthy length stretching you so deliciously, every ridge and vein rubbing against your walls. You pant against his skin, teeth closing on the tendons in his neck, not biting, but the pleasure just feels so good that you barely know what to do with yourself.

"Feisty today, eh?" John's jab is breathless, rasped from the back of his throat. "Hm, get so needy when you don't get my cock".

"John- fuck", your eyes squeeze tightly shut as your sensitivity is upped, orgasm nearing, the digit playing with your clit making you keen. "Feels so good, you feel so good... shit, missed this", you blabber. He groans at your admission, planting his heels more firmly to get more power behind his thrusts.

An involuntary squeak leaves you as the added force makes you slide forward a bit, your arm swinging around his neck on his uninjured side. It's nowhere near as fierce as John otherwise can shove himself deep inside of you, but after this long, he doesn't need to.

One final thrust sends you over the edge, body quivering, thighs squeezing his waist. Your moan breaks into heaving breaths, hips stilling in their up-and-down movement. John's not far behind, manually grinding your hips back and forth before he rolls his hips upwards, praises falling in groans from his lips as he spills inside you.

"Best believe you're not going back to working after this", you sigh into John's neck, having caught your breath just as he slackens beneath you.

He gives you a shakey laugh yet to level his own breathing. "No thought 'bout it", his voice is throaty as his arms curl around your waist.

[legendsgalore]

Courage in the Night

Late at night, you ponder over your position in the Chain, and Wild notices.

You aren't thinking much as you stand there, watching as Wild's form gets smaller and smaller while he ascends the rock face in front of you. In fact, no one is saying anything, in the face of the absolute absurdity that is the Champion's climbing skills.

You all had been wandering in a dense forest, the overlapping of the branches blocking out almost all the sunlight, so that it was impossible to tell what time it was. The ten of you were unable to do anything but continue down a dirt path that was just barely distinguishable from the foliage next to it, clearly it hadn't been touched in a long time. Hyrule and Wild had attempted to wander off the path, citing that it was “too boring,” but had been wrangled back onto the dirt trail before they could get out of sight. 

Conversation wasn't flowing, the heroes too focused on attempting to find some familiar landmarks, but the silence wasn't uncomfortable. That's the thing about these solo-traveler types, you supposed, they understood the value of silence.

 As you mused upon that, you almost bumped into Warriors’ back, who had stopped walking. And by almost, you mean you smashed your nose into the solid wall of muscle that was his back.

“Ah, whoops.” You garbled out, holding your smarting sniffer.

The scarf-wearing hero glanced over his shoulder at you, raising one eyebrow and smirking, then directed his gaze ahead and said.

“Look.” And strode off to join those at the front of the group.

While he did that, you looked up and felt your eyes widen. Seemingly out of nowhere in this dense, endless forest a giant cliff blocked your path. Literally, the dirt path you all had been following led right up to the base of the rock. Looking, you could see that the geological feature stretched as far as you could see in either direction.

“What the heck?” You said, unable to really think anything else.

It almost felt like the cliff had been placed there on purpose, which was an absolutely ridiculous thought. Your enemy had some crazy powers, but terraforming was (most) likely not one of them.

Glancing at the others, you saw Hyrule poking at some flora at the base of a tree, you could tell he was about five minutes from just wandering away himself, uninterested in the debate over directions going on. 

Wild and Wind seemed to be discussing something, the sailor's arms gesturing wildly, and the cook nodding frequently, his hand grasping his chin and he looked to be considering what Wind was saying with much thought.  Sky was further ahead, just looking at the cliff face with an impressed expression adorning his face. Four was wandering off to the right, following the cliff face. And a few more paces beyond Sky were the rest of the heroes, deep in discussion over what to do next.

You walked forward to join them and caught the tail end of whatever Legend was snarling, his hands flying into the air in exasperation.

“-the fuck else are we supposed to do? We are wandering without a map, as usual, and have come to a split path, it's not that hard we just need to pick a direction and go!”

Warriors rolled his eyes and points his finger at Legend, shifting his weight, “We shouldn't just pick at random, we need to consider our choices here.”

Twilight hums and says “We have three options here, we can turn around and retrace our steps-”

“Fuck no.”

Twilight huffs, “-or we can go right, or left.”

Legend retorts, “Exactly! It's not like these are complicated choices, we just need to pick one and I don't even know why we are having this discussion in the first place!”

The captain sighs, “It's because we don't know where we are that we need to consider this. We know we don't want to just wander aimlessly, so the goal is to pool together our information and decide what path will benefit the group the most.”

“But we don't have any information here! “ Legend cries out. “This is what I am saying! Why waste time having each one of us go ‘I dunno where we are’ when we can just flip a coin and heads go right and tails go left! It's not like we could climb the cliff to survey our surroundings.”

Looking disgruntled, Warriors opens his mouth to say something that likely would just keep leading the conversation in circles, but Legend had said the magic words and they are all interrupted by Wild jumping from behind him and clapping his hands on the captain's shoulders.

“Did you say we needed to climb that cliff face?”

And that is how you all found yourself watching, as Wild throws himself up the cliff face with reckless abandon. He had changed into what you recognized as his Climbing outfit, the harness and the few clips on it jingling with his movements, though the sound was inaudible by this point, him being too high. You found yourself almost jealous of how much contact strength the scarred hero had, able to jump repeatedly, achieving an impressive height each time, and easily catching himself. 

From experience, you knew firsthand, how sharp untouched rock was, and secondly, how confusing it can sometimes be to figure out what is a good handhold or not.

As you mused about the climbing skills of the hero, you heard Twilight mutter,

“At least he has some safety gear.”

You look at his furrowed brow, and ask “What do you mean?”

His gaze not leaving Wild, Twilight explains, “At least when Wild is climbing, he has that harness and other gear to help him be slightly safer.”

You pause, “Uh, he isn't using it?”

Twilight, and you notice the others too, look at you. 

Warriors, expression pinched, asks, “What do you mean he isn't using it?”

Your head tilts to one side as you respond, “Well, he may be wearing a harness and he has a few clips, but Wild isn't using them at all. I mean he doesn't even have a rope, and for him to use the rope he would need a second person to belay him and…”

You trail off as you watch the Chain's expressions morph into varying stages of grief.

Laughing nervously you ask, “Did, did none of you even consider he would need a rope or something?”

Legend cries out, “Well it's not like I have seen gear like that before! I assumed he was putting it on for some reason at least!”

Twilight looks like he is about to hurl, “Does this mean Wild is climbing without any safety equipment?”

Looking into the ranchers eyes, which are begging desperately for you to say otherwise, you swallow and hesitantly say,

“Uh, yes..?”

You watch as the Hero of Twilight's eyes shutter close, him breathing a deep sigh. Time wordlessly pats his descendant's back as everyone turns back to watch the tiny speck that is Wild, continue up the cliff.

After a few more minutes, Wind speaks out, “So why is he wearing the harness then?”

______________________________________________________________________

Eventually Wild makes it to the top, and you all get to watch Twilight nearly give himself an aneurysm as the Hero of the Wilds jumps off the top, catching himself with his Hanglider at the very last moment, the *whoosh* noise louder than you anticipated, startling you, though the others were used to it and hardly reacted.

The climbing menace lands in front of you, grins, holding up his Sheikah slate and just says, “I took some pictures, but it looks like there is a town to our West!”

______________________________________________________________________________

After the appropriate amount of scolding (“You had no safety gear this whole time!?”) everyone was ready to head in the direction Wild pointed them towards. 

The sun was high in the sky, but it was kind today, his rays were kindly warming your back, and seemed to bring the forest to life. Birds were chirping all around, and through the trees you could catch glimpses of dragonflies flittering about, and other fauna hopping in the foliage.

One particular critter caught your eye, just what appeared to be a squirrel climbing the trunk of a tree, but the simple cuteness of it was lovely. 

You didn’t realize you had stopped walking until you felt a poke in your side, it was Four, giving you a smirk and an eyebrow raised.

“Did you forget how to walk?”

You laugh, rolling your eyes, “No sorry, I just know how to appreciate nature, unlike SOME shorties around here.”

“Please,” Four scoffs. “You’re not one to talk. I don’t think you are even taller than Hyrule!”

Gasping theatrically, you put your hand to your chest and stagger as if you had been wounded.

“How could you Four! I thought we were friends! Why would you call me out for my disability!?”

He laughs, his violet eyes glimmering in the sunshine.

“Please, if you have a disability, what do I have?”

You pause, making a show out of putting your chin to your hand. 

You tilt your head, slyly smirking at Four. 

“I think you just didn’t eat enough vegetables growing up.”

Four opens his mouth, mirth in his eyes, surely ready to deliver a scathing retort, but before he can say anything a bark of laughter interrupts the both of you. You had caught up with the group by this point, and Legend was holding his hand to his mouth trying to hold in his laughter, the culprit.

Your eyes find Four’s, and you both take a moment to look at each other, before bursting into laughter as well. It’s a minute or two before you can calm down, but all the Links are wearing smiles, and the atmosphere itself feels giggly.

Legend calls your name, and you turn to see his curious expression.

“So, you recognized Wild’s gear, or lack of it earlier, yeah?”

You nod, unsure of where this line of questioning would go.

The veteran raises an inquisitive eyebrow and asks, “So does this mean you are familiar with climbing gear like that?”

“Oh!” You hadn’t prepared for that question, though you supposed it should have been obvious that it was going to be asked.

“Yeah actually, back, uh, home, I used to climb a lot! It’s a big thing there, the sport of rock climbing. Like a whole established *thing*.”

 You punctuate the last word with air quotes, and Legend nods, humming his understanding.

Most of the Links are paying attention to your words, you see the side eyes from those who hadn’t simply just turned to look. 

Wind aws and excitedly asks, “Wait does that mean you climb like Wild does!?”

“Ha ha ha, NO.” You say, but as the sailor’s shoulders droop, you add, “But! I do climb rocks, and super high too! I just use the proper gear for it.”

“So you’re saying if you had the right gear, you could climb?” You’re not sure you like the glint in Legend’s eye as he says this.

“Yes?” You say, unable to deny that, you’re almost surprised it’s the veteran who is pushing this idea out there. You would have thought this to be something he would scoff at and dismiss.

Legend’s smirk widens, but it’s Wind who asks, “What are you missing?”

The kid looks so excited, perhaps at the idea of doing more risky things like Wild, but in a way that the others (namely Time and Warriors) would allow him to do (not that they can really stop the pirate from doing what he wants, but he respects what they say).

So you relent, and  start telling Wind and Legend, and the others, about the modern version of rock climbing. You tell him how there is more than one style, and that the sport is based more in technique than raw strength and instinct. 

You can tell the others are interested; Twilight’s ears twitch as you describe the short, powerful style of bouldering, and you can tell that the others are intrigued in the long process of rope climbing, that it involves planning and finesse so that you can maintain your stamina the whole route. Wild himself looks interested but appalled at the idea of so much equipment being necessary for what he just does naturally.

“And so really, I am familiar with all styles of climbing, though I will say I am more fond of traditional lead climbing outdoors.” You finish, looking at Wind.

The sailor’s eyes look a little glazed over, but he still seems excited. 

“That’s so cool that people from your time developed a whole sport around this! And that everyone does this, and knows all this, and that this is just common knowledge!”

Legend has his hands behind his head, mouth pulled to one side as he listens.

 He pensively asks,

“Do they?”

You fiddle with a piece of your hair, “I don’t know about everyone, sure I loved…love the sport, but there are dozens of other sports that are more popular for sure.”

“Still, “ Warriors starts, giving you a glance over his shoulder, his pretty boy smile dazzling in the sunlight. 

“It’s nice to hear more about your life back home. I feel that we don’t get to hear many details.”

Legend adds, “Yeah, you’re so secretive about it, always asking us to tell stories instead.”

You blush, and Warriors sends you a knowing smile, contrasting Legend’s sarcasm, and turns back to face forward, leaving you feeling like you said too much, or something wrong.

“So what is Wild missing anyways?” Wind cuts in before your thoughts can get too panicky, and you perk up.

“Oh well actually most of what he needs?”

“You’re kidding!”

Legend scoffs, “Of course the wild child would be.” And you elbow him, which he returns with another smirk, though this one lacks much bite. You’re not sure he can smile regularly, only smirks.

“I am certainly not,” you laugh, “First of all, he doesn’t have a rope? And since nothing is bolted here he would need some specific types of gear called cams, or nuts-”

Legend snickers, and you give him a glare, before continuing.

“Shut up that’s what you would put in the cracks in the rock so that you could climb any face of rock.”

Wind frowns, “Wait what if there aren’t cracks?”

You smile. “Well then you need other gear, but that would become a much different thing than just simply climbing any rock face, which I think our dear Wild wouldn’t care for.”

“Continuing on, after that stuff, you would also need something called carabiners to actually clip yourself into the gears, as well as a second person to do something called belaying for you, they are the one that catches you when you fall.”

The wild man himself, who hadn’t said anything up to this point, slows down and joins you, Wind, and Legend.

You tilt your head inquisitively, and he looks sheepish as he pulls up his Sheikah Slate.

“You’re telling me there was a point to all this?”

And with that, and a blue flash from the slate, a rope, a second harness, and about twenty nuts and carabiners appear in the champion’s hands.

Your mouth drops, and you look up at him. The rest of the group had stopped, and everyone was staring at Wild.

Twilight staggers, putting a hand to his forehead as if he was harvesting a headache.

“You’re telling me, this WHOLE time, you had the necessary gear to be safe?”

Wild shrugs, still looking sheepish, “I guess so? I found this in the chest with the pants of this set, but I didn’t know what it was for. The clothes themselves give me a buff, so I assumed that was that and ignored the other stuff.”

“You just ignored it-Oh my Faron!”

You laugh, and Wild smiles at you. 

He thrusts the equipment towards you and says, “Well then, would you mind showing me how to use this?”?

You look at the rope and nuts and swallow harshly, realizing the responsibility that had been thrust upon you.

Now it was Legend’s turn to laugh at you.

______________________________________________________________________________

How did you get here.

Was all you could think as you stared up at the rock face in front of you.

It’s not like there wasn’t rock for you to climb, so you couldn’t use the excuse of not being in the right location to get out of this. Even if the face wasn’t peppered with enough cracks for the gear, you could just move a little bit further down one side to find something good enough.

You checked your knot on your harness again, borrowed from Wild, and looked back to the champion himself, clad in the other harness and belay device, that somehow he also had stored in the slate. It seemed that when the Ancient people stored the Climbing Set away, they didn’t forget proper climbing gear and provided the right stuff for a belay setup.

Hence, your current situation. You heard the gear on your gear-loops clang as you shifted weight. No matter how many times you do this, you still feel cool with all of the stuff on your harness. So official, like you had serious business that needed all of this random stuff. As if you weren’t just climbing rocks.

Speaking of which, you look past Wild to see the whole Chain watching you, differing in excitement.

Time could almost be mistaken for neutral, except for the slight quirk in his smile that revealed his amusement. Twilight looked like he was one step away from calling this all off, but clearly the need for Wild to know how to safely climb was overpowering it. Warriors did not have that same motivation, and it was purely his being outnumbered that kept him from further protesting, though he already had done plenty of that.

 Hyrule and Sky were cheering you on, the former ready to heal, and the latter having lended you his sailcloth for the occasion, surprising you by being relatively okay with this all. You supposed that being raised in a culture where you constantly jump off an island in the clouds, trusting that you will be caught by another lends itself well to being understanding of the dangers of rock climbing.

 Legend was still looking at you with a smirky smile, but you noticed that it didn’t stretch all the way across his face, and that he had his hand in his bag, presumably ready to grab an item in case something went wrong. 

Four had his hands on one of the nuts  (not like you were going to climb high enough to need them all) and was more focused on that. He had been intrigued when you mentioned how the gear was crafted to handle such intense forces, and you planned to talk to him more about it later.

Lastly, Wind looked like he was ready to just hop on the rock wall himself, bouncing in excitement, and you could already see that you were going to be pestered about teaching him how to climb in the future.

But that was the future, this was now, and you couldn’t really back out of climbing this random cliff now.

Breathing in, you look at Wild. He was your belayer, though inexperienced he had listened with an intensity as you explained the process, though if you had your choice you would never have a beginner belay you like this, and called out to him.

“Ready?”

“Climb on!”

You reach up to the rock, your hands grasping a small ridge, and pull yourself from the safety of the grassy ground. Bringing up your feet to a stable place, you extend your hand again, feeling around for a good hold. You repeat this, and before long find yourself lost in the motion of it all.

It was kinda relaxing, this was why you had fallen in love with climbing in the first place. Really it was you, your skills, your tenacity, and ability to keep pushing despite everything. Rock climbing wasn’t like anything else in the modern age you felt. It was much more raw, purely about how far you could push yourself as a human being, as a creature, and so personal.

As you struggled to clip into the nut you placed, Wild’s rope management obviously not being superb, you realized how much this made you miss your previous life.

It hadn’t been too long since joining the Chain, but time was hard to keep track as you traveled through portals, and all the days blended together, being much of the same really.

You missed your friends, who you would climb with all the time. And the simple pleasure in finishing work and going to blow off steam by climbing as hard as you could. Or the excitement of squeezing in a session before work even. 

Your life wasn’t exciting by any means, but that didn’t mean it was bad. It was the simple things in life that made it worth living, all the little things that added up that made each day satisfying.

It was these musings that distracted you, for as you reached up to feel for the next hold on autopilot, you failed to recognize the crumbling foothold that you were standing tip-toed upon.

Too late, you felt your foot slide, before you plummeted into the air as the rock crumpled completely.

Your stomach lurched, but you were assured in the knowledge that the nuts would catch you.

That was until a massive *SNAP* pierced your ears, and you would have noted how painful that was except you were busy with the horror of watching two nuts literally break in front of your eyes as the force of gravity fell upon you.

You couldn’t help the scream that leapt from your throat as you fell way too far. For a moment you were confident this was it, and then your whole body lurched harshly as finally. one of the nuts stayed, and Wild did his duty of catching you.

It was a hard catch, but you were just grateful to be caught at all to care that it hurt.

Various shouts of panic were audible, but all you could focus on was your own heartbeat pounding away as the reality of what happened settled in.

 You flop back in your harness, unable to do much else, and look down at Wild. You couldn’t have been more than thirty feet in the air, but that meant you had just fallen maybe ten more feet.

“Lower me!” You called out, your voice high pitched.

“Lowering!” Was the answering call, and you panicked a bit as you dropped quickly, but Wild found his pace and you descended much more slower, to your relief. You pulled out the nuts as you went, and no other complications occurred.

Once you hit the ground, you found yourself surrounded by the Chain, all clamoring about your well being.

Feeling a little awkward, you laughed and tried to wave them off.

“I’m fine, I just got startled! I was safe, see?”

Warriors frowned, “That did not look like ‘safe’ to me.”

You shrugged, not sure if you could dispute that, “Well, besides the ones that broke, the rest of the equipment did what it was supposed to.”

Though you were speaking calmly, your heartbeat was still racing, and you were sure you were going to have a nightmare or two about falling in the future.

You brush off Hyrule’s hands, searching for any injuries and hand Sky back his sailcloth. 

The Chosen Hero says his thanks and then says, “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Thanks Sky.” Is what you respond, unsure what else to even say.

Wind chimes in, “Yeah, that was kinda scary!” His excitement seems to have dulled thanks to your fall, and he is staring at you wide-eyed.

Trying to reassure the boy, you pat his head, though the two of you were about the same height. 

“Aww, don’t worry about me, that was fine!”

Wind frowns further, and you try to think of something else to say but then Legend walks up to the two of you.

“But you screamed like a little baby.”  Legend’s snark is lacking the usual bite as he stares at you pensively, leaning into your personal space.

You lean back, putting your hands up defensively, “Yeah, just cause I was startled by the gear breaking, that’s kind of unusual if you couldn’t tell!”

Legend purses his lips together, but just then Wild walks up to your side , having collected his gear and stored it in the slate. He was wearing a frown.

“I’m sorry that the gear failed, I guess it was too old.”

You tilted your head to the side. “That’s okay, not like you knew any better.”

“Still, I should have anticipated that the Monks couldn’t keep everything in peak condition..”

“Which wasn’t your responsibility,” you retort. “Those were left to you in the Shrines to be used, it should not have been your job as well to make sure they were exactly as they should have been.”

Wild frowns, still looking guilty, face hidden by his hair as he tilts his head forward, and you sigh, walking forward and placing a hand on his shoulder. He lifts his head just enough that you can see the emotions swirling in his blue eyes.

You cross your arms, unwilling to let the Hero of the Wilds feel guilty for this.

“Wild, I had fun, despite the fall. I yelped because I was startled, but nothing bad happened okay? Don’t beat yourself up about this. It was…nice, to get to climb once more.”

You smile to yourself, remembering the nostalgia of getting to exercise your climbing muscles after so long, and that finally seemed to help Wild get himself together. For he stood up straight, and gave you a nod before handing you an apple from his slate.

“Alright, well I think it’s time we continue onwards, shall we?” Ever the leader, Time corralled all the emotions and concerns and directed them to continue towards their original goal, and all the unspoken questions died down, or were stowed away for later as the Chain turned to follow the champion.

And with that you left the rock behind and continued on through the forest.

______________________________________________________________________________

The blanket of night had washed over the land, though the creatures in the woods were still very much awake. The chirping of grasshoppers was a soothing background to your thoughts, and the rustling of leaves in the trees kept you from being lost in them. 

The humid night air weighed down on you, but it wasn’t overwhelming, just a constant presence, reflective of the kind sunshine from earlier.

The tree you had climbed into wasn’t very tall, but the branches were unusually wide so you felt comfortable hanging up here while everyone else fell asleep. You knew you weren’t going to follow them anytime soon, and you didn’t want your constant turning and tossing to wake anyone up.

Most of the Chain was asleep by now, and if they weren’t already, they were going to be soon. Really, you should be too, but after today you felt you needed some semblance of solitude, as much as you could get in this situation. 

Perhaps the others recognized this need, and everyone gave you space throughout setup and dinner, and no one questioned your tree climbing, though you saw Twilight give you a narrow-eyed look, as if he wanted to protest even more climbing, but Time had clapped a hand on his protege’s shoulder and all but dragged him away. You were thankful the old man always somehow knew when people needed a moment.

Really, you weren’t sure how to explain why you were in a mood to the others, nothing had truly happened, nothing traumatic, just, you supposed you were feeling melancholic for your previous life. 

One could even say, you were feeling sorry for yourself. But, that was a pathetic emotion that is a waste of your time. No point whining about the situation you are in, no matter how hard it is. All you can do is do your best in the moment, and nothing less.

A loud rustle in your tree startled you, almost causing you to slip off, and you grabbed the branch you were sitting on to stabilize yourself. Looking around for the offending critter, you instead see Wild ascending your tree.

Before you have time to think, he has settled himself on your branch. 

He looks at you and smiles sheepishly, “Hey, mind if I join you?”

Blinking twice, you nod and say “Yeah.”

Wild’s smile drops immediately, and you panic.

“Wait no I meant yeah you can join me so I guess I meant no, as in no I don’t mind please hang out on my tree branch welcome to my humble home.”

The two of you stare at each other, and then you both start laughing, trying not to wake the others, which of course just makes it funnier and harder to stop laughing.

Once you manage your giggling to a reasonable level, you ask Wild, “So what brings you up here?”

Shrugging, he looks up into the sky, “Trees are nice.”

You had honestly expected him to say something along the lines of “you seemed lonely,” or some more concerns about earlier, and so you’re unsure of how to respond to that, so you turn your gaze to the sky as well.

It’s full of stars, so many that it feels impossible that the sky isn’t a painting. How could that many colors have existed in the sky that you never saw before?

You say to Wild, “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to seeing this many stars every night.”

He asks in confusion, “Do you not have stars in the future?”

Laughing softly, you say “No, no we do. But there is so much light pollution from cities that most nights, you are lucky to see a handful of them.” 

Gesturing around, you continue, “If you want to see more stars, you have to travel far, far, away from other people.”

Wild frowns, the expression pulling his facial scars in a way that almost exaggerates the expression. 

“That’s kinda sad.”

You nod, “Yeah.”

Another moment passes in silence, the two of you just enjoying the atmosphere. 

“How are you not afraid?” Wild asks quickly, as if he was afraid the question was somehow offensive, or taboo.

Turning you gawk at him, “Huh?”

You’re sure if there was more light, you would be able to see hints of red creeping down the champion’s pointy ears. His expression has become sheepish once more, not meeting your eyes, and you realize this may be why he climbed the tree to talk to you in the first place.

He doesn’t elaborate after a moment, so you nudge him, “What do you mean, not afraid?”

He looks back at you, considering his words, and then gestures with his hand to the sight in front of the two of you.

“I mean, all of this. It’s like you said, even seeing this many stars is unusual for you! You’re in such a strange situation, so far out of your comfort zone, with no way out. “

You stay looking at him, though his gaze is focused on the others sleeping below you.

He continues, “I mean, even earlier today, you climbed, and showed us all how to do it, with no hesitation! Even when you fell, you just laughed it off and said ‘no worries!’ Or in fights, you have almost no training, but you are still holding your own and not running away, able to follow all directions well. How are you not afraid and falling apart?”

Finally he directs his gaze back at you, searching your face for an answer. 

You realize that Wild isn’t just asking you how you’re not afraid, he is asking how you are succeeding in this situation. Based on his journey, it wouldn’t be a leap to guess that he is asking how you are excelling when he himself has panicked every step of the way.

You shake your head, it wasn’t a fair question, these weren’t even comparable situations. 

But, Wild was still waiting for an answer so you just tell him the truth;

“Wild I am scared.”

He tilts his head slightly in confusion, and you elaborate.

“I am always terrified. I am so afraid, I just don’t show it. I was afraid earlier, even when that was something I was familiar with, and I am definitely afraid in all of the fights, for the exact reasons you said.”

Wild’s eyebrows are furrowed together as he looks at you, his lips pursed together as he rests his head on one hand and asks, “So how do you keep going then?”

You shrug, slightly baffled by the question, “What else would I do?”

Musing over a bit, Wild eventually just responds, “Uh…”

“Exactly.” You point at the others, still sleeping peacefully. “What else would I do? Panic, and not do anything? That wouldn’t accomplish anything, besides making me a bigger burden on everyone else.”

Wild nods, “That’s true.”

You smile, appreciating that he wasn’t bothering to sugar coat your burdensome-status. 

“Plus, I am lucky to even have you all here in the first place. I’m sure if I was all alone, on a journey to defeat some great evil, it would be a different story. I could not claim in confidence that I wouldn’t just have a mental breakdown and die to some stupid enemy halfway through.”

Wild laughs at that, the noise having escaped his throat, almost as much of a notion to dispel his nerves as a response to your joke, it rings in the night, and he frantically covers his mouth and you both look down at the sleeping men underneath.

You both are quiet for a minute, but after no noticeable stirring from the sleeping heroes you grin at each other.

“Also,” you say, nudging Wild. “I have all of my memories still, so that helps.��

The joke is a hit with Wild, his whole face lighting up as he struggles not to laugh again. He almost succeeds, but a snort sneaks out, causing you both to fall into giggles for the next few minutes. Everytime you make eye contact sending you into giggles again.

Eventually you just fix your gaze on the sky, Wild following in suit, the slight breeze rustling the trees welcome in the humid night. Breathing in deeply, you relish in the feeling of your lungs filling up all the way, and breathe out fully.

You look at Wild, who is peacefully looking into the sky, his body language relaxed, and a soft smile adorning his face. It makes him look, somehow, more present? As if he isn’t some mystical figure from a legend, or a far-off character. It places him right here in this moment with you, as just another person, and that hits you right in your chest, and you breathe in deeply, trying to breathe out some of the intensity.

You look at the scar on his face, and muse about how things have ended up for this hero. It was truly a tragedy what happened to him, but you think he may be happier for it. Free from all the expectations placed on his shoulders, free from those politics, free from his duty to Zelda placed on him by the King, she too was free to pursue her passions, which likely was happier for both of them. 

A hard thing to say, that they are happier than they could have been, but looking at the Wild in front of you, it really is impressive that despite everything, he still finds beauty in the world, still is able to just be another person, that despite everything, he’s just him.

“Hey,” you say to get Wild’s attention. 

He looks at you inquisitive, nothing demanding about his presence, just content to be there in the moment with you. The absolute trust the scarred hero giving you doing nothing to help the pangs of your heart.

 Still, you try to match the honor by giving some trust to Wild in return.

“Like I said, I am always afraid. Not just now, but before. I am afraid of everything, really. Afraid of failing, failing school, losing my job, afraid I will never be good enough at climbing, of having to give up on everything I worked so hard to get, afraid of losing all my relationships, afraid that my personality isn’t enough to keep people around me, afraid that even if I do everything right, factors outside of my control will ruin my life, afraid I will die disappointed in myself.”

You swallow, and say one last thing, not looking at Wild, “Afraid I will never be enough.”

Wild frowns and starts to say something, but you shake your head and interrupt him.

“That’s why I have to try so hard, you see? I don’t show my fear here, because it’s not a new feeling, just a different situation, so why panic about it?”

You look up at the sky, finding strength in the galaxies stretched across it. 

“I decided that I could do two things in the face of all my fear. I could give up, or try so hard I can be confident that if things fail, it wasn’t because of me.”

Turning to meet Wild’s gaze, his expression piercing into you, those blue eyes unwavering in the dark, almost reflective, like a cat, or a wolf.

“Because sometimes things are out of your control. And all you can do is keep going no matter what. And that’s really lame, but so am I.”

That last part caught Wild by surprise, and he did a little snort-laugh. He is still looking at you, his blue eyes reflecting the stars.

He opens his mouth, and closes it without saying anything.

You look away, staring at Legend’s sleeping form, he was the closest to you two. He rolls over in his sleep, facing the two of you, and you stare at his sharp features, at how different his ears look to your own. You wonder if Hylians can hear better because of their ears.

You are a little embarrassed by your speech. Not that it wasn’t true, but you got a little carried away, especially with that last part, not that you said anything directly about the Calamity to Wild, but clearly it was pertinent to his journey, anyone could guess that survivor’s guilt would be a thing in this situation.

You breathe in deeply, but before you can say something to backtrack, you feel a strong hand touch your cheek, turning your head to face the hero sitting next to you. You could feel the rough texture created by the scars and calluses, but the gesture was so gentle that if you didn’t allow it, it wouldn’t have moved your face.

Your heart skips a beat as you stare at the Hero of the Wilds. His blue eyes almost appeared as if they were glowing in the dark, with the light of the stars. They are staring at you, searching for something. You swallow, resisting the urge to lick your dry lips.

Wild moves his hand to your shoulder, and gives you a light shake, and smiles softly at you.

“That’s incredible then. If you’re that afraid, but you still try so hard.” He looks down to the group, his gaze landing on Time sleeping, Twilight’s bedroll not too far away from him.

“I have been told that being afraid is a good sign, that it means you can recognize you have something to lose. And that-” He grips your shoulder a little tighter. “-continuing despite your overwhelming fear, is the true mark of courage.”

He smiles at you, wide and full of feeling. You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. It’s not a pretty smile, it’s the one where you can’t help the emotions bubbling up in your chest and it just lifts your face into a squinty-eyed, squishy mess because you are smiling so hard.

You grasp the hand on your shoulder, and give it a squeeze.  “Thank you Wild.”

You wanted to say more, but couldn’t, and just hoped those three words could convey enough. Based on Wild’s smile somehow widening further, his hair moving with the effort, you could guess it did.

Squeezing Wild’s hand once more, you let your own drop to the branch you were sitting on, casting your gaze once again, to the night sky, dappled with stars. Wild dropped his hand and looked to the sky too. 

They twinkled down on the two of you, the sweet, refreshing smell of summer petrichor enriching the air. 

Breathing deeply once more, on the exhale you said to Wild.

“I think I may go to bed now, I am quite tired.”

He agreed, “Yeah, the moon is high in the sky too, so if we want enough sleep we should go now.”

You get ready to climb down, but pause, Wild looking at you. Without thinking any further, you lunge forward, wrapping the Hero of the Wilds in a tight hug, the force almost knocking the two of you off it if it weren't for him stabilizing you both.

He smelled like the campfire and sweat and dirt and was the right size for you to wrap your arms all the way around, and him you. You squeezed tightly, your face pressing into his chest, the Champion’s Tunic soft against your cheek.

Maybe in the morning you would be embarrassed, but right now it just felt right, and though he stiffened in shock at first, you felt the champion relax into the hug. 

Releasing him, you lean back, and give Wild a nod, which he returns, and you finally head down the tree.  Your feet safely on the ground you look up, and see the champion’s face poke out and a wave of his hand before he disappears into the leaves. Presumably to sleep up there.

You pick your way across the campsite to your bedroll, between Twilight and Wind, but you almost trip over the Hero of Legends. He rolled over in his bedroll, grumbling a little, and his breathing seemed to still for a moment.. You pause, listening, afraid you just woke up the grumpy veteran, but after a moment you deem it safe to continue and you finally lay down in your bedroll.

Curling up on your side, you muse on Wild’s words. 

Courageous, huh…?

[averageanonymous]

Summary: Aziraphale is gone, but Crowley finds himself back at the Bookshop

☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

Even after Aziraphale returns to Heaven, Crowley still visits the bookshop. He blames the Bentley for taking him there, but for all his protest, it doesn't stop him from going inside on his own two feet.

He finds himself standing in the entry, looking around like he's just woken up and doesn't quite know where he is or how he got there. It's so quiet. Part of him expects that any moment he will see Aziraphale come around a shelf, or down the stairs, a smile shining on his face, blue eyes bright with laughter. His voice echoes in the silence:

'Well, are you going to just stand there?'

Crowley steps down, wanders aimlessly, running a hand over the spines of books, looking idly at papers and other odds and ends left on desks. Untouched. As though the angel has just stepped out, and he'll be back in only a moment. It's like the bookshop is holding its breath, waiting. Then again, maybe it's him that's waiting.

He sits in Aziraphale's chair, taking his glasses off and setting them on the desk. He sighs, rubbing his eyes to chase away the sting of emotions he's been keeping at bay. He's not sure what he's doing. He shouldn't be here. The memories hurt. And there are so many... Too many to recall them all, but oh how his cursed mind tries, leafing through them one by one like so many pages of a forgotten journal.

It's a horrible disparity, the peace, the contentment, the happiness in those memories, overshadowed now by the pain of losing Aziraphale. Like he's lost everything else. He lets out a sharp breath as it washes over him again, suffusing him with every breath he takes.

He supposes that, perhaps, it was always going to be this way. Perhaps it was just a matter of time. Angels and demons... What sort of future could they have ever had, really. Maybe there was only room in God's ineffable plan for one pair of subverted expectations. After all...what was it they'd said? Ah, right. Once makes a good story; twice makes it seem like an institutional problem.

Crowley slouches deeper into the chair. He wishes he could just stop feeling so damn much.

'It's alright, my dear, to let go,' the angel who isn't there whispers to him. He can almost feel a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"I don't want to let go," Crowley growls.

'But... you're miserable...' The voice sounds like it's the one who's miserable.

"I'm a demon," Crowley says to the empty shop, "Miserable is part of the job description."

'Oh, Crowley - '

"STOP." Crowley snaps, his temper flaring dangerously. He uncoils from the seat and paces the room. His voice is raw, crackling with energy, "That is enough. You don't get to go back to Heaven, leave me behind, and then give me this shit about being miserable and letting go. This was your damn choice. You're the one who let go. Don't tell me to let go of... I can't let go -" His pacing takes him to a pillar, and he presses his head against it to stop the pounding behind his eyes. His throat aches for wanting to scream and scream until there's nothing left in him to feel this.

"Mr...Crowley?"

Crowley's head whips up. Muriel is standing in the bookshop entryway.

"I thought I heard someone shouting in here," they say. Their voice is just chipper enough to set his teeth on edge.

"I was just leaving," he mutters, stalking back to the desk and shoving his glasses back into place.

"Oh, you don't have to!" Muriel cries, "You're always welcome here. Aziraphale told me-"

"Shut it," Crowley hisses at them as he shoves past, "Whatever he said, keep it to yourself."

"...I guess, if that's what you want..." Muriel turns, gaze following him as he reaches the door. They debate saying anything more and abruptly call just as Crowley steps out, "You should know, I think he's pretty miserable... without you, I mean."

Crowley hesitates for only a moment, and Muriel thinks they hear him say, "I guess that makes two of us." Then the bookshop door closes behind him.

☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

Thanks for reading ☺️

[cru5h-cascades]

I don't really have art of Sangre yet but I do have a few sketches down and a decent idea of her character (I might make some art of her tomorrow btw), so here's some stuff about Sangre that may or may not be on her toyhouse bio if I make one for her so consider this as brainstorming. Naturally, some of this might be subject to change.

Full Name: Sangre Rios, AKA the True Agent 8 (Applicant 10,008)

Species: sanitized octoling(?) (you'll see why in a bit)

Age (at sanitization): 16

Main (formerly): octoshot

Sangre is basically the true Agent 8, with her actually being Applicant 10,008 (why is Orion not the "actual" Agent 8? well, because Orion looked so similar to Sangre, especially with their wig, Tartar confused Orion for Sangre, leading Orion to be mistakenly called Applicant 10,008 and in turn also being called Agent 8 by Cuttlefish)

Sangre's backstory is more accuate to the canon Agent 8 that Orion's, with Sangre being a soldier in the Octarian military in the S1 days, escaping Octopia, and then ending up in Deepsea Metro, however there's some differences between Sangre & canon 8's backstory.

Sangre would frequently show up in octoling missions Somnus would be on and the two would always fight each other, with Sangre escaping just before Somnus could finish her off. The two would have their final battle just before Sangre gets captured by Kamabo Co. employees and taken to the facility.

Instead of Somnus and Cuttlefish also being captured, they are spared. Somnus, who fell in love with Sangre over time, was determined to save her, only for Cuttlefish just to be like "don't do it this is what we wanted: for her to be gone". After this, Somnus goes into Deepsea Metro to try and find Sangre before something happens to her.

Sangre almost had all 4 thangs before she became sanitized after losing all her CQ points in Girl Power Station (she was determined to pass that test) (My headcanon is that if you run out of CQ points, you basically lose the chance to go to "the promised land" and get sanitized). Sangre had 3 out of the 4 thangs.

Something went wrong during Sangre's sanitization, causing her body to lose most of its shape, her speech becoming super limited, and for all but one of her memories to go away (that memory being of Somnus' face, but everything else about Somnus Sangre has forgotten). Sangre couldn't be commanded to do anything or could be splatted, so Sangre just wanders the Deepsea Metro aimlessly, a husk of her former cocky self.

Somnus never finds Sangre and thinks Orion is Sangre until Orion tells them the truth.

Sangre, in her new form, is harmless and doesn't talk much. She pops into testing areas and watch the subjects in secret, with only a few of them knowing that she was there, but shrugging her off as just a figment of their imagination shortly after.

Sangre calls what is supposed to be Somnus "angel", most likely because of the fact that despite everything her memory of Somnus still remains but she doesn't know who he actually is.

Because Orion recieved Sangre's memcakes and burnt them because of the emotional distress they caused her, Sangre's memories can't be brought back through the Memverse.

I'm debating on weither or not I should have Sangre escape Deepsea Metro. I have an idea of what that scenario would look like (with Somnus finally saving Sangre and her recognizing Somnus as her angel or something like that). If you guys would like to see that then let me know :D

[surrealsuriel]

Bound with Fire, Forged in Flames (Elucien Fic)

Summary // Masterlist // Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

A/N: See, I told you I wasn’t abandoning this work just cause I wrote a few one shots. I just needed some extra fluff to write in my life to balance out this chapter. I know it’s a shorter chapter but it is key to the plot and it goes best by itself. Sorry in advance!

Chapter Nine — Protea

Word Count: 1325

Elain

Once in Velaris, days began to pass without any news on what was occurring between the High King and Duke Vanserra. Was he still planning a coup now that he’d been exposed? Was Rhys planning a war against him and his armies? Who knew? Elain certainly didn’t.

Most days she felt like a ghost���aimlessly wandering the halls of the palace. She often tried to appreciate the beautiful architecture, but then she’d be reminded of her betrothed sitting in a war room somewhere in the same castle and felt bitterness again.

Lucien, Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel rarely left the war room these days except for sleep. It took a toll on all their wives and lovers, but Elain still felt incredibly jealous that at least her sisters got to see their husbands at the end of the day. Meanwhile, Elain wasn’t even sure she could call her betrothed “her betrothed” anymore. She felt wholly useless and clueless, and she absolutely hated it.

Another day came and went with no word from anyone and Elain felt like a ticking time bomb. She knew that Feyre and Nesta knew what was going on, both because their husbands were the ones behind everything and because they were often let into the war room, as well—seen as equals with the men. Why hadn’t Elain been invited? Sure, her sisters had already faced horrors of the world and they knew the ins and outs of politics, but they had gained that knowledge through bloodshed experience. Elain wanted to be in the room with them—with him.

Every time she saw Feyre’s worried brow or Nesta’s steeled gaze she wanted to scream at them to let her in, to share the burden with her. But she saw them just as little as she did the boys. As Elain ate her breakfast all by her lonesome, staring blankly ahead of her, she had the sense of mind to ask the date from a nearby servant.

His answer filled Elain with a white rage that prompted her to spring up from her chair and begin her search for Lucien, finally.

If they had remained at the Archeron estate, their wedding would have been in three days time.

Lucien

Lucien blinked the bleariness from his eyes once again as he took in the messages Azriel had gathered from his spies about his father’s court. The past few weeks had flown by in a blur of strategizing and, frankly, arguing over what to do about his father’s betrayal. Sometimes the conversations wandered to what to do with him, but thankfully Feyre was always nearby to defend his honor.

Lucien had always been skilled at the matters of the court, but war and battles had never been his strong suit. He was trying his best to be useful to Rhysand, but his knowledge of his father’s armies began and ended at knowing they were “big”. He recalled the scoff Azriel had let out when he said that in the war room, “Thank you for the enlightenment, Vanserra, we are all saved.” Lucien had burned at the use of his last name like it was an insult. Things had been getting more and more tense in their war room as of late— Lucien tried not to take it personally.

The most heated debate that had been held in that room as of late was that of his brother. None of them liked Eris very much, and Lucien definitely didn’t like him, but when he had coke to Lucien for help, he had spoken truthfully. Unfortunately, he also had used that rare moment of honesty to vie for himself which is what Rhysand was taking issue with.

Eris had sworn that, should their father attack the High King, he would plan a coup of his own against his father. Eris just requested that in exchange for his loyalty to the crown, he would be made the next Duke and would have help ascending to this position. “How convenient for him,” Cassian had growled, and Lucien couldn’t help but agree.

He dragged his hand over his face, trying to calm his thoughts. His mind immediately supplied him with the image of Elain. Gods, he was pretty sure he hadn’t actually spoken with her or really seen her since arriving in Velaris. As if sensing his guilt down some magical bond, a knock sounded at his door. He hoped it was Elain, but the knock had sounded a bit angry, rough and loud, that he sort of assumed it would actually be Azriel. He didn’t hide the delight from his features when he opened the door and came face to face with none other than the woman of his dreams. His smile dropped when he saw her expression, and realized that her mood matched the tone of her knock—angry.

“Elain?” he simply asked in lieu of asking her what was wrong or greeting her too joyfully. Huffing, she moved into his rooms, shoving past him. The door clicked shut as he turned around to her accusing finger waving in front of him.

“Do you have any idea what day it is?” she demanded. He weighed his words carefully, wishing he had kept any sense of time since arriving here. “I’m so sorry, my lady, no. Did I miss something?”

For a second, her anger flickered to reveal a deep sadness, but then her face scrunched up in anger again. “If we were back at home, we would be getting married in three days, Lucien! THREE DAYS!”

Lucien felt terrible that their wedding would obviously be pushed back, but he still didn’t fully understand where all this anger was coming from. “Elain, I’m truly sorry for not being around enough as of late. I, too, wish we could return to your father’s property and participate in the wedding of our dreams, but,” he sighed heavily, “I have duties here. Duties to the High King. Duties that will determine our future.”

Her angry facade fully shattered at that. Her eyes welled with tears before him, “What about your duty to me? Is that no longer important now that you’re estranged from the father who forced you to be with me?”

Lucien’s mind went blank as he finally understood the full scope of her worries. She thinks I don’t want to marry her anymore just because it’s not arranged? He felt well and fully baffled, but with a start, he did realize that this was an option. He had already betrayed his father hundreds of times in that war room and had surely lost any birthright he had from his name. He was free. Free from his family, free from his expectations, and free from all that his father demanded of him.

Lucien had a choice to make. For the first time in his life, his next move was wholly his. He looked down at the woman in front of him. She so often consumed his thoughts now, but he had spent years stubbornly set on never marrying before he met her. Up until his father had forced his hand, Lucien swore to himself that he wouldn’t even fall in love ever again. Am I in love with Elain? he wondered. Am I in love with her enough to give up everything I had planned for my own life until she entered it?

“I didn’t- I didn’t consider that, in truth,” he admitted, still shell-shocked by the realization that his future was now his own. A single tear fell down Elain’s face, but he saw her steel herself as she told him, “Well, now that you’ve utterly ruined me, I suppose you have a choice to make.” With that, she stormed out of the room. He tried not to wince as she slammed the door behind her. It took more effort for him to ignore the pang in his heart at the loud sob she let out the second the door shut behind her.

A/N: ANGST!

[dreamsfreckles]

[6:57p.m.] Whatever Idiot

~

Dream x reader

Fluff

Wholesome bf content 😌 - enjoy!

~

You furrowed your brows in thought.

As much as you loved watching him game with his friends, you got bored sometimes. It’s not like he left you out or ignored you, but today you were craving a little extra love from your 6’3 boyfriend. “Dream,”as his buddies called him, was playing minecraft yet again, just messing around in the SMP. You came to his house an hour or two ago and talked for a bit before he hopped online with the boys. You didn’t mind, of course. Sometimes you’d play with him, while other times you’d just watch; either way it was equally as entertaining. However, today felt super long, even kind of rough. All you wanted to do once the day ended was to fall into your wonderful boyfriend’s arms... But that was kind of hard to do when he was sitting in front of his desk, clicking away on his keyboard and mouse.

You debated your options.

You could bother him to attract his attention, or you could patiently wait for him like the good girlfriend you are...

After much reluctance, you simply decided to just lay on his bed and scroll through tiktok for the time being.

As you aimlessly pass by hundreds of videos... One of them catches your attention.

There’s a video of a girl setting up her phone on a surface to point at a boy who looks to be gaming on a computer.

That looks familiar to your situation...

She then proceeds to walk over to him, sit down facing him in his lap, and then hug him closely whilst he continues playing on the device.

Your heart flutters watching the video.

That was so cute... What would Clay do if you did that to him..?

Glancing up to him from your spot on his bed, you analyze his set up. Is there room for you to fit in his lap? Is there anything that you could potentially knock over? You sit up more to get a better look. He has space in between himself and the desk that looks to be enough space to crawl into... He also looks calm, so you shouldn’t be interupting anything special...

Deciding that this was your chance, you softly stood from your spot on the bed and padded over to the side of him.

“No, Sapnap, you can’t build that here, it’s-“ Clay spoke into his mic, probably ordering Sapnap around.

With a flushed face, you move to stand more in front of him, causing him to look from his monitor, up to you.

“Babe-“

You wordlessly swing your right leg over his thighs and gently sit yourself down in his lap, facing him, and then wrapping your arms around him. Clay froze, his face heating up as he processed what you just did. You relax into his embrace and nuzzle into the side of his neck.

Finally content with your guys’s proximity, you sigh out the four words you have yet to say to him that night.

“I love you, Clay.”

With his game already paused and mic muted, Clay wraps his arms around you and rests his head on yours. He was smiling, his heart filled with warmth. He didnt realize how much he missed being this close to you.

“I love you too.”

After hugging in silence for a few minutes, Clay’s curiosity got the best of him. “Baby?”

“Hmm?” You breathe out.

“Whatcha doin’?” He asks softly.

“Huggin’ you.”

Clay chuckles, closing his eyes once again, and rubbing his hands up and down your back.

“You are being very cute right now.” He confesses, with a light smirk.

Your lips lift into a smile. “I know.”

Clay lets out a soft wheeze, running his fingers through your hair. “Was I ignoring you too much for your liking? You feeling clingy?” He asked jokingly.

You squeeze him a little tighter. “Lil’ bit.”

Clay chcukles, yet again, and crushes you harder into the hug, causing you to let out a strained squeak. “ClAy! tOo mUcH!” You mangage to yell out, successfully making Clay bubble into a fit of wheezes and giggles. Finally feeling merciful, he lets go of you and allows you to sit up and look down at him. Clay gazes at you with stars in his eyes. Every time he looks at you, a wave of excitment hits him. Being with you was always fun; even if you both were sitting in silence, scrolling through Instagram, or watching youtube together.

Clay’s mind started to wander to how you both got into this situation in the first place. You must’ve gotten a little bored while he was playing. You were usually quite content when he played. Maybe you weren’t. Were you always bored when he played? Were you getting sick of his gaming habits? Worry flashed over Clay for a moment. No... You would say something if you got bored... right? Clay didn’t think it was that deep. If there was a real problem, you probably wouldn’t be in his lap...

Right..?

“Clay?” You broke him from his trance. “Oh.” He blinked. “yeah?” You giggled at his dopey face. “You looked a little concerned for a second.” You admitted, bringing your hand up to his face to pinch his cheekbone. Suddenly, a thought washes over you. “Wait.” You panic. “Is there something on my face?” Clay almost laughed. Almost. He felt a wave mischief wash over him. “Yes, actually.” He smirks. “There’s a very tiny spider on your forehead.” Your eyes widen for a moment and it looks like you’re about to spaz out; but before you do, you realize the look on his face is most definitely cap. You immediately glare at him and smack his shoulder. “I hate you.” You scoffed, getting up from his lap. Clay giggles and tries to tug you back. “Wait, I was kidding!” He draws out, whining at your departure from his lap. You hop back into your original spot and scoff. “Yeah, whatever, go back to blowing George or something.” Clay’s jaw drops at your words. “WhaT DID YOU JUST SAY?” He starts to get up from the chair. You look up from your phone, knowing what’s about to happen. “Nope. Nope. Go back to your desk, I’m not starting this with you again.” You deny, shaking your head and directing him to sit back down. Clay stares at you in disbelief. “Wh-“ he looks back to his computer and then back to you. “What do you mean ‘starting this again’-“ he mocks in your voice. You burst out laughing, denying him from coming any closer. “I meAN-“ you say exhasporatedly. “We both know what the fuck you’re about to do and I CAN’T-“ before you could finish your sentence, you were already being thrown over his shoulder. “CLAY!” You screech. “I’M SERIOUS CLAY, I CAN’T-“ Clay shakes his head, already done with you. “Nope you got on my nerves, this is your punishment.” Clay walks out of his room, through the kitchen, and out the patio door, heading straight for his pool. “CLAY I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU-“ and with one final curse from you, Clay flings himself, with you over his shoulder, into his backyard pool.

Clay is already laughing as you rise to the surface of the water, a glare on your face. Clay is wheezing with laughter. You almost felt concerned that he wasn’t breathing. Almost. As his wheezing turns to laughing and laughing turns to giggling, he finally was to the point where he could function. You raise your eyebrows. “Done?” You ask. Clay lets out one last chcukle, walking towards your body half submerged in the water. “Not quite.” He states suggestively, walking up to you until you’re an inch apart in the middle of the pool.

Now, there’s no way you’re letting him back you up against the pool wall like some PUSSY. So you stood your ground in your sopping wet sweatshirt. If anything, YOU were the one who was going to be backing HIM up against some wall.

Clay stares at you expectingly, water driping from his wet hair. You stare right back at him, no sign of emotion. He looks back and fourth between both of your eyes, trying to make you break. However, your stare is much stronger and is quickly causing Clay to panic. You stare harder. ‘Break, break’ you chant in your head. Clays eyes squint. You follow suit.

Clay blinks.

“FUCK”

“HAHAHA IDIOT I WIN!” You rejoice.

Clay sighs, running his hands over his face. “Whatever.” He deadpans. “Lets just get out of here.” He mopes, walking to the stairs of the pool.

You giggle. “Someone’s a sore loser...” you poke, causing Clay to look back at you with a fierce look in his eyes. You laugh and swim up to him, latching yourself onto his wet t-shirt-clad back. “Stop giving me that look, you puppy. I know who you truly are.” You smile up at him innocently. Clay rolls his eyes and smiles.

“Whatever, idiot.”

Lol, hope you liked it! This was my first try writing with the dream team and I plan to write more! Let me know if you have any feedback! Also, I can take requests if anyone is interested :3 thx!

[tails89]

Hmmmm ok feel free to ignore but I had a thought pop into my head and I can't shake it? So I wanted to share it!

Big brother Buck! Through whatever turn of events, Buck ends up with a little brother... like way younger, and Buck's basically in charge of him. But like... end of s1 Buck getting custody of his little brother. Which would lead to Buck at school events, Buck and his brother debating when to correct people who think Buck's his dad incorrectly, a whole new layer to Maddie showing up and Buck 2.0 in general! Bobby is like "really consider if you're ready to step up and care for this kid" for all of like an hour at which point the fatherly discussions with eye contact shift to reassuring encouragement and proud shoulder pats. And for the buddie of our all - the little brother being about Christopher's age. Are they besties or do they dislike each other? (I'm leaning towards besties) THE TSUNAMI WITH 2 KIDS

Sorry for losing it in your ask box. I'm just overrun with mental images slotting a little brother into Buck's life starting around the end of s1. The possibilities!!

Omg nonnie, never apologise. I love this!

I'm trying to come up with some convoluted way Margaret and Phillip would have anotI can't see it... but this is play pretend so why the hell not.

Adding a read more because I went a little wild 😂

They only ever planned on having two kids, but then Daniel got sick and they had Buck in a desperate attempt to save Daniel.

I don't think they'd take the risk of getting pregnant again. But I can just imagine, what if Margaret does get pregnant with some misguided idea that maybe this is the child that will heal her.

It never works out that way, of course. The baby is blonder and curlier than Buck was and it's a mistake.

In the meantime, Buck is 25/26, has finished training to become a firefighter, and he's found his place with the 118 after a rocky start.

He's a changed man. He's Buck 2.0 now and he decides to reconnect with his parents. He calls them to let them know he's back in the US after a few years wandering aimlessly around the globe.

He finds out he has a brother and all he can think is 'no'. Because he knows what his parents are like. He knows what it is like to be raised by people who had no emotional availability for him. Who likely have none for this little kid.

He doesn't know what to do. Maddie would know, but he hasn't heard from her in three years.

But the difference was that he had Maddie, but this kid has no one. He's alone.

So Buck decides to go home, take a few days off and fly over to his parents, and it just confirms all his worst fears.

He can't watch his parents treat this little kid the way they treated him, and that gives him the courage to challenge his parents and call them out (maybe it leads to him finding out about Daniel earlier??)

He tells his parents he's taking his little brother back to LA with him, and they don't even put up a fight.

And just like that, Buck is the sole guardian of his much younger brother.

Captain Dad Bobby is immediately on board, teaching Buck to make easy, kid friendly meals.

But what changes?

He's still a bit standoffish when Eddie joins but,

"I love kids."

"I love this one."

"Hey, he looks about the same age as—" Buck pulls out his phone to show Eddie his little brother.

Maddie cannot believe her parents could do this again. Also, she can't believe her little brother is taking care of her littler brother, and I think there would be some (misplaced) guilt over leaving them. But she's proud of Buck 2.0 and the way he's stepped up to take care of their little brother.

But oh my god. The truck bombing! Maddie offers to look after their brother while Buck is recovering but he doesn't want to leave Buck.

Buck's cast is covered in art by the time it's removed.

The tsunami! Buck sitting on top of the ladder truck with Chris tucked in on one side and his brother on the other 😭

I love this so much.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 311: Hand Gun

Previously on BnHA: Horikoshi was all “thinkin’ about dropping in some woke analogies of the very real and very presently relevant issue of racial profiling idk what do you guys think” and then shrugged and did it without waiting for an answer, and ngl it was a bit sudden, but I’m here for it. All Might was all “DEKU YOU NEED TO EAT” and Deku was all “OKAY” and took his hero bento and went to go stand dramatically on a tower in the rain whilst having some highly anticipated Vestige flashbacks. OFA II was all, “sup, I guess I’m not Kacchan... OR AM I,” and ngl I think he is?? Alternate universes anybody?? Hello??? But anyway, so OFA the First a.k.a. Yoichi was all “remember that time you guys rescued me from my evil brother and Two took my hand and we Had A Moment?”, and Two and Three were all “ahh yeah good times”, and it was very nice and very, very gay. The chapter ended with it being very unclear if Two and Three have actually lent their power to Deku yet or not lmao. Y’all need to get your shit together dudes.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi is all “what if I gave a random bad guy a fucking tommy gun that shoots nails” and jesus christ calm down son. The Hawksquad, a.k.a. SQUAWK as per @hotchocolatier​, are all “time to drive aimlessly around town acting like Deku has a restraining order on us because that’s literally the best plan to combat the League we could come up with,” and I have no further comment. Hawks is all “idk about you guys but I want to know more about AFO and Tomura’s whole deal” and I can’t remember the last time I identified so strongly with one of these characters. All Might is all, “[EXPLODES???]”, and the chapter ends with that mysterious hot girl from the Tartarus breakout being all “HELLO I CAN TURN INTO A GUN AND I LITERALLY DON’T GIVE A FUCK” and (1) WOW, and (2) IT’S TRUE, SHE CAN, AND SHE REALLY DOESN’T. GODDAMN.

(ETA: so this wholly escaped my notice on the first go, and also has nothing to do with the chapter itself, but I only just realized that this chapter was scanlated by a new group, TCB Scans. they actually did a very good job, and I’m curious if they’ve found a new RAW provider, because the quality this week is actually crazy good in comparison to what we’ve been dealing with for the past few months. I’m gonna have to get caught up on what exactly happened here lol.)

so what will it be this week? more Vestige antics? more of Sad Nomad Deku standing on buildings and pretending like he’s some cool aloof antihero, as if he could fool us when we all know his hero backpack is secretly stuffed full with his nerd diaries and the remnants of all the hero bentos that All Might keeps giving him?? or, just putting it out there, just a crazy thought, but you don’t suppose we might actually cut back to U.A.? mmm. side-eyes emoji

maaaaaan I’m starting to get tired of this trend of beginning chapters by dropping in on random power-tripping civilians and/or Shindou lol. just once can we get a chapter that opens with someone I actually give a fuck about

oh at least Endeavor is here

A WHAT SUPPORT ITEM!??! HOLY SHIT DDLKJSLFKJL

lol somehow that’s more terrifying than bullets for me?? like I’m fully aware that bullets will fuck you up way worse and that in real life nail guns probably don’t work like this AT ALL and only have a range of like... hold up let me just google... up to 100 to 150 m/s and distances of up to 500m wait WHAT

okay wait. hold up. like I was expecting google to tell me nail guns only shoot a few feet at most, and instead the first search result is some CDC blog article that’s “dispelling” the “””myth””” -- please note my repeated sarcastic quotation marks -- that nail guns can fire 1400 feet per second, by explaining that actually they can fire anywhere from 315 ft/sec to 1,295 ft/sec, and that “it is in the pneumatic nail gun user’s best interest to handle these tools as if they were a firearm despite having a lower velocity” dlkjdslkjflkl

SO THAT SCENE IN IRON MAN 3 WHERE TONY RAIDS A HOME DEPOT AND BUYS A BUNCH OF RANDOM TOOLS AND SHIT AND GOES ON TO STAGE A ONE-MAN INVASION OF AN INTERNATIONAL TERRORIST’S FLORIDA MANSION HQ IS ACTUALLY TRUE. YOU’RE TELLING ME THAT THE FILM “HOME ALONE” IS ACTUALLY A DOCUMENTARY. “the Discovery Channel television program “Mythbusters” compared the penetration capacity of an airborne projectile shot from a pneumatic framing nail gun to that of a 9mm hand gun” HELLO YES AND A MERRY “WHAT THE FUCK” TO YOU AS WELL

anyway, so. there’s apparently a reason why the Number One hero, who can burn people with the intensity of a sun going supernova, is hiding here behind this concrete support column making frowny faces. nope. nuh uh. he ain’t about that. I don’t blame you buddy

so now he’s barrel rolling out of his hiding place and setting this dude THE FUCK ON FIRE because HELL NO. BAD ENOUGH I HAD TO WATCH THAT FUCKING MUSHROOM EPISODE LAST WEEK! YOU TAKE THAT SHIT SOMEWHERE ELSE

LOL look at his face

I know the context is actually him being all “I know I’m responsible for basically everything that happened and so that’s why I’m so grim and serious about this mission to set things right piece by piece,” but in my mind this pissed-off face is 100% all because this dude tried to shoot his eye out with a nail gun. look at that. you made him go full flame face again. beard and all. protecting his face so that it can hopefully melt any stray nails that get too close. nope nope nope

good lord. so what’s up next. let me guess the guy fighting Best Jeanist has like an atomic chainsaw or some shit

lol nope we’re just cutting back to Hawks and Jeanist chilling in the Jesla after they’ve wrapped things up

Jeanist has got some serious Groot energy you guys jesus christ he’s like 12 feet tall

oh snap someone threw a pipe at him now

today is just the chapter of Endeavor being assaulted by random DIY tools I guess

I mean, I get why they’re pissed at him obviously; I would be too lol. but tbh I also don’t really understand the “get out of here we don’t want your help” attitude that all of these people suddenly seem to have?? like it if were me, I would be fucking DEMANDING for him and the other heroes to be working round the clock to fix their stupid mess. I mean who else is gonna do it?? it’s their mess, I sure don’t want to be the one to clean it up instead. anyways but whatever lol

oh shit?

so they haven’t dropped the whole “OFA secret potentially gets revealed to the world” thing yet after all. that makes sense I suppose, it did seem like that whole thing wound up playing out a bit too easily

anyway so yeah

the locals are definitely none too happy. well at least Dabi’s got something to be cheerful about I guess

so now we’re cutting to the interior of the Jesla and they’re chitchatting about the current investigation

oh wow this actually makes a bit of sense now. so there was a reason they were keeping their distance from Deku

please note that even in this abstract Endeavor’s-Mental-Image-Of-Him panel, Deku’s eyes still don’t have the light in them anymore :( my poor son

also ftr I still think using Deku as bait in this particular sense is the shittiest idea ever ngl. like sure, let’s let the sixteen-year-old run around battling miscellaneous escaped prison convicts while we stay several kilometers away ON PURPOSE despite the fact that you’re using him as bait to draw out the Big Bad, who just a reminder can destroy anything with a mere touch and who you were all basically helpless against. what exactly are you all planning to do if Tomura or one of the other League VIPs actually shows up to retrieve him?? are you even keeping tabs on him at all in real time?? jesus

(ETA: well that escalated quickly lol.)

Horikoshi is all of a sudden dropping whole pages of exposition here and I can’t be bothered to summarize this lol so just,

a big fat YES to what Jeanist said, though. that’s why imo they would have been better off laying a trap at U.A. rather than just wandering around out in the open. I assume they’re trying to cut their potential losses because U.A. is full of students (and civilians), but those students also happen to be more capable than pretty much anyone else in the manga at this point. and tbh they’re already in life-threatening danger regardless of how things play out from here on, so they might as well at least try to use the few advantages they have right now. U.A. is almost certainly going to come under siege at some point anyway, so they might as well prepare for it

lol I don’t think I’m explaining this very well because I don’t have the patience right now to break it down point by point like it really ought to be, so for now I’ll just say that imo “U.A. siege” stands a good chance of being the eventual endgame even now, and so this whole “Deku runs around being bait” arc is really just killing time until then lol. like and subscribe for more rambling nonsensical takes such as this. maybe next time I’ll even put it all into one single sentence for maximum meandering senior citizen rant value

well it’s nice that they’re finally talking about all of this I guess

we readers have known all of this for months now but this confirms the heroes are finally caught up. ALSO, Hawks is so fucking smart, as always. kinda wonder if things would have played out differently if All Might had let him in on the secret a bit earlier. probably that’s why Horikoshi made damn sure they didn’t find out until after the War arc lol

OH MY GOD YOOOOOO HAWKS OUT HERE ASKING THE REAL QUESTIONS

“anyone else wondering why AFO bothered to raise Tomura as his fake heir for fifteen years when he was secretly planning on taking over his body the whole time” YES, [raises hand] lmao Hawks where the hell were you when I was debating this “AFO is the final villain and Tomura is just his pawn” thing on multiple occasions over the past several years lol

lmao seeing them debate the metaphysics of OFA and all of its mystical bullshit is seriously surreal you guys

JEANIST HAVE YOU CHECKED OUT MY META TAG I HAVE WRITTEN SO MANY ESSAYS. I ACTUALLY WAS PLANNING ON WRITING ANOTHER ESSAY ABOUT THE THING THAT I’M PRETTY SURE HAWKS IS ABOUT TO BRING UP, BUT I NEVER GOT AROUND TO IT WHOOPS, BUT MAYBE I WILL NOW LOL LET’S SEE HOW IT GOES

yes!!

WHICH AFO FUCKING ENSURED HE WOULD BE BY LITERALLY PLANNING OUT EVERY LAST DETAIL OF HIS FAMILY TRAGEDY, FROM SECRETLY GIVING TENKO THE QUIRK TO MAKING SURE NO CIVILIANS OR HEROES WOULD HELP HIM UNTIL AFO FINALLY STEPPED IN. I’M 1000% CONVINCED THIS IS THE CASE YOU GUYS. NOT JUST BECAUSE I’M NOT A FAN OF “THE WORLD IS A FUNDAMENTALLY SHITTY PLACE, ACTUALLY” TAKES BECAUSE MISTER ROGERS TOLD ME TO ALWAYS LOOK FOR THE HELPERS, BUT ALSO BECAUSE IT LITERALLY JUST DOESN’T MAKE A LICK OF SENSE OTHERWISE. THEIR ENTIRE HOUSE CAVED IN FFS, YOU’RE TELLING ME NONE OF THE NEIGHBORS FUCKING OVERHEARD THAT SHIT AND WENT “UMMMMMMMMM” AND WENT TO SEE WHAT WAS GOING ON?? “DIDN’T THERE USED TO BE A HOUSE HERE, AND LIKE A WHOLE FAMILY, AND SHIT?”

LIKE I’M SORRY, BUT IT’S ONE THING TO SAY IT’S REALISTIC THAT NOT A SINGLE PERSON WOULD ATTEMPT TO HELP THE WANDERING TRAUMATIZED CHILD AFTERWARDS (WHICH I DISAGREE WITH AS WELL BUT AT LEAST THAT’S MORE SUBJECTIVE), AND IT’S A WHOLE OTHER THING TO ARGUE THAT IT’S REALISTIC THAT NO ONE WOULD BE FUCKING NOSY. LIKE THAT’S A WHOLE DIFFERENT LEVEL OF “THAT’S NOT HOW ANY OF THIS WORKS” ENTIRELY LOL. anyway tl;dr AFO is a piece of shit and Tomura’s entire worldview is based on a magnificently intricate and savagely cruel lie more at 11

anyway so after all that ranting it looks like that wasn’t even what Hawks was talking about after all lol. I just went off for absolutely no reason lol oh well. instead it seems that Hawks is suggesting that Tomura’s carefully cultivated hatred might not yet have actually reached “can defeat OFA” levels even after all of that trauma. interesting!

don’t mind me, I’m just sitting here while my brain furiously scrambles to put together all the parallels between Hawks and Tomura that it never noticed before until exactly this second. like I’m not even sure that was the intent here at all (I need to check out another translation or two lol), but regardless my mind decided that now would be the perfect time to make the connection between these two twenty-somethings who both had horrific childhoods and spent years being molded by their respective manipulative guardians, and developed eerily similar “laugh at everything because what else can you do” coping mechanisms to deal with it all hmmmmm

anyway so they were talking more about their strategy, but now all of a sudden Jeanist’s phone is beeping??

AND NOW WE’RE CUTTING AWAY TO ALL MIGHT AND HIS MIGHTMOBILE DAMMIT so that means the call to Jeanist was actually something important then!! WAS IT BAKUGOU OMG. DOES YOUR INTERN WANT A WORD FFFKLFSJK please it’s been so long I just need a little crumb or two to tide me over lmao have mercy

anyway so All Might’s following the GPS tracking device he’s apparently got planted on Deku (which in my conspiracy headcanons he’s actually had for a long time now, like since before DvK2 lol because HOW ELSE WOULD HAVE HAVE KNOWN THAT THEY WERE FIGHTING EACH OTHER IN GROUND BETA, PEOPLE) and thinking angsty thoughts about Deku’s sucky life

AND NOW ALL MIGHT’S PHONE IS RINGING TOO?? BAKUGOU HOW MANY PEOPLE ARE YOU CALLING. “WHERE ARE YOU HIDING THE NERD GODDAMMIT”

OMG

lol is he under attack or is he just finally giving All Might the slip like we all know he SECRETLY PLANNED TO ALL ALONG oh my poor dumb angstmuffin

OMG AHHHHHHH WHAT

DID ALL MIGHT JUST FUCKING DIE LMAO NO OF COURSE NOT, BUT WHAT

WHAT IS HAPPENING OMG

THE FUCK IS THAT. AT LEAST IT’S NOT A NAIL

OH IT’S A SPEAKER!! OMG DID THEY TAKE ALL MIGHT HOSTAGE

“THEY’RE HERE” WELP, TIME TO SEE JUST HOW SHITTY THIS SHITTY PLAN REALLY IS LOL

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

SHE!!!!

omg. AND OVERHAUL JUST CHILLING THERE IN THE BACKGROUND ALL “WHAT DO YOU EVEN WANT ME TO DO I’VE GOT NO FUCKING ARMS” YEAH GOOD RIDDANCE LOL

DOES THIS GIRL HAVE ONE GIANT LEG OR WHAT, LIKE WHAT’S THE DEAL HERE

-- HOLD UP WAIT, THE GUN IS HER ARM, HOLY SHIT SHE CAN TURN INTO A GUN -- OKAY HOLD UP BECAUSE I NEED TO SAY THAT IN BIGGER TEXT BECAUSE !!!!

YOU GUYS, THE COOL TARTARUS GIRL IS BACK AND HER QUIRK IS “CAN TURN INTO A FUCKING GUN.” THIS IS NOT A DRILL!! MY BEST GIRL MT. GUN IS FINALLY BACK ON THE SCENE WITH HER QUIRK “CAN DO ANYTHING A GUN CAN DO.” “I HEARD Y’ALL WENT AND NAMED ONE OF YOUR HEROES ‘GUNHEAD’ EVEN THOUGH HIS HEAD ISN’T EVEN A GUN, LIKE WTF IS UP WITH THAT LET ME SHOW YOU HOW IT’S DONE” DANG OKAY

lmao only fifteen pages this week, and STILL NO KACCHAN (THEN WHO WAS PHONE!!!), but man I don’t even care because finally we’ve got a cliffhanger that’s actually deserving of being a cliffhanger! hot dog. okay then

[fandomlovingfreak]

Glacial Passion (2/?)

Regulus Black/Reader

Rating: Suggestive Content, but no lemon

Word Count: 1809

MasterList Link I AO3 Link I Wattpad Link

Summary: Glacial, cold, icy… all words that described Regulus Black’s grey eyes. Was there truly no emotion behind those eyes, or did a caring man exist beneath? Could she defrost those glacial eyes?

Disclaimer: Regulus Black (Walburga Black, Orion Black, and Sirius Black) is a character from Harry Potter by J.K. Rowling. Reader or y/n is not owned by Rowling. This work has not been created for profit or financial compensation, and is a transformative fair use work in accordance with Section 107 of the United States Copyright Act.

Notes: So I am a liar, and this will be longer than 3 chapters probably:) I kept writing chapter 2 and it ended up being more like 6000 words, so I’m splitting it up baby

Enjoy

Pulled from sleep abruptly, I sit up, disoriented in the unfamiliar bedroom. Glancing around as the memories of last night come flooding in. This bed, now empty , belongs to my husband. Noticing said husband's absence, I rest my hand where I last saw him, noting that the sheets are cool to the touch. I glance towards the two doors leading to the closet and bathroom. Something deep inside me hopes that Regulus would pop out of either of the doors. 

Maybe he went to get something--

No. It's absurd to let myself believe that Regulus simply stepped out of the room for a moment. My foolish heart wants to believe he didn't, but I'm all too aware that Regulus abandoned me in our bed the morning after our wedding.

Why I assumed having sex with him would magically make him love me, I don't know. It was ridiculous, a miscalculation , an expectation that I had been holding onto consciously or not.

I laugh bitterly to myself. How stupid can I be? 

How stupid.

***

I assume running into me in the library of the house was an unpleasant accident on his part, partly from the stuttering pause when he walked through the doors and partly from the icy look he gave me.

How someone can look at another with such-- coldness , especially someone you could at best call a stranger, is unfathomable to me. I look back down at the book that I've spent my day entertaining myself with to shield myself from his frigid eyes.

It's helped pass the time to an extent, the time I should have been with him doing whatever newlyweds do on their first day of marriage.

At first, I had wandered the halls aimlessly debating with myself if breakfast with his parents, alone, would be too unbearable. It was a perfectly tragic breakfast, with Walburga asking me an array of pointless questions that had little to do with getting to know her new daughter-in-law.

Worst of all, she had been relentless in her demanding way about the importance of an heir, as if I were supposed to pop one out after one night. I had to admit, the idea of exposing her son and his use of contraceptive charms had been a delicious idea at the moment. In the end, though, I chose civility with my charming husband, even as the spite I felt for him in the current time had nearly pushed me towards the edge in these conversations.

I had wandered into the library after escaping my in-laws, and I hadn't left since then. The novel chosen to occupy my time had been working to make me forget that I was beyond annoyed with Regulus and my situation... but then he walked in and ruined what little sanity I had collected in the past hours.

Regulus still stands in the door frame, looking as if he may turn around and walk away before engaging me in any conversation or even a simple hello. If this son-of-a-bitch turns around and pretends he didn't see me, I swear I will make myself a widow.

"(y/n)."

My shoulders tense, "Regulus."

He doesn't respond for a second before asking, "Have you had a nice day?"

Un-fucking-believable , "No."

Not even married a full twenty-four hours, and he left me alone to fend for myself in this creaky, horrible old house with only his parents and a house-elf for company, and he dares to ask me if I've had a nice day?

If I hadn't just had one of the most soul-draining days of my life, I would've laughed at the look on his face. He doesn't quite know what to do with my firm 'no'. Naturally, I am not happy, and I will not hide my unhappiness from my dear husband.

"What is the matter? Did you--"

"You ran off to Merlin-knows-where, leaving me alone in this house. I did not have a good day, thank you for asking." I go back to the book I was reading. I had been enjoying this moment of reprieve from the anger I was feeling, but now that he's returned, I can barely focus on the little black words.

"Mother and father were here--"

"I don't find their company appealing," I spit back. How dare he not even explain himself. And suggest such a-- repulsive alternative . His parents? He really wanted me to spend my first day as his wife with his parents?

"I assumed you would want to get to know your family."

"You didn't suppose I would want to get to know my husband?" I can't help but bite back. His calm tone further aggravates me.

"You should know your family." 

"They are not my family."

I peek over my book to see his face. Confusion and a tinge of annoyance lace his features.

"They are your family."

" No , they are not."

He lets a frown crease his forehead for a moment before he goes back to his mask of passivity. "You are my wife." 

"That is true." My jaw clenches uncomfortably. What was his point?

"Then you are family, which makes my family yours ."

I shake my head, "no, it does not. "

Regulus looks frustrated, "When we have children. Then you will consider my family as yours?"

"No."

"No? How can you say no to a fact? A child of ours will be related to my family as well as yours and bear the Black name."

"That is all true, but it does not make us family."

Regulus has the decency to look shocked at my words, "I am your husband. Of course, we are family. With a child, that's even more so."

"Our marriage is a glorified contract at best. You do not love me, and I do not love you. You don't even try to love me. You made it fairly clear today that you don't intend on trying. Yes, any child born between us would be my family, but that does not make us family. Family implies some bond of familial familiarity. I don't know you, and at this rate, I don't see myself ever knowing you." I keep eye contact as I lay out our situation to my husband. Husband didn't even feel like it should apply to him. The warmth the word could have brought to me has been extinguished by Regulus's lack of emotion. Lack of-- everything.

Regulus stares back.

"I can't love you."

His words pierce any anger I felt. I knew that this morning. Knew it as the hours passed by today, and I still heard nothing from him. I feel the lump of sorrow firm in my throat, and before I can stop myself, I whisper, "but why?" The weakness I let seep into the words disgusts me. I can't afford to be weak in this marriage.

His icy eyes stare into my watery ones. Stupid tears. 

"It's not who I am."

Rage fills where the sorrow sat a moment ago. "I have been damned to an eternity of misfortune. I don't understand what I did to deserve this."

Refusing to show this vulnerability, I practically run from the room.

I walk past the doors to the other bedrooms of Grimmauld place, finding mine— ours . Collapsing on the bed, I let myself tear up completely. 

I hate it here, and I can't think of any way to get out of it. Nothing can fix this— this mistake of a marriage.

Wiping the tears from my eyes, I look up at the heavy canopy. I don't know how I'll survive this marriage; at least my sanity won't survive. How anyone can live in this dreary home is beyond me.

***

Regulus paces the room, not expecting an argument from her. (y/n) had been so... docile the entire night they spent together. Nothing could've prepared for him to hear her frustrated words or her claim that she possibly wanted anything from him.

And her quiet "but why"... he nearly lost his cool at the broken sound of (y/n)'s voice. He hadn't expected her to be so… emotional.

Despite their marriage being arranged, his wife clearly came in with the hope she could grow to love him. And she seemed to hope that he could love her as well.

If he had any idea how to be in love, he would try for her. But… it's complicated. Even with the bonding spell between couples like them, he doubts he can act as she wishes.

Maybe he could act it , but that's not fair to (y/n). 

Regulus knew that it would be much crueler to pretend to love her when he truly did not.

***

(y/n) doesn't accompany him to dinner. Walburga and Orion don't comment, but he can tell that they are curious to know why their daughter-in-law wasn't present. 

When he makes his way to their room, he isn't surprised that she doesn't turn around to greet him.

For a moment, he watches her as she sits at her vanity. She is a rather pretty girl, he muses. He supposes he should be appreciative to have such a beautiful wife. But, unfortunately, not many men in these marriages could say they were attracted to their wives.

He's about to approach her when she speaks.

"I want a child." 

Regulus's mouth goes dry, " You do ?" 

(Y/n) turns around in her vanity chair, "I do."

"Where-- did this come from?"

"Is this not why we married?"

Regulus crosses his arms across his chest, "that's beside the point."

"It's not! This is why marriages like ours take place!" She gets up close and personal to him, "that's why your parents chose me for you. So I would have your children and continue your line ."

He doesn't argue with her because she isn't wrong.

"We don't need a child now."

She laughs bitterly, "You'll deny me this as well?" 

"I'm not— denying you anything."

"You have no right to say no to me, Regulus Black."

"We've been married for less than a week."

"The sooner, the better." She echoes his own words.

Regulus sighs, running a hand through his hair. This is the last conversation he wants to have at 10 P.M.

"We are not having a child right now. That's final."

She gets back up in his face, "We will see about that." (y/n) moves around him towards the door.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm sleeping elsewhere." He almost snorts at the irony of her leaving the room when she's all but declared she could seduce him into giving her the child she wants.

Instead, he grabs her arm before she can leave, "you stay here. I'll leave."

"I am perfectly capable of sleeping in a different room."

"Stay here," he gives her a serious look.

(Y/n) looks away from him, pulling her arm free, "fine."

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝑵𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓 𝑹𝒂𝒊𝒏 (𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝑴𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒊) 𝑹𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐢 (𝐀𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳)× 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞)

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.4K

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐇𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐲𝐞𝐭 𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐨. 𝐇𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐦, 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞. 𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐡𝐞'𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐦.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬, 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐩𝐬, 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 (𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐞), 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐬𝐞𝐦𝐢- 𝐮𝐧𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠.

𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐚𝐢𝐧- 𝐆𝐮𝐧𝐬 𝐍' 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐬/ 𝐅𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲- 𝐉𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐲

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @little-precious-baby @yunhoiseyecandy @yunhofingers @brie02 @deja-vux @rvse-miingi @multidreams-and-desires @galaxteez

◈◈◈⊰──────⊱◈◈◈⊰──────⊱◈◈◈

Waving enthusiastically at the crowd cheering loudly at the end of their performance, Mingi's eyes were scanning each and every one of the sections in the auditorium. To anyone it would seem as though he was making sure to shine his beautiful and radiant smile to all the adoring fans that came to watch and support him and his members, and yes that was partly why. But it wasn't just that. He had hope as he scanned every face in there. Hope of once again seeing her again. He could hear his own heartbeat pump against his ears, the sound drowning out all the chanting coming from the thousands of fans gathered in there.

Sensing what was going on, one of his members couldn't help but let out a sigh. Leaning in close enough so he could hear him, he whispered in his ear.

"She's not here Mingi."

He expected such words from his best friend, who although with good intentions, seemed to try to ground him back down to earth and inadvertently crush his hopes. But he never took it personally. He knew Yunho was only trying to look out for him and spare him more heartache. Nudging him slightly, the equally tall male swung an arm around Mingi's broad shoulders, plastering on a smile out to the crowd once more as he led them backstage as slowly the members started to walk off the stage as scheduled. Accepting that the night was over, Mingi pulled his face away from the crowd and began walking away. He would have ultimately called it another uneventful concert that ended the same way and just go back to change into his normal clothes and then join the rest of the group back at the hotel to lounge and rest.

But he felt a something strange, pulling and beckoning him to look back at the scatter of people behind him once more. Slowly, he tried his head, unsure of where to look exactly, eyes wandering around aimlessly. Until they spotted what he believed to be a familiar red scarf wrapped around a person's neck, effectively covering up the bottom half of their face while their head had a matching beret that covered their forehead entirely. Although he couldn't see much other than their body frame, he felt his heart swell up, legs unable to move as he stared at the figure. Yunho stopped when he felt Mingi no longer walking behind him. Walking back to him, he put on a smile so as to not act suspicious and began pulling him away.

"Mingi..we have to go."

But Mingi stayed grounded, still scanning the figure he had locked his eyes on. The person began walking away, almost as if they didn't even acknowledge him.

"Wait hold on-"

Just as he was about to run off the stage and follow them, Yunho harshly tugged on his arm and fiercely guided him backstage, waving out towards the people still watching them so as to not arouse suspicion or have them think something was wrong.

"Mingi, it's not her. You always swear it is but it's not."

Yunho didn't mean to sound so aggressive towards his long life friend, but he cared about him too much and didn't want him getting false illusions that would only end up in him getting more hurt than what he already was.

"I know but it's different! Yunho she was wearing the scarf I gave her. I know it was it!" He insisted, anxiously looking towards the door, debating whether or not he could make a dash and catch up to the individual.

Shaking his head, Yunho placed his hands on top of his friend's shoulders.

"Mingi.....there's a million red scarfs out there. And you were too far away. Honestly I think....."

He hesitated before speaking his next words, knowing how sensitive Mingi got with the topic.

"Forget about her."

As if on instinct, Mingi shook his head.

"No! I can't. I promised I'd wait for her and I'm not breaking my word. I'll stay faithful to it until she comes back."

"But what if she doesn't?! It's been over two years Mingi! Face the facts. She's not coming back. Y/N never loved-"

"Don't say that! She did- she does love me! I know she does!"

Yunho took a step back. Seeing Mingi become so agitated and frustrated like that truly terrified him. It was always dangerous to have him get mad or overly worked up. Sensing that he probably startled his friend a little too much, Mingi ran a hand over his dyed blonde hair, a despondent sigh coming out his mouth.

"Hey Yunho I'm sorry..... I think.... I need some air."

After changing into his normal clothes, Mingi didn't get in the van like most of the other guys who just wanted to go relax back at the hotel, nor did he follow Wooyoung or Hongjoong to go check out some of the nearby stores. He simply walked in the opposite direction, mindlessly strolling the streets of the unfamiliar city he was currently in. The slight rumbling of the skies and the subtle scent of dew signaled that it was more than likely going to start pouring rain soon. Even though he was wearing one of his long trenchcoat, the slight breeze that blew across sent tiny chills down his spine, nearly making his teeth chatter.

As if it were a beacon, Mingi stumbled across a small and cozy looking coffee shop. Making sure it was still open, he cheerfully greeted the sweet looking old woman behind the counter, who seemed to brighten up at seeing such a handsome young lad at such an hour. Very calmly and politely, he ordered just a simple caramel cappuccino, which the owner was delighted to whip up for him. Just as he took out his wallet to pay, he had a weird inkling feeling for some reason.

"Uh..... do you perhaps sell hot cocoa?" He inquired nervously.

After getting confirmation that they indeed made hot chocolate, Mingi asked if there was any possible way they could add peppermint to it. He could already feel the judgmental stare about to be given to him as most baristas did with such an unpopular request. Although she seemed surprised by the special addition of peppermint, she didn't hesitate to assure him she'd definitely make it as he liked. Mingi felt so grateful to the kind lady, making sure to leave her a generous tip before taking both of his drinks and going back outside.

Spotting a nearby gazebo, Mingi went over and sat down on one of the benches that were placed underneath the roof of it. Setting the hot mint chocolate down next to him, he sipped his cappuccino slowly, being careful not to burn his tongue on the scorching hot liquid. It had the perfect amount of foam in it, with not too much caramel added in it so the strong espresso could still be made out. Wiping off some of the froth that accidentally got on the tip of his nose, he peered down at the untouched drink next to him. Chuckling dryly to himself, he picked up the cup and scanned it with deep curiosity.

"You always were so different and unique." He mused to himself.

Putting it back down, he began to think it was absolutely silly to have bought it just because of some momentary whim he felt back in the coffee shop.

Or was it nostalgia?

Mingi began to believe it was the latter, especially considering what month it was. After all, it was during this exact same time 2 years ago, on a cold and gloomy November where everything started...

Or perhaps ended?

   ◈◈◈⊰──────⊱◈◈◈⊰──────⊱◈◈◈

Exhausted panting came from all 8 of the sweaty bodies of the males in the room, about half of them were already reaching for their water bottles to gulp down the contents before proceeding to try catching their breath once more. The strict yet kind eyes watching them announced they would be taking a break before saying they'd be rehearsing for another hour or two. Simultaneous groans and protests were elicited by the members, who were already tired from thinking about burning a few more calories with their intense dance sessions.

"Looks like I'm missing the new episode of aot." San dramatically layed on the floor, arms sprawled out.

"I'm calling first dibs on the shower when we get back." Seonghwa declared, not afraid of using his status as the oldest member if it meant getting himself cleaned.

"Aww Hyung! You take showers that are way too long! You'll finish all the hot water like last time." Woow already began nagging, which in turn started another argument between his both of them, with San and Yunho joining in to offer backup if necessary.

Ignoring their pointless bantering, Mingi took the time to call up his girlfriend to let her know. It took quite some time for her to pick up his call, it had actually become a rather recent and constant habit of hers, contrary to before when she'd immediately answer on the second ring.

"What?" Her voice sounded somewhat annoyed and tired, which Mingi guessed had something to do with her work.

"Hey baby, looks like I'm going to be staying late at the company for practice. I'm sorry, I really wanted to spend time with you, but I'm not sure it's possible." He could feel his heart pounding as he began imagining her disappointed and disheartened look.

As expected, he heard her sigh through the other end, a brief pause where he only heard her breathing before she finally spoke up.

"That's fine. I'm going to be pulling extra hours today anyways so....don't be sorry. Maybe it works out in the end."

Mingi noticed how dry and monotone she sounded, as if it didn't really bother her that this would yet be another week where they hardly spoke and spent time together for more than 10 minutes.

"Oh ok....take care then, and remember to eat a snack in between hours ok? I don't want you starving yourself ok baby?"

The girl on the other end of the line didn't need to see him to know he was more than likely pouting at her as usual, always fussing to her about her health.

"Ok. Take care Mingi."

"Y/N!.............."

He bit his lip before saying the next words.

"I- I love you." Although he forced a smile on his face, his voice trembled with fear at saying that.

"I....I know. I gotta go."

Once more, she hung up without repeating those same words back to him. Mingi didn't understand why his girlfriend of forever seemed to be acting strange. Lately she hardly had anything to say, she looked less and less animated each time they video chatted, the dark circles under her eyes were becoming more prominent and judging by the way her cheeks looked a little sunken and clothes looked baggy on her, he fussed she was not eating properly.

But the thing that scared Mingi the most was seeing her soulless eyes. Those eyes that once held the entire stars in them, were now empty and completely void of any emotion. She never initiated any form of physical contact with him, it was always him pulling her into an embrace or placing a kiss on her head, nose or lips, and even when she reciprocated them, they were always cold and almost robotic.

It was starting to terrify him.

"Mingi!"

He nearly dropped his phone when the tiny leader called out to him.

"Break time is over. We gotta start again."

Putting his phone back in his bag he promised himself that even if he left at early dawn, he would go over and see his lover. He just had to.

◈◈◈⊰──────⊱◈◈◈⊰──────⊱◈◈◈

Letting out a long and exasperated sigh, Y/N kicked off her heels and left them on the front of the door, her toes aching after all the grueling and arduous hours of both sitting and running up and down floors. Her once neat bun now had various hairs poking out from several places and was now drooping lower than in the morning. She slumped her tired body over to her bedroom, ready to just indulge in a warm shower and then head to bed. But the last thing she expected to see when she turned on the light, was none other than her boyfriend.

"Hey." He waved his hand at her, a soft smile on his lips.

She was momentarily confused with his presence.

"I thought you had practice." She raised an eyebrow, her tone sounding more accusatory than with delight.

"I did...but then I came over here." He explained.

"Why?"

Mingi blinked at her question, stunned that she would even ask why. Getting up from the bed, he slowly walked over to her cautiously. Once he was right in front of her, he reached a hand out to caress her cheek.

"Why? I naturally wanted to see you.....hear you...touch you."

Arms wrapping around her waist, he lowered his face until he pressed a soft kiss to her mildly chapped lips. Although he felt her give in after a while, he could feel that her heart was not in it. Every brush of her lips felt extremely languid and emotionless, even after he had turned a little more desperate and began to trail messy kisses across her jaw, her hands did not move away from her sides, her head only tilting to allow him more access to her skin. Before he could move to pull off her shirt, she stopped him by gripping his wrists.

"If you don't mind I'd like to clean myself off first."

Not even giving him a chance to say anything, she pushed past him and made a beeline to the bathroom. Shutting the door behind her, she leaned her back on it, staring into the floor for a few minutes in a somewhat catatonic state. Taking a deep breath, she slowly removed each one of the articles of clothing on her body, all of them feeling like a heavy weight on her. Ripping the scrunchie off her hair, she tossed it onto the floor so it could join the pile that had already been made in a corner. Sliding the glass door open, she got inside the shower and quickly turned on the water, first the splashes coming out at an almost freezing temperature, which although her body shivered at, she did not shrink away from. Then the water finally adjusted to a more warm temperature, not too hot but warm enough to soothe her sore muscles.

Closing her eyes, she decided to simply bask in the warmth of the water coating her body, shutting off her mind from all the spiraling thoughts that had been clouding her mind for the past weeks, refusing to go away and seemingly taunting her at every hour when she least expected it. She hurt, she was in pain yet there were no physical evidence of it. She could barely eat more than 2 bites of any meal she intook because it suddenly felt too full. At nights, her eyes drooped heavy with sleep, yet her restless mind wouldn't allow her even one full hour of sweet slumber though that's all she wanted.....

She just wanted to fall asleep and hopefully never wake up so as to not feel the pain and emptiness she felt.

So lost was she in the moment that she failed to hear or notice the one individual coming in to join her until she felt familiar hands come to wrap themselves around her waist.

"It's all right love. It's just me." Mingi softly whispered when she gasped lightly at the sudden touch.

Letting her relax under his touch before doing anything else, Mingi's fingers slowly began drawing circles around her hips as he kept his face buried in her neck. Inhaling deeply, he could make out her unique scent that his senses had committed to memory, but could also faintly discern a somewhat different odor that he had never before detected on her before. It was slightly off-putting to him, but he opted for brushing it off. After all, she worked with several people at her job.

Slowly, he began peppering kisses along her shoulder, which seemed to trigger deep and blissful sighs to exude from her nose. His hands moved up to cup around her breasts, kneading at her soft skin while the thumbs grazed over her sensitive nubs in a careful motion. Soft moans poured out from her mouth. Tilting her head back, she reached a hand up to bring her lover's face to hers so she could kiss him. Her moans were now being eaten up by his mouth and tongue as his fingers stroked between her legs, probing at her folds and rubbing at her clit. Pulling apart to catch her breath, Y/N looked up at Mingi with longing and desperation.

"Please....more." She begged at him.

Prying her folds open, he carefully inserted two of his slender and long fingers inside her, her walls practically sucking him in. She felt so tight around him, her walls hugging and clenching all around his fingers. Y/N threw her head back against his shoulder as she began grinding against his hand, savoring as she was finally feeling something, anything in a long time. Her hand had moved to pet at his head, her fingers brushing away his now damp hair in gentle caresses. Wanting to see, feel him more, she removed his hand away from her mound and firmly pressed him towards one of the walls, where she then began to kiss him hungrily and in subtle anguish.

Mingi just allowed her to take control for that moment, his heart lightening up at finally getting some reaction from her. He let her take a hold of his erect cock and pump him slowly as her mouth sucked on several patches of skin on his neck to leave tiny blotches across it. He missed this, he missed being intimate with her and missed having her touch him, not to fulfill any sexual yearning, but to be close to her. He always saw these tender and passionate moments as a display of their love and bond.

Soon the water had been turned off and both of their dripping bodies were fumbling out and landing on top of the bed. Mingi hissed softly as he watched his beautiful girlfriend sink down and his length.

"Fuck. It's been too long."

Sitting up, he wrapped his arms around her, wanting to be as close as possible as he began to roll his hips up. Wanting to take his time, Mingi took one of her supple breasts and stuffed it in his mouth, giving it various light suckles and then adding a few kisses onto it. Y/N began panting and moaning uncontrollably, so many emotions rushing through her all at once. It seemed as if all that time of not feeling anything had left her somewhat numb to emotions that now she was beginning to feel overwhelmed by all the ones that were hitting her now:

Love, lust, passion, anger, fury, agony, guilt, one by one they all crashed into her head and heart. It was becoming too much for her and it began to scare her somewhat. But she didn't want them to stop, she wanted to cling onto those emotions just a little longer, no matter what or how. She hadn't even realized her hands had placed themselves on Mingi's broad shoulders, holding her steady as she began to bounce herself on top of him, slow tears trickling down her cheeks as muffled cries of desperation were being choked back and bitten back by her lips. Her fear of not feeling anymore soon turned to rage, and it was manifesting itself as she fucked herself on her boyfriend, who by now had noticed the change in her mood.

Mingi tried to grip her hips down, but she didn't seem to care and tried to push his hands away. His calling out to her fell upon deaf ears as she swatted his hands, tat were trying to steady her, away. Finally, he firmly held her wrists and kept her from moving as he forced her to look at him.

"Y/N!" He sharply exclaimed, breaking her out of her trance.

Feeling her body starting to shake, Y/N looked away in shame, her eyes threatening to spill out more tears.

"Baby, look at me, what's wrong?" Mingi gently cupped her chin.

Not meaning to be so mean, but Y/N brushed his hand away and began to climb off him.

"I'm sorry.... I'm so sorry."

Getting up, she ransacked her drawer and pulled out some clothes and dressed herself in an inhumane speed.

"Honey, we can talk about it-" Mingi tried to touch her once more but she pulled away once more.

"I don't want to talk about it! Please! I just want to go to bed."

Marching over to the closet, she grabbed some spare pillows and a blanket.

"I'm sleeping on the couch." She firmly stated, not about to let herself be dissuaded from her resolution.

"Y/N, please don't do this. Stop shutting me out."

With one final attempt, Mingi grabbed her shoulder and turned her arousal to face him, eyes intently searching and scanning every inch of her face for a clue as to what was bothering her.

"Talk to me love, you know you can."

Y/N opened her mouth, about to spill what was on her heart, but ultimately decided against it.

"I can't.....I'm sorry. Just please....let me be for now."

Mingi's hands fell to his sides in defeat as he watched the most important person in his life leave him there, alone. He hated this, hated having her become so distant from him. He could feel it in his heart that sooner or later she was going to snap and hurt his heart, probably more than what he was imagining.

But he was ready for that moment.

◈◈◈⊰──────⊱◈◈◈⊰──────⊱◈◈◈

Having gotten absolutely no sleep that night, Y/N ended up getting up just hours before the sun was supposed to rise. Making sure to make as little noise as possible, she made sure to bundle up since it was chilly outside. She looked over at the peaceful and sleeping figure of her boyfriend, who was softly letting out subtle snores as his hands clutched around a pillow, holding onto it as if his life depended on it. He could never fully call asleep unless he was holding something, that something always being her. She could make out a faint wet patch on his pillow where his cheek rested, tell tale sign that he had been crying the night before, just as she had done.

With a kiss to his forehead, she left the house and headed out, her destination still unclear. She just walked wherever her legs led her to, whether conscious or unconsciously. There was hardly a soul around to keep her company on that lonely and cold morning walk in the autumn breeze. Her teeth were chattering inside her mouth whenever a rather blunt force of air swooped past her, making her lick her lips as she felt them drying up even more.

Without realizing it she had come across a small and serene park, a trail specifically used for early joggers right in front of her. Following the trail, she kept her head down as she slowly strolled through the immense trees surrounding her. The golden and garnet hued leaves were scattered about all around the semi dead grass, some of it blowing through the air. She paid no attention to them though, she paid no attention at all to her surroundings. She couldn't feel anything anyways, even the cold air was becoming numb to her at this point.

"Mind if I join you?"

She halted in her steps when a low voice spoke from behind her. She didn't need to see him to know who he was.

"How'd you know I was here?" She questioned him without turning around still.

"Lucky guess."

Moving in front of her, Mingi's tall figure loomed over hers, studying her mood which right now seemed apathetic and melancholic. Standing there all quiet for a brief moment, Mingi was the one who decided to break the ice.

"I love you, you know that right?"

Without even batting an eye, Y/N slowly nodded. Expecting that reaction, Mingi chuckled dryly.

"You know it's been a while since I've heard you respond at all to me saying that...."

Once more, she had no expression on her face, hardly even blinking as she stared right through him, almost as if he wasn't there. But she was listening to him, and he knew it too. Brushing some hair behind her ear, Mingi let out a deep sigh.

"Y/N...... I know you're not ok. I don't know how or what it is you're feeling, but I want you to know that I'm here for you. Maybe you should go see a therapist, a doctor, I don't know. We'll find out what's wrong so you-"

"Mingi I don't know what I feel for you anymore."

He felt as if a knife had been plunged at his chest. Although he expected her to say something that would hurt him, he still wasn't fully ready to hear those words.

"Just 2 months ago you said and thought differently. Back then you always told me you loved me and cherished me." He kindly reminded her.

"Maybe feelings change." She bluntly stated.

"Yes they do which is why I don't believe you when you say you don't feel anything for me anymore. I know my Y/N, I know the girl I fell in love with and I know that these past weeks, seeing how you're acting.......that's not you."

She didn't move away when he cupped her cheeks.

"I know you still love me, I can see it in your eyes. Your love is just restrained right now. Just give it time. Trust me."

Choking back tears, Y/N finally made eye contact with him.

"Just end it Mingi. I don't have the heart to do it, so please just end things with me. Don't hold onto me anymore. Move on with your life and find someone who can love you like you deserve to be loved."

Mingi immediately shook his head, that being an option he was not accepting.

"Baby, do you need some time on your own? Some time alone? I can give you that. Maybe that way it'll be good for you to use that time to get help and-"

"Mingi I cheated on you." She confessed.

His body stood frozen in place at her admittance, yet he was not shocked at all. The weird scent he detected on her and the way she sometimes recoiled from his touch as if guilt ate her alive, he always had that thought on the back of his head.

"So you fell in love with someone else?"

Y/N let out a sob.

"No.......absolutely not. It meant nothing and I just did it because I wanted to feel something, anything and he was right there. But that's no excuse and I'm sorry Mingi. I'm sorry I'm not the girlfriend you deserve. You deserve so much better than me. Someone who's not broken, foolish and dead already. So please..."

Her hands came up to hide her face as she began crying like she hadn't done in a long time.

"Just forget about me....."

Even if she didn't want it, Mingi embraced her, holding her tightly as she tearfully spilled her heart and emotions out. His heart ached for her. She was suffering, emotionally and mentally she was in pain and she didn't even want to admit it. He couldn't force her to get help, but he couldn't just leave her like that. It would tear him apart if he did. Stroking her hair, he waited until her sobbing and hyperventilating had calmed down before saying anything.

"Y/N.....you need some time alone. We....need some time alone. And I'm willing to give you as much time as you need to heal. But you have to promise me that you'll get help. It's not fair for you to keep living this way. You deserve to be happy."

Pulling back, he used his thumbs to brush away some of the tears off her cheeks.

"But this doesn't mean I'm ending things nor forgetting about you. This is only a break until you're all better and ready to come back to me."

Y/N stared at him in disbelief.

"Song Mingi, you're an even bigger idiot than I thought you were."

He giggled softly at that.

"I'm an idiot who loves you and will always love you. And this idiot knows you still love me, even if your brain refuses to let you believe it now."

Pressing his forehead against hers, he shut his eyes to keep himself from crying.

"I'll be waiting for you until you come back to me....."

Taking off the red scarf that was hanging on his neck, he wrapped it around her neck and softly padded it on.

I know you'll be back."

◈◈◈⊰──────⊱◈◈◈⊰──────⊱◈◈◈

He left her with a final kiss on her lips and watched her walk away, disappearing from his life for about 2 years. Rain had begun to fall then just as it was falling in that moment. Picking up the untouched peppermint hot chocolate and discarding his cappuccino on a nearby trash bin, Mingi stepped out of the gazebo and began walking back to the hotel, not caring about getting soaked in the pouring rain. Perhaps it could help to mask the tears that were beginning to spill out from his eyes. He had never felt his longing for the person he still regarded as his soulmate so dearly as he felt right then and there. He felt as if his oxygen was being caught off, his hope was beginning to dwindle, all the words his friends would often say to him were revolving around his head.

Were they right? Should he stop waiting for her? Was he wrong? Should he just move on?

He was startled out of his thoughts when he heard someone open an umbrella behind him, the person hovering it over him so the rain wouldn't hit him anymore. He felt his heart beating harshly against his chest, some overpowering sensation telling him to turn around, which he slowly began to do. The first thing his eyes caught was the familiar red scarf tied to the person's neck. He recognized it immediately. And when he looked up at the face that was looking back at him, he no longer had any doubts left.

"Y/N...." He whispered out.

Through tears in her eyes, she smiled at him, not a fake nor cold one, but a genuine and heart warming smile, just like the one she had plastered on her face when they first met each other.

"Hey Mingi. How are you?" She asked.

"I...I'm fine. ....how are you?" They both knew what he was referring to.

"I'm a lot better actually. Taking medication still sucks but I'm a lot better and happier now. My therapist has been working with me all this time so...yeah.." She seemed a little awkward talking about it, but Mingi wasn't going to push her.

"I'm glad, I truly am happy for you."

Looking back at the cup in his hand, he held it out to her.

"It's probably not hot anymore, but it's your favorite."

Y/N was surprised that he even had or remembered what her favorite was. Taking a small sip, she couldn't help the tiny grin spreading on her cheeks.

"It's perfect. I never liked it super hot either way."

They both chuckled at that known fact between them. Soon there was another silence between them, and once again it was Mingi who broke it. Brushing some hair away from her face, he stared into her eyes.

"I love you."

Looking up at him, her eyes no longer void nor cold, but instead full of life and love, Y/N answered back.

"I love you too."

Unable to hold himself back, Mingi held her tightly, overwhelmed with emotions as he finally held the love of his life in his arms once more.

"I knew you'd come back to me...."

◈◈◈⊰──────⊱◈◈◈⊰──────⊱◈◈◈

[marsofaries]

Noticing You {Bakugou Katsuki x Reader}

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Cursing (its Bakugou lmao)

Summary: You thought he didn’t see you. That’s just when he started to notice you.

Notes: fem!Reader, shy!kind!Reader, Fluff, like a smidge of angst, happy ending

You weren’t quite sure when it started... or why. It was your hyper-awareness for the one and only Bakugou Katsuki. He was, at first glance, just an overconfident jerk who couldn’t control his temper. But, that wasn’t truly him. Or at least you thought so.

He was kind. Not in the conventional kind of way— nothing about him was conventional. But you watched as he would leave a cup of coffee in the morning for Kaminari, claiming he had made too much. Or how he would place a blanket over Mina when she fell asleep in the common room. Or how he would stay up late just to play video games with Kirishima and Sero, even though he just complained the whole time.

Each little action just proved to you that he was different from what others thought.

Not only was he kind, but he was funny. You loved the little nicknames he gave everyone, laughing every time they came from his mouth. You never interacted with Bakugou, so sadly you didn’t have one. You often wondered what it would be.

And don’t forget that he was attractive! You couldn’t understand how people forgot this little fact. Yes he had a temper, but goddamn was he was fine. His soft blond spikes, his volcanic red eyes, and his taunt yet lean muscles. Everything just screamed ‘Greek God’ right at you.

Still, you knew he would never really see you. You might as well as have Hagakure’s quirk. You were quiet, always keeping to yourself. Quite like Todoroki, in a way. Although you smiled more, always trying to make each class member feel worthy of themselves. Some called you the “class therapist” which you thought was hilarious. It was derived from the fact that you always listened to what your comrades had to say, letting them rant about their problems and often giving reassuring advice.

“Stop! You’re going to make me have to have a therapy session with (Y/L/N)-chan.” Kaminari pouted from across the common room. You were observing Bakugou, as usual, hiding behind a thick book and a wool blanket on the couch. You knew that it would probably be seen as creepy, but you didn’t think it was like that. It was kind of like reading a book, how you spectate over the character and the story, becoming apart of the adventure— whether you were in the book or not.

Your head popped up at the mention at your name, having spaced out. It was a bad habit of your’s.

“Who the fuck is that?” Bakugou yelled, smacking the back of the electric boy’s head. A small huff of amusement escaped you. You knew he didn’t see you.

“Dude! She’s right there.” Kaminari hissed, digging an elbow into Bakugou’s side. Vermillion eyes darted to yours, and your heart skipped a beat. A soft smile adorned your face as you gave him a gentle wave. A small blush brushed over your cheekbones, not liking being the center of attention. You glanced back down at your book, curling your fingers tightly around the edges.

“See! She’s cute, right?” Denki shouted excitedly, quickly followed by an ‘oof’ noise. You assumed that he got punched.

~~~~

You pulled your hand back under the roof, pouting lightly. It was raining... and it didn’t seem that it was going to stop very soon.

It was the end of the school day and class had ended a couple of hours ago. You were scouring the library shelves for a new book, staying longer that you intended. And now you were stuck here, unless you wanted to get soaked getting to the dorms.

You decided to walk around a bit, exploring the empty halls of the school. Wandering aimlessly, you had found that the school had a swimming pool, an anime club, and even an indoor tennis court. You peered out the window and huffed. It was still pouring.

Sighing, you peeked your head into another door, looking for a nice place to curl up and read your newest book. Your breath caught in your throat as your froze in the frame of the double doors. A massive gym greeted you, as well as one completely unaware Bakugou Katsuki.

The explosive blond was going to town on a worn punching bag, drops of sweat rolling down his tanned neck. You watched in some sort of flustered awe as the muscles of his arms tensed and contracted while his eyebrows furrowed in determination. This boy was truly gorgeous.

Not wanting to be caught, you slowly took a step back, yet squeaked as your hip bumped the frame of the door. As if that wasn’t enough, two of the theee book you had clutched to your chest slipped from your grasp, thudding loudly against the floor.

You dropped to your knees immediately— hoping, praying that by some miracle Bakugou hadn’t heard you. Maybe his music was loud enough...

“What the fuck are you doing here?” A sudden shout rang out, causing your head to snap up.

“Oh... hi, Bakugou-kun.” You stated shyly from your spot on the floor. You refused to look at him, keeping your eyes solely on the books you had just gathered. Bakugou fell silent, and you used that opportunity to get back to your feet.

You glanced back up to him, a light blush on your face. You weren’t the only one. Bakugou’s face had a slight flush— his hand gripping the fabric of his shirt tightly, right over his chest.

“Um, I’m sorry— I didn’t mean to bother you. I was, uh, just wandering around, because— you know, the rain, and....” You rambled on, gesturing softly towards the windows. A grunt of understanding interrupted you, making you look back at the blond. The blond that you had a crush on.

“You don’t have an umbrella.” Bakugou stated, staring out towards the pouring rain. He ran a hand through his hair roughly, turning away to hide the heat in his cheeks.

You watched in confusion as Bakugou ruffled though a plain black duffel bag.

“Catch.”

You yelped as you shot a hand towards the flying object, hoping not to drop it.

It was a little red umbrella. Your heart skipped a beat.

“But what about you?” You looked up in concern, keeping eye contact for the first time since your meeting. You didn’t want Bakugou to be out in the rain, especially if he could catch a cold.

“I’ll be fine.” He answered gruffly, placing his earbuds back where they belong. You sighed, knowing that it wasn’t up for debate.

“Thank you.” You whispered with a red face and a pounding heart, even though you knew he wouldn’t hear you.

~~~

Something felt off.

Since the moment you stepped into that classroom, it felt like you were being watched. It wasn’t uncomfortable— or anything like that... just... off. You shrugged it off as you just being crazy.

You had left the umbrella at Bakugou’s door last night, as well as a little ‘thank you’ note. You hoped the hearts weren’t too much.

Pulling a book out on your desk, you jumped into your latest story. It was about a prince of magic, lost in a pre-quirk Earth. The prince had just landed when a small nudge to your shoulder startled you.

Your eyes were quick to find Yaoyorozu and Hagakure in front of you, small giggles errupting from the latter.

“Oh, hello girls!” You smiled, not at all displeased from being pulled from your book. You brushed a lock of your hair behind your ear, curious of the sudden interruption.

“Don’t look now, (Y/L/N)-chan, but—”

“Bakugou has been staring at you for the past ten minutes!” Hagakure squealed, interupping Yaoyorozu.

“I just wanted to warn you, in case you did something to make him mad—”

“Momo-Chan! Are you blind? Those are eyes of love!” Hagakure sang. You watched in confusion as the two continued to argue, wondering what in the world they were talking about.

Your eyes drifted over to the said blond, freezing as a vermillion stare immediately pinned you down. The girls were correct— you were being stared at. Bakugou’s eyes were shamelessly boring into your’s, making a deep flush crawl up your neck. He didn’t look angry perhaps— but confused, calculating. What threw you off, however, was the light blush kissing the top of his tanned cheeks.

Your eyes immediately flashed back down to your book, heart beating a million miles per minute. What was going on? Oh, how you wished your quirk was telepathy.

“I’m telling you! It’s looooovvve!”

~~~

A light breeze ruffled your jacket, making you pull it closer to your body. It was a Saturday evening, and you were just grateful for the break in training. Aizawa-sensei had been tougher than usual, and you were sure your muscles were about to give out.

You decided that a light walk around the town would be nice, reveling in the perfectly cool weather. A slight rumble emitted from your stomach, making you let out a small laugh. A small stop wouldn’t hurt.

Aoki’s. You heard of that place! It was Bakugou’s favorite place to get spicy curry. You distinctly remember, because it was one of your first times truly seeing him. Your only thought at the time was ‘of course Bakugou likes spicy food.’

Still, your mind had cataloged that moment, and here you were walking straight up to the counter.

Walking out with two spicy curries in hand (one with extra peppers), your brain hit a snag. You had ordered Bakugou some without even thinking about it. How would you give it to him? You weren’t even considered friends. What if he already ate? Would he think you were stalking him?

These meddling thoughts brought you all the way back to the dorm, still devoid of any solution. It’s not like you never surprised your friends with little gifts. Just last week you had given Midoriya a little All Might keychain. But this was different. Bakugou was your crush. Plus, you only spoke to him once!

At this point, you were thinking of just throwing the extra box in the fridge, maybe put a note with his name on it. Sighing, you opened the door, a sour expression on your face. It sucked having social anxiety.

“Hey, (Y/L/N)-chan!”

You yelped at the sudden greeting, confronted with a cheeky Ashido.

“Oh, hello.” You smiled, a bit surprised.

“Whatcha doing?” Mina questioned, dragging you in by your free arm. You yelped at the sudden tug, being pulled all the way over to the pair of couches in the common room.

“Ah, well— nothing important. Do you need anything, Ashido-chan?” You stuttered as you were dragged along. Mina had always been a bit.... enthusiastic, but you didn’t mind.

“Well, we were wondering—” Mina gestured over to the seats, and that’s when you took notice of your classmates. “—if you’ll hang out with us?”

The Bakusquad were all spread out, snack and sodas littered amongst the floor. You heart skipped a beat as you caught sight of the object of your affections grumbling angrliy to Kaminari.

“I’d—”

“Can’t your raccoon eyes see that she was going to eat?” Bakugou suddenly cut you off, glaring hastily at the girl beside you. You watched in confusion as Kirishima and Sero shared knowing looks.

“Ah, it’s okay, Bakugou-kun! Well... I— mean, unless you don’t want me to, then I—”

“OI, WHEN THE FUCK DID I SAY THAT?” The blond sneered, avoiding eye contact with you. You looked down at your shoes, a small smile engraved on your lips. He was such a tsundere.

“Oooo, (Y/N)-chan! Is that two takeout boxes? You don’t have a secret boyfriend, do you?” Sero drew out mischievously. You watched in confusion as Bakugou suddenly tensed.

“Wha— no I don’t!” You vigorously denied, a deep blush on your face.

“Oh, she so does!” Kaminari yelled, throwing an elbow into Bakugou’s side. “Who is it? Tokoyami? Ojiro?”

“Oh, maybe Todoroki?” Mina chimed in. You sputtered noncoherently, desperately trying to clear up the misunderstanding. One, it was embarrassing. Two, you didn’t see your classmates (besides Bakugou) that way. Three, you didn’t want your crush to be thinking that you already had a significant other.

“Hey guys, I don’t think it’s very manly to—”

“Midoriya?” Sero yelled, adding to the chaos. You were feverently throwing your hands around, desperately trying to get them to stop. Also, you didn’t think Bakugou liked how loud they were being, judging by the silent, murderous glare.

“Ah shit, it must a girlfriend then!” Kaminari exclaimed, eliciting a laugh from the other three of the squad.

“No! It’s for Bakugou!” You suddenly exclaimed, tired of their teasing. The room immediately went silent as your word vomit sunk in. Crap.

If your face wasn’t on fire before... it was now.

“...What?”

The question came from the blond himself, his eyebrows up to his hairline. You shyly pulled the box marked ‘extra peppers’ out, sliding it gently across the coffee table.

“I, uh, saw Aoki’s, and I know it’s your favorite, and spicy curry is your favorite— always with extra peppers— with a side of rice,” You were talking and you couldn’t stop. Everything you said just stared to sound worse and worse— plainly laying your infactuation out in the open for all to see. “So, I got you some— but you don’t have to eat it! I should have asked— sorry.”

You reached to grab the box back, but it was snatched away before you could. Your eyes immediately flashed up to vermillion ones, surprised when you noted the flush along Bakugou’s tanned skin.

“Did I say I didn’t want it?” He scoffed, face a dark red.

“No.” You said softly, looking down at your fumbling fingers.

“Then I’ll take it!”

~~~

It’s been about a week since the little curry inscident, but no one said anything. You were suddenly so glad for your smart, yet extremely dense classmates. Or well, you hoped so. Everyday, scarlet eyes bore holes into your back... and everyday, your heart would beat a little faster.

Not only that, but the Bakusquad hung around you a lot more than usual. You were friends with about everyone in the class, but you weren’t really close with that friend group. For some ever reason, they decided to change that.

You walked down the halls, bag clutched in hand. Mina had told you that Kirishima had wanted to talk to you in the classroom. You weren’t sure what for, but you’d always listen if someone needed an ear. Her and Sero’s mischievous giggles were a little off putting, to be honest.

“Come on, dude! Just admit it! You are so whipped!” You heard a familiar cheery voice yell.

“Yeah, man! Confessing would be so manly! I can see it now.” Another person said, followed by a dramatic sniffle. You were hella confused now. Mina said Kirishima needed to talk to you? And now there was Kirishima, Kaminari, and another person.

“FUCK NO!” Oh, so the other person was Bakugou.

Wait... was Bakugou going to confess to someone?

You felt your heart immediately shatter, pulling your bag up to your chest. So he did have someone he liked. You could only bet how amazing they were. They would have to be the best. As soon as your crush had developed, you knew that your heart would end up in two. This was Bakugou you’re talking about. He was only focused on being number one. And if there was an off chance he developed a crush, it would have to be someone absolutely incredible.

Someone who wasn’t you.

Still, you forced a smile. You weren’t going to hold him back. You never would.

“Come on, man! I’m tired of see you googling (Y/L/N)-chan and grumbling about her all the time. Just ask her out already!”

You froze. The person Bakugou liked... was you?

Your face suddenly lit up, your heart beating faster than it ever had before.

Bakugou liked you.

Bakugou liked you.

Bakugou liked you.

Your face was million different shades of red, your fingers curled tight around your bag. What do you say? What do you do? Do you just... walk in there? Confess?

“SHUT UP, DUNCE-FACE! Even if I did confess— WHICH I WON’T, she wouldn’t even like me anyways..... she is her, and I’m, well, me.” Bakugou trailed off. Your heart broke. Never once had you ever heard Bakugou sound so... defeated. He sounded so unsure of himself. You hated it.

“Aw man, don’t be like that. We’re sure (Y/L/N)-chan likes you.” Kirishima said soothingly. You heard Bakugou scoff.

“Ah, the beast fell in love with the beauty. Poor (Y/L/N).” You heard Kaminari say, followed by a loud smack. “Dude! That hurt!”

You couldn’t help the small giggle that erupted from your lips. You loved your friends and their crazy antics.

Crap.

The three within the classroom went silent, having definitely heard your giggle. You yelped as the door was suddenly pulled open to reveal a smirking Kirishima, a smug-looking Kaminari, and an absolutely furious Bakugou Katsuki.

Your face burned at the sudden reveal, but you gave a gentle wave anyway.

“Well, we’re just gonna head out...” Kaminari trailed off, giving you a wink as he squeezed past you. Kirishima followed him, flashing you a blinding smile and a thumbs up. This left you all alone... with your crush... that likes you back.

“Hello, Bakugou-kun.” You mumbled shyly, eyes locked on his. His entire face was red and he kept clenching his fists over and over again. He was no doubt planning the murders of his friends for their little set-up.

“How long... How long were you just fucking standing there?” Bakugou snarled, doing everything to avoid eye-contact. Of course he had chosen to become angry. It was easier for him, than the molten embarrassment— that was no doubt bubbling in his chest.

You pulled at the strings of your bag, suddenly feeling embarrassed for him. “Um... since you started talking about your crush.”

“Of fucking course.” He growled, running a shaky hand threw his hair. “Of fucking course you heard it all... Look, just forget that shit, okay? I won’t be fucking weird or anything to you.”

You frowned and put your bag down, slowly walking up to him. He had his eyes on the floor, not seeing you approach.

“Hey...” You mumbled as you placed gentle hands on his cheeks. He jumped at the sudden sensation, his vermillion eyes darting to yours.

“Wha—”

“I like you, Bakugou. A lot. I have for awhile now.” You weren’t exactly sure why, but you felt confident. Maybe because you knew he liked you back, or maybe it was because he just seemed so shy in the moment. Whatever it was, you were grateful for it.

“You... you like me?” A small smile bloomed on the boy’s face, and your heart stuttered. You had never seen such a look on Bakugou’s face. It was gorgeous. “You like me!” He laughed.

Muscled arms suddenly wrapped around your waist, picking you up. You yelped at the suddenly lift, but it soon turned into a large laugh. Bakugou began spinning you around, a large crooked smile on his face.

“She fucking likes me!” He kept chanting as he twirled you around. You placed your hands lightly on the nape of his neck, smiling as you looked down at his face. Bakugou slowed to a stop, and gently lowered you back to the ground.

“You like me.” He grinned, all toothy and crooked. It was perfect.

“Yeah, I do.” You smiled, hands unmoving from his neck. Bakugou placed large hands on your waist, making sure to hold you flush against his chest.

“Of course you fucking do, I’m amazing.” He snorted.

You laughed at the sudden change of tone, looking deep into his entrancing, vermillion eyes. You gently curled your fingers into the soft blond at the nape of his neck, smiling brightly.

You liked Bakugou, and he liked you.

Suddenly, you were so glad to have noticed him.

[lastbluetardis]

Sacred New Beginnings (1/?)

Summary: James Noble thought he traded away his chance at love and a happy-ever-after when he signed a contract with a record label that turned him into an international celebrity. But a chance meeting in a dive bar may prove him wrong.

Ten x Rose AU, @doctorroseprompts

This Chapter: Teen, ~5500 words

Note: Er... surprise? This idea has been in my head for months but my brain took it and ran with it this weekend. I plotted the whole thing and am gonna try to update every weekend. I don’t anticipate this being more than like... 7-10 chapter? I’d love to keep it under 5 chapters but that might be trimming things down too much for my liking. Anyways, I really hope you enjoy this little story!

AO3

Flashing lights and shrieks of his name greet James the moment the back door to his armored car is opened. His head of security ducks out first and James can only see a mass of feet and legs but it’s more than enough to let him know it’s a heavier than usual crowd. Not surprising, considering the news of his latest break-up just dropped while he’d been flying back from a visit to America.

He slides out of the car, helped by hands that pull him as much as guide him through the throng. He ignores the shouts of his name—telling him to look left or right or up or down or every combination therein—and the barrage of questions and jokes that aren’t funny.

Was it you or him that ended it?

Three weeks, is that a new personal record?

Another notch in the bedpost, eh James?

Got another beau lined up yet?

If you’re looking for candidates, what do we have to do to get our names in the running?

“Ignore them,” he mutters to himself, too quietly for anyone except his security team to hear.

In answer, one of them gives his shoulder a reassuring squeeze as they reach his front door. Someone has already unlocked it for him and the darkness within is a blessing he’s all too willing to be shoved into. The cacophony muffles once the door shuts, and finally he’s alone, a rarity for him. If it’s not his security, it’s personal assistants and writers and producers and photographers and the paparazzi.

Or his lover of the month, as the papers have taken to calling his partners.

But nope, his home is empty and quiet and bloody freezing. A shiver ripples up his spine as he treads to the thermostat controller. Summer finally released its hold on London, and the muggy heat has been replaced with a damp chill that burrows down into his bones.

Several button-presses later, James hears the familiar clank of the radiator and he can smell the heating kick on. It’ll take a while for his house to warm up, so James keeps his peacoat on for the time being as he putters around his home, checking the fridge and the cabinets. As always, they’re well-stocked. He hasn’t had to do anything as mundane as grocery shopping in the five years since his YouTube channel full of acoustic covers of popular songs went viral and landed him a lucrative deal with a prestigious record label. Only in his wildest dreams had he expected to find fame and fortune in the hobby he loved so much—for it to have actually happened still took him by surprise, as though any minute he’d be told “it was fun while it lasted, but it’s time for you to leave wonderland now.”

Shaking his head of those thoughts, he goes to the antique dining table that can easily seat ten people, which is great for holidays or in-home meetings, but just plain depressing every other day of the year. A stack of mail has piled up, and he spends the next five minutes attempting to sort it before giving up and telling himself he’ll look at it in the morning, once he’s not quite as groggy—transatlantic flights always take it out of him.

Instead, he rootles around his fridge until he comes up with the necessary items to make himself a ham and cheese sandwich. With the prospect of food in front of him, James realizes he is starving. He shoves a whole slice of ham in his mouth while he assembles his pitiful meal, heaping on lettuce and sliced tomatoes as though that’s enough to negate the pile processed protein and greasy chips he layers in for crunch.

It’s tastier than any sandwich as a right to be, and he nearly makes himself a second one before catches sight of his phone screen and the slew of incoming notifications. His work is never finished, is it?

There are several texts from his publicist, Donna, welcoming him home and congratulating him on not making an arse of himself just by trying to walk up the front drive of his home. (To be fair, he felt entitled to channel his inner crotchety old man and tell reporters to get off his damn lawn if they encroached on his personal property.)

“Though some photos are surfacing of your trip to New York… Anything you need me to get ahead of?”

He rubs his fingers into his eyes, knowing she’s probably referring to his last night out in the city, where he went bar hopping until the wee hours of the morning to try to forget the text his subsequently-ex-boyfriend had sent him.

Thanks for everything, but I need to focus on my career. Cheers mate.

The career that James had kickstarted for him by introducing his rising actor boyfriend to several of his friends in the film industry, because James had been so damn desperate for affection that he’d once again let the wool get pulled in front of his eyes.

And so James had reached out to mates who lived in New York and they’d all gone out and acted half their age and had a wonderful time once James forgot about why he’d gone out in the first place.

But none of that now. Nope. No sir.

“Not that I’m aware of,” he replies. “Let me know if you catch wind of anything.”

Despite the fact that he only just got home and he’s jetlagged and still feeling the effects of his night out in New York, James can’t stay in his house right now. It’s so quiet that his brain is creating its own white noise. He can’t stand being in his head on a good day, and today is not a good day.

He grabs his keys and wallet and makes for the back of the house. His property is landlocked with the back gardens of other houses; the paps have learned the hard way that James is dead serious about protecting his neighbors’ privacy and will not hesitate to phone the police to arrest and sue anyone caught trespassing on private property to snag a photo of him. James hosts dinner for his neighbors several times a year and buys them gifts any chance he can to show his appreciation for their patience and tolerance.

In the dead of night, he slips out into his back garden, the crisp October air burning his lungs in the best way as he ducks his way through the neighborhood, his feet taking him far away from the crowd of reporters that are still stationed in front of his own home. Hopefully they’ll all have dispersed by the time he gets back. Perhaps he should have turned on music or a movie or something, made them think he was settled in for a lazy night in.

He wanders aimlessly for a while, enjoying this taste of freedom and trying to remember the days when he could leave out the front door of his flat without any fanfare.

It’s dark, and thick clouds obscure whichever moon phase they’re in, but the street lamps glow yellow on the damp pavement, lighting his way forward. A crisp autumn breeze ruffles his hair and the leaves, sending them tumbling around him and skittering across the residential street that’s so much quieter than the bustle of New York. It’s good to be home, though.

He arrives at a bus stop and catches one headed into the city proper. It’s no secret that James lives in London, and therefore the general population has gotten used to glimpsing him on the tube or walking on the street or frequenting pubs. He knows people snap quick photos of him, and he’s always happy to stop and pose for a selfie with respectful fans, but mostly he’s left alone when he’s out by himself like this.

Nevertheless, he hears the excited undertones of people trying to inconspicuously point him out to their oblivious friends. He keeps his head down, mindlessly opening and closing apps on his phone for something to do as he pretends he doesn’t notice them. He won’t be on the bus much longer anyway.

Several people get off the bus with him, including a group of teenage girls who are whispering heatedly among themselves. It’s almost funny, watching them debate amongst themselves before one of them approaches him.

She’s red-faced but determined as she blurts, “Can we get a photo?”

“Sure thing,” he says good-naturedly, inclining his head for them to come closer. “Need me to take it?” He holds out a lanky arm and flops it around a bit. “Got a longer reach than any of you.”

He’s certain one of the girls is about to start crying with joy as they all nestle into his side and hand him a new-model iPhone. Damn, it’s fancier than his own. When he was their age, he had an old flip phone that lost reception if he breathed on it wrong. It was a tank though—he’d dropped that thing hundreds of times, and nary a scratch.

“Do me a favor,” he says, handing the phone back to its owner, “and don’t ping our location if you post to social media, yeah? I appreciate it.”

“You’re my favorite person ever,” one of the girls squeaks.

His face splits into a grin and he tucks his hands into his pockets. “Is that so?”

The girls spend the next five minutes chatting with him about music and how they’ve been following him ever since his YouTube days. He listens and chimes in every now and then when they ask him a direct question, but he prefers being passive in exchanges like this, content to hear peoples’ stories. It makes him feel normal, if only for a little while.

Finally, they take their leave, and James turns in the opposite direction even though the destination he had in mind is down the street the girls had just taken. But he’s been burned far too many times by encounters with seemingly innocent fans, only for them to begin following him around and showing up outside his house to talk to him again. He makes a point of not drawing out public encounters with his fans.

He wanders down a street he’s vaguely familiar with, figuring he can backtrack in a couple blocks. The night is too beautiful for him to be upset about needing to take a detour.

Everything looks different in the dark, the glow of neon signs bathing everything in hues of greens and blues and pinks and yellows. Shops and restaurants are mostly shut up for the night, their windows dark or blinds drawn. Dingey motels with pay-by-the-hour rates are in full swing, as are the pubs that have a revolving door of people in varying states of intoxication.

Deep bass that he can feel all the way in his chest catches his attention, and he gets turned around a few times, but he eventually finds the establishment: Bad Wolf Brews. At first, he doesn’t think it’s open, and that he must be mistaken about where the music is coming from, but the heavy front oak door opens, and he realizes the glass on the door is tempered so that the interior lights don’t shine through. The music is clear and heavy and vibrating in his bones. He doesn’t think twice before catching the door before it closes and slipping inside.

The air is humid and smells of sweat and stale beer. Bodies are writhing and gyrating to the rhythm blasting through invisible speakers. The acoustics are phenomenal; none of the layers are lost and the sound quality is nearly as good as if he were listening to the record at home on his own stereo system.

The lights are low, and he’s sure he trips into a few people in the minute it takes for his eyes to adjust to the dimness, but finally, he’s at the bar. There are three open stools, and he claims one between a blonde woman and a red-haired man as he wonders what the hell this dive bar serves. He can see beer taps, but he’s more of a cocktail guy. He must look as lost as he feels, because the bartender hands him a menu that looks like it was hand-written and then photo-copied. It jives with the overall vibe of the pub.

The bartender checks in with him a minute later. James opens a tab and orders a sidecar sans sugar, and is pleasantly surprised by the quality. Not to make assumptions, but he’d figured an establishment such as this would have cheap liquor. If the alcohol in his drink is cheap, it’s well masked.

When he’s drained the last drop and about to signal for another, a hand rests on his shoulder. “Can I buy your next round?”

James looks up into the face of a stranger. It’s a woman with striking green eyes and a disheveled pixie cut. Judging by her crimson cheeks and glazed eyes, she’s three sheets to the wind. There’s buzzed, then there’s drunk, and then there’s plastered. He prefers not to let himself get to that last category, and by extension, he doesn’t really like to associate much with people who won’t remember the night come morning.

“Thanks, but I’m good,” he says with his most charming grin. “G’night.”

He has no idea if the woman knows who he is, but the way she shrugs and saunters to the gentleman sitting beside James, he doubts it.

He gets clumsily propositioned a few more times and always politely declines with a smile. So far, nobody here seems to recognize him and he is going to ride out this anonymity for as long as it’ll last. It has been too long since he’s been able to sit in a pub and drink quietly. Well, quietly, insofar as crazed fans or paparazzi aren’t harassing him—the music is loud enough that he’s sure to have ringing in his ears for a few hours once he gets home.

But he’s not really in any rush to get home, and so he orders his fourth cocktail before making his way to the loo. Alcohol goes right through him, and it’s nearly gotten him in trouble on tour a time or two.

There’s no line, but the loo is crowded, and he tries to ignore the double-takes as he stands in front of a urinal to take care of business. If he wakes up tomorrow morning to find that someone snapped a photo of him having a piss, he’s going to lose his goddamn mind.

Bladder tended to, James keeps his head ducked and shoulders his way back into the bar. His stool is unoccupied, and when he steps forward, he realizes why. A purse sits on it, seemingly reserving the seat but he can’t figure out for whom. He’s about to take the cocktail the bartender hands him and stand against the shadowed wall when someone picks up the purse.

It’s his blonde-haired stool mate. She flashes him a broad grin that lights up her entire face and squeezes something deep in his stomach.

“Saved your seat for ya,” she says with the ease and confidence of someone who’s known him his whole life.

“Thanks,” he manages through a suddenly dry mouth.

Feeling like an idiot for standing and gaping, he slips into his seat and downs half his new sidecar in one go. It’s as though the ice has been broken now, and she turns to him, her elbow on the counter and her cheek propped on her fist.

“Pretty sure you could outdrink a fish, mate,” she drawls, smiling again in that easy way that does too many strange things to his insides. “You’ve been knockin’ ‘em back for over an hour now.”

Has it really been that long? James checks his watch, and yup, it’s half past ten. The paps should be gone from his house by now, but he feels no draw to leave this place. The alcohol has left him pleasantly tipsy and warm, but he’s more drunk on the fantasy that he’s just a normal bloke having a nice night out in a newly-discovered dive bar.

“Fish don’t really drink though, do they? They absorb water through their gills via osmosis,” he replies, and he wants to bite his tongue off because what the fuck was that??

This woman, whatever her name is, doesn’t seem to mind his answer though, because her face scrunches in a giggle. His body is hot and throbbing with more than drink now, and he wants to hear that sound again but his brain has stopped working.

“Is that so different from you absorbin’ alcohol through your bloodstream?” she muses, finishing off whatever is in her short tumbler.

“Can I buy your next round?” he blurts rather than responding to her question, which he’s almost certain was rhetorical.

Her smile melts into something softer, something private and a little shy. “If you’d like.”

“I do.” He flags down the bartender and glances at his new companion expectantly.

“Gin and tonic,” she says. She thanks the bartender, then James when she takes her first sip. “I’m Rose, by the way.”

“James,” he says, feeling stupid because his face is plastered all over London, which likes to boast that it’s the home of international celeb James Noble. But wouldn’t he seem more of an arse if he just assumed this gorgeous woman knew who he was?

Nevertheless, his stomach sinks a bit when she snorts into her drink and says, “I thought it was you.”

“Yup, it’s me,” he forces, his voice flat. He hides his frown with his glass, knocking back the rest of his sidecar like it’s a shot. The room sways slightly with the violent motion of his head, and maybe he’s slightly drunker than he’d thought.

If Rose catches on to his sudden sour mood, she doesn’t mention it. “What brings you here to Bad Wolf?”

He shrugs and blows out a noisy breath. “I dunno. Went for a walk, ended up here.”

“Those are the best sort of adventures.” She hums wistfully. “Sometimes you find what you didn’t know you needed when you let yourself get lost.”

That observation is far too astute for his current state of mind, so instead he says, “Would you like to dance with me?”

Her eyes flicker across his face for a brief moment before she says, “Okay.”

He hops down from his stool, but Rose hesitates, clutching her purse and coat awkwardly. The bartender helpfully tells her to keep them on her stool, and he’ll keep an eye on it. Rose flashes him a grin that James would rather she flash at him, but he realizes that is utterly absurd, so he simply rests his coat on top of her things to better hide them from view. He then holds out his hand for her. Her palm is soft and warm against his as he leads her to the crowded dance floor.

They find space towards the back of the pub, hidden in the shadows of a hallway that states it’s closed off to patrons. And of course, of fucking course, right when he rests his hands on her hips to find the rhythm of the song, a new one comes on, and his own voice belts from the speakers.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters. He loves his music—he made it, after all—but he can’t help but feel pretentious and more than a little silly to dance to it like this.

Rose, however, grins and says, “Oh, come on, this is one of my favorites.”

She catches his hands where he’d loosened them at her waist and forces him to grab hold of her. She’s wearing high-waisted trousers and a top that leaves a sliver of her belly exposed. His thumb grazes the skin of her bare side, and it’s enough to send tingles through his body. Rose, meanwhile, slings her arms around his shoulders and begins to rock her hips from side to side in sync with the bass, embellishing the motions until she looks absolutely ridiculous but so, so beautiful.

He can’t help but grin and laugh, and he mirrors her movements until they’re both dancing like idiots to his music.

“This is how my baby brother dances,” she explains, bouncing up and down while twisting her hips. “We have regular dance parties together.”

“How old’s your brother?” he asks.

“Just turned four.”

He blinks, and blood rushes from his face. “And… and how old are you?”

“A perfectly legal twenty-four,” she drawls, reaching up to flick his nose. “You can start breathing again.”

Thank fuck.

“That’s quite the age gap.”

“My mum got remarried when I was nineteen,” Rose says with a shrug. “She and my stepdad didn’t waste much time.”

“Clearly,” he mutters under his breath.

“It does feel a bit like they’ve started over,” Rose confesses with a too-stiff shrug. “New family, new life, and I’m the interloper.

There is no way this vivacious woman in front of him could ever be considered an interloper, but before he can tell her that, she continues, “Mum does her best to assure me otherwise, but still. It’s hard to watch all the things Mum and Dad are able to do for Tony—that’s my brother, Tony—when Mum struggled so much as a single mum with me.”

“Your dad’s not in the picture?”

A sad smile pinches her face, and he regrets asking.

“No, I never knew him. He died when I was a baby.”

“I… I’m so sorry.” Well, he’s totally buggered this all up, hasn’t he? He wracks his brain on how to salvage the easy banter they’d had at the bar, but draws a blank.

Rose seems to realize they’ve lost the mood, but she breaks out into a lazy grin and says, “Since you seemed so opposed to dancing to your own music, it’ll please you to know a new song’s on. C’mon, show me your moves.”

He’s not going to look a gift horse in the mouth, and so he follows her lead, watching her dance her heart out until her cheeks are pink and her hair is damp with sweat. He’s sure he doesn’t look much better, since he can feel the perspiration beading down his back and beneath his arms, but he can’t bring himself to care. Tonight has been the most fun he’s had in a very long time. Clubbing in New York had been a lark, but he’s been swarmed by his American fans half the night, and had been busy drowning his latest heartbreak to fully enjoy it. But here, now, with Rose, it’s like he’s any other bloke in a pub, chatting up a pretty girl he wants to get to know.

Their bodies are wrapped around each other with the ease and grace of partners who have known each other for years, and he forgets that he has known Rose for all of a few hours. He never wants this night to end. He wants to cling to this fairytale and pretend that the clock isn’t about to strike the proverbial midnight.

But time marches on as always. The clock really does strike midnight, and the bartender begins to clear people out of his establishment. James is as exhausted as he is exhilarated, no longer drunk on booze but rather the company of Rose and the magic they made together by simply dancing the night away.

They head back to the bar to retrieve their coats and her purse, and to close out their tabs. James slides his credit card to the bartender and asks him to charge everyone’s tab to his card. If the bartender is surprised, he hides it well. A few minutes later, James is signing off on the receipt of purchase of several thousand pounds-worth of alcohol. His personal assistant is sure to be confused as hell when she wakes up to see the charge. He fires off a quick warning text to her so she doesn’t open up a fraudulent charge claim.

James salutes the bartender, knowing he’ll come back to this pub as often as he can until he’s found out and this place once again becomes somewhere that’s overrun with his fans.

The night is refreshingly cold when he and Rose emerge into it, a nice change after the stifling, sweaty heat of the bar. However, she hunches her shoulders against the chill, prompting him to wrap his arm around her waist and tug her into his side, all too eager to lend her some of his body heat.

“Can I walk you somewhere?” he asks, glancing around the street that is now full of the drunken patrons who’d been in the pub with them. They all disperse in different directions, stumbling home or to a different bar that is still open. “Or wait with you ‘til you catch a cab?”

“Yeah, sure,” she says, pulling up her phone to order a ride. She taps on the screen for a few quiet moments then says, “Done. Should be here in a few minutes.”

They descend into a slightly awkward silence that James wants to break, but he can’t think of anything clever to say. So he says nothing, and finally headlights wash over them, momentarily blinding them before a taxi pulls up.

“D’you wanna share?” she asks, opening the door to the back seat.

Is she as reluctant to leave him as he is to leave her? Or is she being polite and eco-friendly by ride sharing? Nevertheless, he nods and slides into the back seat beside her.

There is something incredibly intimate about sitting with Rose in the dark interior of the taxi, and he feels like he’s fifteen and wondering how to hold his date’s hand after a cheap night out at the cinemas. He fists his hands together, knotting his fingers until his knuckles pop.

The driver goes to the address Rose provides first, and all too soon they’ve arrived.

“I’ll cover the fare,” he says when she makes to hand over some bank notes to the diver. “It’d be my pleasure.”

She hesitates, but nods, then opens the door to climb out of the car. His pulse quickens as he watches her walk away with nothing but a, “Goodnight.”

“Can you wait just a minute?” he asks the driver.

“Meter’s still runnin’,” he grunts.

“That’s fine.”

James scrambles out of the taxi. “Hey, Rose?”

She turns back to face him, frowning.

“I… er… I had a great time tonight,” he says lamely, but her frown relaxes into a smile. “It was fun. With you. I had fun.”

“Yeah, me too,” she answers.

He licks his lips; his mouth is bone dry and his pulse pounds in his ears, making his vision throb with each frenzied beat.

“Do you… do you maybe wanna do it again some time? Hang out together? I… I’d really like to see you again,” he says, cursing his clumsy, fumbling words.

She scrutinizes him for a long moment, her expression indecipherable. His stomach sinks. Maybe this was a one-off, a story for her to tell her mates.

You’ll never guess who I met at the pub last night. James Noble! He paid for all my drinks and we danced like idiots.

He stews in his misery of doubt, and just when he’s about to tell her to forget about it, she slowly nods.

“Yeah, okay. I’d like that.”

“Really?” he asks, a hopeful edge creeping into his voice.

She laughs. “Really.”

“Brilliant!” James fumbles in his pocket for his phone, and he thrusts it at her. “Give me your number? I’ll text you. Or call.”

He rocks back and forth on his toes and heels, waiting for her to finish up with his phone. He has a sudden, potent bolt of panic that she’s snooping through his private messages or photographs for something to use against him to make a quick profit, but before that panic can take root, she hands his mobile back to him. It’s open to a new texting conversation.

From: 🌹 Bad Wolf Girl 🌹

Now I’ve got your number too 😉

He beams at the name she’s given to herself in his contacts, then he pockets his phone.

“I’ll see you later,” he says.

“You better,” she replies with that knee-weakening smile he’s grown to love over the course of the night. “See ya.”

“Bye.”

He stands there like a moron until she’s safely inside, then he turns back to the taxi and climbs in. The deserted streets streak by as the driver takes him to his neighborhood. He never gives his address though; he always chooses a destination a few streets away, just in case.

James generously tips the driver and bids him goodnight before slipping into the night to his home. He was right: the paparazzi are gone. There is no fanfare as he slips his key into the lock and lets himself into his house. It’s warm and cozy, but still too quiet for his liking.

Between the plane ride and his night out, he feels greasy and disgusting, and indulges in a hot shower before bed. He washes Rose’s scent off of his body, an intoxicating blend of jasmine and vanilla that’s as sweet as it is musky.

He’s groggy by the time he crawls into his giant, king-sized bed and burrows deep into his mounds of pillows and duvets. One of his ex-girlfriends once teased that he turns into the marshmallow man when he sleeps.

His sleep is deep and dreamless, and when he awakes with the sun the following morning, he feels more refreshed and invigorated than he ever remembers being. He’s got a full day of meetings with his songwriting team to brainstorm his next album, and he is ready.

But first, he checks his phone. There’s nothing from Rose, which makes him a little sad, but also nothing from his publicist, which is always a good sign. If ever she messages or calls him first thing in the morning, it always means there’s some sort of dumpster fire to put out. Usually a dumpster fire full of compromising photos of him.

He makes a point of not Googling himself, but he does occasionally check his social media pages for new posts about him, wanting to know when, where, and how his fans came across him in the wild. He easily finds the photo that he took with the group of teenage girls, and makes a point to like the original post and type a quick, “Nice to meet you all. Thanks for chatting with me last night - J” in the comments section. He snorts to himself as his comment blows up within seconds.

But other than some grainy photos of him riding the bus, he can’t find any other photos of himself. Nothing of him wandering the streets or drinking in the pub or even having a wee in the mens’ room. And best of all, there’s nothing of him and Rose. No photos of them dancing together or sharing a cab. If Rose has a social media account, it didn’t post any sneaky photos or bragging stories about dancing all night with James Noble.

He can’t quite believe it; he managed to have a fun night out drinking without it all being thrown back in his face the next morning. Within seconds, he’s grinning to himself and pulling up Rose’s contact information. It’s still in his phone, further proof that his night with her wasn’t some sort of jetlagged fever dream. She was real.

“Good morning. I hope you slept well. Thanks for last night.”

She responds almost instantly. Good morning to you too. I should be thanking you for paying my drink tab and taxi fare 😉 And for being an excellent dance partner.

“The pleasure was all mine, on all counts.” He sends that message, then types out a new one, “I’m gonna be in meetings all day (yes, I know it’s Sunday), so please don’t be discouraged if I don’t reply. But I’d really like to see you again. Want to do dinner or drinks or coffee or something?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer, needing to make himself presentable for when his driver picks him up in an hour. Yet he can’t help but check his phone every three seconds, until finally there’s a message from Rose.

Yeah, I’d like that. I work ‘til five most nights, but I’m free after that. Or we can wait ‘til the weekend.

With spirits lighter than they’ve been in months, James steps out of his house with a broad, stupid grin that the ever-present crowd of paparazzi are all too happy to photograph.

[mooniefics]

— in the grand scheme of things [ 1 ]

pairings : zeke jaeger / reader, referenced eren jaeger / reader

word count : 8.4k

tags : unhealthy relationships, relationship discussions, implied cheating, drinking, break ups, eventual smut, praise kink, mutual infidelity, dubious morality, love triangles

warnings : contains nsfw, sexual coercion, intoxicated reader, rlly toxic behavior

summary : you and eren hadn't been doing the best these past few months, and no one that you knew seemed to have any answers for you, or pointers in the right direction. who better to offer you some sound, insightful relationship advice than his older brother. or so you thought.

note : i apologize if the text convoformatting is a little yucky, i pinky promise it looked wayy better on ao3 (//▽//)

— originally posted 1 / 20 / 21 on ao3 —

you would reluctantly admit that you and eren had been experiencing a few issues as of recently.

it was the run-of-the-mill turbulence: ignored texts and phone calls, unexplained hostility, hanging around with your shared group of friends—more his than yours—without you. you'd been able to ignore it around midterms, being so busy with studying and getting all your family affairs in order for the end of the year that you didn't have much time to worry about how he hadn't bothered to respond to your "happy new year, baby!!!" message you'd sent days ago.

but winter break came and went with no reply from him, you spent christmas and new years in the company of your parents, who couldn't seem to keep quiet about asking about "that jaeger boy". you couldn't really blame them for their questions, you'd been friends for nearly four years now, in a relationship since the night of senior prom, even followed each other to the same university with a few other high school friends just to stay close. the summer that preceded your first year of college was so full of love and life, celebrating your newfound freedom that you had always thought would come with adulthood. but you supposed that it was just the hopeless romantic in you talking, it was called the honeymoon phase for a reason.

consulting his best friends about his sudden detachedness yielded nothing—mikasa had never held much besides poorly hidden disdain for you, and all armin had to offer was nervous glances over to the uninterested girl as he assured you that he was probably stressed about his classes, or had another disagreement with his mother about his choice of major, just excuse after excuse for his friend's behavior. you were feeling desperate. you had little desire to break things off, to throw away nine months of commitment despite how your relationship had soured. you were in love with him, and he hadn't explicitly expressed that he wanted to end things, just left you out of the loop for a bit, nothing that couldn't be fixed with a nice long conversation over dinner, right?

but how could you reach him if he wouldn't answer your calls, if his friends only seemed to want to placate you rather than actively help, you felt like there was nobody to turn to—except him.

zeke, the ever-elusive older brother. you'd met him upon one of your first visits to eren's house, a brief, somewhat awkward exchange when you'd ventured into the kitchen by yourself to grab a few things for your friends in the living room. he'd startled you when you turned out of the pantry to find him standing by the fridge, eyeing you and your armful of chip bags curiously, only wearing a pair of thin-framed glasses and grey sweatpants, revealing the sculpted expanse of his muscular arms and torso, an unopened can of beer in his hand.

"you one of eren's friends?" he'd asked, cracking open the tab and taking a generous gulp.

you replied with a quick nod, adding a sheepish "yup..! everyone else is in the living room, i'm on snack duty" with a shaky smile.

he chuckled, shaking his head and running a hand through his shaggy blonde hair. "typical eren. 'm zeke, good to meet you."

he didn't bother to ask your name before he disappeared into the adjacent hallway, the distant sound of a shutting door finally letting you release the breath you didn't know you'd been holding. that was how a majority of your exchanges went over the last few years, the longest conversations you'd had was when he'd offered to help you on your physics homework more than a couple times, his number was only in your phone because of the one time you'd worn the teeshirt of a band he happened to like and he wanted to send you a playlist. there were plenty of things you didn't know about him, but he was eren's older brother—half-brother, if you wanted to get technical—and after seeing the deflective nature of his closest friends, zeke seemed to be your next best option.

so now you were here, nervously standing at the door to his new apartment, dressed nicely so you didn't risk making a bad impression after not having seen him all these months. he seemed sympathetic over the phone when you'd called him last night, not minding how you'd contacted him out of the blue or that it was only for the sake of asking something of him, inviting you to discuss things more thoroughly over dinner. you didn't know whether he'd extended a helping hand for his brother's sake or your own, but you would be grateful no matter what if he gave some sound advice and a few words of reassurance.

you were startled out of your thoughts by the sound of the lock unlatching, the door swinging open to reveal zeke, smartly dressed in a pair of dark jeans and dress shirt, the top few buttons left undone. "sorry if i kept you waiting," he said, stepping aside to allow you in, "dinner's just about ready."

"no worries." you replied quickly as you slipped off your heels, hoping the heat warming your face wasn't flushing visibly on your cheeks.

he had always been a good-looking guy, an effortless sort of attractiveness that was only magnified by the relaxed yet perceptive air he carried. but he'd changed since that day you first met—his shaggy hair had been trimmed back into a shorter, more manageable style, the usual scruff of facial hair had grown out into a well-maintained beard, frames that similarly complimented his handsome features perched on the bridge of his nose. flashing a polite smile, you stepped into the apartment, trying not to let your anxiety get the better of you as the door was shut and locked behind you.

"nice place." you mused, peering about at the spacious, well-decorated interior as you followed beside him.

"thanks, honestly i'm glad i could find someone that was willing to split the rent," you felt nerves stir in the pit of your stomach, the thought of having to meet the other tenant leaving you feeling a bit uneasy. he turned down to glance at you, grey eyes glinting as he offered you an easy grin, "you don't have to worry about my roommate, i kicked him out for the night so you didn't feel uncomfortable."

you were sure the blush on your face was evident now, biting at the inside of your cheek as you both entered into the kitchen. "oh.. thank you. sorry if i caused any trouble, i know this was kind of last minute."

"no worries." he echoed your earlier sentiment, motioning you to the table just beside the kitchen before he returned to the skillet on the stove. the warm scent of coriander and turmeric filled the air as he lifted the lid and set it aside on the counter, stirring the simmering contents within. "hope you like curry," he said over his shoulder, turning down the gas on the stove and opening up the cabinet beside him to pull out the plates, "i didn't make it too spicy, just in case."

"i don't really eat it too often, but it smells amazing."

you felt yourself starting to relax into the chair, shedding your jacket and hanging your purse on the side of the chair as you watched him scoop a generous portion of white rice onto each plate. it was just you two here, he was willing to help, and you were incredibly grateful for his hospitality.

you pulled your phone out of your pocket to fiddle with while he was still plating the food, aimlessly tapping through your apps to kill some time. your text to eren from a few days ago still read "delivered", and you felt a slight twinge prick in your chest as you closed out of your messages, opting to scroll through your feed on one of the few social medias your friends had convinced you to download. it was relatively safe to look there, seeing as eren didn't post all that often, if at all, but seeing everyone your age, people that you knew from your classes posing with their boyfriends and girlfriends and going out on excursions with their peers made you feel jealous. you couldn't have imagined what you had done to deserve such a shitty situation.

your thoughts were interrupted by the dull clink of the plate being set before you, the clatter of silverware following as he rounded over to the opposite side of the table to place his things down. you switched your phone on silent just in case, tucking it back into your purse and sitting up a bit straighter in your chair. but instead of sitting down, he wandered back over to the kitchen, reaching up into a different cabinet to fetch two glasses.

"i'm assuming talking about your relationship troubles isn't the easiest, so pick your poison. i've got gin, tequila, beer—" he listed off the myriad of drinks he had at his disposal, pausing to throw you a glance. "but i honestly pegged you as a vodka kind of girl."

you felt a nervous giggle bubble up in your chest, fingers twisting in your lap, feeling more than juvenile as you replied. "i'm still under twenty-one, so i'm not really much of a drinker.."

"come on, you're in college now," he said, pulling a bottle of vodka from one of the lower cabinets and stepping over to the fridge, "most of the people hosting parties don't give much of a shit whether you're of legal drinking age or not, and i've got a feeling that you really don't either. i know i got shit-faced plenty of times during my freshman year."

you mentally debated the principles of accepting, he was right in saying that you had attended plenty of parties where you drank with your friends, suppressing a grimace at the memories of you throwing up in a stranger's bathroom while an equally drunk historia or sasha held your hair back. but those times you'd been looking to get wasted, drinking in this context would just be for the sake of loosening up, easing the sting of ripping off the metaphorical bandaid that was the thought of your relationship slowly crumbling right before your eyes.

"you're right," you relented, much to his delight, "and, yes, i guess i am a vodka kind of girl."

you didn't appreciate how charming the grin your words garnered was, fixing your eyes on the steaming plate of chicken curry in front of you before you could embarrass yourself. you were here to figure out how to smooth things over with your boyfriend, not oogle at his unnecessarily attractive older brother.

"here, something simple to start you off." he set down the glass on your place mat, finally taking his seat across the table, "there's plenty of ginger beer and limes in the fridge, and plenty of vodka still left."

you stole a glance at his drink. "whiskey, on the rocks.. how refined."

he gave a low chuckle at your sarcasm, taking a slow sip. "it's an acquired taste, i wouldn't expect someone your age to appreciate it." that was right, he was older than you, significantly older than you. just because you were legally an adult didn't mean your life experience could crop up to zeke's.

"old man." you murmured, a small smile perking up at both of your lips as you spooned some of the curry and rice into your mouth, "wow, thi' i' really gu'!" you managed to speak around the mouthful of food, grey eyes watching you intently with an obvious bemusement from across the table.

"i'm glad you like it. guess those years working at a couple restaurants around town weren't a complete waste." he said, tasting his own bite of the food, "cumin's a little off, hope you can forgive me for that."

"are you kidding me? this exceeds restaurant quality. i can barely put eggs in a pan without burning the kitchen down."

you were nearly a quarter through your plate already, setting your utensil down to take a sip of the drink he'd made for you. it was simple, bubbly, a nice mix of ginger, vodka, and lime to cool off your tongue. you could barely taste the alcohol, which somewhat eased your worries of becoming a drunken mess that required him to babysit you for the rest of the night.

you were both silent for a moment, the air occupied with the scrape of spoons and quiet sips from your respective glasses, and you were beginning to dread ruining such an easy mood with the topic of your emotional turmoil. but zeke beat you to the punch, clearing his throat as he settled his gaze onto you.

"so, you and my brother. you wanted to talk about that, right?"

you allowed yourself to frown a bit, taking a generous sip of your drink before you answered. "yeah. i don't really know where to start.."

"when did you first start noticing problems?"

you felt somewhat eased by his calm tone, bright grey eyes that were entirely focused on you, wordlessly reassuring you that you could trust him with this. you'd come this far, there was no point in trying to back out now.

"well, i guess it was around november." you began, scraping all of the food left onto one side of your plate to keep your hands occupied, "we'd all met up for halloween, me and eren and mikasa and armin—" you prattled off the other names of your friends, even some that you weren't sure he knew from your high school days, but he nodded along all the same. "and we all had an amazing time. got all dressed up, wandered around campus and crashed in on the frat parties, drank ourselves stupid, like you said. and at one point i just completely lost track of eren, and i didn't see him or anyone else besides sasha, connie, and mina for the rest of the night. after that, he kind of dropped off the face of the earth, wouldn't pick up my calls or answer my texts, always told me he was busy when we ran into each other on campus, and he wasn't at his dorm most of the time i came to try and check on him."

by the end, you'd finished off your drink, zeke wordlessly getting up to grab everything to pour you a new one without you asking. you were more flustered at his attentiveness, forcing yourself to chalk it up to him being an excellent host as he returned with a freshly opened can of ginger beer, pouring it over the ice in your glass and adding at least two shots of vodka, finishing it off with half a lime before returning to his seat. had he put that much alcohol the last time?

the thought slipped your mind as he swallowed a few spoonfuls of curry and spoke. "hmm.. so everything was going just fine, and then all of a sudden radio silence?"

you nodded, working on your remainder of rice, watching his face take on a pensive expression.

"if i'm being honest, eren has always been a little shithead." you suppressed a giggle at that. "he's rude, he's immature, and most of all, he's a terrible liar."

"mhm, the ears are a dead giveaway." you added, earning a grin over the rim of his glass.

"exactly. my stepmom— his mom always called him on his shit with that." you shared a moment of laughter at that, the memory of how defensive he would get over in when you'd first pointed it out making you feel a distant nostalgia creeping in the back of your mind.

you remembered how easy the days where all you had to worry about was catching up on all your late work and forcing yourself to learn about nintendo games for the sake of impressing your crush. now on top of school, you had bills and parties and shitty professors and an even shittier situation with your first long-term relationship that had started off so well yet devolved into feeling like you were a million miles away despite living on the same campus.

"so, eren is a shithead. and a terrible liar. go on." you took a long sip of your drink, unable to distinguish the warmth of the alcohol from the warmth of the curry in your stomach.

"well, he's just— how do i say this..." zeke murmured the last bit more to himself than you, pushing up his glasses on his nose and scratching the back of his neck, "he doesn't know a good thing when he sees it." you felt your heart skip at that. "like that mikasa girl, her and eren have been friends since grade school, and never once in all those years has eren ever acknowledged the way she's fuckin' head over heels for him." the mention of mikasa made you feel a sharp pang echo through your chest, suddenly feeling much more disheartened than before, especially at the mention of her perpetual affinity for him.

"but, i do have to give the kid some props," he continued, taking a sip of his whiskey, "at least he had enough of a brain to realize that you're a real catch. if i'm being honest, you're out of his league, and when you first started dating, he knew that."

you couldn't tell if your face was feeling hot because of his words or the fact that you'd just finished off your second drink in one long gulp, already reaching for the unopened ginger beer and vodka. blinking away the glassiness starting to settle over your vision, you met his gaze, suddenly feeling much smaller before him. he waited until you'd finished refilling your drink before he began again, not saying anything about how you'd accidentally poured much more vodka than you meant to.

"i think eren's problem is that he's getting too cocky," your appetite was starting to disappear as you focused on his words, still trying to finish what was left on the plate, "doesn't know his ass from his elbow, but he still thinks he's got everything figured out. you know what i mean, right?"

you nodded with an affirmative hum, a series of incidents that made you want to rip the boy's head off flashing through your mind only added credence to his claim. your tongue was starting heavy in your mouth, movements sluggish as you washed away what was left of dinner with more of your drink. you hadn't been truly drunk in months, not since that halloween party, only indulging in the occasional mimosa over breakfast with your family and your celebratory champagne for new years.

you hoped the heaviness weighing at your lids didn't show on your face, or that your words didn't string together when you replied. "i know exactly what you mean, can't imagine how hard that was to deal with for the last nineteen years."

he chuckled, finishing off his whiskey. "i've saved that kid's ass more time than i could ever care to count. being the older brother is a thankless fuckin' job if i've ever seen one. you done with dinner?"

"yeah. thank you again, it was amazing."

he grinned at your praise, rising from his seat as he spoke. "here, table's kind of crowded, we can move to the couch. i'll take care of dishes later. you want a refill?"

"sure." you responded before you could really think about your answer, trying to subtly steady yourself on the table as you got to your feet, head already starting to spin.

blinking away the blurriness fuzzing at the edges of your vision, you wandered past him through the kitchen and into the adjacent living room, falling into the cushions of the couch before you could trip up over your own feet. you felt embarrassed by your lack of tolerance, but felt some of that tension ebb away when he made his way over to sit next to you, fresh glass of ginger beer and vodka in hand. you didn't expect to feel the warmth of his thigh pressing into yours when he settled down, placing your drink on the coffee table before he turned down to speak to you.

"alright, i haven't said much in the way of advice, so here's what i think."

you grimaced internally, reaching over with an unsteady hand to grab your glass and take a long sip to brace yourself for his thoughts. you weren't expecting that it would be an easy pill to swallow, he'd probably be realistic about things and tell you to just suck it up and break things off while you could still maintain a shred of dignity.

"i know this is probably not what you want to hear, but i really think you should break up with him."

your lips pressed into a thin line, partly from his assertion but mostly because of the burn of alcohol sliding down your throat. there was definitely much more vodka in this than there should be, but you didn't want to seem weak before him, trying not to shudder as you continued to take small, fast sips.

you nearly spat it up on yourself when his hand settled on the skin of your thigh exposed by your skirt, wide eyes raising to meet his intent gaze. "don't tell me you think a guy that ditches you for just about three months now is worth your time, even without everything else considered."

"everythin' else?" your words were starting to slur together, but you still tried to drown out the dread tangling in your gut with the bubbling contents of the glass.

"you haven't figured it out yet, have you.." he faltered, a slight frown drawing across his lips when you gave a hesitant shake of your head, sighing as he pulled his glasses off of his nose and folded them neatly to place on the coffee table. "think about it; he disappears on you while he was drunk at a party, most likely with hanging around alone with the female friend that's clung onto him for a majority of his life, and then after that night he just completely gives you the cold shoulder, avoids you every time you try and come talk to him, like he's running away from you." he paused, adam's apple bobbing in his throat. "like he's hiding something."

you felt your heart sink, biting firmly down on your bottom lip, a thick lump forming in your throat, eyes stinging. "s-so, you're saying th-that—"

you couldn't blink away the first tears as they dribbled down your cheeks, choking back a small sob. he carefully took the nearly empty glass from your hands and replaced it on the coffee table, you could make out the expression of pity drawn across his handsome features through your watery gaze. you didn't protest when the arm closest to you moved to wrap around your waist, the other curling around your shoulder and drawing you against him. restrained sniffles gave way to hiccuped sobs, your own hands linking around his neck and squeezing him tighter against you as you wept out into the empty air behind him.

normally you would've put on a brave face, maybe excused yourself to the bathroom to let out a few silent tears before you returned to thank him and stammer out some excuse to leave and spend the rest of the night wallowing on your own. but the alcohol had melted away any barriers you would've put up against zeke's compassion, made you crave the security his warmth provided as he pressed his face into your shoulder, a large, gentle hand rising to stroke over the crown of your head. he let you cry on your own for a while, not minding how your fingers clutched tightly at his shirt or how your snot and tears wet the pale fabric, petting your hair and rubbing soothingly over your shuddering back.

your adjacent thighs were nearly overlapping each other, but all you could think of was how your hammering heart felt like it was one beat away from bursting at the seams, the dim glow of the lamp in the corner that blurred into a shapeless ball of light, his steady breath fanning across the skin of your neck.

"that asshole doesn't deserve you." he murmured, voice low as his lips ghosted over your shoulder, strong arms fastening their hold around you.

you couldn't help but shudder at the feeling as you sniffed, swallowing down the tension balling in your throat before you managed a shaky reply. "h-he's your brother, i thought you'd b-be on his side.."

"what makes you think i'd be on his side after hearing how he treated you?" his fingers worked their way deeper into your hair, palm cradling the back of your head. you forced yourself not to squirm when his face nestled further into the crook of your neck. "you deserve someone mature, someone who can treat you right.. someone who can make you feel good..."

you let out an alarmed breath at the feeling of a soft kiss over your skin, then another, posture stiffening as your grasp around his neck slackened. "wait, i c-can't," you started, the sudden sensation of his fingers sinking into your waist and drawing you closer against him making you lose your words for a moment, "i haven' officially broken up with eren, just because he might've ch-cheated on me doesn't mean-"

"there's no use trying to deny what he did.. what's done is done, you need to do what's best for you—right here, right now." his voice lowered even further, barely a whisper as he implored, "what do you want to do?"

you bit back a weak sound when his tongue drew a slow lick over the sensitive skin, the involuntary heat stirring between your legs making your thighs clench. this was wrong, you shouldn't be here, you shouldn't be letting this happen, an endless stream of muddled thoughts flashed through your mind as you desperately searched for some sort of excuse to buy yourself a few more moments to think. a distant memory popped into your head, the blurry mental image of zeke with his arm draped around a dark-haired woman when you'd dropped by to visit eren just before you'd both moved in on campus.

"g-girlfriend!! don't you have a girlfriend?!" you blurted desperately, a small whimper slipping out of you as he gave a brief suck over your pulse.

"girlfriend?" he paused his motions, chuckling lowly and giving a small shake of his head when he realized who you were thinking of, "oh, pieck? i'd hardly call her a girlfriend, just an old buddy. honestly, it's no wonder you got stuck in this sort of situation, you manage to find an excuse for everything."

you couldn't ruminate on his patronizing tone for longer than a moment before he returned to kissing at the sensitive skin of your neck, testing the waters of your resilience. you were afraid of your responsiveness to his touch, your body's unabashed honesty, afraid of how your protests had devolved into uncertain whimpers and shifts in your seat.

"good girl," he murmured, sending a jolt of heat racing up your spine, "see how easy that was? this is what you want, isn't it?"

you allowed the fingers in your hair to gently tug your head back, exposing more skin to his eager mouth as he teased a bite just under your jaw, drawing a soft whine and an even deeper flush of heat over your cheeks from you. your movements were sluggish, limbs leadened with inebriation falling down easily when he urged you down onto your back. in one slow blink he'd settled on top of you, warm lips melded easily against your own as his fingers began to work at unbuttoning your blouse.

maybe he was right, maybe you just needed to accept that you and eren's time had come to pass and indulge in what you really wanted—and now that he'd made it an option, what you really wanted right now was to feel the warmth of his bare flesh on yours, taste more of the whiskey on his breath as his tongue slid between your teeth, replace every hint of eren that still resided on your skin with his scent of expensive cologne. you could already feel the ache of a forming bruise at the base of your neck, fingers messily tangling in his hair and back arching up to his hands when they began to smooth across your chest, snaking under your body to undo the clasp of your bra.

"you never told me what exactly you wanted, baby.." he murmured over your lips, low-lidded eyes meeting yours, "do you want us to just kiss, or do you want me to touch you?"

"touch me, please.." you mumbled restlessly, quickly becoming impatient with the fact that his hands had halted after slipping the straps of your bra free from your arms and tossing it somewhere behind him to be forgotten.

but even after you answered, he didn't continue, a smug smirk tugging at his lips as he gazed down at you. "and then what after that? do you want me to touch you here? his fingers ghosted over the swell of your breasts. "or here?" one hand trailed down the length of your abdomen, forefinger just barely hooking onto the waistline of your skirt and giving it a teasing tug.

"zeke." you whined in frustration, mind foggy with lust and alcohol, uncoordinated hands wrestling with his shirt despite not having undone the buttons first, "you're being mean.."

"sorry," he said without a hint of remorse in his voice, only pride as he returned his hands to your chest, "you're just too easy to tease, so responsive, i'd never get bored of playing with you."

you took it as a compliment, as praise, rather than what it really was. it was easier to think of it like flattery in the moment, to push the obvious reminder that his brother had gotten bored of you out of your mind. despite the implication of such a statement, you couldn't help the odd sense of safety you found in such an equivocal intimacy, hazy, not sound of mind, not entirely yourself as you offered him your body, his to kiss and grab and bruise if only for the night.

you hummed with approval when his lips trailed down to the valley of your chest, fingers sinking into the soft flesh of your breasts, but making a point to avoid your nipples, only further denying you the stimulation that you thought he'd finally assured you with that last arrogant taunt. you could feel his smile on your skin, nearly huffing at the realization that you couldn't squeeze your thighs together to give yourself some friction with him positioned between them like he was, buzzing with warmth yet entirely unfulfilled.

"patience is a virtue.." he murmured sagely, unfazed by your second sound of annoyance.

"what about trying to fuck your brother's girlfriend is virtuous." you bit back, momentary anger leaving you in a surprised pant as he gave a gentle tug to one of your nipples.

"ex-girlfriend." he corrected after a quiet chuckle at your forthrightness, mouth closing around the pert bud not being rolled between his slender fingers.

you moaned out a soft curse, hand threading back into his thick hair and pressing him further against you. the fog that had been momentarily sobered clouding your senses once more, hips rutting up into nothing as he worshipped your skin with his lips, teeth, and tongue. you felt the spark fully reignite when one hand moved back down your stomach to wrestle with the button of your skirt, the zipper sliding down easily after it was undone, fingers delving under the loosened waistline to palm at you through your underwear. he pulled away from your nipple with one last gentle bite over the tender skin, low voice at a husky mutter.

"have you ever had sex before?"

you quickly nodded down at him, seeing your own dazed stare reflected in his darkened eyes, pupils almost entirely overtaking the cool grey.

"was it with him?"

you swallowed thickly, suddenly finding yourself unable to meet his gaze, turning away to focus on your long finished drink on the coffee table, ice already half melted in the sweating glass. "yes." you barely whispered.

"was it good?"

you bit the inside of your cheek, blinking fast, trying to dispel the blanket of unease that was quickly settling over you, suffocating you. you only answered with a non-committal shrug, feeling your face burn with a humiliation that he couldn't have thought such a line of questioning would have not inspired.

he maintained a steady gaze with you for a moment longer, lowering his head back to rest at your shoulder without another word and picking a place on your neck to bite and lick at, fingers rubbing slow circles over the drenched fabric beneath them. a small moan bubbled up in your chest, squirming at just the easy attention over your clit, lids falling shut as your head sank back into the cushioned arm of the sofa.

you sighed out a small whimper of relief when he finally tugged your underwear to the side, fingers instantly slicking with your arousal when they met your bare skin, sliding in with little resistance. he'd started out with just two, but the incessant desire to be filled was quelled for the moment with them, drawing a pathetic mewl out of you when they curled just right within you.

"are you always this excited?"

another question you didn't know the honest answer to, but you shook your head anyways, accompanying it with a weak "n-no" to stroke his ego like you knew he wanted you to. you went stiff with a sudden tension when felt a third finger prodding at your pussy, eyes flying back open as you made a disconcerted sound of protest.

"relax.." he murmured into your shoulder, biting softly over one of the fresher marks, "if you can't handle this, how can you take me?"

you took a shaky breath, taking your bottom lip between your teeth as you let your thighs fall open a bit more, doing your best to not clench your muscles. and you could feel how he let out a low groan over your skin when he finally slipped in all three, burying them knuckle-deep, rewarding you with a smattering of open-mouthed kisses across your bruised flesh.

"good girl. good girl." he nipped at your jaw, adjusting the speed of his wrist to match how your hips rolled up to meet his hand, the pad of his thumb rolling firmly over your clit.

you could feel that warm knot in your stomach tangling further, the tantalizing thought of release ebbing every bit of trepidation out of you as you allowed your moans and whines to spill out into the open air, heels digging into the felt of the couch around him. but just moments before you could find your high, his touch gone, and he was rising off of you to sit back on his calves, absentmindedly wiping the wetness from his fingers away on his pants, making quick work of his shirt, standing briefly to kick off his pants and help you out of your displaced bottoms before he settled back over you.

your skin was hot with need against his own, arm linking around his sturdy back and pressing his lips back over yours, letting him guide one leg up against his side as he lined himself up with you. you squeaked when you felt the tip of his cock press into you, hands bracing themselves on his shoulders, wide, unfocused eyes gazing up at him for some sort of reassurance. and that sense of security filled your heaving chest, that knowing look he focused solely on you, only made for you in this moment, forehead pressed to yours, breath fanning over your lips.

a strained, shuddering whine broke from your throat as he eased himself inside of you, inch by inch, barely able to hold your eyes open enough to maintain his fixed stare, mouth falling open in a feeble attempt to gasp back in all the air he'd pushed out of you.

"fuck." he growled lowly, fingers sinking almost painfully into the thigh in his grasp, trying to fit his body as close as it could possibly be to your own.

another sound rumbled out of him from deep in his chest when your nails dug into the firm muscle beneath them, hungry, greedy lips capturing yours. his pace was mercifully slow, given that he was probably just as eager for his own release as you were for yours, but the overwhelming fullness that you felt each time his hips met yours drove whatever tiny breath you'd been able to catch between his kisses.

you spread your legs as far as the narrow space of the couch allowed it, whimpering, feeling how you were already making a dripping mess of your thighs and the fabric beneath you. your heart was practically beating out of your chest, so loud in your ears that you wouldn't be surprised if he could hear it too, his mouth catching every pant and moan he drew from you, the steady pace of his movements falling away into an ardent, frenzied rhythm. his mouth strayed back to your neck, grunting and biting into the abused flesh, and without the barrier to muffle your sounds you were whining out into the open space of the apartment, gasping in the air humid with your shared arousal, nails scratching down his back without care for whether they'd leave a mark, only dragging them back across his hot skin over and over again just to hear him groan out your name once more.

you could feel yourself climbing back up towards that delightful precipice, legs wrapping around his body and forcing him deeper into you so he could reach that spot that made white stars burst across the darkness of your close-lidded eyes. you tried to force your mouth to form coherent words, to warn him about how dangerously close you were, but all that spilled from your lips was more breathless sounds, body arching up to press against his as heat scalded over every inch of your bare skin, limbs shuddering and clinging desperately to him as he continued to roughly thrust into you.

tears were pricking at your eyes by the time he moaned a jumbled string of curses into your neck, arms nearly giving out beneath him as he spilled himself inside of you, your chests heaving in an unmatched, ragged unity against each other. he stayed there for a few moments, still inside you, struggling to catch his breath but still pressing the occasional kiss over your neck and shoulders. your fingers released their grasp on him, not realizing how hard you'd been clenching your hands until you felt the stiff ache resonating through your joints.

you tried to murmur something to him, but all that escaped was a weak whimper, legs slipping back down to lay on the couch, arms resting heavy on his back. you hadn't meant to fall asleep so fast, but your head had already been spinning from warm shocks still echoing through every fiber of your body, let alone the alcohol and the sheer physical exertion. you let your eyes fall shut, lids far too heavy to keep open, and slipped away easily into a dreamless slumber.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

zeke blindly reached about for the towel he'd set aside near the sink, finally grabbing it and pressing it to his dripping face, patting his skin and beard dry before tossing it into the hamper by the door. replacing his glasses onto his face, he blinked away the grogginess in his eyes, running his fingers through his hair to flatten it into a somewhat presentable style. he turned to the open door, catching a glimpse of you nestled under the comforter of his bed, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

he'd carried you to his room last night, but didn't get the chance to clean you up until this morning. by then, the bruises that had been an angry shade of red over your neck and chest had settled into your skin and darkened significantly, some bordered by deeper teethmarks that still had yet to fade. you hadn't stirred when he'd pulled the covers away from you for just a few moments, peeling off your underwear that he'd haphazardly replaced on your body to keep the mess to a minimum and gently wiping his cum away from your skin with a wet washcloth. he'd really tired you out, and something about seeing you so exhausted after just one night with him made a flicker of pride swell in his chest.

flicking off the light in the bathroom, he didn't bother to add a shirt over his relaxed attire of just a pair of sweatpants as he left his bedroom, making sure to quietly shut the door behind him.

"rise and shine." his back was still to the kitchen when he heard reiner's voice, turning to face his roommate who was looking at him with a mix of disapproval and curiosity, most likely having gotten a good look at the scratches you left down his skin last night.

"how was your time at bertholdt's?" zeke asked, ignoring reiner's frown as he glossed over his intrigue, wandering over to the fridge to grab some water for himself.

"not great." he grunted, reaching into the cabinet below the stove and fetching a pan, "he decided to invite annie over when he heard i was coming. you can imagine how boring it was to watch those two make eyes at each other the entire night."

zeke chuckled at that, cracking the top off of the cool bottle in his hands and taking a refreshing gulp, glancing at the table and noticing its lack of plates and the leftovers of night-old curry. "oh, you did the dishes. thanks."

"yeah, yeah, just glad you had your fun last night without me having to hear it." he stepped aside to let reiner put a carton of eggs and the butter out of the fridge. "but seriously man? the couch? you're gonna have to get that dry-cleaned or something, and i'm not helping you pay for it either."

"don't worry about it, i'll take care of it." he replied with a lazy smile, quickly adding on to his smooth response, "and be nice, alright? it's someone we know."

"who?" he asked, not at all looking it but obviously interested in his answer, flicking on the gas under the pan and dumping a spoonful of butter into it.

"one of eren's friends." reiner's eyes shot briefly over to him at that, prompting him to give a brief description of you, "remember? you saw her that time we all met up to watch that horror marathon while i still lived with my parents."

"wait.. you told me about her. isn't she dating your brother??"

"was dating my brother." he corrected, rolling his eyes at the disgruntled bewilderment etched across his friends face, "what? i had to show her that this generation of jaegers wasn't a complete disappointment.."

"whatever, man. your business." he finished off his water bottle in silence, watching reiner crack a few eggs in a bowl and whisk them together with a fork, finally breaking the silence with a generous offer. "you want me to make something for her?"

a slight grin broke out across zeke's face, dumping the empty plastic into the recycling bin, slapping reiner's back affectionately. "thought you'd never ask. thanks again, man."

"at your service." was his grumbled, monotone reply, the shadows weighing under his eyes clearly showing how late he'd arrived home last night and how little sleep he'd gotten. zeke was sure that once he'd got some coffee in him he'd cheer up a bit.

he was sure reiner wouldn't be done for another few minutes, so he wandered back into his room, wondering if you'd woken up yet so he could direct you to the shower if you wanted one. in the time that he'd been in the kitchen, you shifted around in bed, having rolled onto your back and knocked the covers away to reveal your bruised chest, hair covering half of your face but still identifiable. perfect.

zeke fished his phone from the pocket of his sweatpants, unlocking it and tapping into the camera app, taking a few steps closer to the bed and zooming in a bit before he snapped a picture of you.

                  10:39 am  you you sent an image to eren

eren  10:40 am uhhh did you send that to the wrong person

eren  10:41 am wait hold on who is that zeke who the fuck is that

eren  10:42 am is that my fuckingngirlfrined

you missed a call from eren

eren  10:43 am why the fuck aren't you fuckign picking up

you missed a call from eren (2)

eren  10:45 am holy shit what the fuck this can't be fucking happening zeke what the fuck is wrong wjth you you piece of fucking shit

zeke tapped out of his messages with his brother, sliding over his notifications setting to "do not disturb" before dropping his phone back into his pocket. he couldn't help the low chuckle he let out at his frantic replies. maybe if he'd held the same enthusiasm with you then he wouldn't be in this situation in the first place. moving over to your side of the bed, he took a seat on the mattress beside you, perking up at the sound of your small groan, eyes sleepily fluttering open to gaze up at him.

"g'morning." you murmured, letting out a quiet yawn as you sat up in bed, holding the sheets up to cover your bare chest despite him having already seen you naked.

"how'd you sleep?"

"like a fucking rock." he laughed softly at your bluntness. "my head kinda hurts.. sorry i fell asleep on you last night."

you looked positively adorable right now, and he was glad you weren't panicking or having any second thoughts about him, that you had fully digested the reality of your situation and come to peace with it. well, at least the situation before he'd sent that picture to eren.

"don't worry about it," he assured you, keeping the thought of his brother probably blowing up his phone and leaving the usual voicemails of him screaming at him when he was angry in his inbox, "i'll get you some breakfast soon. need any ibuprofen?"

"yes please." you smiled gratefully up at him, his heart twinged. "and could you grab me my purse? i left it in the kitchen, my roommates probably wondering why i didn't come back last night."

he began to say yes, but thought of how you were probably receiving a similar slew of alarmed messages by this point made him stop. "how about a shower first? you'd probably feel a lot better after that."

you hummed thoughtfully for a few moments, rubbing the sleep from your eyes with the back of your hand. "a shower sounds nice.. if you don't mind."

"wouldn't have offered if i did, babe." he grinned at the way your cheeks flushed, waving a hand over to his bathroom door, "shower's in there, plenty of towels on the rack by the tub."

he stood, turning to begin making his way to the door to give you some privacy, but felt your fingers gingerly wrapped around your wrist. "zeke.. thank you. for everything. i've been in a really tough spot for the last few months, and now everything seems... it all seems a lot clearer to me, like i just took the hardest step and it'll be a breeze after this."

your smile was genuinely, infectious, eyes full of gratitude, and had it not been for the heavy news that you would most likely be finding out about within the hour, he probably would've responded with one of equal radiance. but he managed to perk up the corners of his lips for you, tracing back to press a quick kiss over the top of your head.

"at your service."

he was pleased to see that his copied, more charmingly delivered words garnered such a positive response from you. and so he made his way back out into the kitchen, pulling out his phone to briefly check the amount of notifications that had racked up on his lock screen. thirty-six messages and sixteen missed phone calls. damn was that little brat persistent.

despite having essentially thrown you under the bus, he didn't feel any semblance of guilt for the action of having sent that incriminating photograph. the only remorse he felt was for leaving you as the sole recipient to his brother's rage, and the fact that he was starting to feel a strange sort of affinity for you, something lighter and more innocuous than the lust that he had shown you the previous evening. so he slipped over to the dinner table, acknowledging reiner's announcement that your eggs were ready with a short hum, finding your purse exactly where you said it had been.

he could hear the sound of the shower being turned on, and he felt safe unzipping the small bag and rummaging around to fish your phone out from beneath your other belongings. as he'd expected, there were a few missed calls from a "sasha", who he assumed to be your roommate, the messages from "eren <3" quickly beginning to pile up on your home screen. and as the "incoming call" text showed on the screen and the phone began to vibrate, zeke held down on the power button, completely shutting it off before he pocketed the device.

he just had to keep you busy, get you to focus on anything besides your desire to get to your purse and check your phone, or figure out a polite way to quickly shoo you out of the door and get home before you realized that you didn't have it in your bag. he hadn't really planned for this outcome, he usually didn't have this sort of compassion for others when he set his mind to getting something done, but he had a feeling that the extra work would be worth it in the grand scheme of things.

⥼ next chapter

[innocentbi-stander]

Can you do demigod jaskier? But this time he is the son of Hecate?

@localhalfvampire I need to preface this by saying you’re an absolute GENIUS

Demigod jaskier, but son of Hecate has so much untapped potential and I’m LIVING for it

A jaskier who has magic, who hides himself from detection by using his abilities to manipulate the Mist that shields demigods from discovery from the rest of the world (he shivers to think of what sorcerers like that bastard Stregobor would do if they realized that demigods, sources of pure godly power and ability were walking about the Continent, free to manipulate)

Obviously children of Hecate possess an innate talent for magic, each level of magical ability depending on the child, but nobody, not even Hecate herself, had been prepared for the unintentional powerhouse that is jaskier

And how fitting is it that the person who would care about ability levels the least ends up the most powerful child of Hecate to walk the Continent since Circe herself?

Jaskier was brought to camp at a young age, his noble father unwilling to deal with the baby of his one night stand with a goddess

He is raised amongst demigods and taught to defend himself and defend others from the monsters that plague the children of the gods

A sword is placed in his hand as soon as he is strong enough to grasp it, he learns to throw daggers with deadly accuracy, to shoot arrows at a target blindfolded

For all that jaskier is taught to be fierce, and witty, to speak gracefully with a silver tongue, there is nothing he picks up faster than magic

Magic to jaskier is like breathing, for he was born from the goddess of magic herself, it is woven into every piece of his being

Hecate is a tough parent, and she believes in  challenging her children and their abilities, and so it is no wonder when jaskier leaves camp to explore the world on his own, though he visits often

And then jaskier meets geralt and the rest is history

He spends twenty years chasing after the witcher (and though twenty years is not really a blink in the eye of an immortal demigod such as jaskier, that still matters) , there’s many hunts and contracts, aftermaths of jaskier stitching up geralt and lying about where he learned to sew skin so neatly

There’s evenings spent by the campfire, playing his lute and trying to ignore the way the firelight dances in geralt’s amber eyes

There’s laughs in taverns after a bit too much to drink, there’s lute strings tucked into his bag and no word of where they came from (though he knows), apples for Roach amongst complaints of destroying her diet, doublets ruined by days in the wilderness, and geralt’s barely there smile when jaskier produces honey cakes ‘given’ to him by the local baker

There’s inns, and shared rooms, then shared beds, and shared baths closer than close, and then there’s the djinn, and yennefer, and growing apart bit by bit

Jaskier possesses some of the greatest magic in the world, and there’s nothing he can do except watch the love of his life pick someone else over and over again and pretend not to be slowly falling apart

And then the mountain

Jaskier is alone for a little bit after that, wandering aimlessly 

He travels across the Continent, killing monsters that the rest of the world can’t even see, wiping yellow sulphur dust from his hands and wishing he was somewhere else

Jaskier visits camp and stays there for a while, but no matter how many times he comes back jaskier is a traveler at heart and never stays for long

Not far past the borders of camp, at a nearby village, jaskier learns that nilfgaard has been looking for him

He can’t bring himself to be even remotely surprised then when he’s ambushed on the path a day later

The first few parties of soldiers are easily dispatched with the use of his sword and daggers, but then at some point nilfgaard realizes that the ‘harmless’ bard has teeth and sends a small army

Jaskier really should have laid low and hid himself amongst the Mist ages ago, but he’s never been one for hiding (and frankly he’s a little bit insulted that nilfgaard seems to have thought him so easy to defeat and resolves to knock them down a few pegs)

Unbeknownst to the demigod/bard/whatever the hell else he is right now, there’s been a rather frantic witcher accompanied by a witch and a princess that have been searching for him for ages, following the trail of bloody groups of soldiers

Geralt hears of the army sent after his bard and reacts first with confusion on why an army is needed to take down one human man, and then feels blind panic. Rather hysterically, as he’s shoving his, yennefer, and ciri’s things into roach’s saddlebags, is the thought, he’s going to tear them apart

Which really makes no sense given that jaskier is fucking human, but geralt has always felt something off about him, something bigger, and regardless of that he’s seen jaskier’s more feral side and is comforted slightly by the thought that jaskier is hardly the type to go down without a wicked fight

Yennefer is less reassured by this information (your bard is going to get torn apart, not the other way around!) and ushers them off immediately 

When they reach the clearing where whispers of nilfgaardian soldiers has lead them, there is an entire small army present, at at the other side in the most bizarre looking fashion, is jaskier

He stands alone, but he does not look afraid

Jaskier faces the army of nilfgaardian soldiers, his doublet a shade of midnight blue, sword in hand, and a fierce look in his eyes that for some reason sends chills down geralt’s spine

He assesses the army, silent and calculating, finding something that nobody else can see 

The captain of the army shouts an order and the men charge forward, a smirk reaches jaskier’s lips

The army’s movement sparks geralt into action, what is he doing just fucking standing there, and he unsheathes his sword to somehow help his bard

But then there is a well manicured hand on his arm and a spell stopping his feet from moving farther, and geralt looks to yennefer to ask her what the hell she thinks she’s doing and pauses at the curious look in her eye

“Wait” she mumbles to him, brow furrowed, “Something isn’t right”

And geralt turns back to the battlefield and jaskier’s eyes are glowing

Jaskier sees the army charging forward and it takes everything in him not to laugh. They are fools, every single one of them

Jaskier whispers a quick prayer to the gods for luck (even though he doesn’t need it), and lets his magic explode

When the screams fade and there is nothing in the clearing but ash and blood drying in the dirt, jaskier wills his magic to return to his body

He scrubs at a little spot of blood that had managed to stain his sleeve, a new doublet at that, and considers maybe it is time to hide amongst the Mist, if not to save his poor beautiful clothing

The snap of a twig interrupts his musings and brings jaskier to alert, the hum of his magic singing through his veins, hands at the ready

Jaskier goes deadly still when across the clearing he spies two ghosts from his past, one of them with a rather unflattering look of shock across his face, and the other looking way too pleased with herself

When they both start to make their way to him, jaskier debates on whether he still has enough energy in him to shadow travel, anything to make a speedy getaway and the fuck away from this horrible confrontation

He raises his hands , willing the shadows to lengthen and warp, ignoring the persistence dizziness and figuring there’s no better way to find out than to try, only to be stopped by a sharp, “don’t even think about it bard”

His response is instant and without hesitation, “who the fuck made you the boss of me? If I want to get the hell away from here I’m very well going to, I don’t give fuck all what you’ve got to say about it”

Yennefer’s eyes narrowed and she snatched one of his hands, still shaking with overexertion. “I think your hands tell a different story, you’re exhausted.”

“Yes, well defeating armies will do that to anyone I suppose”, Jaskier reclaimed his hand and tried to ignore the fact that geralt had yet to do anything but stare

Purple eyes examined him carefully, “You never told me you had magic”

Jaskier laughed, a hollow sound even to his own ears, “I don’t really, not your kind. It’s a long story”

“Then you’ll have plenty of time to tell us when we get to Kaer Morhen”, at last, the White wolf had spoken and unsurprisingly jaskier liked absolutely none of what he had to say

He sputtered, and he was sure his cheeks were turning that infuriating shade of red they always assumed when he was particularly pissed off, “I’m not going with you anywhere!”

Geralt turned to the bard, focusing on him with an intensity that jaskier before the mountain would have killed to receive “Nilfgaard isn’t going to stop. They want Ciri. The armies will keep getting bigger and bigger, until whatever fucking powers you have aren’t enough”

Jaskier scoffed, crossing his arms across his chest “I can handle myself”

Something in Geralt’s eyes softened “I know you can. But you don’t, shouldn’t, have to. Come with us. Just for the winter. Then you can go wherever you want. Please”

There was a long moment between them, amber and blue staring into each other’s depths. Jaskier didn’t know what to think. It had been made clear on the mountain that the witcher didn’t give a damn about jaskier, and jaskier wasn’t big on wasting his time in places he wasn’t wanted. His heart wouldn’t be able to take it.

But geralt had never pleaded with him like that, never said please. There was a desperation in his eyes that jaskier had never seen before and without his permission he felt his heart melt a little. What was one winter?

“Fine.” jaskier spoke carefully, trying to ignore the small smile that formed on geralt’s face. “I’ll come for the winter. But after that I’m leaving and I’ll be out of your life for good”

Jaskier hadn’t forgiven Geralt. He was owed an apology, and a thousand other things. Yennefer was still a bitch, and he had no idea how geralt’s brothers and mentor would react to a demigod in their midst. But jaskier was lonely, and tired of being on his own, and as much  as he hated it there was a part of him that had desperately missed his witcher, no matter how much he had hurt him. 

It was just one winter, right?

He’d figure it out….. somehow

_______________

That went in an entirely different direction than I was originally intending, but the story just got away from me... I hope you enjoyed!

What do you think folks, worthy of a part 2?

[xotonin]

A Valentine's day with Bakugo (part 2)

genre: fluff

words: 1,921

→ summary: your mind began to play tricks on you as you and bakugo try to get through the stormy night, somehow making you guys closer

note: gender-neutral reader

(you can start part two without having to read part one.)

pt. 2/2

━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛ ✠ ┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You jumped when the house began to shake from the thunder, hearing Bakugo chuckle from your panic.

“Shut up! I know that scared you too!” You yelled at him in the dark, stumbling to get up. You needed to find a flashlight.

“How the hell could you see if I got scared? It’s pitch black, dumbass.” He said, and you could hear the smirk in his voice.

You walked past him, irritated, and almost stumbled over his feet as you tried making your way to the room located across from you. “Help me find a flashlight.”

You heard him sigh and get up from the couch, obliging. His steps got farther away from you, so you guessed that he was walking to another room to find a flashlight. So you were going alone, great.

Not only were you afraid of the dark, but your mind got so anxious that you began to see things that weren’t there, or worse, that were there. You tried to hold your composure as you aimlessly wandered throughout the room, going to one of the dressers and randomly feeling around.

Shit. Where was it? You bit your lip, beginning to get frightened. You and the dark don’t mix, and when you’re terrified, the sound becomes amplified, and the air becomes cold around you.

Your heart began to beat quickly as your hand picked up the pace, feeling around in between the clothes and at the end of the drawer. Where was it? Where was it? You swore it was here. You hurriedly opened the drawer below, doing the same thing.

And as if you weren’t scared enough, you started to hear footsteps, only causing you to tremble more. Shit. Shit. Shit. Why were you afraid of the dark in the first place? It’s was so stu—

“Hey, I found a flashlight,” Bakugo said, clicking the flashlight on, illuminating the room.

You leaped from Bakugo’s voice, almost knocking something over as you jumped. Your heart practically skipped out of your chest. You turned your head towards Bakugo, giving him an upset look. “Don’t do that!”

“I didn’t mean to scare you that bad.”

“How could I not get that scared? I’m in the pitch black!” You shouted at him, shutting the drawer.

“You’re such a loser.”

You rolled your eyes, your breath way too fast to reply. You walked towards Bakugo, forcibly turning him around in the direction of the door and pushing him to your room.

It was only then when you realized that he used his phone for a flashlight. You guys traveled through the kitchen and to your room, shutting the door and finally exhaling, your breath becoming steady now.

“We should tell scary stories.” Bakugo echoed behind you, who went to sit on your bed.

“Oh, hell no.” You shook your head, turning around and making your way to sit across from him. “I’m already scared.”

“Oh, come on! It’s not like you’re alone!” He opened his arms to signal that he was in the room. He was right. You weren’t alone, but it was still dark.

You scratched the back of your head, contemplating whether if it was a good idea, and as long as the stories weren’t too scary, then—

“Plea—”

“Fine!” You interrupted him before he could say anything else. “Nothing too scary, okay?” You warned him.

He perked up, shining the light under his face. “I’ll try.”

You took a breath to prepare yourself as you got yourself comfortable, listening to his made-up story. Of course, he had to start with the scary cliche style and tell it in a dull voice. Weirdly enough, his voice set the tone of the story and made you shudder when he continued.

Suddenly, Bakugo pounced towards you, imitating a loud noise in the story. You jumped, putting your hands up in defense. “I told you not to do that!”

Bakugo laughed at your frightened soul. “I had to make sure you were paying attention.”

You shoved him in annoyance, your heart pounding. “Well, I certainly am now!”

“You are such a scaredy-cat.”

“I don’t care.” You said, wanting the conversation to end. “Go get me candy.”

Bakugo rolled his eyes, knowing how afraid you were of the dark, and got up, walking out the door without a debate. When you saw him fade into the darkness, the room began to get cold around you once again. Shit.

You grabbed your phone that was stirred in the sheets and clicked the button that turned on the flashlight. But this time, It didn’t turn on. Your heart began to pound once more, clicking the button vigorously. Why wasn’t it turning on?

“Shit-” You mumbled to yourself, looking around the blank empty room. “Come on, turn on-”

Suddenly, scratching at your window made you cringe. You shot your head towards the direction of the noise, knowing a branch was scraping it, but it only added more to the eery vibe. Your breathing began to accelerate as you hit the flashlight button more, and on the last and final time, it came on.

You shot the light up, moving it around the room, trembling. Nothing was there. Why were you scared?

You started to realize that Bakugo should be back by now; where was he? It had been way too long. You bit your lip, not wanting to call out his name. That would show weakness. And you surely weren’t going to walk out in the pitch black outside of your door.

Then unexpected footsteps got near, and you shone the light in the doorway, revealing Bakugo standing there with drinks and candy. He raised his arms to block the blinding light. “It’s just me, dumbass.”

You put your phone down, watching him enter, and shut the door. “Why did you take so long??”

“I got us drinks, so I won’t have to leave the room again.”

You got taken aback, not expecting him to think that far ahead. “Oh—” you replied, grabbing the water that Bakugo handed you. “Thanks.”

After getting settled in with the candy, you guys began bickering about how afraid you were when he left. You played tough guy, and Bakugo wasn’t buying it. A few minutes passed with the argument until you blurted out you wanted to play a board game.

You got up, picking a random board game on your bookshelf, and set it on the floor, beginning to take the pieces out. Bakugo joined you on the other side. You guys barely got settled in the game before you started to hear a dripping sound.

You scrunched your brows as your attention drew to the door, wondering why you could hear it from your room. Bakugo looked at you oddly, taking a glance at the door and back at you. “What?”

“Do you hear that?” You asked him, finally making eye contact.

He shook his head. “You’re just freaking out again.”

You sighed. You knew you were freaking out. Why would you hear the water now instead of earlier? It didn’t make sense.

You guys continued to mess with your game as the drip faded into the distance until you couldn’t hear it anymore. But instead, you felt your abdomen start to become tight. You clenched your jaw, cursing to yourself quietly.

“What now?” Bakugo grumbled once again.

“Come with me to the bathroom.” You said, beginning to stand up, grabbing Bakugo’s shirt to make him stand. He sighed, following your lead because he didn’t have much choice. You yanked him to the bathroom door placed in the hallway of your house.

“Stay here.” You growled at him slightly. “And—put your foot under the door.”

“I’m not doing that.”

“I swear to God, Bakugo, do it.”

“Okay!” He whined. “Just shut up and go.”

You hurried and shut the door, making sure to catch a glimpse of his foot that stayed under the door. You wasted no time relieving yourself quickly, and right as you were about to wash your hands, you shone the light to the bottom of the door again, and his foot wasn’t there anymore.

Your heart began to pound as you quickly tried to wash your hands as fast as you could. “Bakugo, I swear to fucking God, this isn’t funny.” You dried your hands on your clothes and aggressively opened the door, showing no sign of Bakugo.

Your heart dropped, and you quickly walked back to your room, shutting the door out of breath. “Okay, that wasn’t funny.” You said, turning around and shining the light in the room. He wasn’t in here either.

What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck? Your breathing began to quicken until you heard slight laughing coming from your closet.

You stormed your way over to the door, swinging it open and revealing an amused Bakugo. You clenched your jaw. “What the fuck was that?”

“You should have seen your dumb face.” Bakugo snickered.

“Don’t do that again. I mean it.” You warned him once again.

“Or what?” Bakugo cooed, leaning close to you.

You backed up. You had no idea what you would do, but you suddenly said the first thing that came to mind.

“Or I’ll kiss you!” You growled, thinking he wouldn’t want to kiss you.

Bakugo looked at you with wide eyes until a sly smirk plastered across his face. “That only drives me to scare you again.”

You rolled your eyes, annoyed by his jokes. You packed up the board game and put it back, heading back to your bed. Bakugo followed you, climbing on top and sitting beside you.

“I’m gonna head to sleep.” You told Bakugo, looking at him to get off the bed.

“Can I sleep with you?” He asked innocently.

“Why—”

“Because I’m scared.”

“No, you’re not.” Your face showed no emotion. You knew he was lying.

“Yes, I am! That’s why I went to the closet; I couldn’t stand outside the bathroom door.”

“I’m not buying you on this.” You rolled your eyes, turning to face away from him, pulling the blankets over you. You didn’t want to fight anymore. “Fine.”

You felt Bakugo get himself comfy behind you, and you start to tune into the rain outside. Long minutes passed by as you began to feel your body relax and feeling yourself falling asleep.

But suddenly, Bakugo jumpscares you, causing you to jolt awake. Your heart began to pound as you turned over, about to shout at him, but before you could say anything, your mouth was blocked by his lips.

He kissed you roughly for a few seconds before pulling away. “Got you.” He said with a mischievous smile before turning over and pulling the blankets over him.

You laid there, shocked, wondering what just happened. “Dude, I told you not to do that!”

“Can’t hear you. I’m sleeping.”

You clenched your jaw, turning around, upset. Your breathing began to slow down, and your heart rate went back to normal as you got drowsy again, and just when you started to fall asleep, you felt arms wrap around you. You groaned, trying to push Bakugo off, but only to get a sleepy groan from him back. He wasn’t budging.

You didn’t want to admit it, like seriously, you didn’t, but you liked the warmth.

You finally gave up the fight and let the heat surround you, making you feel somewhat safer, making you tired. It oddly felt softer than if Bakugo wasn’t there. And with that, you fell asleep, nuzzling your head into your pillow.