#notes to self. do not show up an hour late. do not forget your shoes

[hana-bobo-finch]

I’m shadowing at the vet clinic in 2 days and I’m clearly not nervous at all because I definitely didn’t have a long winding, distressing dream in which the veterinarian made me play a game in which leif had to throw food at people and maki kicked his ass so bad that leif fucking died but don’t worry because the vet was there and he has magic healing powers and he brought leif back to life but he made sure to mention for some reason that leif doesn’t have chlorophyll because he’s not a plant

[cherryredlove]

☆ bloody kisses ☆

Modern! Vampire! Gwayne Hightower x Reader SMUT

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After getting unceremoniously dumped by your cheating ex and moping in your room alone, your best friend Laena decided its time for you to get back out there. Instead of drowning yourself in vodka like you planned to, you meet a handsome stranger who promises a night with a bite.

Word Count: 2.4k

Themes: SMUT, 18+, blood!!, blood drinking, really rough p in v, neck biting, praise, creampie, alcohol consumption

note gwayne isn't depicted as a vampire from any sort of series or show, he's just generically a vamp lol

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After a long, dreary day at work, you’re finally back in your apartment, throwing your keys onto the counter with a huff. You can still hear your boyfriend—no, ex-boyfriend’s—voice echoing in your head.

Jason Lannister. The epitome of a scumbag wrapped in expensive suits and golden hair, whose charm had first blinded you and now left you seething. You hadn’t even been surprised when you caught him cheating, really. He’d been pulling away for weeks now, finding excuses for late nights at the office, and acting suspiciously cagey about his phone.

“Good riddance,” you mutter to yourself, kicking off your shoes and making your way to the bedroom. You collapse on your bed, staring up at the ceiling, replaying the humiliating breakup over and over again. You knew he was a prick, yet somehow, it still stung.

The tears don’t come; perhaps they’re stuck somewhere in between shock and anger. All you feel is a numbing kind of sadness. You reckon you've been grieving this relationship for a while now.

Despite knowing you’re better off without him, the familiar weight of loneliness settles in your chest. With a groan, you reach for your phone, thinking about texting your best friend, Laena, but then decide against it. She’s probably busy, and you don’t want to drag her into your misery.

Just as you’re about to sink further into your self-imposed cocoon of pity, a loud banging at the door snaps you out of it. You blink, confused, until Laena’s voice reaches you.

“Hey, open up, babe! I brought reinforcements!”

You shuffle to the door and open it to find Laena standing there, a wide grin on her face and arms laden with Chinese takeaway bags. The savoury aroma of sweet and sour chicken wafts into your apartment, making your stomach rumble in response. You'd barely eaten thanks to the misery of Jason.

“Laena,” you sigh, stepping aside to let her in. “What are you doing here?”

“Saving you from the pits of despair,” she announces, sweeping past you and setting the bags down on the kitchen table. She turns, placing her hands on her hips. “I heard about the breakup. That bastard didn’t deserve you, anyway.”

You shrug, depressingly flopping down on a chair and grabbing a pair of chopsticks. “I know, but it still sucks."

Laena opens the containers, her expression softening. “It does. But you deserve better, and tonight, we’re going to forget about Jason Lannister. We’re going out.”

You pause mid-bite. “Out? I don’t know, Laena. I was planning to just wallow here.”

“Oh no, no, no,” she insists, shaking her head. “We’re hitting up The Alchemist’s Guild. It's the hottest place in King's Landing right now. There’s no way I’m letting you stay here and mope. And who knows, maybe a hot stranger will catch your eye?”

You chew thoughtfully, the idea slowly melting away your resistance. It’s been a while since you’ve let loose, and the idea of drowning your sorrows in music and drinks doesn’t sound too bad. Plus, Laena is incredibly persuasive.

“Fine,” you finally agree, much to her delight. “But I’m not promising that I'll be looking anything special.”

“Don’t worry, that’s why I’m here,” she says with a grin, pulling you into your bedroom to transform you for the night out.

An hour later, Laena’s makeover has you feeling like a different person. She’s chosen a striking black dress from the back of your wardrobe that hugs your curves perfectly and matches it with a bold red lipstick that screams party. Your eyes are lined with just the right amount of smokey shadow, making them pop, and your hair is styled to perfection.

“You look hot,” Laena declares, admiring her handiwork. “Jason who?”

You laugh, the heaviness of earlier starting to lift. “All right, let’s do this.” Laena, also dressed up in shimmering teal, screams excitedly, grabbing a shot of vodka for you each before you leave.

The Alchemist’s Guild buzzes with energy as soon as you step inside. The bar is packed, filled with people sipping colourful drinks and chatting animatedly under dim, atmospheric lights. You and Laena squeeze your way to the bar.

“Two Essos Elixirs please,” Laena says. She clinks her glass against yours when the drinks arrive.

“Cheers,” you say, taking a long sip. The pomegrante and vodka drink is fruity and strong, just what you need to kickstart the night.

As the night went on, you started to relax. The music, the drinks, and Laena’s infectious energy all combined to lift your spirits. After a while, she nudged you. “Let’s hit The Dragon Pit. I hear it’s wild tonight.” You both walk arm in arm to the club. You hear the music pumping several streets before you arrive.

It doesn’t take long for Laena to slip into the crowd, pulling you along with her as the music pulses around you. You lose yourself in the rhythm, dancing with Laena and screaming out your frustrations to the heavy music.

After a few songs, Laena nudges you. “I’m gonna grab another drink. Are you okay here?”

You nod, waving her off. “I’m good. Go.”

As Laena disappears back toward the bar, you continue dancing, revelling in the moment. The world fades away until it’s just you and the music, and it feels damn good.

A tap on your shoulder brings you back to reality, and you turn to see a tall, impossibly handsome man with auburn hair and striking eyes. His lips curl into a charming smile that’s almost predatory, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine.

“Mind if I join you?” he asks, his voice low and smooth, easily cutting through the noise.

“Not at all,” you reply, feeling your cheeks heat up as he steps closer, matching his movements to yours. His presence is exhilarating, drawing you in effortlessly.

“I’m Gwayne,” he introduces, leaning in slightly to be heard over the music.

You give him your name in return, trying not to be too obvious that you fancy the fuck out of him. He’s dressed impeccably in a tailored shirt that hints at the toned body beneath, and there’s an air of confidence about him that’s impossible to ignore. Jason Lannister couldn't hold a candle to this beautiful man in front of you.

As the song changes, Gwayne moves in closer, his hand resting lightly on your hip as you fall into a rhythm together.

The chemistry between you is electric, each glance and touch fanning the flames higher. When his fingers brush against your neck, a delicious shiver runs down your spine, and you tilt your head slightly, giving him silent permission. Gwayne seems entranced, and as he leans in, his lips graze your neck, igniting sparks that dance across your skin.

You lose track of time, lost in the moment, until Laena reappears beside you, a teasing grin on her face. She’s not alone; a blonde woman with bright eyes and a mischievous smile is by her side, clearly the reason for Laena’s extended absence.

“This is Rhaenyra,” Laena introduces, looping an arm around the woman’s waist. Rhaenyra gives you a knowing wink before turning her attention back to Laena, who’s already leaning in for a kiss.

Gwayne chuckles beside you, watching the interaction with amusement. “Seems like your friend is having a good time.”

You nod, feeling bold with a mix of alcohol and adrenaline. “So am I.”

Gwayne’s eyes darken slightly, his smile turning wicked. “In that case, how about we take this somewhere a bit more...private?”

Your heart skips a beat at the suggestion, the allure of what he’s offering far too tempting to resist. The club, with its flashing lights and pounding music, fades into the background as you consider his proposition.

“Sure,” you say, surprising yourself with the ease of your agreement. You nudge Laena to let her know, and she whoops loudly for you. You blush heavily as Gwayne laughs. It feels liberating, like stepping into a new world where you’re free to explore whatever you want without the shadow of the prick Jason looming over you.

Gwayne takes your hand, leading you through the throng of people and out into the cool night air. The streets are alive with the usual nightlife buzz, but Gwayne only has eyes for you. Now that you're away from the crowd, his eyes seem a little brighter, like there's liquid swirling in them. Were his teeth that sharp when he kissed you earlier?

His apartment is as stylish as you’d expect, a blend of modern decor and understated elegance. The moment you step inside, he’s on you again, his lips finding yours with a hunger that sets you aflame. You respond eagerly, wrapping your arms around his neck as he backs you toward the plush couch.

Gwayne’s focus on your neck returns, his lips trailing along your pulse with a near-reverent touch that sends tingles down your spine. It’s as though he’s savouring every moment, every taste, and you can’t get enough.

Eventually, he pulls back slightly, a curious gleam in his eyes. “You taste...incredible,” he murmurs, almost to himself. “Sweet, like nothing I’ve ever experienced before.”

The compliment sends a thrill through you, but there’s something more in his gaze, something deeper and darker that piques your curiosity.

“You’re not bad yourself,” you reply with a playful smile, tracing a finger along his jawline.

Gwayne chuckles, the sound rich and deep. “I have a proposition for you,” he says, his tone shifting to something more serious yet filled with desire. “Allow me to drink some of your blood. I promise you’ll find the experience...exquisite.”

The request takes you by surprise, and for a moment, you wonder if you’ve misheard.

"Blood?" You repeat with an incredulous laugh. "What are you, a vampire?" You giggle again, the amusement dying in your throat at his serious gaze. "Oh." You utter as he nods.

The sincerity in his eyes is undeniable, and a strange part of you isn’t entirely put off by the idea. In fact, it’s intriguing, offering a thrill of danger.

“What do I get in return?” you ask, curiosity winning over hesitation.

Gwayne’s smile widens like he's the cat that got the cream. "Riches, immortality. Name your price, my sweet."

You stared at him, your mind spinning. It should have scared you, but it didn’t. Instead, you felt a pang of excitement. “Only if you promise me a night of pleasure in return,” you replied, your voice steady.

His smile was one of pure delight. “Deal,” he said, his eyes gleaming. You smile back, equally hungry as you both lunge towards each other, hands digging into flesh as you kiss viciously.

Gwayne, with inhuman strength, grasped your hips and moved you atop him. You instinctively ground your hips down, gasping with delight as you felt his hardness press against your blazing pussy.

Gwayne lets a dark smile pull at his lips as he kneads your ass with sharp nails. You only pull apart to allow him to pull your dress over your head, ripping off your panties and bra. You mewl at the unfairness, hands begging to touch him. He rips his own shirt off, revealing toned muscles with pale skin. You rock harder against him, feeling his growing arousal as your pussy leaks over his trousers.

"Naughty girl," he rasps. "These trousers were expensive."

"Fuck the trousers," you mumble. "Fuck me instead."

"Oh how can I deny such a sweet request from my darling," Gwayne laughs, kissing you fiercely and unbuttoning his trousers. The way your pussy reacts to his hard lengthy cock makes your eyes roll back as Gwayne situates your hips above his.

You sink onto his hips, the sharp pain of his entering soon replaced by a luscious fullness that makes the most lewd noises fall from your parted lips.

Gwayne's eyes are alight with fire, a snarl pulling at his lips as his hands bounce you up and down on his cock. Hot pleasure licks at your insides as you ride him.

"Time to pay up, my sweetling." Gwayne rumbles against your lips, leaning down as you feel a sharp, sweet pain as his teeth sink into your neck, followed by a rush of pleasure that left you breathless.

Lightheaded and buoyed by the sensual feel of Gwayne suckling at your neck, your pussy bursts ablaze with a hot orgasm, your fingers deftly rubbing your clit as you cry out. Your pussy liquid seeps over his thighs. Gwayne moans against your neck, eyes rolling back at the sweetness of your blood as he pulls back. He licks your wound, lips and jaw dripping in your redness. Lightheaded, you moan at his glistening teeth, reaching to kiss him.

"I'm not finished with you yet, sweet thing." Gwayne moans, pulling you up to lie you on your back on the sofa. He grabs your hips to align his cock to your weeping hole.

He notches his cock against you, pushing in to your sensitive pussy. Gwayne's eyes flutter at how tight your pussy grips, yet he can't relinquish the sight of you writhing and mewling beneath him. Lips curled, he snaps his hips at a punishing pace, watching your tits bounce and mouth release the most lewd sounds of pleasure he's heard in a very long time.

"Gwayne," you stutter out, head swirling and pussy aching. "I'm so close!"

"Good, my pet, cum for me. Let me fill you up like a good girl, sweet one. I'll own you, you'll own me." He rasps against your lips as you crest your peak once more, crying to the heavens as your pussy quakes. Gwayne follows swiftly, cursing loudly and fucking his hot cum deep into you.

He watches your eyelids flutter close and he sighs softly, smiling. As you sleep, he carries you to the human bed he has for decor, resting you down and cleaning your wound and thoroughly fucked body.

You wake up sometime later, utterly spent and completely satisfied, in Gwayne's arms. Gwayne looked down at you, his eyes filled with something you couldn’t quite name.

“You’re incredible,” he whispered, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

“So are you,” you replied, smiling up at him. He grins sharply.

"I may have to keep you around. You keep up well with me for a human, but you'd do even better as a vampire."

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AN: whew more gorgeous gwayne for you! im a sucker for the gothic and vampires so this had to happen. pretend laena and nyra aren't related btw. brought back the chinese takeaway here lol! lmk any ideas or rqs yall got, check out my masterlist for more smexy times and modern aus! luv phoebe ☠︎︎

[ncroissant]

aquamarine hoshino x jealous! bimbo! reader

summary: after aqua's passionate kiss with akane on the final episode of 'love for real', aqua comes to home to your jealousy.

content warnings: spoilers to oshi no ko, suggestive, mentions of cock/crotch, toxic relationship, controlling behaviour, dacryphilia, manipulation, use of petnames: angel, sweetheart, good girl like once, no use of yn

wc: 1.2k

author's note: aqua is 16 in the anime and manga, mentally 40, but i'd like to age him up to 18!! this is not proofread, so there are probably a lot of mistakes, lmk if i need any more warnings!! minors please DNI !!

you spent most of your days encased in aqua's basement. he made the entire place feel like home; decorating it in pretty pink wallpaper and making sure you had anything in reach. whenever you asked for something, he would provide. he was fully set on servicing you as long as you obliged to his one and only rule:

'stay in this room, don't leave without my permission'

he would drill it into your brain like clockwork, never letting you forget, especially since you were likely to forget within a few seconds. you'd look up at him doe-eyed, hanging off his every word. you loved when he would tell you what to do and you could just blindly follow along. he was your best friend after all.

he spent a lot of his time with you: he'd check on you before and after school, he'd listen to you talk about the animes you watched and the mangas you read, or do his work assigned by the director while you sat in his lap, questioning every little detail.

but as of late, he came around to visit less and less, to the point where you would hear him come into the basement late at night, slipping under the covers to cuddle with you.

he convinced himself that you were the one insistent on being touchy-feely, but he was self-indulgent in the way you'd bury yourself in his arms, snuggling deep into his chest.

"aqua?" you'd mumble, feeling him wrap his arms around your waist.

"sorry angel, did i wake you?" he slid an arm on your back, rubbing it soothingly to lull you to sleep.

"no, s' okay, i missed you aqua," you flipped over, wrapping your arms around his neck, inserting yourself into his neck.

he reeked of women's perfume. you wanted to convince yourself he was going around stores finding you your perfect scent. but a pit in your stomach grew and you didn't understand why.

aqua would never tell you he was on a dating show. for one, he only needed to go on it to find clues on ai, but he also didn't want you to worry your pretty head over it. as much as he loved to see the frustration on your face when you were thinking, he knew he'd have to lighten the load for you.

it was tv day, aka saturday, because he was very insistent that TV was very, very bad for you and could only be watched for an hour a week. and miraculously, that hour was filled with content from the last episode of 'love for real'.

you sat there anticipatingly, already shocked from aqua's appearance in the intro, but the final moments had caught you off guard. although the two other guys had gotten rejected, aqua had marched over to the blue-haired girl, akane as you remembered, and placed a long, passionate kiss on her lips.

your eyes widened. he might have done a lot of things for you, but he's never kissed you before. he's never looked at you like that (at least not when you were looking). the tv automatically closed (as aqua had programmed it) and left you with a reflection of your teary-eyed expression.

your knees were pressed against your chest, your arms tightly holding them in place. you wanted to throw a tantrum, a fit, anything that would get rid of this stupid anger inside of you.

as if on queue, the lock on the door unlocked and in walked aqua. "hi angel, how was you day?" he slipped off his shoes, placing his bag down before looking over at you.

"aqua, why didn't you tell me you were on a dating show?" you pushed yourself onto all fours, kneeling in front of him with your stupidly big, round eyes, clinging to his tapered pants.

his eyes widened. he didn't know if it was a treat or a curse to see you in such a state. but, hearing that you saw the show snapped him out of his trance.

"how did you...?" shit. they changed the airing for this episode for saturday instead on sunday, he mentally cursed himself, remembering the fuss the crew made about it earlier.

his thoughts were cut by your sudden display of waterworks, burying your face into his thigh, hugging it like a babbling baby. "are you getting tired with me already?" you sobbed, pulling and pushing at the fabric of his pants.

he felt bad, he really did. but the way you were looking up at him so sweetly and clinging onto him like a little girl made his cock strain in his pants. he was biting back a smile before kneeling down to you level.

"so you saw it, huh?" he frowned slightly, holding the hand that gripped his thigh in his own.

"mhm," you nodded, crying incessantly, trying to wipe away your tears with a free hand.

"aw, c'mere sweetheart. let's get your tears out," he pulled you into his lap, allowing you to bury yourself into his shoulder as he patted your back soothingly.

you cried, rambling about how he didn't tell you and how he's never kissed you before. before you knew it, your hands had boldly gripped his shirt collar.

"why can't you kiss me like you kissed her, aqua? do you like her better?" you puffed your bottom lip out, tears still filling your waterline, leaning too close for aqua's comfort. you so badly wanted to be kissed by him too.

"angel, you know i can't kiss you, it's..." he trailed off, pursing his lips in thought.

it's not that he didn't want to kiss you. he felt like he was too tainted to even think about pressing his lips against yours. you were too pure and innocent. not a single thought inside your pretty little brain.

little did he know, all you could think about was him.

"aqua, please i wanna kiss." you pushed your lips out like a fish, clearly unfamiliar with kissing. he sighed in relief, but also somehow felt nervous to lean in.

he had countless fantasies about kissing you. more dreams beyond just kissing, but dreams of being intimate with you. if you hadn't shifted yourself right on top of his cock, he wouldn't have hastily pushed you down with his lips pressed against yours.

you squealed in surprise from the sudden movement, but he protected your head when you two had tumbled to the floor. he pulled away to look at you, both of you out of breath from the intensity of the kiss.

you looked so pretty just waiting for him to continue and let him do whatever he wanted to. he knew you'd agree with whatever he told you to do. but he wanted to relish in the fact that you were lying there so perfectly, patiently waiting his next command like such a good girl.

"you still want another one?" he teased, inspecting the redness on your face that trailed down the entirety of your body.

"mhm, wanna get her taste off your lips." his cock pulsed at your sudden possessiveness. you didn't even know how to kiss 10 seconds ago, but he wanted to see how much he could teach you in one night.

"yeah, you'll help me like a good, little girl, right?" he dragged you closer by the thigh before pressing his lips on yours once more.

[badkarma-a]

Bartender!Mikasa x Tattoo Artist!Reader

synopsis: After a messy break up, and promising yourself to take a break from the dating scene and heal. You’d think that would be the end of it. Until you meet a pretty bartender with eyes the color of the moon.

note 1: The Moon Lit Bartender - wc: 5k

song: Les by Childish Gambino

warnings: Explicit sex (Vaginal fingering), Swearing, Mentions of past relationships, Drinking, Suggestive jokes(Ymir makes a suggestive hand signal, that’s about it.)

taglist: open!

previously | masterlist | next

Tonight’s mission: Forget the past 48 hours

The mission being made on the car ride to the club, after you thought back on the past two weeks, and more specifically the past 48 hours. The 4 year relationship you previously had, all being thrown out by the letter Pieck got in the mail two week ago. Stating where she has matched for residency, showing the answer big and bold.

University Of Oxford for Endocrinology and Metabolism.

All the way in the United Kingdom. You knew the possibility of her matching somewhere far, but deep down the selfishness of her wanting to stay made you stay sane. Eventually, the constant self reassurance of her not going far, resulted in you forgetting the high chance of her leaving the country. The bold print on the off white card stock, proving it.

Pieck was a ball of excitement as she got the news. Her pitch went higher than normal, and her jaw dropped before clenching in pure joy. She had been in school for what felt like an eternity, and her residency being the number two school in Endocrinology, made her feel like all her hard work paid off.

You were beaming at her, smiling in excitement over your girlfriend's achievement. After the news, you guys had been over the moon. Constantly treating Pieck to lush dinners and gifts, to congratulate her. When she went to sleep though, you still had the tingly feeling of fear in your stomach. The UK is so far away, and you both never really discussed the fact her moving was a possibility.

One day, Pieck was talking about all the things in the United Kingdom she was gonna do and see, and all the food she’s gonna try. You had known medical school was what Pieck was destined to do, but you didn’t realize the lengthy amount of schooling. Majoring in English Literature and minoring in Philosophy, you never really even looked into medical school. You had been dating since Pieck started medical school, being there for each other through all the four years it. While she was in her schooling, you had been in and out of jobs, due to them never fitting or other issues. Journalist, Editor, Reporter, you had tried most of the fields for English Literature majors. Until a year ago, where you got your first tattoo on your left bicep, and realized you wanted to pursue something completely different. Being a tattoo artist.

You had come home late, because of a meeting you had with the owner of the tattoo shop you intern at. Hange had said she was proud of the improvement you’ve had, and gave you the opportunity to tattoo her. Having idolized her for so long you couldn’t deny her, and ended up tattooing a little titan on her forearm she designed. Always having a fixation on weird things like titans, which explains the shop's name, Titan Tattoo’s. You weren’t surprised when you saw the design she created. Once the tattoo was finished, the ticking of the clock could be heard, stating it was just past eleven. Seeing how dark it was outside, you abid Hange a goodbye and started the walk to your guys’ shared apartment. The apartment was only half a mile away so you walked, since it probably would have been longer to wait for the train. Once you got home, you kicked your shoes off at the door and set your bag down on the rack by the door. Once you entered the living room you could see Pieck sitting on the couch, sitting in silence fiddling with the ring on her left hand.

An argument broke out almost immediately. Pieck was saying how she didn’t like you being out this late, and you telling her it was inevitable because of her job, and never having structured hours. Pieck is on her break from medical school, expecting to not go to her residency for at least two more months, so she had been alone at the house all day. The argument was fairly tame, easily fixable, until Pieck said what she decided that day.

“I’m going to the UK in a week.”

Her reasoning for leaving earlier being that she wanted to get acclimated to the new country, before starting her schooling. After her also telling you her residency will be four years long, her only being able to see you for a few months in the summertime, brought up the discussion of long distance. You said you could handle it, but Pieck on the other hand had doubts. Saying you never answer your phone, and that she wants someone who will give her all their attention. You shot back at the fact it seemed she was dancing around wanting to break up, and that she was making it seem as if you don’t try in the relationship.

The argument ended in you both heated and frustrated, and Pieck handing you her ring.

The one you bought her for your guys’ three year anniversary.

The action showed the results of the conversation. Pieck stated she was moving anyways, and that in a week she’ll be completely gone. She packed up all her stuff fairly fast, and officially left for the UK yesterday.

To try and distract yourself with the fact she was now no longer your girlfriend, you still went into work the day she left, and the days she was still here. Deciding against a goodbye, thinking it would be much for the both of you. Your friends at the shop could tell the change in the atmosphere at the shop, not hearing you laugh or make jokes at things on your phone. They knew you had just ended your serious relationship, and didn’t really feel well, so they just let you be.

Then came today, you had the day off and were cleaning up the apartment, now that it’s only you. The strong smell of lavender from the candle you lit hours prior, and the smell of lemon and bleach, from the countertop cleaner you used to scrub your counter. Your fingernails brittle from the bleach, and your hands dry, after scrubbing at every spot possible. As you were vacuuming, you had headphones on playing music to sound out the roar of the vacuum. You had already wiped the kitchen clear, you and Pieck were already so busy it was rare you guys made home cooked meals. With Pieck’s long hours on homework, and your strenuous hours bent over tattooing, it was rare. Your music suddenly dimmed, playing the chime indicating you got a new text. You stopped the vacuum and left it sitting up, as you sauntered over to your phone grabbing it, seeing a message from a group chat that had some people from work in it.

Me and Annie were talking, we think you should come out to the bar with us. - Ymir, 5:56 PM

I’m not taking no for an answer, I’ll be there to pick you up at 8, dress up and treat yourself. - Ymir, 5:57 PM

I agree - Annie, 5:57 PM

Thanks for the participation Annie. - Ymir, 5:57 PM

You chuckled at the texts, and sent a thumbs up to show you received the message. Setting your phone down and resuming your music, turning the vacuum back on to finish cleaning the floors.

As the clock closes to 8, you decide to treat yourself. You did your makeup similar to what you always have done, but pairing it with a complementing shade on your lips. Simple yet really pulls the look together. Your clothing flattering your figure, and showing off the tattoo’s adorning your arms. For the first time in the last 48 hours, you felt happy with yourself. The effects from the break up, had made you forget about taking care of yourself, and seeing yourself put together put a smile on yourself.

Paradis Bar is where you guys always go, enjoying the calm atmosphere mixed with the colorful drinks. The glass doors led into the bar, with a dark ambiance mixed with the red and orange lighting. The gray cement floors, that the light beams off, are very clean every time. There’s some round tables surrounded by stools that covered the free area. While the bar had a luxurious feeling of granite countertops, with candles every so often lit on top. The glass alcohol bottles on the back of the wall, the light making the liquid vibrant. The bartenders were always fit in white button downs and black pants, or sometimes the black button downs.

Which led you to where you are now, sitting at the bar watching your friends chat up new people. You talked a bit alongside them, but now you’ve been sitting at the bar for the past ten minutes, sipping on a Cosmopolitan. While the lull of Childish Gambino plays at the bar, leaving a comforting atmosphere.

“You’ve been nursing that drink for the past ten minutes, do you like it?”

A sweet and alluring voice says from the bar, you turn to see the woman the voice belonged to. She was quite beautiful, with strong facial features, eyes the same color as the moon, and dark hair representing the place the moon resides. Her hair framed her face perfectly, curling in around her cheeks and stopping just below her cheek bones.

“Yeah, sorry it’s great, just think I need something maybe a bit stronger?” You told her, sipped down the rest of the drink to prove to her that it was indeed good. She looked over your facial features, seeing your smudged mascara under your eyes, and the lipstick on the top of your hand from when you presumably wiped it off.  

“I think I have an idea, any specific reason for a stronger drink?” She says as she grabs a cup from beside her and whips around grabbing assortments of alcohol. As she pours ice and liquor into the cup, you tell her you are just simply tired and the past few days have been a lot on you. Until you see just under the sleeve of her black button up, that's folded up at her elbows, some black ink adorning her forearm.

“What do you have a tattoo of?” You ask her, sitting up straight maybe being able to get a better look of it. As she adds a lime on the rim of your drink and pushes it towards you. The drink was a pale translucent green color, looking like a beautiful liquid emerald in the glass.

“Try this, it’s a Tokyo Iced Tea,” she states, grabbing a small towel whipping down her work surface. The place was starting to quiet as more people started to leave, the bar only having me and another couple across from me. You grab the medium sized glass and take a sip of the cocktail. The taste of alcohol hitting the back of your throat, causing you to make a face, but smile after words.

“It’s really good! I’ve never had this before,” you say, before taking another sip from it, no longer making a face. As you sip on your drink, you feel a tap on your shoulder seeing Annie and Ymir hanging onto each other.

“We ordered an uber, you coming?” Annie asks, as the woman who made your drink takes a quick glance at your friends before putting her head down and continuing to wipe off the bar.

“I’ll take the train, text me when you guys get home safely,” you smile at them, and take a sip of your drink. Ymir sends a knowing look before making suggestive motions involving her mouth and her hand. You roll your eyes at Ymir’s antics, and turn around as they begin to head towards the exit.

“Is it appropriate for me to ask for your name,” you say, starting to feel the effect of the alcohol taking over your body. As she stays silent, you tell her your name hoping maybe it will give her comfort enough to tell you her name. To no avail, she just smiles as you tell her about your name and how you got it.

“Well if I can’t get your name, can I know what your tattoo says?” You smirk as you drink the last part of your drink, leaving the lime and the ice sitting in the glass. She looks at you and starts to roll the sleeve on her right arm up a bit more, to show the tattoo in all its glory. Showing a delicate single needle tattoo of three birds right by each other.

“That’s beautiful, what’s the meaning behind it?” You said, not realizing how invasive the question may be. Suddenly starting to profusely apologize and saying she doesn’t have to answer that.

“It’s fine, I got it for me and my two friends. We went to the beach and I got it there on a whim, but it’s supposed to represent us.” She smiles, as she rubs over the tattoo with her thumb, before pulling her sleeve down a bit to cover it as before.

“Well then I guess I’ll just get to know you as the girl with the bird tattoo,” you smile as you put your elbows on the table, and set your head on your hands.

You try to converse more with her, usually resulting in you just talking to her. Asking her about the bar and what her favorite drinks are, as well as stories from working as a bartender. While she was short with her answers, you found out her favorite drink is either a French 75, or Indigo Sunset. She said she doesn’t usually drink strong drinks, so opting for something lighter. She also told you a story of being a bartender at this bar, and how a man tried to jump on top of the bar and strip. Until she grabbed him down by his calves, and had the guy she was working with escort him.

You hiccuped at the story, chuckling at the idea of her taking this big man out of the bar. From the outline of her button up, you could tell she definitely had muscle to her. Her forearms having muscle to them, and ultimately being very attractive, paired with the button up rolled up to her elbows. The button up has the top two buttons undone, showing her collar bones, and the top of her chest. Being able to see a small curve of where her breasts are, and the black lace of her bra strap.

The night goes by fast for you, as you tap your phone to see the big 12:07 AM beaming at you. Also seeing a text from Annie, saying she got home safe, and that she took Ymir home so she’s safe as well. You watch as the bartender you’ve been talking to all night moves around to grab her stuff. As you stand up, your knees are wobbly after not standing for quite awhile, and the mix of alcohol in your system. You feel your knees begin to buckle in, as you feel an arm go under yours and grips onto your waist. As you look over, seeing tonight's beauty, holding you up.

“Jean, can you lock up?” she says, looking at the tall man with a mullet at the bar. He yells off a yes, and tells her to have a nice night.

As you lean your head on her shoulder, you both walk down the street, as you tell her about what bus stop you’re going to. The smell of rain is still fresh, due to the rain earlier. Mixing with the sound of your guys’ shoes hitting the pavement, and the every so often buzz of bugs around. The early November weather, sending a chill down your spine. The height difference between you two is small, yet to you it’s comforting. Just a few inches away, is the beautiful 5’7 woman’s face. The glow of the moon reflecting off her pale cheeks, as she holds you up. You try not to be a bother and go by yourself, but once she sees you almost trip again, she decides to continue to keep a hold on you. She tells you it’s not a worry, and that the train station is only just a block away from her apartment.

As both walk down the cracked sidewalk, there’s a sweet but musky scent. The scent has strong notes of a flower, like an Orchid, and Patchouli. You make a slight sniffing sound and close your eyes, trying to follow the scent. When your nose meets the black haired woman's shoulder.

“Sorry, I just smelt your perfume and it’s really nice,” you smile, and go back to laying your head on the shoulder. As you both walk towards the station, you talk about your work, and how you’re so close to finishing your apprenticeship, almost becoming an official tattoo artist, and then she did what you didn’t expect. She asked you about it.

“Where do you work?” She questions, still keeping her hand on your waist and her other hand holding your wrist that’s around her neck.

“I work at Titan Tattoo’s, I’ve been an apprentice for around 6 months now. It’s just a few blocks from your bar I think. The two girls who asked if I wanted to get in the uber with them? They work with me, except they’ve been there longer and aren’t apprentices. They have their own set up in the shop. I work under the owner of the building as her apprentice though, she’s super nice.” You ramble off, watching as your feet match up with the woman holding you up.

It may seem like from afar that the woman beside you isn’t listening, but as you talk she hums in agreement from time to time. Once you reach the lit up train station, you take your head off her shoulder, standing up straight.

“Thank you for tonight, I really needed it, sorry if I bothered you though.” you laugh and look at your shoes nervously. Before you hear the usually quiet women talk.

“I enjoyed it as well, and get home safely.” she gives you a small smile, that to most could be seen as just a resting face. Once you realize this could be the last time you see her, the adrenaline from the past drinks, friends, music, and her, comes rushing through you. You push up onto your toes, crease your shoes as you do it, and lay a kiss on her lips. You felt bad as you kissed her, knowing you probably tasted alcohol, despite feeling as sober as possible in the moment.

The kiss lasted only a few seconds, more than a peck, but nothing more than a quick kiss. As you went back onto your heels, you can see her slightly flushed face.

“Sorry, I just knew the possibility of this being the last time I saw you.” You smile, hoping you didn’t leave her too spooked. When you suddenly feel light pressure on your forehead, from the lips that you previously just kissed. When her lips were no longer on your forehead, you’re met face to face with her beautifully lit face.

“I don’t normally do this, but it’s late and if you want you could come to my apartment,” she says, keeping her hands cradling your face. You nod your head, still in shock from her offer. As you both turn around, hand in hand, walking the opposite direction of the train station.

“I’m gonna call you my love since you won’t tell me your name,” you smile and nuzzle up on her arm, in hopes she’ll give you her name. When she grumbles and says, ‘that’s fine with me’ you knew you weren’t gonna get it out of her.

Mikasa, on the other hand, was surprised with herself. She has never had a one night stand, and doesn’t know what came over her. She usually just goes about her day, not caring what people at the bar say to her. Let alone walk them to her house. Something came over her, and at this point she’s not mad at it. She enjoyed listening to you ramble about your job, and the work you’ve gotten to do. While at some points in the night, you did just look like a drunk girl, you were quite whimsical. Your smudged makeup, the way your lips naturally pout, the tattoos that adorn your body, they all made Mikasa swoon.

As you two walked in the direction of her house, Mikasa looked at you only to see the top of your head, and accidentally, the swell of your breast just below. Quickly, she pulled her eyes away, hoping to not have her be seen.

Mikasa tries her best to remain calm, she hasn’t had someone over in quite awhile. Due to her late nights at the bar, and her friends having contradicting schedules, it was rare for them to hang out in general. Her apartment isn’t what she’s worried about, it’s the idea of bringing a girl from the bar to her house. Anxiety begins to fill her up, and doubt herself.

As they reach Mikasa’s apartment, she fumbles with her keys a bit, before getting the click notifying her of the unlocked door. She opens the door wide, guiding you inside, following you close behind. She locked the door quickly behind her, as you marveled at the apartment in front of you, while kicking your shoes off.

Mikasa’s apartment was tidy, extremely tidy. From the hardwood floor, to her book shelves on either side of her tv. She has dark hard wood floors, that would make any dust prominent, but to your eyes, there’s none. The wall’s are a pale gray, that to some could be considered white. Her dark gray couch stands out against the walls, with the throw pillows put into the corners. Her tv mounted on the wall was a modest size, above a dark wood console table that had a white ceramic container, having a leafy plant sprouting from it. The walls were fairly bare, except for a few pieces of artwork. Most in neutral colors, ranging from abstract pieces to black and white photos.

“Your apartment is so put together, I'm jealous of how perfect it is.” You say as you make small steps around, hearing the satisfying click of your shoes. Mikasa grabs your hand, preventing you from wandering the apartment too much. Before you could ask her any more questions, she kisses you with her hand firmly holding you by your nape, moving up to massage the scalp of your unruly hair. Mikasa moves you with ease, as you hum in her mouth with delight. Mikasa’s kiss felt never ending, every time she stopped to get more air, you thought she’d stop, but she never did.

Suddenly you feel her plush comforter at the back of your knees, it’s pillowy soft against your legs. You pull away from the kiss to fall onto your forearms on the bed, seeing the white comforter, and her beautiful panting face. When her hand suddenly is back to gripping your head, more specifically your jaw. Pulling you back into a kiss, making a humming sound when your tongues make contact with each other. Her grip on your jaw was strong, but your grip on her head was just as strong.

When suddenly you feel her hand on the outside of your right thigh, caressing it and every so often squeezing it. As you move your legs around, your dress begins to get higher and higher up your leg. As her hand gets higher, you suddenly feel the wind against your upper thigh, revealing your dress is now at your hips. Leaving her hand not near your exposed underwear.

Mikasa’s touches are soft and airy. She never stops kissing you, and lets her right hand wander around your thigh. Once she opens her eyes for a few seconds, and see’s how high your dress has gone up, she now lets her hand toy with the sides of your underwear. She takes her hand off your jaw, grabbing behind your knee, and putting it up by your chest. Holding you there while her other hand ghosts over your clothed heat. Until she puts one of her knees beside your body on the bed, and quickly pulls your underwear off and throws them beside her on the ground. At the sudden coldness hitting you, you moan a bit into her mouth.

Mikasa began to move her hand to your now exposed heat, and started to rub slow soft circles on your clit. You break apart from the kiss, letting out a groan.

“Please! Go faster please!” You beg, as she leaves kisses all over your neck. At hearing your request. She begins to pick up her speed, her fingers quickening. The pleasure from her just rubbing is toying at your brain, until you feel the hand holding your leg up leave. You weren’t left confused for too long, when you suddenly feel her leave your neck, and is left at the end of your bed staring at your dripping cunt.

The first thing she did was pepper wet kisses along your thighs, while a finger started prodding at your entrance. She then dipped her finger in easily and started easing in and out of you. Your hands have a mind of their own, as your hands go and grip her hair, running it through her short cut. When her mouth kisses all over your thigh, she then begins to leave slow kisses all down your cunt, which causes an even louder moan out of you.

“Please! I’m close, just please don’t stop!” You cry out, squeezing her head between your thighs. When her tongue suddenly starts to flick over your clit, and she adds another finger slowly. She has you on the verge of tears, as she proceeds to pick up speed, as you whine out pleas.

“What did you say you’d call me?” She says lifting up, having arousal on her chin. You look down at her disheveled appearance, and think about her question. You stutter a few times, not knowing what she’s talking about.

“What are you even saying,” you sputter out. She begins to squeeze your thighs tighter, as she halts her fingers. Leaving you whining out.

“What did you say you’d call me at the bar?” Mikasa states, staring directly at you. She was desperate to hear you, your sweet delicate words, calling her such pretty names. She watches as your eyes roll to the back of your head, overwhelmed with the pressure and heat.

“Please my love, I’m so close, so so close,” you cry out, leaning your head back. As her tongue went back to swirling around your clit but at a faster speed, at the same time her fingers started to go at a faster pace, not to mention harder. At this point, you’re seeing stars. You let out a long overdue moan, notifying her of how you start to become undone. The sweat on your temple begins to drip, as well as the beads of sweat down the valley of your breast.

Mikasa looked down at you, looking at the fucked out look on your face, and the cum seeping out. She quickly walked into the bathroom connected to your room, hoping you’ll stay panting on her bed. She swipes a hand towel from the rack in her bathroom, and turns on warm water before quickly putting the towel under it, proceeding to ring the water out of it. Leaving her with a warmly damp towel, laying in her head as she comes back to see you as before. She goes over and sits by your tired self, and lays the towel on your forehead.

“You did so good,” she mumbles as she wipes away the sweat on your head. Then fold the towel over, onto a clean area, and wipe down any cum or sweat on your legs. Proceeding to throw it into the hamper in the corner of her room, as she sees your eyes struggle to stay open. At the sight of your tired self, she moves you to the top of her bed and puts your legs under the blanket. You hum in delight, and wiggle around to get comfortable. Once Mikasa sees sleep has taken over you, she goes back into the bathroom, seeing her disheveled state. Her hair going in multiple directions, and her face having a pink tint to it. Not to mention, the dark splotches beginning to appear on her neck, and your lipstick kisses on the white collar of her shirt.

Mikasa grips the granite table of her bathroom, arching her back looking down. She’s shocked with herself, she’s never done something like this before. That’s not saying she’s pure, not at all. She’s just never slept with someone on a whim, but she feels exhilarated, in a good way. She quickly peaks her head into the bedroom, seeing you still in a daze. She’s not surprised, you already were a bit tipsy.

She sighs out a quick “fuck” as she looks at you, you didn’t even know Mikasa’s name, cause she refused to give it out. She didn’t plan this out, she didn’t have any plans for the aftermath. Is she gonna be here in the morning? Is this gonna be a thing? Was this her first ever one night stand? Questions circulate her head, as she begins to unbutton her shirt, shrugging it off her shoulders. Next, she quickly took off her work pants, grabbing her clothes and walking into her room. Throwing the clothes in the hamper, then rummaging through her clothes for her night shirt and shorts, before slipping them on.

As she turns around, she sees you happily asleep on one side of her bed. Mikasa pushes her questions and concerns to the back of her head, walking across the cold hard wood floors sliding into bed beside you. At first she faces you, looking at your features, admiring them and all their beauty. Before lazily turning on her other side, the enticing lull of sleep displayed a strong grip on her as she began to fall asleep.

Authors note: ahh it’s here!! I’m so excited to be finally posting this after planning it for so long! It felt right to post this after this weeks episode :). As always reblogs and advice are always appreciated!

© badkarma-a

[starlit-scarlet]

Stress

Pairing: Levi x Reader

Word Count: ~1.9k

This is a somewhat self-indulgent fic I decided to write this morning. Levi gets to comfort reader who's stressed out from school and an internship. Always such fun :) haha

Another long day of school, followed by hours at your internship where you got the thrill of doing all the work and reaping none of the benefits, and you finally staggered into your home, the sun having set below the horizon hours ago. Shutting the door closed behind you— metaphorically shutting away the day— you pressed your back against the door, eyes fluttering shut as you desperately tried to will away the migraine you could feel coming on at the base of your skull.

Fuck, could this day get any worse?

Tears pricked at the back of your eyelids, long having since wondered if any of this was even worth it at this point. Half the time you thought you’d made the wrong choices, picked the wrong path, yet here you were, continuing to truck along, because that was what you were supposed to do. Without having realized, the purse you’d been holding had slipped from your hand to land with a gentle thump on the floor.

The memory of the day flickered across your mind, remembering all the ways you’d apparently screwed up, your asshole of a supervisor never hesitating to remind you of that. Yet she always seemed to forget the way you made sure her files were always neatly organized in the proper drawers, the way you were always on time, never late, always willing to stay late when she needed you. The way your notes were careful and methodical, documenting as much of her time spent with clients as possible.

No. None of that she gave a shit about. She simply seemed hell-bent on pointing out each and every blunder you made.

‘You fucked up big time with that client. How you've gotten this far in your career and education, I haven't a clue. Go get me some coffee. Maybe that, you won’t screw up.’

It wasn’t that you minded criticism. No. You welcomed it. But there was a difference between constructive criticism meant to help you improve, and criticism meant to tear you down.

And you were doing all of this for an overpriced piece of paper that you weren’t even sure was worth it anymore.

Is this something I even want to do anymore?

Sighing, you pushed yourself off the door, wincing at the pull of your back. Sitting all day with shitty posture put a strain on your back, and it had you rubbing at the muscles as you made your way into your tiny kitchen. More tears flooded into your eyes at the sight sitting before you in the warm, dim light of the room.

There at the table was a steaming hot plate of your favorite dish, and you can’t help but drool at the sight of the bowtie pasta topped with the bolognese sauce. It was a meal that always brought you comfort, it having been the first thing he’d made you on that first date so long ago. Beside it, a simple glass of freshly squeezed lemonade, a couple of aspirin, and one of his notes he often left sitting around for you to find.

Oh, how that glorious man spoiled you to no end.

You picked up the note and unfolded it, a few tears trickling down your cheeks at the words.

‘Hey, don’t forget I love you.’

Sniffling, a weak, watery laugh spilled out of you at the simple little note. He may not be one for grand gestures and words of poetry, but fuck, the things he did had your heart pitter-pattering in your chest. As if you could ever forget. The man may be shit at verbalizing his emotions, but each and every day he made sure he showed you in some way that he loved you.

Making sure you had at least one hot, home-cooked meal a day, knowing the rest of your day was spent grabbing whatever was fastest.

Doing your laundry for you when you were bogged down with assignments for school, with work your supervisor forced you to take home to finish.

Taking you to your favorite spots on days where you had a little free time, the ones that held the most cherished memories for you.

Hugging you.

Kissing you.

Letting you cuddle up against him on the couch.

The fact that he did any of that even though he was also busy with his own job as a software engineer, was something so heartwarming, something only a man like Levi would do. His position was demanding, full of responsibilities, but he always made sure he made time for you, to take care of you.

Hearing a noise coming from the hall, you spun on your heel to watch as he entered the kitchen, your eyes filling with adoration for the stoic man stepping through the entryway. It stumped you sometimes, the way you’d been able to capture his heart, to break through the walls that had been erected around him, finally finding that soft and sweet interior you knew had existed.

He paused mid-step when he glanced up from his phone— most likely checking for messages from you— eyes widening when he realized you were already there.

“Oh you’re back already? Damn, I thought you were going to be a bit later. The soufflé isn’t quite done yet, but—”

The rest of his words are cut off as his breath huffed out of him at the force of you slamming into him, wrapping your arms tight around him. Burying your face into his neck, the trembles hit your body before you can stop them, breath hitching at the way his arms wrapped around your waist, tugging you close against him.

“Hey, it’s okay, I’m right here.”

See, that right there was another way of him reminding you he loved you. Simply telling you that he was there for you never failed to have your heart flipping in your chest the way it did in that moment. His voice might be gruff, but the underlying tones of affection were there, and only ever for you, and it had another shudder hitting you.

As always, he held you without resistance, for as long as you needed, another way he showed you. It had taken you time to learn to speak the language of Levi Ackerman, but now? Now you knew, and you read him with ease, could pick up each and every nuance, each twitch of his brow, the quirks of his lips, everything he did that was a clue to what he felt and thought. His heart was held in the palms of your hands, in the most delicate of ways, just as yours was with him.

He pulled back a touch to kiss the top of your head, tucking his knuckles beneath your chin to draw your gaze to his, and swiping away stray tears with his thumb.

“Why don’t you go get cleaned up and changed while I finish up in here?”

Nodding you leaned up to peck at his lips before making your way into your bedroom, stripping yourself of your clothes and tossing them into the hamper, your shoes placed neatly on the rack in the closet before changing into some comfy clothes and thick socks. Almost immediately, you felt a weight lift off of you, just from the simple act of removing the fabric you’d worn for the day, as if you’d been removing the events of the day with them.

Throwing your hair into a quick braid, you scurried back out, the smell of the food drawing a fierce rumble from your stomach. When you tried to help him finish, he waved you off, telling you to sit down and relax.

That’s how it usually went with him. He refused help when he sensed your day had been rougher than normal, no matter how much you insisted, not until he felt that you were at ease, relaxed, and taken care of. So you relented, settling in at the table, ravishly digging into the meal, slowly feeling more and more at ease. He sat in the chair next to yours with his own plate of food, and for several moments, the only sounds filling the room were the clinking of forks against the plates.

That was something else special about Levi. He always waited for you to eat, wanting at least one meal where the two of you could spend time together, enjoy each other’s company. It didn’t matter the time. Early afternoon, late evening, early night, no. He didn’t care at all, so long as you ate together. Another reminder of how much he cared for you.

When you’d finished, you leaned back in your chair, a satisfied smile filling your face at how his simple care had made you feel better, the aspirin not even needed as the headache faded on its own. Not having realized your eyes had fluttered closed, you started when he took your hand in his, linking your fingers together. You turned your head to meet his eyes, and your heart flipped in your chest at the affection you see in his, the dim kitchen light making his hair appear darker, and you couldn't help the way your free hand combed through the bangs flopping over his forehead, moving to cup the side of his face.

“You don’t have to do this, you know?”

Without even needing clarification, you knew what he was referring to. It was something he reminded you of regularly, reminding you that he would support you no matter what, that you didn’t have to continue on if you no longer wanted, that you would both figure things out together. You don’t know what you’d done to deserve him, but like hell would you ever let him go.

Tears prick your eyes once more, though gentler this time, and not from the stress of the day. “I know, baby...I want to do this.”

Because at the end of the day, this was something you truly wanted for yourself. You wanted to be able to look back and say, I kept going, and I finished. Even if it wasn’t the right path for you, you wanted the satisfaction that came with that overpriced piece of paper.

And that was all the reassurance he needed as he leaned in to graze his lips across your forehead, drawing a content sigh from you. He was your rock, and he was all you needed to make it through each and every day.

Timed perfectly, he pulled the soufflés out of the oven, setting them down in front of the both of you. His is a tart lemon, yours is a decadent chocolate and you can’t help but moan in delight at the richness that hits your taste buds as you devour the desert. Enjoying each other’s company, the two of you sit in companionable silence as you enjoy the delicious dessert he’d made.

Once finished, he rose to clear away the dishes, though this time you insist on helping, refusing to take ‘no’ for an answer. Sensing that you were more relaxed, he relented, the chore passing by faster with the two of you working together...him washing and you drying of course.

With the dishes out of the way, the two of you were free to end the night in the way you both enjoyed best, cuddling on the couch with your legs swung over his lap, his arm around your shoulders holding you close. As he always did, he’d tossed a throw blanket over the two of you before flicking on the tv, selecting the next episode of the latest tv show you were indulging in together.

It was the perfect end to a shitty day, one that helped you keep going.

Back to Fluff/Comfort Menu

[briswriting]

『 a soft morning with kenma before leaving for class 』

pairing: kenma kozume x gn!reader genre: fluff wc: 1663

a/n: a little self indulgent fic i whipped up for kenma’s birthday because he deserves the world and i love him very much !!! also sorry this is not proof read and the banner is kinda lame cause i have to start getting ready for work LOL

Mornings with Kenma in your shared apartment were never routine. Every day started differently.

Some days you woke up to him by your side, a lean arm draped over your waist, legs entangled with yours, the sight of his sleeping face partly covered by strewn hair the first thing your bleary eyes see when they open to the sound of your school alarm.

Other days you woke up to the spot beside you in bed cold and untouched throughout the night, the faint sound of clicking and quiet mumbles coming from where he had his desk set up in the small spare room on the other side of the thin apartment wall.

Today you had woken up to yet another empty side of the bed, but this time the covers beside you were still somewhat warm; the lingering scent of your shampoo remain settled on his pillow, informing you that he had at least come to bed after all.

A slight smile coming to your face at one of the earliest memories you shared with him when you first moved in together.

“Kenma, have you been using my shampoo?” You ask, peeping your head into the small office.

“Hmmm?” His cat like eyes flittering across the editing software on his monitor, paying no attention to you or the question you asked him.

“Have you been using my shampoo?” You repeat, walking into the room and placing yourself behind his gaming chair. Arms reaching out to wrap around his shoulders as you lean in to watch the screen with him, his tense form immediately relaxing into your embrace.

“No.”

“You’re lying.”

“Nope.

“Yes.”

“No.”

“You washed your hair last night. I can smell it.”

“Okay, fine, I do. We live together anyway, might as well just share, so we aren’t spending money on two different bottles.”

“Hmm, I guess that makes sense. I’ll start buying the bigger bottle then so we don’t run out as fast.” Your brain mentally making a note to remember for your next run to the store.

“It smells like you too. That’s why I use it,” he admits, eyes still not leaving the monitor in front of him as he softly talks to you. A soft smile growing on his face as you hide your own into the crook of his neck because of his words.

Your mind is immediately brought back to reality when the blaring of your alarm goes off, indicating that it was time for you to start getting ready for your classes. Letting out a groan as you stretch out your tired limbs, you feel around the bed for your phone, remembering that you had fallen asleep scrolling through your social media apps while waiting for Kenma to come to bed.

Sitting up and rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you notice that your phone is placed on your bedside table, the small cat cable bite of your charger plugged into the end of your phone. Another smile growing on your face as you realize that Kenma must have walked in on you sleeping with your phone in hand, plugging it in for you before going to sleep himself.

Turning off the alarm and finally slipping out of bed, feet softly padding across the cold wooden floor beneath it, letting out a loud yawn as you walk to the bathroom across the hall.

Opening the door, you’re unprepared to be greeted by the harsh yellow shine of the bathroom lights, eyes quickly closing in distress as you let out a groan, face twisting in discomfort.

You’re about to open your mouth to shout out to wherever Kenma was in the small apartment that he, again, left the lights on, a habit you had noticed ever since moving in with him.

But as your eyes open, you realize that Kenma is, in fact, in the bathroom, clad in his pajamas, hair still a mess from the hours of sleep, toothbrush moving back and forth in his mouth as he stands in front of the sink.

“Oh. Good morning,” you mumble out, pressing a quick kiss to his puffed out cheek before grabbing your own toothbrush and the tube of toothpaste.

Spitting out the toothpaste in his mouth and quickly rinsing out the remains, Kenma quirks an eyebrow at you as you start brushing your teeth. “You were going to yell at me for the lights again, weren’t you?”

“Cam’t repie, I’m bwushing my teef,” you tease out, toothbrush still in your mouth, a playful smile on your face.

He just smiles back before leaning in to press his own kiss against your puffed out cheeks.

“I made breakfast. Come eat before you have to leave.” Slender fingers reaching up to softly flick your nose, his delicate laughter filling the small bathroom as your face scrunches up at him before he turns around to head towards the living room.

Your mind quickly forgetting the small flick as you think of the breakfast waiting for you. Stomach grumbling loudly at the thought of eating an actual meal before class and not a quick granola bar or bagel on your way out.

Eyes widening at the loud noise your empty stomach made, wondering if Kenma had heard it on his way out. More laughter fills your ears as you reach out to turn the water faucet on, indicating that, yes, he had heard the monstrous noise your body had made at the thought of the meal waiting for you.

Hastily you finish getting ready in the bathroom, walking back into the bedroom to change out of your pajamas quickly. Grabbing one of the sweaters thrown over the foot of the bed to wear in the icy lecture halls, you had your classes in, paying no mind to which sweater it was as you shove it into your bag.

Dropping your bag by the front door with a light thump, you finally place yourself next to Kenma on the couch, your breakfast waiting on the coffee table. Your mouth watering at the sight of a plate full of pancakes and fresh fruits set out for you to eat.

Kenma laughs at you again for the third time that morning as his golden eyes watch you shovel the food into your mouth. “Slow down, you’re gonna choke.”

“Mmmm tastes so good,” you groan out, mouth full of the sweet and fluffy cake.

The two of you sit in a comfortable silence as the both of you eat the meal Kenma prepared, the TV in front of the two of you quietly playing a random show that Kenma had turned on earlier that morning while making breakfast.

“What are we watching?” Your question breaking the silence between the two of you.

“No clue.” His answer quickly causing the two of you to look at each other before breaking out into laughter. The giddy aura that surrounds the two of you quickly cut off by another alarm blaring from your phone, indicating that it was finally time for you to leave for today’s classes.

As you get up to go quickly wash your dishes in the kitchen, Kenma reaches out to grab them from your hands.

“I’ll clean up in a bit. You better start heading to class before you’re late and can’t find a good seat again,” he points out, stacking your empty plate on top of his and placing the dishes in the sink.

Letting out a small sigh at the thought of having to go to class, you head over to the front door, leaning down to put on your shoes and to pick up your school bag. You’re about to reach for the handle of the door when you feel a presence behind you.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” You hear Kenma ask quietly.

Turning around, you give him a questioning look, head slightly tilted to the side as you try to remember what you could have forgotten. Kenma silently watching you as your eyes quickly widening in remembrance.

Leaning in, you press a delicate kiss to his soft lips. A smile on your face as you pull away. Your eyes blinking confusingly as you come to notice that Kenma’s eyes are blown wide, a reddening blush rising to his face.

“I meant this, but thanks,” he mumbles out, thrusting his right hand out to you to reveal your keys that you had forgotten to grab from the key holder on the wall.

“So, you didn’t want a goodbye kiss?” You teasingly ask as you grab the keys from his fingers, making sure to safely put it in one of the pockets of your bag.

“Goodbye kisses are nice too,” he grumbles out. “But I don’t want you getting locked out while I’m in class. Now hurry up and leave before you’re late.” His hands placing themselves on your shoulders as he turns you around and lightly pushes you towards the door.

“Okay okay, I’m going,” you laugh out as you exit the comfort of your apartment and enter the hallway of the complex. “See you tonight!” You call out as he slowly shuts the door behind you.

A couple of moments later, you receive a text message from him. See you tonight <3

Your eyes scan the short yet sweet message as a smile forms on your face, thoughts occupied by memories of your boyfriend as you walk to class.

As a slight breeze flutters through the air, goosebumps growing on your exposed arms. Reaching into your bag, you carefully put on the hoodie you had thrown in earlier that morning. Only to realize that it wasn’t your sweater, but Kenma’s prototype merch sweater that he had received from the merchandise company.

Another smile grew on your face as the warmth of his hoodie enveloped you; the sweet smell of your shared shampoo filled your nose as you happily walked to class, looking forward to the end of the day where you can be embraced by him once again.

[livelysonletour]

Barcelona>Toulouse>Lourdes

When traveling abroad you may feel compelled to secure your transportation weeks or even months in advance. Us? We decided to just plan our route from Spain to France well ahead of time and then purchase our tickets later in person. 36 hours ahead of time. On a holiday weekend. While, as it turns out, French railroad operators were on strike. Oh and the route we had planned was no longer in operation.

Now to be fair to whichever one of us came up with this plan (thank God it wasn't me), we did visit the train station and attempt to buy tickets 56 hours in advance (9pm), but sadly the long distance travel sales windows had closed. Sadder still, the empty ticketing queue, which required you take a number and wait for it to pop up on a screen (a la the DMV), would not be indicative of the following day's wait time.

So, the next day, 36 hours out, we got a number. Shortly thereafter we decided we would try our hands at navigating the sometimes-translated self service kiosk, so we threw our number away. Toulouse wasn't popping up in the search (we suspected something was amiss with the route, later revealed to be out of commission) so we found the closest town we could and decided we'd figure out local travle from there. Great. We spent 10 minutes clumsily typing in our details, swiped our credit card, and "Incapaz de comprar boletos. consulte a un agente." We grabbed another number.

After our 1 hour wait, the agente made this exact face when we said we were trying to get as close to Toulouse as possible on Sunday: 😬. After some unsuccessful keyword searches, an explanation of the French holiday, and some desperate attempts at piecemealing a route together, we were advised to find a bus.

Despite some initial panic over never being able to leave Barcelona (and jokes about how this felt like the time Cat’s dad “almost” got stuck in Austin), some concern over bus travel safety, and my idea to abandon frugality and buy plane tickets, we decided to get a bus. A few recommendations from the concierge and Reddit later, we picked out a bus company and enjoyed our final day in Barcelona.

Cat did pretty well on her first commercial bussing experience (not my first -Cat), an adventure I am very familiar with from our early days of dating. The gas station stops made her feel right at home.

(Note from Cat - I waited on the bus with our stuff while Garrett went inside to use the bathroom. When he came back he asked if I wanted to go inside, to which I responded “what is the Kinder selection like?” And he immediately pulled up this picture on his phone to show me. Just more evidence that Garrett can read my mind, he just chooses not to.)

After a few stops and exchanges, we made it to our hotel in Toulouse. I wish we could've spent more time in the city itself. We will have to come back.

The next day (today), we met up with our tour group and headed in to Lourdes in the foothills of the Pyrenees. We will be staying here for a while, but we will travel out everyday to various spots the bike race will be passing through.

We did a "petit train" tour with our group, and learned all about the town's holy water, some castles, and a steep cablecar running up the mountainside. But I'm sure we will have more to share about Lourdes in a future post.

So far throughout our trip, we have had many missteps:

We've miscalculated how late things will be open, how busy events will be, and how quickly we'll be able to do things.

We don't know if we are supposed to ask for the bill or wait patiently at each restaurant.

There is never enough water. And it is never cold enough.

I've had a sinus infection (pray for Cat).

We struggle to withdraw Euros (primarily because Cat keeps her debit card locked and forgets to unlock it at the ATM.)

We are still learning how to order coffee.

Cat hasn't picked the right shoes for the day yet (blisters abound).

Cats hair straightener broke the second she plugged it into the outlet in Spain. I’m told this is a very big deal.

But, we've been very fortunate:

Winston helped us get here very affordably.

Mom and Gibson have given us peace of mind leaving Sir back home.

Nanny and Pepa inspired us to go on this crazy adventure in the first place, and made some great recommendations.

All of you reading this encourage us to journal and commit this experience to memory.

And Cat picked out what has to be the most incredible experience an outsider could get when attending le tour.

We're very excited to get started on this part of the trip.

[ofmythsandmadness]

pretty eyes.

you love diego hargreeves pretty eyes, sober and drunk off your rocker. only, when its the latter, it’s a little harder to hold back your eager compliments.

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WARNINGS & DETAILS: gender!neutral reader. mention of alcohol & drinking, some fighting later on in the chapter (it’ll make sense when it comes), idiots being idiots, mutual pining, a tad bit of angst. WORD COUNT: 6.5k NOTES: at the end (read please).

BUY ME A COFFEE HERE. | CHECK OUT MY OTHER WRITINGS HERE.

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“DO YOU KNOW WHY THE SKY’S BLUE?”

Diego didn’t look back, but from the sounds of tiny pants and dull clunks of shoes hitting the ground, he knew enough to paint a picture. You, struggling to rid yourself of the coat he forced you to put on, dropping the heels you claimed you hated so vehemently, all the while probably grinning from ear to ear like he imagined little kids looked on Christmas Day. He knew you’d be waiting for his answer, just as you always did, expecting something greater than he could give you in his own flustered state.

Sometimes you were predictable. But he liked that about you.

“I don’t know. Why?”

“No, silly! I’m asking you!”

“Oh.” His tongue danced across his bottom lip, wetting the chapped skin before responding. “I dunno. Sorry.”

Only a sparkling laugh and a thump answered him. He whirled around to see you flat on your butt on the ground, staring up at him with drooping doe eyes. It would be an irresistibly pretty sight, if he knew it wasn’t from extreme inebriation and you were completely off your rocker at the moment.

Still, pretty.

“Help me up?” You laughed, waving your hands aimlessly towards him. “Puh-lease?”

Diego grimaced slightly but moved anyways. He grabbed at your hands (clammy, another symptom of your heavy drinking choices)  and yanked you towards him. Only he overestimated you and greatly underestimated his own strength it seemed -- instead of lifting to your feet like any normal person, you practically flew towards him, landing just under his chin and flopping against his chest.

And Diego froze.

Normally he would have pulled away and shrugged it off as a mistake. Neither of you would mention it again and would move on with your lives, forgetting how close your bodies had been and the way your gaze was intoxicating upon itself. He had rules for those things; never getting too close to a friend who made his heart beat in a rather unfriendly way was one of them.

But as you looked up at him, still smiling dopily and eyes almost crossed, he couldn’t remember a single thing about rules or precautions or anything of the sort. All that was on Diego’s mind, was you.

Your smile softened a tad, painted lips closing over your teeth and only hinting at the dimples he had stared at many-a-time before. Up close, he could see flecks of black under your eyes, staining flushed skin with ebony freckles that no one could believe was natural. He didn’t know the word for it, but guessed it was from you rubbing at your eyes and forgetting you had painted them hours before. Despite it, you still looked absolutely radiant.

“You have really pretty eyes.”

Diego blinked, startled by your giggled statement. “W-what?”

“Sooo pretty,” you gushed. One of your hands left his chest -- he hadn’t even realised they had been pressed there, but he suddenly missed the warm sensation -- and caressed his cheek. He shuddered at the touch. “Maybe the pre...prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen!”

If merely standing near you was heart-attack inducing, Diego was certain that all this was going to explode the vessel. Any second at that point, it would just burst and coat your grinning face with its guts--

-- he shook his head, ridding himself of both that image and the foolish thoughts flooding around it. You were drunk. Everyone said and did stupid stuff when they were drunk. Right? Like the time he lost a fight with a lamp post -- he wouldn’t do that sober, but alcohol made everyone a fool. You just chose compliments over actions, maybe.

The saying ‘drunk words, sober thoughts’ lingered in his mind for half a second, but he pushed it away. That only worked in late night television or shitty rom-coms, not reality. Not with them.

“You should get to bed,” Diego said gruffly, pulling away from your fingers. He didn’t miss the flash of disappointment on your face, but tried to push it away for his own emotions’ sake. “You’re gonna want to, ‘fore all this hits.”

“You should smile more.”

Diego froze. He didn’t turn back to her that time, knowing it would only hurt him more, but he couldn’t bring himself to move another inch.

“Your eyes are fu...cking beautiful, but your smile?” Clapping echoed paces behind him; his jaw clenched with every smack. “Diego, you’re so pretty!”

He reached behind him blindly, scrambling and feeling stupid before finally launching onto you. Still avoiding your charming smile, he pulled you along, leading you out and into your bedroom. “I’ll be back to get you some Advil. Sit down.”

“I wish you’d smile more,” you said, completely ignoring every word he said. You fell down to your bed with a plop. “It lights up those pretty pretty, pretty eyes so much...so fucking pretty, Diego! I can’t even think of any other words, that’s how be-yew-tiful you are.”

“Okay, I--”

“-- and you always look so grumpy. It’s so funny!”

Diego should have been long gone, at that point. For his own sake and for yours, because you would hate that you rambled on so much, and he was going to pay for the emotional turmoil you were putting him through. But he couldn’t. He simply stood, still and awkward in your bedroom doorway, watching as you tried to twist your face to look like his own.

It didn’t work at all. Your lips fought angrily to smile again, and your eyelids just drooped, so far you looked stoned, or maybe like a zombie ready to bite. But even if you looked beyond ridiculous, his mind still screamed at how adorable it was, and despite himself, Diego smiled.

“See! See, there - there it is!” You pointed frantically at his own face, like he didn’t know it was there. “God, I wish I had a mirror to show you how pretty you are! Lil...lil sunshine boy!”

Okay, ‘sunshine boy’ was new. It took a little bit of the piss out of everything, and he was able to grumble and walk away finally from your singing self. Calls of his name paired with nonsensical titles followed. Diego tried his best to ignore them, but he knew the coos would haunt him later. Even as he searched for a glass, the sounds bounced through his head like injured bats in a cave; no way out and too blind to escape, forced to flit around endlessly until someone ended their suffering.

But Diego, unfortunately, did not know how to do that. So he simply bore the weight of your compliments knowing that they were nothing but sounds and syllables made up by a confused mind, trying to push through the night with as little baggage as possible.

As he walked back to your room, he sighed. This wasn’t how he planned things to go. It had been a good night -- sure, he might not have had as much fun as you looked like you were having, dancing and drinking and laughing, but at least he was with you. And he liked that, and the lax nature you took on when you drank, making him feel less pressure about constantly being the best version of himself. He hadn’t felt like he needed to put on a show, he was just Diego, for better or for worse. And somehow, you didn’t mind that.

He only wished that he could have more than that and all the time.

“Okay,” he said, clearing his throat after the word came out garbled. “Uh - got you this, you’re gonna want to drink it and take these now. Okay? And I’m putting these here for tomorrow morning, so you can take that as soon as you’re up. You got that?”

Your head bobbed up and down excitedly, but he knew you didn’t take in a word he said. So as you swallowed the tablets and gulped down the water, he scribbled out a note to remind you of what definitely went right over your head.

Diego paused, pen slightly trembling in his hand, before jotting down two more sentences. Thanks for last night. Had a good time being with you, as always. He hesitated, hovering over the slip of paper before cursing and scribbling out the lines with added violence. He tried again, being a little bit more poetic (which wasn’t much, but words really were not his thing) only to be disappointed again, pushing down on the pen so hard he was sure it would burst. Once he was sure nothing but scribbles could be made of the mess, he put the note under the Advil bottle and stepped away.

“You wanna change out of that?” He asked, gesturing to your clothes. “Doubt that’s comfortable.”

“Nah,” you drawled. You smiled up at him and even dared to wink (it was more of a sloppy, half-assed blink, but it still made his head swim). “I’m just comfortable. Do...you…’re you comfortable?”

Diego chose not to answer that. He pushed you back gently, deciding not to fight with you on changing and instead just going with sleep. You didn’t fight him much. If anything you leaned into it, holding onto his hands for seconds longer than you should and mumbling sweet nonsense up at him.

“You know,” you sang, “you know what, Di...Diego?”

He didn’t pause. “What?”

“I would do anything...and everything...in order to make you smile forever. You know? Anything.”

Those were the words that weighed heaviest on Diego’s conscience as he drove back to his place. It was as though they had erased everything else, anything that had happened that day or any time before and just left that in its place. He didn’t know why, but they stuck, and as he wove through the dimly lit streets, your voice floated about like a bodiless apparition, set to destroy his mind and drive him mad.

Diego had had his heart broken several times before. It happened almost easily in his childhood, normally by the hands of his vindictive father. He had learned how to patch it up, sew up the cracks and try to make it so it wouldn’t happen again, and eventually he got better at that. But it shattered again when Ben died, and he realised that they were just kids, forced to play heroes in a horrifically gruesome world they didn’t belong in. That took a while to mend, but he did, until he screwed up at the police academy and Patch left him too. After that he had let the fragments just sit in piles in his chest, digging at his ribs and leaving him winded after long nights in the cold darkness. He hadn’t cared; he thought that was what was expected of him. Nothing but a broken heart to hold him when the nightmares got too bad.

But when you came along, he didn’t have to stitch himself back together. You did it for him. Somehow without him noticing you had snuck into his chest and unravelled the poor stitchwork and blotted out the stains left that he hadn’t bothered to clean up. Over time, you had managed to make it almost brand new again, and it was a whole new experience of smiling and watching as you failed to finish your joke again, only because you were already laughing too hard. Of getting wasted on Wednesday’s when your job sucked more and dancing down the streets up to your apartment, uncaring of those who watched. Of you chiding him for the cuts and bruises collected from his vigilante expeditions, but always being there to wash them out and make a fresh pot of tea. Of you, merely existing, and allowing him to bask in your sunshine a while longer.

But hearing those soft words leave your drunken lips, spilling out like tar from someone so angelic, hurt. Diego didn’t think that was possible with you.

He sighed, turning down the street towards the gym. It would be a sleepless night again.

YOU WOKE UP THE NEXT MORNING CONFUSED AND ACHING.

Not as much as you normally would be, which was a nice change of pace -- you assumed you had enough common sense to take premature headache meds, knowing how bad the hangover got for them. But your drunken self did not have the thought of changing out of your stiff, uncomfortable going-out clothes, instead draping yourself across the mattress smelling like the shitty bar you had careened in and leaving every part of your body pissed off. Sweaty fabric clung to your skin, leaving you feeling soggy and misworn and eagerly wishing you could have made better choices earlier.

You groaned and slipped out of the comforter, already missing its heavy warmth. Slowly you staggered over to your desk where you must have left the Advil for that morning. “Thank you, past me,” you sighed, twisting open the cap with a grimace.

A paper caught your eye, small amongst the stacks of work files you had yet to comb through. Downing one pill, you grabbed it, taking in the scribbled letters through tired, squinting eyes.

Leaving this for you because you’re too drunk to remember what I said. Take these and drink water before you die of a hangover. I’d hate to find your body that way. Also left your things on your kitchen counter, they’re not stolen. Also left your burrito in your microwave -- you insisted on buying one last night, so don’t forget about it. Take care.

Underneath were two lines of thick black scribbles, covering up whatever was written under that and leaving only a scrawled ‘Diego’ as your final clue. But, despite whatever mystery the pen covered up, you smiled and pinned the note to your bulletin board.

“Thanks, bud,” you grinned, speaking like he was there to hear. “Hope I wasn’t too annoying last night.”

You went about your morning with a smile despite the pounding pulverising your muscles, and enjoying the lazy Sunday hours spent cleaning up. You even spoiled yourself with a long shower, eating up your hot water minutes with joy, knowing you’d hate yourself for it two weeks later. After an hour of cleaning up, washing your face free of the makeup smudged across your cheeks and devouring that burrito left for you, you finally felt refreshed and better about things.

You glanced up at the time. Diego would be up, probably manning the desk for Al as he did most Sunday’s (the facet of his job he hated most). But, at least that meant he would be available to take your call. You missed him, even after seeing him just the night before, and selfishly craved the distraction of his low rasp. Maybe you could even make him laugh, cheer him up during his boring shift.

But five minutes later, you were left disappointed when none of the three calls went through. You tried not to think too hard on it -- he was a busy guy, and was either working or doing his other line of work, and ignoring your call meant nothing. Course, it probably didn’t look good for a boxing gym, but...you’d settle.

You would just call back later. He would definitely be available to talk then.

IT HAD BEEN A WEEK SINCE YOU LAST TALKED TO DIEGO, which was the longest either of you had gone without even speaking to one another in the history of your friendship.

On its own, the fact wasn’t so troubling. You were both working adults who had their own lives to sort through, jobs and bills and other friends that you didn’t like half as much as each other, grocery shopping and patrolling the streets alike, filling up both schedules easily. But the two of you were closer than that, and definitely more than just friends that saw each other every other week. You didn’t care about those friends like you cared about Diego.

And it hurt, that he was going to such lengths to avoid you.

Every time you stopped by his gym, Diego was gone. Al simply shrugged off your questions with a non-committal ‘I don’t keep track of the shithead’ and even when you went to knock on his door to check if he was lying, you got nothing. No regulars knew either, which was strange; he always liked to spend his afternoons training with a couple people, sometimes you if you showed up at the right time. You considered doing just that and waiting for him to show -- but even after hours of sparring, the man was nowhere to be seen.

You had tried everything, to the point where Al was annoyed and you felt like you were losing your mind. Surely Diego hadn’t just disappeared off the face of the earth. That didn’t seem right or possible and you knew you hadn’t made him up, because you had the pictures and notes to prove it. You could see his face, disgruntled and sometimes smiling in the photos you had snapped of him -- so why couldn’t you find it anywhere else?

With all options exhausted, you gave up for a few days, allowing yourself the chance to catch your breath. However, with that came the exhaustive process of trying to figure out why on earth Diego was avoiding you. And unfortunately, all that linked back to your last night spent together, and the bitter realisation that you must have fucked up the night somehow and left him not wanting to see you again.

And that thought broke you.

Thursday night was spent crying alone on your couch, trying to push past the depressing thoughts and failing miserably. You couldn’t remember half of what you did that night, but you knew he hadn’t been drinking as much as you, and alcohol always rendered you a ranting, rambling fool that he must have had to deal with. He had got you home, but for what? And what if it was all in that stupid note he had left you, scribbling out the real reason he was leaving you high and dry?

You threw the note out that night, staring down at it in the trash with tears pooling in your eyes. If only you could know why.

The issue was, Diego was more than just a friend to you. Sure your relationship had been built on totally platonic foundations, but it soon blossomed into so much more. He was a companion, your partner, the man who made you feel comfortable enough to wheeze into laughter-induced tears with, or just sob against his shoulder without feeling judged. He was the guy who brought you fast food when you forgot about dinner when work ran late, and the one who let you sleep over when you didn’t want to be alone. He made you smile by just being there -- like, you would open your door (or window, usually) and just grin like an idiot at the mere sight of his face. He was just Diego, but that meant more to you than you had ever been able to say.

Maybe, hell, you loved him. Was that so bad? It hadn’t been intentional to fall -- one day you had just been eating pizza on your countertop way too late in the night, and you looked over and realised your heart had only ever fluttered so violently for him. That he was the guy you could imagine spending the rest of your days with and never getting bored. Of course, you didn’t act on it, knowing that it was a platonic relationship and admitting such would destroy it completely -- but that didn’t mean your official break-up didn’t hurt any less.

You skipped work Friday, something you never did.

When your coworkers called, you wrote it off as illness related, while still drowning in the sorrow of being left high and dry.

Friends hit you up to make some ‘end of the week’ plans, but you ignored them.

You fell asleep at nine that night -- the earliest you had in aeons.

You stayed in bed for most of Saturday, staring at the ceiling or the photos pinned to your walls of the two of you, wondering if this was all just a weird dream you were going to wake up from.

Six hours later, you hadn’t woken up from your dream, but you had made up your mind.

One hour after that, at almost ten o’clock at night, you were rolling up to that same boxing gym you had haunted for that week, dressed in dark activewear and parked a ways away from the actual space. Steely-eyed and with your jaw clenched, you marched out the vehicle and into the building, knowing full well what you were going to find. You had a plan, and whatever it took, you were going to put it into motion.

Maybe it wasn’t the greatest plan, and maybe you had only just come up with it, with barely any time to consider it’s workability and whether or not you were just throwing words together, but nevertheless, you persisted.

You were going to get Diego back.

“DIEGO FUCKING HARGREEVES,”

The man, back turned away, stiffened and immediately went to move,

“run and I will end you, boy,” you growled, stomping towards him with force; he could practically feel each stomp echoing in his chest, cracking him down to the size of a pea. Somehow, he couldn’t move, frozen in place by your command. “Okay?!”

“H-hey, I--”

“--why the hell have you been avoiding me?!”

His eyes were wide and panicked and frantically, he searched all around for a way out. Unfortunately, your body in front of him blocked his only exit, leaving him stammering for answers you knew he didn’t easily have. “Look, I--”

“--I have been worried and scared and sad and out of my mind this entire week,” you snapped, jabbing a finger into his tank top, pushing him back in his steps. Your anger dug deep into him, thorns grabbing onto every bit of vulnerable flesh -- and the worst part was, you were absolutely right.  “You know that? I have called everywhere I could -- I even called the police, wondering if you were in custody and I just missed that news drop. But no, you were just gone, avoiding me for who knows what reason!”

“I didn’t--”

“--what did I do, Diego? What happened, what did I do wrong?”

“Nothing! You’ve done nothing.”

“Then why won’t you even look me in the eyes?” you hissed back, staring up at him in hopes he would catch your gaze. But he didn’t; his eyes still looked far away from yours, searching for something to give him a way out with. “You won’t even look at me, that’s how pissed off you are at me.”

“That’s not true.”

“I get if I did something wrong, but you can’t just pull away from me like that -- this friendship isn’t built on shit like that. I can’t cope with this void left by you deciding you don’t like me anymore!”

“That’s not what happened,” he insisted, his own voice raising in volume. “I swear!”

“Then what, Diego? What possible reason could you have that isn’t related to me doing something wrong? Because that’s all the evidence I got out of this and unlike you, I have zero detective skills so I’m working on one freakin’ theory here!”

His eyes averted to the ground, staring down at the both of your feet, one pair tapping angrily and the other shuffling in hopes of escape. He felt himself folding in, a habit he had broken a long time ago with you, one he thought he had killed off forever. But apparently it hadn’t. 

“You can’t even answer me,” you shuddered. Your sneakers squeaked against the shiny linoleum, leading you back a step. “You - I don’t understand this. At all. And you can’t even give me an answer why? D-don’t I deserve a reason for why I hurt you, Diego?”

“No, c’mon. I…” he hesitated once more as expected. Whatever he was planning on saying died in his mouth and thickened his tongue, leaving him once again stumbling for an excuse. He felt your eyes on him as well as his father, reproachfully clicking his tongue at once again, his stuttering, bumbling fool of a son. “I did...I didn’t…”

“Forget it. Screw this.”

“W-wait, don’t leave--”

“--I’m not leaving!”

He froze, holding onto your bicep in an attempt to stop you. Slowly, his hand fell away, “w-what?”

“I’m not leaving,” you repeated, and slowly he watched as a devilish smile stained your cheeks, pulling away the angry lines of before. “I didn’t come here to leave, I came here for answers. And I guess I just have to fight you for ‘em.”

At that point, Diego’s head had been through the wringer so much, he felt like it could just pop off if he wasn’t careful. And yet still, his eyes bugged out and he stared at you in complete shock, unsure just how he was supposed to process that last sentence.

“I’m sorry, what?!”

You shrugged like it was nothing at all, “c’mon. I know you’re better with the physical stuff and I wanna catch you off guard, finally get an answer out of you. I’m gonna, like, fight you for the truth.”

He watched as you toed off your shoes and shrugged off your thin jacket, letting it fall to the floor behind you with little care. You seemed ready, like you had planned this all along -- and had you? What was the reason behind all this? Was there something that he just wasn’t getting, in his state of emotional disarray? Or were you just losing your mind because of him?

“L-look, I’m s-sorry, but I,” he paused, trying to form the syllables in his mouth so they weren’t so thick and jumbled. “I can’t just fight you.”

“Sure you can. We spar all the time.”

“But w-w-why?”

Once more, your shoulders lifted and fell; ever the nonchalant dramatic. “Call it a bet. I win, you tell me why you avoided me for so long. And if you win, which you probably won’t but if you do…” you grimaced. “I’ll leave and you never have to see me again.”

Diego baulked. “I don’t want that.”

“Clearly you do,” you jabbed back. “Right?”

“No. I don’t. I don’t want to lose you.”

You huffed; clearly you didn’t believe him, but you also seemed set on the idea that you were definitely going to win, so he wasn’t sure where he stood in that. “Fine, pick your prize and keep it to yourself. I don’t care.”

Diego still hesitated, hovering to the side as you wrapped your hands. There seemed no way out of the situation, but surely there had to be - surely you weren’t just going to hop into the ring for an explanation.

Was this some ill-fated revenge?

You must have noticed his expression, because he heard you laughing from a whiles away. “I’m not looking to hurt you, Diego. Trust me, no matter what you do, I’d never want to do that.”

His heart fluttered.

“It’s just,” you cocked your head, thinking over your words before smiling again, “like you said when you first started training me. Freestyle, baby.”

You had deepened your voice tremendously to mock his own -- and while it was a horrible impression, it did call back to the one you did before of him. Not that you seemed to remember that, you had been piss drunk, but the thought still made him cringe.

All this, because of him. He screwed it all up and for what?

“Rules are the same as always. First person to pin the other down for more than five beats wins. No serious hits, so like, don’t break my nose or anything.”

“I can’t do this,” he mumbled, even as he stepped into the ring. “We don’t need to do this. We can just talk.”

You sighed and looked back at him. There was a fierceness in your eyes, a determination for something he wasn’t quite sure of -- like there was a plan in motion, only he couldn’t figure out where the steps lead. “I didn’t come here to walk away, Diego. I’m here to win a bet and get my friend back, and also kick his ass if I have to because I’m desperate. You can’t convince me to leave, so wrap your hands and let’s get this going!”

“But-”

“-it’s either this or I just stare at you until you crack,” you said, no longer smiling. “And I doubt you want that typ’a torture, do you?”

He stared at you askance. “Really?”

You didn’t answer him with words that time.

The fight was fast, and almost evenly matched -- you had a slight advantage with your eye on your prize, and he was faltering with every other blow knowing he couldn’t bear to hurt you. But the pace picked up and soon it was like you were one fluid being, predators locked on and desperate to claw the other away from them while simultaneously, drawing them back in. Fists flew and every so often he saw the sparks fly from the fire in your eyes, catching on everything he turned from and leaving him surrounded by the flames you spilled.

For a moment, Diego thought he had it. He had managed to pivot away from your last onslaught and pulled you away from the centre, edging into the corner where he could finally pin you down. His arms outstretched and for a moment he was actually smiling because it felt like the good old days -- sparring way too late into the night when he should have been working with the girl he secretly loved and the stars watching from way above, admiring the gruesomely pretty sight.

But in a flash, everything switched.

He lunged, you slid.

When he fumbled, your legs wrapped around his own, pulling him back and flipping over one another like beetles rolling in the hot sun.

You were everywhere, smothering his smoke with your body, forcing him down before he even realised what was happening.

Diego blinked, and suddenly you were on top of him, legs on either side of his waist and your hands holding his own up above his head. Your expression edged on feral as you grinned down at him, straddling him and fighting everything he pushed back with.

But he couldn’t fight back. Not when you were on him and everywhere and he could smell your shampoo as your hand dangled around him, dripping your scent around him like he was in that poppy field from Wizard of Oz, ready to give into the toxin and be one with the flowers. Your hands held his own and he wished he could slide his fingers into the clasp, holding them to him and kiss each bruised knuckle with tenderness he didn’t know he possessed. Your hips, legs, chest pressed against his own, both heaving and waiting for the other to move and interrupt the tension rising with every passing second.

“One,” you began, voice low and teasing. Did you know what you did to him? “Two…”

Diego writhed in your hold, but it was no use. You had him. He was yours and he would be satisfied to be so for the rest of your days, if only you never let him go. His gaze flitted across your face, tracing the way your eyebrows furrowed and relaxed with the numbers, eyes still wide and filled with emotions he didn’t quite know how to read. Sweat beaded on your brow and stained your cheeks and yet still, he thought you were as perfect as you could be, mere inches from his own darting eyes.

“Four...four and a half…” your smile grew and you got a little closer, almost touching his face with your own. “Five…”

He didn’t dare to breathe.

“I win, Hargreeves.”

But despite the hushed declaration, you did not move. Your body stayed over his, hands pushing his own down with gentle force but keeping him locked under you. Your eyes remained on his own, locking them in place as your face grew nearer. Soon enough your nose was just touching his own, nudging softly and turning so it fit better against his lips, which were parted and so close to pressing against your own-

-but you pulled away.

Just as Diego’s eyes had shut, your weight left his and he was left to sit up confused and watch you stomp away. You slipped out of the ring and down to the ground with a soft thump. He watched you unwrap your knuckles and to his surprise, he saw your hands shake with the movement. 

“This was a mistake,” you mumbled to yourself. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to hear. “This was stupid, I have to-”

“-don’t go,” he mumbled. In one swift movement Diego had jumped back to his feet and pulled after you. You stumbled back a few paces; he raced after, hurrying to your side with an aggression he didn’t know he possessed. “Don’t go.”

“Diego, I-”

“-I pushed you away because I screwed up,” he said, all in one breath and so fast he wasn’t sure if you could understand him. “I messed this up. We’re only supposed to be friends, I know that, but I-I can’t not be in love with you, not when you’re that perfect and so beautiful and you make me smile e-even when I feel like the shittiest sh-sh-shit and-”

“-kiss me.”

“What?”

You stepped forward, angling yourself just under his chin. Your chest heaved. “Kiss me, asshole.”

And slowly his hands moved on their own accord, cupping your cheeks and holding you to him. His eyes darted down once, staring at the pink lips before reaching your own again for a silent affirmation. When you nodded in his hands he acted, pulling you to him quickly and pressing his lips against his own, finally.

It was fast and passionate, both beings pulling at the other, urging the other closer than the skin they already pressed against. His one hand left your jaw to hold your neck, angling your face so he could better caress it, smudging himself across your lips with little care. He felt your own touch against his back, sliding down to his hips and pulling -- without even thinking, he moaned, feeling your lower body roll up against him and leave his mind in overdrive.

You pulled away for air finally, gasping only to be pulled in again for a softer, gentler kiss. He pecked the corners of your mouth before finally taking your lower in between his teeth, biting softly before sucking on the tender swollen skin. He pulled away then, dropping his forehead to your own as you both took another breath.

“If…” you paused to inhale, grinning through the gasp of oxygen, “if I knew you were holding all that back, Diego, I would have kissed your ass a lot sooner.”

“I’m...I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be sorry,” you murmured. He felt your hands leave his waist, pulling up to the one he still had cradled against your cheek. Your head leaned into the gentle touch. Even as your fingers held his. “I just...is this why you stopped talking to me?”

Diego shook his head softly against your own. Once more his heart faltered and threatened to burst, but he ignored it. “No, I just...I realised that I was-”

“-sorry, I don’t - you have an eyelash.” He froze as your fingers stroked his cheek, pulling away the evidence that had caught your attention. Your eyes darted up to his for a moment, and he watched as they widened and brightened under his perplexed gaze. “Your eyes really are pretty.”

His heart stopped for a beat.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“That’s why I stopped!” he exclaimed. He pulled away from you then, gesticulating wildly around like the air was going to supply you with answers. “That’s why!”

You frowned, cocking your head like a lost puppy. “You...because of your pretty eyes?!”

“What? Wait, no, that’s not why.”

“I’m so confused right now, bud, and I just--”

“--last week,” he rushed, cutting you off before he could lose momentum again. “I took you home. You were wasted, and you kept talking and - and you told me I had pretty eyes.”

Still, you looked bewildered.

“I-I have been obsessed with you since the day I met you,” he said, soft and unsure if any of the words would come out right. Or if they themselves were the right ones to say. “I couldn’t help it. And I didn’t let myself act on it because I knew that it wouldn’t wo-wo-work out, you’d get mad and I’d lose you. I rathered having you as a friend, then losing you cause I was in love with you.”

“Love?” you questioned, barely a breath of a sound lingering between them.

“But that night, you went on and on and I realised then that I was too gone to keep it in. And I realised that you wouldn’t feel the same...and I didn’t want to hurt you, so I left. And…”

“Diego Hargreeves, that is the stupidest thing I have ever heard.”

His brow furrowed low, anger mingling with befuddlement on his flushed skin. “Hey, I-”

“-first of all, you really think I would just hate you because you thought of me as more than a friend?! Even if I didn’t like you - which I do, by the way - I wouldn’t do that, I value you too much. But second of all, you’re telling me that you never noticed how much I liked you back?!”

“I-”

“-I have felt like an idiot for the past year, holding in my feelings for you and wishing you could feel the same way. And when you left, I thought - I thought that was it, and that I screwed things up when I was drunk, which I guess I did but-”

“-you didn’t screw anything up, I did!”

“No you didn’t, I did! I’m the drunken initiator!”

“I shouldn’t have just left!”

“Okay, so we both screwed up!” you shouted, throwing your hands up in the air in exasperation. “But dammit, Diego, I have loved you for ages, and you - we - this is what it came to?!”

“Well, I-”

“-I can’t believe this!” you chortled. “All this time?!”

“I guess so,” he said, voice catching on the ‘so’. “I guess, yeah.”

“Holy crap.”

“Ha. Yeah.”

“I love you,” you giggled, breathless and still flushed, messy and beautiful in the shitty gym lighting. “I love you, Diego Hargreeves.”

His heart didn’t break. It didn’t even crack. Diego instead felt the slight twinge as the organ settled in his chest, content and buzzing with the panted cry. The breaklines of before didn’t feel so harsh, mended by your shiny eyes and swollen lips that he wanted to stare at until the end of his days. For once, his heart actually felt whole.

“I love you too,” Diego mumbled, smiling like a little kid. The muscles in his face, rusted over with age and disuse, groaned at the extreme grin but he kept it on anyways, smiling down at you with the strangest feeling of happiness coursing through his body. “A lot.”

And you beamed. “Have I ever told you, your eyes look like, a thousand times prettier when you smile?”

A/N: WHY DO I KEEP WRITING ALCOHOL BASED IDIOTS TO LOVERS FICS?? Have I any other creative thoughts?? Does this make me seem like that’s all I think about?? These are the thoughts that now run through my mind as I rush to post this...and truthfully, I don’t have an answer. I swear I’m a little more creative! I just...have a hankering for these things. Oops.

I wrote this weirdly super super fast and it’s super nonsensical, especially the middle bits? But I weirdly like it. I’m not sure. The plot is a ~little~ wonky but I’m rolling with it!

I’m open to make more stuff on here, I’ve gotten quite bad at it but I like writing these things as practice pieces. So, if you want to read more, requests are open and you can find a list of prompts (if you want them) in my masterlist. I’m putting out an updated list later on in the month, but I also am just open to have any sorts of requests. xx

(also as always - if you enjoyed and you want more, follow, reblog, and consider buying me a kofi! linked in my bio bc tumblr doesn’t like direct links on posts, please check it out if you’re feeling generous because I’m recently unemployed and any bit helps. but sharing this post and showing others the work is appreciated a great deal and i love you if you do!)

[rawmeanderson]

pretty please ― thursday.

ft. Kevin Hayes.

plot: with Kevin, Brady, and Jimmy all gone from New York and the new season about to start, everyone gets together for a long weekend. warnings: swearing, drinking, mentions of anxiety/depression. word count: 4.9k notes: this is a slight AU I suppose, in the sense that the pandemic doesn’t exist here bc escapism, y’know? basically, this takes place in August 2020, where there was no pause and the season ended normally. also, this is kind of forgetting the fact that Kevin, Brady, and Jimmy didn’t live together during the last season they were all together in New York but whatever. Y/N is also plus sized!! title is from Pretty Please by Dua Lipa. there’s also more notes at the end!

Rain was hitting the windshield, the sky gloomy and grey as leaves on the trees outside the car. At least the weather was playing into your mood.

“Last time I checked, this was the only rain we’re supposed to get all weekend thankfully,” Sophie said from the driver’s seat as she adjusted the speed of the wiper blades. When she glances at you, you force a slight smile, nodding in acknowledgement. She looks like she wants to say something else but doesn’t, and you turn your head to look out the window.

The dread and disinterest swimming in your stomach, the car ride that seemed to go on endlessly reminded you of all the times your mother had driven you to your dad’s during the summers. You’d sat in the passenger seat then just like you are now, anxious, irritated, and on the verge of begging her to turn around.

You hadn’t wanted to come on this trip, knowing it was meant to be a last hurrah of sorts. Thursday to Sunday at a lake with friends sounded great in theory, but the changes that would be happening in the weeks that followed were what scared you. The finality of it all.

“I’m glad you decided to come, Y/N,” Sophie told you, and you could feel her glance at you again. She had been your roommate for almost 10 years now, since the start of college, and she knew you were doing your best not to spiral. 

You opened your mouth, then closed it again, opting to nod like you had earlier as your gaze drifted to your lap. Running your tongue along your teeth, you tried to think of something to say that would ease the tension in the vehicle. Un-crossing your legs, you shift in your seat slightly as you hear Sophie exhale a quiet sigh through her nose.

She knows your feelings aren’t personal, that you’re not blaming her for moving on with her life, but your general sadness about all of it weighed on her either way. She was right there, but that didn’t stop the preemptive pangs of loneliness that hit your stomach.

In the last two years, every person you’d spent most of your time with had left New York, until Sophie was the last one. And in two weeks, you’d be the only one left, leaving you feeling as grey and sad as the weather outside.

After chewing on the inside of your cheek for a while, you pick a piece of invisible lint off the fabric of your shorts. You’d meant to buy new ones before the trip since most of your pants cut into your waist anymore, fueling your self-consciousness. “I’ll...I’m sure I’ll feel a little better once we’re there and I’ve been able to take a nap,” you tell her, trying your best to sound optimistic about it. Blaming your bad mood and distantness on being tired, classic.

Sophie glanced at you and nodded, accepting what you’d said despite knowing you as well as she does.

It would’ve been hard to argue about it, considering you’d both been up before 5am to make this 4 hour drive. You’d left the city around 6, the car packed with the bags for the weekend, plus a good number of totes of Sophie’s stuff for Jimmy to take back to Buffalo with him. There was still about an hour left in the drive, and the iced coffee you’d chugged at the start of the drive had done nothing but make your heart race soar as you fidgeted in your seat.

Sophie had always been the early bird, with the two of you poised to be some of the first people to arrive at the lake. Jimmy and one of his buddies had gotten there last night, with everyone else slated to show up in the early afternoon. The only reason you’d agreed to leave so early was because Sophie promised to let you nap as long as you wanted once you got there. You were grateful that would allow you to avoid people for a while.

For what was left of the drive, Sophie didn’t speak, letting you sit there in your tired sadness as music hummed through the speakers.

When you parked at the massive cabin overlooking a lake that stretched as far as you could see, it was still raining. The sky was just as grey, and it gnawed at you, the perfect cinematic backdrop for what felt like the beginning of the end.

Your mood was sour, and as you unfastened your seatbelt to exit the car, you felt goosebumps rise along your skin even though it was warm out despite the rain. The same worry you’d had the whole drive was still swirling through your head, that your mood and your emotions would put a damper on the trip. You hoped that a nap would help calm those fears.

Jimmy was already on his way out to greet you and Sophie, his smile fixed on your roommate as you open the back door to grab your bag. He approaches with a grin as you’re already making your way toward the cabin. 

“Take any room you want,” he tells you, like he already knows that you’re going for a nap. You salute him in acknowledgement, deciding to greet him better later as he continues on to greet his girlfriend.

Your shirt is covered in raindrops by the time you get inside, glancing around curiously. There’s a couple of people hanging out on the sofas that you don’t recognize, but they wave to you either way then go back to their conversation.

After wandering down the hall, you nudge open a door and decide that the room is good enough. There’s a window looking out over the lake, and even as grouchy and sad as you’re feeling, you know it’ll be a gorgeous view when it’s not so gloomy outside. You close the door behind you and unceremoniously drop your bag on the floor while kicking off your shoes. Collapsing into the middle of the bed, you sigh, running on auto pilot as you pull the blankets over yourself. 

Shifting around slightly, you’re aware of how the shorts are cutting into your waist and your bra is pinching somewhere, but you’re too settled to do anything about it as you stare up at the wood paneled ceiling. The sound of the rain hitting the roof is soothing, and you let out a breath that seemed to have been held since the moment you got in the car.

Your eyes trace the woodgrain, remembering when Sophie told you about Jimmy’s roommates shortly after she got with him, that they were funny, cool guys that she knew you’d get along with. You’d partied with them first, but it turned into movie nights, casual dinners, enjoying the group of newfound friends that you saw several times a week. With how often you ended up hanging out late or bar hopping in their area, the guest room had practically been designated as yours.

Then Kevin was traded to Winnipeg. Then Jimmy was traded to Buffalo. Then Brady was traded to Carolina. Your found family in the city had practically dissolved within a year, and now Sophie was two weeks away from moving to Buffalo.

You knew there was little choice in the matter for anyone really, that it wasn’t their fault, that it was just how worked, but it still hurt, remembering you’d be the last one of the group in New York. You had other friends that you saw every so often, but it didn’t stop how lonely it all made you feel. Being sad about it made you feel selfish, so you buried it behind frequent naps and iced coffee.

Your internal monologue continued until tears stung in your eyes, and you blinked them away, turning on your side as you willed yourself to get some rest.

By the time you woke up, it was mid-afternoon, and you stayed curled up on your side for a moment. Sun was streaming in through the window as you took a deep breath. You could hear people outside, along with splashing from the lake, and when you rolled over, you saw somebody zip past in a jet ski. After a taking a few minutes to scroll through your phone, you finally get up, stretching as you smooth your hair down.

You came out of your room and found Jimmy and Sophie in the kitchen. Yawning as you approached, Sophie smiled.

“Good nap?” she asked knowingly, and you nodded once you were close enough to hug her.

“Yeah, definitely,” you said, arms wrapped around her. She hugged back tightly, rubbing a hand between your shoulder blades before you pulled away. 

You felt better. The nap and the better weather helped kick the sadness out of you. You hated this part, feeling better and realizing how cynical you’d been earlier.

“Good to see you, Slim Jim,” you told Jimmy, hugging him quickly as well. You were happy to see him, deciding to focus on enjoying and savoring the long weekend with everyone instead of being miserable with sadness. Leaning back against the edge of the counter, feeling content, you smile. “Who all showed up when I was out?” 

“Uh, some friends of mine, Derek and Amy, showed up, Kev too, and he brought a friend,” he said, glancing down at the water like he couldn’t even remember who was there. “Brady’s about an hour or so out.”

The three of you chat for a while, catching up since it had been awhile since you’d seen Jimmy. He introduces you to the friends of his that were splitting the cabin for the weekend when they come through, and a moment later, you promise to catch up more later, deciding to head outside for a bit.

Outside, the sun beats down on you but you lift your chin to greet the warmth as you walk. It felt particularly good after the heavy rain of the drive in, the humidity from it clinging to the air still.

Making your way to the dock, someone you hadn’t met is standing there, football in hand. Kevin’s on the back of a jet ski with someone else driving, and it didn’t surprise you at all to see him jump off for the football when the man on the dock through it. No surprise, he missed the ball and landed in the water with a splash, and was already laughing when he resurfaced a moment later.

That’s when he spots you, hand shooting up in a wave with a wide smile. “Heyo!” he yells, already swimming toward the dock. You could hear the excitement in his voice, and nervousness pangs in your stomach.

You had only seen him once since he’d been traded a year and a half ago, when he’d been in town for a game and you hadn’t even realized it. Sophie had invited you out, and there he was, happy as ever to see you. You were grateful that the bar had been loud and that Brady had been occupying most of Kevin’s attention. After a drink and a half and a quick conversation with Sophie, you’d taken off, managing to avoid Kevin other than the hug he’d given you as a greeting.

Since Jimmy and Sophie were together and Brady had Gracia, you and Kevin had been the odd couple out, paired together during group activities. It worked out at least, considering the two of you got along great.u seldom hung out once  When all three of the guys lived together, the two of you always seemed to be the last two up, chatting or finishing a movie even after the others had gone to bed.

It had felt so natural to hook up with Kevin the handful of times it had happened in the months leading up to when he was traded. Each time had been when you were both the last two awake, lingering on the sofa, usually at least a little drunk. It had always been casual, and you told yourself the only reason it happened (and kept happening) were out of convenience. You’d certainly never seemed like his type, considering almost every girl you’d ever seen him talk to at a bar had the same slender build and the confidence that came with it.

You snapped yourself out of the thoughts, and tug at the fabric of your shirt self-consciously, feeling like it’s clinging to all the wrong parts of your body. Kevin’s eyes are on you still as he climbed the ladder to meet you on the dock, making you feel even more aware of yourself. He paused to grab a towel off the rail, rubbing it over his hair, then settling it over his shoulders. His swim shorts hung low on his hips and you force yourself to meet his eye, happy to see that he was smiling widely at you as he approached.

“It’s so good to see you,” he said, sounding as sincere as you could ever imagine. It felt like his smile had grown, and it made it impossible for you not to mirror the expression right back to him. “I’d hug you, but in case you didn’t notice, I was just in the lake.” You had forgotten how deep his voice was, and you tell yourself that it’s the sun that’s making you feel hot all over.

“I’m good with a rain check,” you responded, nodding at him. From the golden tone of his skin, you can tell he’s been outside a lot this summer. He looked great, as always, and you hadn’t expected anything less. 

“Good by me,” he told you with a laugh, bringing a hand out to ruffle your hair in lieu of a hug. You laugh with him, not quick enough to stop him. “How’s life been? Man, I feel like I haven’t seen or heard from you in forever.” You don’t let yourself think about his tone, how he almost sounds a little sad about it.

You shrug quickly in response to his question, still grinning. “Things are okay. Nothing’s really been going on, I guess. I miss you guys though.” Your hand comes up to shield the sun from your eyes, tilting your head up to see him better. He’s so tall that looking at him heads on would have you staring at the bit of hair that covers his chest, at how broad his shoulders are, and you were worried that you’d never stop if you started. “What about you? How’s Philly?” 

“I miss New York, but damn, Philly’s been great, I can’t even lie about it,” he admitted with a bit of a laugh. It was good to know that he’s happy, and you can feel it radiating off of him. “It’s a good city, and a good group of dudes. And this guy, over here,” he paused, voice a little louder as he motions behind him to the guy who’d thrown the football, “is Nolan. We lived together this year.”

Nolan looked at the two of you, holding up a hand to wave before turning his attention back to talking to one of Jimmy’s friends that’s floating in an inner-tube close to the dock. You were both silent for a moment then before whoever was on the jet ski yelled Kevin’s name, waving for him to come back out.

“You should come swim,” Kevin told you, motioning to whoever it was that he’d be there in a minute. 

Your eyebrows rose and you were quick to shake your head, even before self-consciousness dug its claws into you. “Nah, not right now at least,” you said, dismissing the idea with a wave of your hand. “I just came down to say hey, I’m actually going to go chill on the deck and read for a while, I think.”

For a short second, Kevin looked a little disappointed, but he doesn’t say anything about it. He instead nodded, smiling again already as his hand came up to your shoulder. “Yeah, gotcha.” It’s hard to ignore how large his hand is on you, the way he squeezes just slightly, his thumb brushing against your collarbone. “We’ll catch up more later.”

“Yeah, of course,” you told him, doing your best not to lean into his hand. Thankfully, he stepped away before your willpower went out, and you watched as he damn near sprinted back to the edge of the dock, jumping into the water in an effort to splash a friend.

You stopped in the cabin to grab your iPad, and on your way out to the back deck, a girl who introduced herself as Amy put a margarita in your hand and hugged you like she’d known you for years. It was a damn good margarita too, you realized as you settled on a lounge chair, stretching your legs out in front of you.

The rest of the afternoon ticks by easily. The margarita is rather strong, relaxing you into the chair as you read for the next hour and a half until Brady showed up. You’d been able to hear laughter and the occasional shouting from the water every so often, Kevin’s voice usually the loudest. Brady, Sophie, and Jimmy joined you on the deck a while later, and the four of you take the time to catch up a little more and figure out how to spend the next few days.

The sun had just stating to set when pizza arrived for dinner. The air is still warm, and someone was already working on starting a bonfire. Sophie was to your right at the picnic table, a little tipsy as she munched on some garlic bread.

Across the table, Brady was talking about his upcoming nuptials. Gracia hadn’t been able to make it for the trip, but you were glad he’d decided to come. Next to him, Kevin interjected with a dumb comment at one point, making Jimmy snicker.

“By the way, Kev, do you need a plus one? Have you been seeing anybody?” Brady asked, turning his head to look at him rather pointedly. It takes everything you have not to snicker a bit, lifting a slice a pizza to your mouth. 

“Naah, I’m not seeing anyone,” Kevin responded, lifting his shoulders in a shrug. “I’m sure I could find someone to go with, but I haven’t really dated much since Y/N.”

You freeze when he says your name, your mouth already half open to take a bite. What the fuck is he talking about? 

“We never dated,” you said, the words more sharp than you’d meant them to be. Your eyebrows have practically shot up, and you look away from him as an awkward silence hangs over the table for a beat until Sophie exhales a laugh.

Jimmy really came to the rescue by changing the subject, and your cheeks were burning by the time you met Kevin’s eye again. He actually looked a little amused, but rather than making you feel relieved, it makes heat curl down your spine. 

By the time it was completely dark, part of the group had settled on the sofa and chairs in the living room to watch a movie, while others decided to go on late ride on the lake. It was still plenty warm out, and you’d really hit a stride in the book you’d been working on, so you ended up back in the same chair you’d spent most afternoon in. The line of string lights gives the deck a nice glow to it, and you can hear the buzz of the TV in the living room.

The sliding glass door opens then closes, at you look up to see Kevin walking towards you.

“Is the movie no good?” you asked, tilting your head as you look at him. He had a beer in one hand and a hard cider in the other that he offered to you. The fact that he recognized your favorite brand in the fridge made you smile as you thanked him quietly for it.

“Movie’s fine, just thought I’d come see if you wanted to go for a walk or go hang by the water,” he responded, shrugging as he took a sip from the beer still in his hand.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” You shrugged back at him, flashing a grin as you got to your feet. Leaving your iPad on the seat for the time being, you follow him to the stairs, then down the trail to the dock.

“How are things in New York?” Kevin asked after a moment’s silence, and you glance up at him with a skeptical look.

“I thought we talked about this earlier,” you counter, taking a sip of your drink. He scoffed, shrugging beside you as the pair of you started down the dock.

“Yeah, I guess we did, really, how are things?” Kevin’s voice was lower this time, making your back straighten when he looked at you again. “How are you?”

You weren’t expecting such a direct question, and you’re grateful to deflect it for even a moment longer as you take the time kick off your shoes and sit on the edge of the dock. An answer still hasn’t found you, so you take a drink instead of speaking. Kevin watched you all the while as he sat next to you, making self-awareness prickle at the base of your neck.

“Life’s fucking weird right now,” you admit finally, looking at the reflection of the moon on the water. ��And it actually kind of fucking sucks too.” Kevin doesn’t respond right away, but when you took a deep breath, his elbow nudged yours lightly.

“You’ll get through it,” he assured you, with such sureness in his voice that you looked at him with a warm smile.

“I know I will. It’s just hard, but I’m dramatic, so of course it feels like the end of an era or something.” Your shoulders rise then fall in a shrug, still looking at him. “And then I feel selfish for even feeling that way to begin with. I know it wasn’t your choice to leave, or Brady’s, or Jimmy’s. I’m trying not to let myself be too sad about it.” You were surprised that your voice remained even as you spoke.

The words hang in the air and Kevin nodded, bring a hand up to touch the back of your shoulder. You feel warm all over as his fingers splay over your upper back, and you find yourself biting the edge of your tongue when tears sting in your eyes. 

“I was sad about leaving too. I knew I’d miss the guys, that I’d miss you, but that’s what makes trips like these nice, getting to catch up and just hang out for a few days,” he said finally, his hand still on your shoulder when he met your eye. “I’m honestly surprised you’re not following Sophie to Buffalo.”

Your nose scrunched at the thought and you shook your head, exhaling a quick laugh. “I honestly thought about it, but I know she’s excited to be moving in with him, and I don’t want her to feel like she has to always keep me company or something,” you explained, peeling at the edge of the label on your bottle with your thumbnail. You weren’t sad enough about being alone in New York to justify moving upstate, you knew that much.

“Philly’s not far from New York, y’know. You can always come hang with me and Nolan, and I know there’s a few other guys on the team you’d have a good time with,” Kevin offered, taking a long swig of his beer as his hand finally fell from your shoulder. “Or I could visit you. We could go to that one bakery you like so much, watch movie or TV all day, just kind of chill.”

A wide smile spread across your face. “Yeah, I’d like that,” you said, taking the chance to nudge him with your elbow. Kevin nodded, still grinning as he nudged you right back. It felt good to be talking to him, to have him close enough to smell his cologne for the first time in a year and a half.

There was another pause, and you both took a drink, the sound of frogs and crickets hanging around you.

“Sorry for putting you on the spot like that at dinner. It was meant to be a joke,” he said finally, taking another drink to finish off the bottle. You glance up at him and it almost looked like he was blushing a bit over it.

Scoffing, you shake your head. “Don’t worry about it, but Kev, you know we never dated,” you told him, laughing as you finish off your own drink.

“We kind of did!” he responded, laughing with you. “We went out plenty of times!”

“Dude, texting me ‘hey, are you hungry?’ at 11pm, then going to a 24 hour diner does not count as a date.” You snorted, shaking your head. When he caught your eye, he was smiling almost bashfully.

“Okay, fine,” he conceded, holding your gaze. “The next time we go on a date, I’ll make sure you’re aware of it, deal?”

Your response is to laugh again, nodding and looking away this time. The way he’s looking at you makes you feel like you’re back on the sofa in their old apartment at 2am. A chill ran down you and you exhaled a breathe, watching the way the water rippled as a breeze swept through.

“I’m really did miss you,” Kevin told you, and from the corner of your eye, you know he was watching you again. Nervousness plucked along the back of your neck, and you kept your eyes on the water. “Like, way more than I miss Jimmy and Brady, honestly.” You don’t fully believe him, but either way, the sentiment makes your heart ache. 

With your jaw clenched, you exhaled a breath as your eyes burned with the threat of tears. “I missed you most too,” you assured him, swallowing the lump in your throat. 

“Good.” He paused, tilting his head up to look at the stars for a moment. “Can we watch season two of Fleabag sometime this weekend?” Kevin looked at you a second later and blinked as you laughed.

“Yeah, of course. That’s an oddly specific request,” you said, letting your eyes move over the lines of his face as he shrugged.

“I haven’t watched it yet, I was waiting until I could watch it with you.” His words made you blink, and your throat swelled, hating this rush of emotions now that you’d felt happier for most of the day. You didn’t really know what to say, so you just nodded again, suddenly feeling the urge to lean into him to bury your face in his neck comfortably.

A few months before he had been traded, you’d started the first season at 1:30am after a night of drinking. Brady had been at Gracia’s, and Jimmy and Sophie hadn’t even made it through the first episode. Considering the season consisted of six 25 minute episodes, it was easy for you and Kevin to stay up and watch the entire first season, curled up together on the couch.

You and Kevin had spent the following half hour making out like teenagers until he absolutely begged you to come to bed with him. Feeling heat beside your thighs, you now wish you had said yes, just to have that extra memory.

The two of you spend the next several minutes in silence, sitting side by side on the dock in the dark. You can hear music playing from the cabin behind you and the murmur of voices surrounding the fire pit that was a dozen feet away. Your heart was racing as you fidgeted after a while, trying to ignore the feelings for him that you had buried when he was traded that were now bubble at the surface.

Eventually, Kevin mentioned going up to the house for more drinks, and you agreed, getting to your feet with a sigh. You looked up at him briefly, then toward the house behind you.

“Before we head up, can I cash in my rain check for that hug from earlier?” he asked, running a hand over his hair as he watched you.

“Yeah, of course,” you responded, smiling widely as you walked into the arms he held open for you. 

You let out a breathe as he hugged you tightly, your face pressed into his chest. He smelled as good as he always did, and warmth of his hand rubbing over your back had you relaxing into him. Your fingers curl in the fabric of his shirt when he kissed the side of your head once, then a second time. 

“It’s gonna be a good weekend, yeah?” he murmured, the words muffled against your hair. It took everything you had not to shiver against him, and you nodded, happy to keep yourself nuzzled securely against him for a while longer. 

A FEW MORE NOTES: Well, this fic feels a lot more emotional than I’m used to writing, and it’s one of those things that I really like where I’m heading with this, but I worry about it seeming whiny or wishy-washy, but here it is anyway. How typical of me to vanish for months, then show up with a new story when everyone’s been waiting for Bring You Back to Me’s next chapter 😂 I love whoever of you are still reading at this point, and I hope you enjoy this fic. I loved the first part, but I’m so not used to writing anymore and that, paired with my ever present self-doubt, I’m like “is this fic good at all??? let’s fucking see!!!” and here we are 🤷🏻‍♀️

FRIDAY

[unknown-writing]

Summary:

    You’ve felt Sad before. But lately, it’s been getting worse these days. Nothing has helped you pull yourself out of this slump. You tried doing anything that your fellow crewmates recommended, but nothing worked. Not even the most basic of tasks helped get you out of this slump.

So….You turned to Other Stuff. You didn’t care whether or not drugs or alcohol wouldn’t actually help you. You just wanted to forget about your Sadness for a while...Even if it was just for five minutes.

-----------------

Warning(s):      Drug Use[Future chapter(s)], Alcohol consumption[Future chapter(s)], Depression, angst, mentions of suicide attempts[Future chapter(s)], mentions of self-starvation, eventual smut[Future chapter(s).]

Word count: 1k+

Author’s Note: Been feeling really down lately...So, I’m using my crush with Law to my advantage to fight against my intrusive thoughts. Sorry if this starts becoming too much for you to read. Feel free to block my tag “a helping hand” to avoid triggers~!

         You’ve felt Sad before. But lately, it’s been getting worse these days. Nothing has helped you pull yourself out of this slump. You tried doing anything that your fellow crewmates recommended, but nothing worked. Not even the most basic of tasks helped get you out of this slump.

So….You turned to Other Stuff. You didn’t care whether or not drugs or alcohol wouldn’t actually help you. You just wanted to forget about your Sadness for a while...Even if it was just for five minutes.

You counted the amount of days you’ve been feeling Sad like this. And you counted 32 days straight...32 days of constant sadness, some days were bad, other days where so bad that you never even got up unless somebody came to fetch you for Law. Today was no exception to those extremely bad days. By the time you had woken up, it was already past Noon, and everybody had gone to the Island that they'd reached to stock up on supplies for their next voyage. Groggy as all hell, you slowly woke up, your body felt extremely heavy and Hot...Too hot almost, you just ignored the heat though and went to change into your usual casual but nice looking attire for the day, slapping on a baggy, unclean tank-top, your baggy sweatpants that you’ve been wearing for the past month, and then your running shoes.

You lazily pulled yourself together before heading out to the main dining room area in the hopes of grabbing some food, only to pause and remember that the main reason why the ship wasn’t moving was because they went to stock up on food. “No food huh?....Guess I’ll starve.” You mumbled to yourself, grabbing at least a bottle of water before heading out so it made it look like you’ve eaten.

Gulping down half of the bottle already, you reached the main lobby area of the ship, seeing the same crew members that followed Law, they were just muttering amongst themselves quietly, they sounded more excited than usual to you, “Too Loud...” You thought to yourself as you decided to head outside for some fresh air rather than mingle with the crew today. Despite the fact that you barely know any of them aside from Bepo and Penguin for the most part, as they’re the ones that tend to stick to Law’s hip like lost kittens.

Once you were outside of the ship, you noticed a lot of boxes that started showing up out of the blue, you then noticed that you had walked into a Room created by Law. “....Right, I forgot we were gathering more supplies….” You thought as you took a look at what he’d gotten for his crew, and possible extra’s in case they ran into the Straw Hat’s as they’re still in an Alliance of sorts from what you can recall. You yawned before going forward while crawling down from the top of the Submarine, placing your water bottle down on a closed box nearby so you could at the very least, help put the stuff back.

Before you could move anything though, Bepo noticed you were awake, “Oh!? Y/n san’s finally awake!” he shouted while pointing towards you lifting a box to give it to another, much more stronger crew member to carry it down into the ship for you. Law noticed that you were trying to help despite how late you’ve slept in recently. “Morning.” he says as he patted your head gently while climbing up into his ship for the day to get stuff organized. You didn’t do much, you were just helping lifting boxes but even so, that got you a “Morning” from your captain, usually he would just glare at you then turn to finish whatever he was doing. Shrugging it off, you continued to help out until your arms felt like jelly, being the weaker one out of the group, you were better off at organizing stuff rather than carrying it.

As the crew gathered in the main hallway, Law looked around to see that stuff wasn’t  organized like he thought it was, “Tch...Dammit. Everything seems to be mis-matched and out of order. That’ll be a pain in the ass to deal with.” He looked as he opened the boxes, to find that the only things that were separated was Produce and Weaponry (Guns, Gun Ammo etc.)  You looked at his irritated face and then spoke up, “I can organize things for you, Law.” You offered, bending down to be at his height level to look at the current box of mis-matched random items..Some of them seemed to be medicine and bandages, while others looked like paperwork stuff. “You know how to organize Y/n? I highly doubt it seeing your room is a mess.” He bounty states, commenting on your messy room. You chose to ignore that though and stood up, “I can organize shit! I may need help though.” You asked him, hoping he’d order the crew to help you organize this stuff better for him while he did other stuff that needed his attention. “....Fine….You can take charge in organizing this Mess...Bepo will come with me to navigate us to the next Island….” He pauses then glares at the crew that didn’t seem to accept the fact that the weakest member of the ship was the one bossing them around, “And the lot of you...Listen to y/n! The faster this shit gets organized, the faster we set sail got it? I don’t want to be bothered by random bullshit complaints because a chick’s bossin’ you around.” he bluntly comments again, making the crew stiffen in slight fear of his booming voice that echoed the room.

After three straight hours of organizing, replacing, and relabeling items, you sat down on the nearest surface your body could reach. That was a daunting task to do considering you’re not in the best mindset right now. Ikkaku helped out with part of the relabeling the items that seemed to either have a missing label, or have the wrong one altogether. “Well, that went by fairly swiftly..” Penguin commented while placing the final box with the rest of them before flopping on the floor, completely drained from helping out with the heavy lifting. You sat there, now regretting not at least grabbing a small thing to eat before starting this heavy workload, your stomach growled softly, which made you flustered. “Hungry huh?” Ikkaku commented while standing up again to get back to work, “Yeah….Maybe just a little bit.” You admit, but didn’t mention that you didn’t eat anything for breakfast or lunch either.

Part of the crew split off after organizing stuff for you to get started on dinner as it was already close to 7pm. You decided to go back to your room until dinner was ready. The comment about how messy your room was started to repeat in your head until you had flopped onto your bed, groaning in annoyance, “Why does he have to be so right.”

You then fell asleep through dinner. Your mental state was getting even worse than what it already was.

--------------------------------------

        You didn’t mean to sleep right through dinner. You even had set up an alarm to wake you at least 25 minutes before so you had time to wake up, get dressed quickly, then head out to the dinning hall...But, by the time you had woken up, it was 7:30am the next morning, at least from what your clock had told you. You couldn’t tell since the ship was under water again, having set sail for the next Island which would take them a while to get too. You groaned, cursing as you slowly got up again and then sighed. Your eyes weren’t even fully open yet but you still got up regardless to go eat something for today.

You paused before standing up from the bed, hearing muffled whispers against your door, you thought you were hallucinating and just shrugged it off. But, the whispers kept happening, they started to get louder and from what you can tell, the whispered voices seemed to be arguing about something. “--No! You wake her up! The last time I woke her up, she threw her pillow at my face in irritation!” A male voice echoed, you instantly recognized who it was...Groaning, you yawned as you stood up to head outside to see why Bepo and whoever else was there, was arguing right in front of your door so early in the morning. They /know/ your not a morning person, so why the fuck are they here?

Unlocking the door, the two crewmates flinched to see you after being asleep for so long. “O-Oh! Hello y/n san! Good morning!” Bepo stuttered out, nervous on why you look so deadly. It worried him that you looked like this. “.....Morning……” You weakly responded, noticing that Ikkaku was holding a tray of food for you..A lot of it too, it looked like they were some of your favorite meals they had prepared. “Sorry to bother you y/n san but, we thought you were sick, so we brought you some food! We made sure to bring a lot of it because you missed out on food yesterday.” She said, pointing out that she noticed you were hungry yesterday. You internally smacked yourself, forgetting that you never ate a single thing yesterday. Reaching out for the tray of piled on food, you took it to place it on the small desk you had then turned to face them, “Thanks for the food.” You said weakly, as you closed the door to your bedroom.

“Don’t thank us.” Ikkaku said before turning to head the other way, “Thank Law. Since he was the one that noticed you weren’t at dinner last night.” She said before leaving with Bepo following her….Haring that line, just made you feel more guilty. You had worried your captain to the point of him making enough food for you to eat for the day, despite the fact that you’re just not Hungry. Sighing, you still decided to eat some of the food in front of you, even if it was just in small bites here and there. Even so, you couldn’t finish that much. Setting aside, you flopped back on the bed.

The next few hours had passed. You woke up to loud banging against your door, startled awake, you groaned as you got up, “Alright already, I’m awake! Sheesh!” You yelled, then started to mutter to yourself, “Don’t start snapping back y/n-ya.” Law replied, which made you freeze up. You should’ve expected that he was the one that would start banging on the door next, considering he’s your captain, and a doctor. Opening the door to see that he was scowling, he looked down at you, a sting of guilt punched your throat, which made you start to stutter out a weak response to his glare. He didn’t respond back however, all he did was walk into your room and started turning on the bedroom lights for you, seeing that you’ve done nothing but stay in the dark for the last 72 hours.

“Three days.” he starts off after he clicks on your nightstand lamp before turning back to glare down at you, “it’s been three days since you’ve been cooped up in here by yourself.” A low growl of irritation leaked his throat, which caused you to flinch again. A brief moment of silence filled the room before you could respond, “....I’m Sorry.” You simply said while staring at the floor, feeling both guilty and nervous on what he was going to do next. Before you could respond, all he did was lift you with one arm over his shoulder, and then bring you to his office for a small Chat about your Mental State.

[mrs-han]

Here With Me

Heeey could i request an scenario where the mc is stood up by Jumin , like she waits for him at the restaurant but he doesnt arrive bc he forgot since he has been stressed out with work all week and suddenly Jaehee lets him know and its all angsty but with a happy ending pleasee♡♡♡♡

~~~

Sure thing! Thank you for your submission!

~~~

"Madam, would you like to come inside?"

"No, no. My husband should be coming shortly, and I'd like to be here when he shows," you smiled, securing your scarf over your shoulders.

As the valet entered the building that chilly august evening, the thought of Jumin kept you warm, even gave you the strength to stay outside and wait for a little while longer. It had been over a month, and you two had finally scheduled a date night—no work, no distractions - just he before your eyes and you before his.

You fiddled with your lace gloves and primped your hair, glancing at the glass window as it acted as your mirror. You were fully decked out in the most delicate lavender twill dress, six-inch stiletto pumps, and fastened in your hair was a pin Jumin had picked out himself for you to don. You always wanted to look your best for this man, and frankly, you were excited to see how he would react.

Cars passed by the grand venue - you straightened and eventually slouched as you noticed a few of them stop, but none of the occupants were Jumin. Snow began to drizzle over you, and, with a faint shiver, you checked your watch.

0950.

You blinked and tapped the watch - that wasn't right. You had only been waiting for half an hour, not an hour and a half... right? You dug your phone from your purse and tapped his icon.

"This is Jumin Han, Director of C&R. Thank you for your call, but I am away -"

You ended the call quickly and called him again. And again. You were greeted with the same voice message, and your heart sunk in your stomach.

He didn't forget... did he?

~~~

"Mr. Han, it's getting late," Jaehee smiled forcefully, gripping her pen in one hand and her travel mug in the other. "This is a good stopping point, don't you agree?"

"Not quite," Jumin sighed, pushing his hair back and tapping his diamond pen against his desk. "We're missing something... something important."

"A meeting with the Prime Minister of Sweden is no small feat," Jaehee huffed, pressing her back against the chair. "But I assure you, we've covered everything we need to cover. You know everything about him, perhaps too much."

Jumin examined his notes and furrowed his brows. "No... no, something is missing."

Jaehee raised a brow and crossed her arms. "I assure you, Mr. Han. This missing artifact has nothing to do with the prime minister."

"I don't see what your hurry is. Tomorrow is Saturday, you have plenty of time to rest then."

"Until you call me in to do something," Jaehee muttered under her breath. "Listen, Mr. Han, with all due respect. It is going on twenty-two hundred hours and fifteen minutes, and I would like to go home."

Jumin looked dubiously shocked. It had gotten that late so quickly... his eyes widened. "Today is Friday."

"Yes, today is Friday," Jaehee nodded.

"No, no, no." Jumin slammed his folders closed and adjusted his tie, a frantic air about him.

"What is it?" Jaehee asked, observing his facial expression turn to one of confusion to one of realization.

Jumin dashed past his chief assistant, muttering slurs under his breath and heading towards the penthouse's front door. "I don't have time to explain."

"Mr. Han, if you're heading outdoors, you'll need your coat -"

Jumin flung the door open... and there you stood, shivering and dripping wet from the melted snow. You lifted your eyes and met his apologetic gaze.

"My... my love... I -"

You shoved your way past him, wrapping your scarf around your reddened face. There was no way you were about to let him see you cry.

Jumin stumbled back and tried to reach for you, but you were too fast. You ran down the hall and into the guest bedroom, slamming the door behind you.

"MC!" Jumin called while chasing you, slamming against the door as it closed. He pressed his palms against the wood, then his forehead. "MC, please."

Jaehee quietly gathered her coat and murmured, "I will see you on Monday, Mr. Han."

Jumin, too distracted by you, didn't care to hear her. "MC? MC, may I come in? Darling?"

He placed his hand over the doorknob and gripped it, ready to turn the handle - when he heard your sobs. Every sniffle, every sad moan, he listened to, desperate to soothe you.

"My love... my love -"

"Go away! Get away from me!" You hollered, throwing several objects at the door. "I don't want to see you, I don't want to talk to you!"

Jumin closed his eyes, your words piercing all parts of his heart. He waited for more words to come from you; he wanted to hear from you, even if your words had the potential to kill him from the inside out.

But you didn't say anything. Instead, you wailed and sobbed... and those sounds alone did more damage to him than any insult.

Jumin pressed himself against the door and sank slowly, his hand still on the doorknob. He would respect your wish and leave you alone, but he refused to be too far away. When you were ready to talk, he would be there.

His determination did not falter after an hour had passed, and another. He sat patiently outside of the guest bedroom and began to nod off when he realized - there was no sound coming from the other side of the door. It was utterly silent.

"MC? I'm opening the door," Jumin cooed, pressing the door open slowly.

He peeked in and saw you, not sound asleep as he had imagined. No, your back was facing him. Your gown, gloves, shoes, and jewels had been thrown onto the floor, a thick blanket the only thing covering you. You sat erect, like a graceful statue, gazing at the city below.

Jumin waited for you to throw him out with your words again, but no such thing happened. You were completely silent. He wasn't much of a risk-taker, and he didn't pride himself on being one. But for you, he was willing to do anything.

Jumin stepped into the room and closed the door behind him, his eyes squarely on your figure.

You didn't make a sound.

He walked towards you, slightly shier than his naturally confident stride.

You didn't make a sound.

He sat down beside you and, without hesitation, wrapped an arm around your body.

Your statuesque figure faltered, and you crumbled at his touch.

"My love -"

"How could you," you trembled, covering your face with your hands. "We had planned this date for a long, long time now! How could you forget!"

Jumin didn't say a word. He hung his head shamefully and pulled you closer to him, grateful you didn't draw away.

"I looked like such a fool, waiting for you out in the snow!" You sniffed. "I, I watched cars come and go, and I thought, that's him! In that car there! But it was never you, Jumin, you never showed up!"

Jumin looked at you, sorrow and regret the only legible expression on his face.

"I'm so embarrassed, and so... I'm so disappointed, Jumin... and I've never felt so much... anger towards you before..."

You wiped at your tears many times over, but they continued to bombard you, and your vision blurred. "I'm so angry," you sobbed. "So, so angry..."

Your emotions pounded within you, overtaking you; you curled into yourself and trembled vigorously.

A soft thump. That's what you heard. He's gone, you thought, moving your hands away from your eyes.

But no. Jumin was still there with you, now on his knees.

"What... what are you -"

Jumin grabbed your bare foot delicately and kissed your arch once, twice, three times over. "Forgive me," he whispered fiercely, pressing his forehead against your cold skin. "Forgive me, MC. I was a careless man, a thoughtless man, and my foolishness meant leaving you out in the cold, waiting for me..."

Your lower lip trembled, and, as much as you tried to stop it, more tears came flooding down your cheeks.

"I hurt you," Jumin whispered, kissing your ankle, your calf, your knee. "I hurt you terribly, my angel... and I beg you to forgive me."

"Jumin..."

"I'm so sorry." His hot breath created goosebumps through your bare legs and up to your bare arms. "I'm so sorry."

You fell to the floor and tried to wrap your arms around him, but he was much faster than you. Jumin pressed you to his body, engulfing you entirely. You sobbed against his chest as feelings of anger turned into feelings of complete and utter devotion towards this man, your husband - your Jumin.

In his arms, you stayed until exhaustion overcame you. Jumin glanced down at you, lifting your chin to meet his eyes - you were fast asleep. Many thoughts ran through his mind - you needed a warm bath and a warm bed, who knows how long you had been standing in the cold. He needed to snap to it and make you as comfortable as possible.

But as he moved to pick you up, you pressed your head to his chest and let out a small groan. You were no longer crying, no longer in a state of despondency... no, you seemed to be in a place of peace. Perhaps he could treat you to a nice, warm bath, luxurious bedding, delicious food, and an enjoyable movie - whatever you wanted. For now, he wanted to watch you sleep. Indeed, he wanted to etch the peaceful expression in your face into both his brain and heart.

Besides - he was in an extremely uncomfortable position, his legs falling asleep and his back steadily aching. Yes, this well deserved, self-inflicted punishment would work magnificently.

[leejungchans]

juliet’s relationships with ateez.

they’re so beautiful i’m gonna fucking cryhdjhfjshsjs i’m going through it 💔

#HONGJOONG; (HONGLIET)

juliet is the self-proclaimed favourite child of hongjoong

she was very shy pre-debut and was scared of clashing with him, so they never fought

they became a lot closer when she asked hongjoong to help her with her rapping; she was always trained to be a vocalist so she thought her rapping needed work and (shyly) approached him asking for his advice

as they became more comfortable with each other, she learnt to honestly communicate her thoughts with him

makes sure hongjoong doesn’t overwork himself; brings him food, coffee, or just accompanies him silently when he’s working; will not hesitate to use her sad puppy eyes to convince him to go back to their dorm so he can get proper rest

she always looks on with a very proud smile when she hears hongjoong speaking in english; he picked up a little bit of her aussie accent too :>

actually doesn’t mind being a little shorter than him but she wears platform shoes a lot to tease him; he has jokingly threatened to throw them away

she is very worried about his scalp; but she loved his red and blue hair, and of course the famous mullet

with hongjoong especially it’s literally “juliet see, juliet do” :c

hongjoong dotes on juliet especially because she will always be a baby in his eyes; when they first met she was around 15, so he has always been really gentle with her; he looks after her extremely well

never lets her pay for anything despite her protests

she wants to treat him to stuff too :<

overall a very wholesome relationship

#SEONGHWA; (HWALIET)

another very, very wholesome relationship

he’s so, so gentle with her but will goof around with her too :(((

is the one who brings snacks, an extra jacket or blanket for her because she always forgets

when they first debuted, juliet would be very uneasy before public appearances because of the hate and comments she’d get; seonghwa was always there to calm her down and support her

when she was still in school he would nag her to do her homework hajshwjsj

she’s close with all the boys’ family but perhaps the closest with seonghwa’s and will sometimes visit his family with him during breaks!!

seonghwa is usually the first person juliet goes to if she’s having a bad day

she clings to him a lot, like, a lot; she will attach herself to his arm like a koala any chance she gets

sharing almost identical disgusted expressions

he always makes sure she’s eating; he gets sad if she doesn’t

late night talks with warm tea

each other’s #1 hype man; as much as she acts disgusted when seonghwa does aegyo or purposefully acts sexy, you can always hear her cheering him on in the background

that doesn’t mean she doesn’t tease him though

“excuse me, please put your tongue away” “mY hiPs aRe fLeXibLe” “sO hAwT” “wOw, AmAziNg” “...please stop”

#YUNHO; (JUNHO)

two babies

juliet lives to see yunho smile and it’s her life’s mission to make sure he stays happy forever

yunho always gives her piggyback rides

the height difference between these two is the funniest thing ever because she isn’t even that short but she always looks like a dwarf next to yunho

“uh...excuse me, you’re forgetting something :/” “huh? ohhh...[crouches down to match her height]” “thank you :D”

yunho brings out juliet’s happiest side effortlessly because it’s just impossible to be sad around him

that being said, yunho is her designated giant teddy bear whenever she’s sad

they always start dancing out of nowhere

you will hear her whooping and cheering very loudly in the background whenever yunho twerks and stuff

yunho’s fellow harry potter fan

he likes pinching her cheeks, patting her head and playing with her hair

but if he tries to use her head as an armrest she will kick him (out of love :3)

#YEOSANG; (SANGLIET)

someone save ateez from these two because they love roasting everyone

will not hesitate to roast each other as well

best friends who judge people together

when the others say or do something questionable, you can sometimes see yeosang and juliet exchange looks or hide their faces from secondhand embarrassment

little beans who get shy easily :(

she is yeosang’s biggest hype man; he could literally just be breathing and she will still go “wow, a living statue, absolutely breathtaking” “an angel sent to us from the heavens above” “yes, vocal king! yes, dance legend!”

they do everything in tiny :((((((((

they dance to the ponytail song together

she loves his birthmark so much and practically tells him that every day; she thinks it makes him even more beautiful and unique

he likes her cooking a lot so she always makes him food and lets him help out

“please don’t cut off your finger...” “do fingers grow back?” “i don’t know but i don’t want to find out from you.”

The™ best comedic duo but no one is ready to admit that yet

#SAN; (JUSAN)

juliet constantly judges san jokingly but she’s honestly just as chaotic

he once spun her ipad on his finger and almost dropped it; she didn’t speak to him for an hour

like hongjoong, san also picked up on her aussie accent a bit

juliet goes :OOOO every time san shows off his martial arts skills

if they’re not wreaking havoc together, then one of them is filming the other wreaking havoc alone while laughing hysterically behind the camera

she looks up to san so, so much; the way he improved his dancing tremendously through hard work and determination inspires her deeply

they learn other groups’ choreographies together

hypes the other up for everything

loves his voice so much; listens to him sing with heart eyes and vice versa

so, so clingy :((( they’re just tiny babies who need a lot of love and affection

juliet loves san so much and it breaks her heart knowing that he struggles with self-esteem like she does; they have a lot of deep talks where they talk for hours in the dark

#MINGI; (2MIN)

2Min!!!!!! 🥺

a giant and a baby

that only applies to their heights, though; because they’re both babies personality-wise

juliet is either being loud and dumb with him or she’s going “ahsjajsj please stop, we’re idols •_•”; there is no in between

she’d let mingi give her more piggyback rides but the first time he gave her one he almost dropped her

juliet never shuts up about how good mingi is at rapping and dancing; she’ll tell you that at least once a day

“anyways, mingi is such a good rapper and dancer. did i mention how phenomenal he is? because he is the best rapper and dancer :]”

whenever juliet sings/dances, mingi always looks on very proudly

“our main vocalist/dancer, everyone!”

her designated giant teddy bear number 2

like with hongjoong, she makes sure mingi is eating and sleeping because he works a lot too :(

it makes mingi really happy when she tries to rap his parts

juliet is the leader of the mingi protection squad, if you hurt him she’ll actually k word you in your sleep

#WOOYOUNG; (2YOUNG)

2Young; when they get paired up together for stuff, they introduce themselves with “2!” “Young!”

dear god, they are so loud

she’s either the first one shushing him or the others are telling both of them to shut up

wooyoung screams a lot so to juliet the only solution is to be even louder

siblings who annoy each other but also love the other to bits and will kill for each other

one time they did a v-live together and an atiny pointed out how when juliet says “no” it sounds like “noerrrrr”; wooyoung hasn’t let it go since and clowns her for it every chance he gets

one minute they’re bickering over something stupid and the next they’re cuddling on the sofa and laughing at random stuff on their phones

wooyoung teases her for literally everything, from her height to her australian accent; it’s a miracle she hasn’t killed him yet

“wooyoung dance king!”

she loves his vocals so much :(

she also loves his laugh; she thinks it’s very contagious and it always makes her laugh even harder

very clingy pt.2 :(((((

they like to cook together; despite juliet’s constant teasing, she genuinely loves his cooking

the biggest army’s

the duo that has everyone wrapped around their fingers

#JONGHO; (JONGLIET)

they’re the youngest ones so they’re bound to be chaotic together

they have a secret handshake!!

since they’re the only ones who don’t share a birth year with anyone in the group, they call themselves the “21st century duo”

another tom-and-jerry relationship but they love each other to bits i promise :’)

high note battles that make the others go •_•

their duets though :’)))) a blessing

when they sang miss a’s “good-bye baby” together at mama 2019

vocal legends

jongho always use the fact that she’s the youngest against her, especially when they’re asked to do aegyo

“i think the maknae should do it >:)” “jongHO SHUTUPJAGSJAJS”

“well, he’s the youngest among the boys, so i think he should go too”; cue his look of ultimate betrayal

imagine her face when she saw his red hair for the first time :(

“omgomgomg now you’re a real apple!!!” :(((((

more piggyback rides!!

okay, but juliet is honestly so grateful for jongho; they’re the closest in age so it’s always very easy for her to talk to him and she loves him a lot :’(

they understand each other very deeply and usually they don’t need to exchange words to know what the other is thinking/feeling

she can overthink a lot and in those moments he’s her voice of reason and is always there to help her through those times

partners in crime :>

[vintagehedgehogdragon]

Demon Brothers with an GN/MC who has a Learning Disability

Warning: Some Angst, panic attacks, anxiety, disability talk, self deprecation, disordered eating, medication, insomnia

Lucifer

He saw in your file that you had ADHD, Dyscalculia and Dysgraphia. He doesn’t really understand what it meant but talk to him about it and he will listen. 

He keeps an eye on his Brother’s grades as well as yours. When he notices your grades slipping slightly he goes to check on you. He arrives at your door, as he is about to knock he hears you sobbing and quietly walks in. 

Sees you hunched over your textbook with large tears streaming down your cheeks. He won’t show it outwardly but his heart is breaking seeing you this upset. Walks up to your chair and pulls you into a gentle embrace, while running his fingers through your hair.

“Focus on your breathing Y/N, try to match your breathing with mine” his voice is calm and soothing.

As you hiccup a thank you through your choked sobs, he asks you what happened to make you this upset.

When you tell him you were struggling to focus and were getting frustrated with yourself because you’ve been working on this paper for a while and you just can’t seem to put the words in your brain down on paper. 

“Why don’t you pack up your work and join me in my study, we can take a break and have some tea together. I’m working on some paperwork and wouldn’t mind the company.”

Mammon

You’re in your room doing some math work. The numbers start looking like just random squiggles only being made worse by the tears threatening to fall from your eyes. You though you were done with having to take math classes, until you came to the Devildom. 

“Oi, Human put your shoes on. The great Mammon is taking you on an adventure” You hear as your door flies open. In the doorway stood the White haired demon with a familiar smirk. 

He doesn’t really look at you while he walks over and flops down on your bed. Your back is to him so he can’t see the fact you are silently crying into your hands. He notices that you hadn’t greeted him and goes over to see what’s going on.

He’s nervous and wonders if he did something wrong or if you are mad at him. Once he gets closer he can see your shoulders heaving and can hear your breath hitch while you try to not let him see. 

He can see you’ve been crying, who hurt his human? 

“Y/N what happened?” He pulls you into his arms, trying to hide the blush growing redder on his face. 

You explain that you have Dyscalculia and that you’ve always had a hard time understand math problems. You can do basic math like adding and subtracting fine but anything other than that is like a foreign language to you. 

“Oh is that all, you shoulda come to me first. I am the Great Mammon after all, besides numbers are kinda my thing” he said with a coy wink

Pulls over a chair and starts to slowly explain the problems to you. When he noticed you were getting flustered he suggested that you two take a break and go for a walk.

He starts to tutor you weekly, and yes he is blushing hard the whole time

Levi

He only notices that you tend to be able to keep up with him playing video games well into the early mornings

It isn’t until Lucifer has a talk with both of you about your grades slipping

You then mention about having ADHD and your tendency to hyper focus on something, and that you usually have to set time limits on various things otherwise you will only focus on that one thing and will drown out everything else around you.

He understands, He will do the same thing playing video games.

When you two play together you start setting alarms so you can make sure you get everything else you need to do done. 

He will even offer to do homework with you so you can play after for a little while.

Blushy boy just wants to spend time with you no matter what you do. He’ll blush harder if you brush your hand against his while studying together. 

Satan

-He notices. You fidget non stop. Whether it’s bouncing your leg, tapping your fingers or playing with your hair. 

You two are reading on his couch one day and your bouncing your knee up and down

“Nervous Y/N?” He asks softly peering up at you over the book he was reading

“Hm?” You mumble looking at him brows furrowed, then looking at your knee. You can feel your ears getting hot. “Sorry, I can’t help it” and move to cross your legs under yourself so you don’t move them as much.

You explain that having ADHD you sometimes have access energy that you can’t quite control and fidgeting helps the overstimulated feeling. He had already known what ADHD was, but still does more research. 

He wants to help you as much as he can. He finds some quiet fidget items that he keeps in his room for you to hold on to while you read together. 

He notices that you tend not to fidget if you are sitting in his lap while you both read your own thing. He will pull you into his lap if you start to fidget, and won’t ever tell you why. He enjoys the closeness. 

Asmo

-The first time he notices is when you are doing homework together one day and he asked to see your notes for the class he had missed. 

You started to panic internally, you had trouble reading your own writing how was he going to be able to read it. 

This man has beautiful handwriting. 

He also sees the look of panic on your face and returns a look of concern back

You tell him that you have Dysgraphia and you struggle with spelling and legible handwriting. 

“Oh I’m sure it’s fine, have you seen my brothers’” gently brushing his hand down your arm, He takes your notes and starts to write his own humming softly to himself.

‘Perfect, Thank you Y/N” pushing some hair behind your ear

Offers to help you with notes (probably just makes copies of them) 

Starts making his letters more fancy to give you something beautiful to look at when you study.

Beel

-He notices that you sometimes don’t show up to meals on weekdays, but on weekends you have what he thinks is a “normal” human appetite 

when he asks if you’ve eaten on such weekdays you respond with “Oh no, but I’m not really hungry”

Soft boy gets really concerned, and asks you about it.

You explain that on days you have important things to do, such as school you take medication that helps you focus and sometimes it makes it hard to have an appetite because of the medication, or you just forget to eat.

He starts to knock on your door and ask you to come to down to eat with him

Will bring extra snacks and water to your study dates 

He will also text you to make sure you’ve eaten.

Belphie

-He notices. 

You’ll be laying down getting ready to go to sleep and you just can’t seem to get your brain to turn off.

He notices you squirming trying to get comfortable, he’s a little bit grumpy but just pulls you tighter into him.

After what feels like an eternity you finally fall asleep, but not for long.

Your eyes shoot open and you reach over to grab your phone the numbers flash 1:45. You’ve only been asleep for 2 hours.

“Why are you awake?” A soft lazy voice chimes out. 

You turn to face him “Sorry I’ve been having a hard time sleeping lately” you tell him that for you having ADHD means that you also have a hard time falling and staying asleep.

He gets it. Starts doing what he can to help you sleep. Occasionally will (with your consent) using his power to help you fall asleep.

He might also suggest mediating with Beel.

[heyheydidjaknow]

I would’ve posted this earlier but, alas, I passed out early. This is a longer one, but tumblr got its act together so I can post it all in one part. You guys know where the other chapters are, and if you don’t, they’re at the end of the chapter. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go eat straight Nutella.

Chapter 10

“I’m thinking about getting some gloves.”

He looks over at you as he laces up his skates. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nod, smiling slightly to yourself as you look your hands over, trying to imagine what they would look like. “Like, badass, fingerless gloves.”

He smiles. “Dude, those would look metal as fuck.”

“Totally, right?” Your smile widens. “With studs and shit.”

He gets to his feet, hopping onto the ice. “Hell yeah.” He drops a puck to assault as you go back to your backed-up coursework the best you can—your handwriting has gone to hell, but you are working with what you have.

You flinch at the crack of his stick, the cross of the T ending up underneath the letter somehow. A cheer from Casey tells you the rubber cylinder’s fate.

‘I swear I learned this.' You squint at the basic algebra, the pencil, crudely held in your fist, hovering over the packet. ‘Why can’t I do this?’

“How’s your pile coming along?” Another crack.

“It’s comin’.” You run your fingers through your hair. “Just… trynna remember how to do ne—… subtraction.” ‘Not debate. Negating is debate.’

He laughs. Another crack. “Man, that thing really fucked you over, huh?”

“Thoroughly.” You decide against continuing to torture yourself, having been at it for the past five hours—most of it in the library before Casey invited you to watch him practice some more— and set the large stack of homework back in your bag. “Are you actually making the shots?”

“Casey Jones doesn’t miss shots.” Another crack.

“Pardon me, oh almighty king of the ice.” You stand on your good leg, grabbing the side of the wall to watch as he went back to collect his pucks.

You two have managed to bond over a mutual respect/love of heavy metal and hockey and, seeing as you are staying out of the Hamatos’ hair for a while—not upon request, but out of courtesy—you have managed to spend a lot more time with him than you may have otherwise. Your school has not assigned Biology any big projects yet, so, until you are assigned it, you do not have anything other than your health to stress about.

“Pardon accepted.” You watch his form as he performs another slap shot.

“You…” you trail off, trying to remember what you were going to say.

“What?”

You shrug. “Dunno.” You lean your head on your arms. “I’ll remember eventually.”

He drops the second puck. “Got any plans after this?”

You sigh. “Nope. Probably gonna head home and try not to cut my fingers making dinner again.”

He takes another shot. “Then let’s go out after this. You and me.”

You smile. “What, don’t have any plans either?”

“Nah.” He drops the third. “Dad doesn’t care if I’m home late anyway.”

“True, true.” You have decided against prying into his home life; it is not your place and does not concern you in the slightest. “Where do you wanna go?”

“Wanna catch a movie? Heard there was this new pizza place just a couple blocks down if you wanna try to sneak it in.”

You snicker. “In the box and all?”

“Yes.” He grins mischievously and hits this one off the walls. Some way, somehow, it still makes it into the goal. “I bet your sweatshirt is big enough to stick the box under.”

You stick your tongue out at him. “Not in the mood for burns on top of scars, Jones,” you reprimand him teasingly. “That just ain't it.”

“Then you can wear mine under that one and—”

“Your sweat-soaked hoodie you’ve been practicing in all day?” You cringe at the thought. “Over my dead body.”

“I mean…” he licks his teeth, smile widening, “it’s not exactly like you’re in the best—”

You laugh. “So not cool!”

He puts his hands up in defense, gliding over. “I mean, am I wrong, though?”

“That is completely besides the point, you ass.” You balance on your foot, crossing your arms. “Damn. Making fun of the girl with the broken leg.”

He leans against the wall. “Man, you were dying before the crash.”

You roll your eyes. “Alright, whatever, Jones.” You lean against your hand. “How’s Johanna,” you sing.

He presses his hand against your face, pushing you away. “Annie is doing fine.”

You grin, steadying yourself on the wall. “Do you feel her, Johanna?”

“I’m gonna tell her you call her that if you don’t quit it.”

“Do you think that walls can hide her? Even when you’re at her window?”

He pushed his arm all the way out. You hop back.

“Her name isn’t even Johanna.”

“But she is Johanna,” you whine in protest, not bothering to hide your mirth. “She has the hair, the voice, the disposition. She’s an ingénue and you know it.” You have been teasing him about this for a while now: the girl in question—Annabelle Halshaw, a year below you two—had caught his eye when he had heard through the grapevine that she was the lead singer in some indie band. When he had shown you a picture and told you the story, you insisted on calling her Johanna for her golden hair and soft, sweet singing voice he had proudly had you listen to.

“She’s not.”

You roll your eyes, sitting back down as you grab your bag. “Lie to yourself all you want,” you goad, “but deep down, you know in your heart that the truth,” you put a finger up, “is apparent.”

He hops off the ice, sitting next to you as he unlaces his skates. “Whatever.” He smirks. “How’s The Don?”

You avert your gaze. “I haven’t seen ‘im.”

“Boo.” He tied the laces together. “Some girlfriend you are,” he ribs.

You go red. “Not my boyfriend. Not even friends with benefits.”

“Yeah, sure.” He sets the skates into his bag. “That’s why you already know his family.”

“That—”

“And why you’ve had him over to your place.”

“If you don’t cool your tits, I’m telling Lucy you’re crushing on her friend.”

“Don’t you dare!”

“What,” you simper, “think I won’t?”

He grabs his bag. “If you do, I’ll show her that video.”

You laugh, following him out of the rink. “You’re the worst.” You note how strange it is that he spent so little time on the ice as you two walk out, but you do not say anything about it.

“Hey, you’re the one throwing threats around.”

“Yeah,” you argue, “but my threat is clearly better.”

He rolls his eyes, pushing you again.

You two keep chatting on the way to the theatre about anything and everything, from new bands to upcoming games to the newest blockbuster horror movies. You are not personally on the hockey team, but, as his friend, it is your duty to care. Besides, you figure, it gives you something to look forward to.

The movie is fine. You convince him against sneaking an entire pizza in, you split a bucket of popcorn, and you give him shit for getting freaked out by the disembowelment scene. It is payback for him teasing you about crying during the last movie you two went to a couple of days ago.

You two stand at the streetlight.

“Dude, it’s like eight,” he groans. “It’s not even late.”

“True,” you agree. “Counterpoint: I still have another week’s worth of work to do by Friday on top of the homework I’ll have to do anyway, so unless you wanna help—”

“Forget I asked.” He pulls his hood up against the autumn wind. “Need me to walk you back?”

“Nah.” You shrug. “If someone mugs me, they’ll give me an excuse to not do my homework.”

“Murdered?

“I’m already halfway there.”

He grins. “See ya tomorrow, Y/N.”

“See ya, Jones.” You wave as he runs off.

The walk home is quiet and considerably easier than it was a couple of weeks ago. Seeing as you now get queasy whenever you get into a car, you have been limited to taking the subway and walking, which, among other things, has contributed positively to your physical strength. You know that you should probably at least try to take the bus or a cab around town to build your tolerance up, but the last time you tried, you had almost tripped and fallen from how shaky your legs were getting out. Oddly enough, you note as you go through the door, you do not have a considerably larger fear of heights than you did before, or of fire, but cars were tripping you up, even though you were the one that crashed it. You feel thankful that, at least, you do not think your fear is crippling. At least, you reason, you can still get into the car.

You lock the door behind you, debating whether you feel like adding to the collection of cuts you now possess— they are self-inflicted, but not intentionally so; you stubbornly refuse to acknowledge the fact that you physically cannot use your hands to cut things. You decide against it tonight, tossing your bag on the bed as you sprawl across it, admittedly exhausted. You allow yourself a couple of seconds with your eyes closed before you pull yourself up with a groan and get back to work.

A part of you wishes that you had the physical energy to stay out longer. You are always trying to find excuses not to sleep, and although the mountain of homework and readjusting your timelines for things you missed is certainly one way to keep yourself preoccupied, it is not exactly what you would consider fun. Then again, reliving your greatest traumas while you sleep is not exactly fun either.

You catch yourself peeling at the newly applied bandages on your fingers, fingernails catching under the crudely applied adhesives. Applying bandages properly requires more dexterity and patience than you currently possess, and you are hardly going to ask someone else for help with something as stupid as that. You have lasted this long without needing too much help. People can live by themselves. You will live, probably. Well? Not your concern.

‘I should eat something.’ Your eyes strain to focus on the piece of paper in front of you, your mind wandering aimlessly as you try to impress the actual importance of finishing this upon yourself, but you find that is an insurmountable feat.

You drop your bag off the side of the bed, reaching down and pulling your shoe off, leaning back into your pillows, the weight of the day practically immobilizing you. Fumbling hands switch the lamp off, bathing your room in momentary, blissful darkness before the gravity of your decision sets in.

“Alright, me,” you breathe to yourself. “What’s it gonna be today? My folks? Bradford? What’s his face? Hell,” you chuckle, “why not all three? I’m sadistic enough, I’m sure.”

You close your eyes. “Give me your worse,” you challenge as you slip into unconsciousness.

--

Two weeks.

He had kept his distance for about two weeks. It was not as if he did not care or was not morbidly curious what the crash had done to you—his glances through the curtains did not tell him much-- but, after some debate, he had figured you needed time to recuperate before you would want his company. Two weeks, he figured, would be enough time for you to get back on your feet or, at least, for you to start wanting company.

His excuse to see you had come in the form of his brother’s newfound prideful boasting. Feigning insult was as good an excuse as any to go see you; after all, he just so happened to be in the neighborhood anyway, and it was normal to pop in to see someone if you were already just a couple blocks down, right? Sneaking away was easy enough—they would not mind his absence—and he, after much prep work, knew exactly how and why he was going to say the things he would to get in your good favor. The plan, he knows, would have gone swimmingly.

His plans seem asinine when he hears you crying.

His brothers do not cry much. He does not, either; it was a habit that they had all thoroughly bullied themselves out of when they were much younger and, if they still did, he knew nothing of it. His master did not encourage this, per se, but talked, then, frequently about the importance of maintaining a more stoic disposition and not allowing emotions to cripple you in battle. Practically, Donatello was satisfied with that explanation, having not properly cried for more than a year now. To hear the sound again, especially coming from you, was novel.

Novel, too, is how you are crying. The sound is less of actual sobbing and more of you being strangled, quiet gasps for air escaping your lips as you shake on the bed, curled in on yourself and clutching at your chest as if whatever pain you are experiencing is centered and can be relieved by something between your collarbones. His eyes, for the first time, trace the lines on your skin, your sleeves riding up your arms to reveal them to him, tears racing down and along the gash in your face. Everything about the scene, from the soft gasping of panic to your position to the heavy scarring, is completely foreign to him, rivaled only by one or two particularly hard nights when he and his brother were much younger.

He slides in through the window, leaning onto the bed. His fingers flick your lamp back on as he grabs your shivering shoulder tightly, shaking you awake as he mumbles words of encouragement. He is not sure if his help will be appreciated, if snapping you out of it was even what he is supposed to do in this situation, but now is not the time to think of that. You are in pain. He can offer you this kindness. “Wake up,” he pleads, not thinking of how this would look until your eyes snap open to look at him.

Immediately, the reality of the situation sets in, and he scrambles off the bed. ‘Why did I think that would be a good idea?’ Panic. ‘You just walked into her room like a fucking creep. See, now she’s going to—’

“Sorry.”

He blinks, looking up at you from his place on the floor. “Huh?”

You clear your throat, wiping the tears from your eye with your sleeve quickly as you bring your knees to your chest, voice hoarse. “Sorry,” you repeat. “That you… I’m not sure what I’m apologizing for, but I know I should be apologizing.”

He is completely dumbfounded.

Your eyes glance to the open window. “I should probably start closing and locking my window, right?” You rub the back of your neck, voice clearing the longer you talk. “It didn’t occur to me since I’m so high up, but if you guys can get in, The Foot can too, right?”

‘Why is she apologizing?’

You push the hair out of your face. ‘You need something, right? I—uh—need to stop saying ‘right’ so much.” You shake your head to clear it. “’ Sup?”

He hears himself mumble some bullshit out about being in the neighborhood.

You sigh. “Sorry.” You close your eyes. “I’m usually up later; I’ve been so tired lately.”

‘Is she serious right now?’ He is completely lost. ‘She was just crying her eyes out in her sleep and now she’s apologizing? Did I miss something?’ You are smiling now, eyes still bloodshot, as if the whole thing is a figment of his imagination, still shivering where you sit.

He rises to his feet, kneeling in front of you on the bed. “What was it about?”

You blink, seemingly confused. “Huh?”

“Your nightmare,” he clarifies. “You were crying. What was it about?”

You avert eye contact. “Nothing too crazy,” you shrug. “Just about the crash. Nothing too exciting.” If possible, he thinks the bags under your eyes are worse than the last time you saw him.

He takes your hands loosely, turning them palms up to look, for the first time, at the patchwork quilt that is now your skin. “What happened in it?” He runs his thumb along the lines, keeping his voice low; he remembers how that used to help when Mikey used to have fits when they were younger. Leonardo and Raphael were never good at that; they took better to being more violently snapped out of their moods, but, then again, they never had this kind of breakdown; theirs were always more driven by loathing, self or otherwise.

You pause, still not looking him in the face as your muscles relax. He remembers, vividly, how he had done something similar when you two had first met, how much better, health-wise, you looked. ‘How long has it been since then? Three months? A little less?’

You take a deep breath. “Just… family shit,” you mumble, eyelids drooping as you trace his frame loosely. “Fire.”

Your gaze is piercing as you finally look at him properly. He feels something catch in his throat as you bow your head.

“It’s my fault, you know.” Your voice is so soft, barely a whisper. “That they’re dead, I mean.”

The air is a suffocating blanket that smothers you both.

“I never told you, did I?” Your focus does not shift as it might have a bit ago. It is locked solely and intensely on him, taking in every detail of his expression. “How I died? How they died? Why I died?”

Hesitantly, he shakes his head. He thinks it best to just be quiet and let you talk. He does not think he has ever heard anyone speak in quite the same tones, ever looked at him quite the same way you are.

You take another breath. “I wanted to try my hand at baking.” You force your eyes to stay focused on his. “I was—still am—not good about sleep. I always slept bad, and never at the right times. I used to take pills for it, to try to get myself back on track.”

He sees where this is going.

“I thought I could still stay up as late as I was used to.” You glance to the side, stealing yourself a second before focusing back on the boy in front of you. “I sat down in my room, turned on a movie. I set a timer. I fell asleep.” You swallow, hands shaking in his. “I can’t smell well, either. I must not have smelled the burning.” Your lips curl in a bitter smile. “Sure as fuck felt it, though, when I woke up.”

He lets you finish.

You try to blink the tears out of your eyes. “They were asleep,” Your voice rises ever so slightly. “I fell asleep at two something. I woke up when they started yelling.” You purse your lips, face reddening in shame as your nostrils flair. “They were trying to get someone out of bed when the roof caved in above them. My door got blocked.”

You feel yourself smile.

“So,” you strain not to cry, “that, Donatello, is why I’m here and why I’m dead, and why I really do deserve to burn again.” You laugh. “Hell, my body count is rivaling some serial killers, so that’s… that’s certainly something.”

He lets go of your hands, face blank.

You lean forward, placing your hands on your knees. “I don’t blame you,” You wipe a wayward tear out of your eyes, trying to swallow the frog in your throat. “Fuck, man, I’d think less of me, too, if it were me.” You nod towards the window. “I get it if you want to leave, but I thought you might want to know why—”

He stops you mid-sentence, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you to him.

Your arms lay slack at your sides as you try to process what is happening.

He does not say a word.

You break.

You burry your face into him, tears welling in your eyes as you let out a strangled sob. You hold onto him tightly as you struggle to breathe, body shaking as you wrap your own arms around him the best you can. The sound roars in your ears like thunder, the deafening quiet of the apartment punctuated only by your own cries. He gently holds you there, resting his head on top of yours. Each sound you make sounds as though you are physically being choked by your guilt, and his chest feels as though it is being crushed by an invisible hand as he listens to your pain.

Neither of you knows how long you stay like that.

He considers telling you a story from a long time ago, about some training he and his brothers had back then, but thought better of it; he does not want to upset you any more than you already are, and being in good company with someone like him may not be exactly what you need right now. Granted, he does not know what you do need, but he knows listening to him talk about bashing brains would not help your sensibilities any.

Instead, he stays quiet.

You pull away after a while, wiping your face off again as you mumble out an apology.

“Don’t apologize.” He clears his throat. “It’s good to cry; it releases endorphins.”

You smile at that. “Well,” you giggle tearfully, “if it releases endorphins.”

He smiles back, face flushing. You look good, he thinks, even with your face all red. He knows that, scientifically, there is probably a reason, but he cannot think of it right now.

He stands up. “I’ll get—”

You grab his hand tightly.

He looks back at you.

“Can I ask a favor?”

He blinks. “Of course,” he agrees easily. “Anything.”

You glance off. “Promise not to take it weird?”

He feels his heart rate increase. “Y-yeah,” he nods.

He feels you pull him gently back on the bed. “Can you stay here tonight?”

His eyes widen as they flicker between the mattress and you. “What,” he clarifies breathlessly, “like sleep with you?”

You nod.

“In the same bed?”

You hesitate, nod again.

He clears his throat, face heating again. “Like, actually?”

“If it wasn’t actually, I wouldn’t ask, would I?” You grip his hand tightly. “I just really don’t want to be alone tonight.”

‘Oh.’ He mentally kicks himself. ‘She’s scared. Don’t make her uncomfortable.’

“It’s alright if you don’t—”

He is extremely quick to reassure you that he is more than happy—‘Bad choice of wording.’—to stay tonight until you fall asleep, but that he would not stay the whole night as to not worry his brothers.

You nod in agreement. “That’s fine.” You rub the back of your neck. “Not sure I would be good company when I wake up, anyway; I still have class.”

“Oh, right.” He nods in understanding, pushing himself further onto the bed. “Which side…?”

You shrug. “Which way do you face?”

“I usually lie on my stomach.”

“Then it doesn’t matter.” You slide your sweatshirt over your head after a bit of squirming around, tossing it onto the couch.

His face is now scarlet. “Okay then,” he mumbles, laying down on the side away from the window. ‘Is she going to—no, stop that.’

You look over at him, face down on the mattress. You can almost feel the heat coming off him. “Are you alright there, buddy?”

He nods.

You shrug, laying down under the blanket and curling into him, facing the window. “Mind getting the light?”

He reaches over, clicking it off.

You sigh in content, turning to face him, teetering on the edge of the mattress. “I’m not venomous,” you inform him teasingly. “I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again: of the two of us, you should not be the one who’s a nervous wreck.”

“You dunno that.” His voice is muffled by the bed.

“You’re the strong one,” you argue.

“So?” He turns his head to look at you. “I’m the guy laying in the—I’m just gonna stop that sentence.”

“It’s only bad if it isn’t consensual.” You smile reassuringly. “I invited you to lay with me, right? So, unless I make you uneasy, then we’re all good.”

He breaks eye contact. “So,” he clarifies, “you don’t mind if I move closer to you?”

You shake your head.

He hesitantly slides himself further onto the bed. “Can I move closer than this?”

“You’ve already seen me bawl my eyes out. You’re doing me a service. Move as close or as far as you want.”

He moves to press his side against you. “Is this fine?”

You nod. “Look, how about this?” You rest your arm under your head. “If you do something I’m uncomfortable with, the safe word is pina colada.”

‘We already have a safe word?’ He was not sure if he is on cloud nine or just terrified of you.

You are very confused why he looks so warm. “Do you need me to turn the AC on?”

He shakes his head. “I’m good,” he assures you tightly. Slowly, he reached an arm out and over your waist, pulling you closer. You do not seem to resist in any way, wrapping your good leg around one of his to pull him closer.

‘Conscious touching.’ He glances down at you, trying to act cool. ‘Conscious, intentional touching. She smells so nice and she feels—okay, this is not going to work if you keep being a perv.’

“Thanks,” you mumble, humming softly. “I appreciate this more than you know.”

Cloud nine. Definitely on cloud nine.

“Every time.”

You giggle.

He blinks. “What?”

“Every time,” you note, already nodding off. “Like in that book.”

‘Which one?’ “They wrote it down for a reason, right?” The longer he spends like this, the smoother he feels.

“Totally.” You smile, closing your eyes. “Just know that this goes both ways, alright? If you ever need help like this, you know who to call.”

This is new. ‘Help like this? What, like crying?’ His eyebrows furrow as he tries to understand what you mean. ‘Or he means if I ever need company in my—what did I just say?’

You pick up on his confusion. “Emotional help, I mean.” Your fingers trace the indentations in his shell absentmindedly. “I mean, I know sometimes I didn’t want to go to my family about stuff. I dunno if you have that…” you trail off, realizing that you might be unintentionally bashing his brothers. You sincerely do not want to blow this.

“I mean,” he says after a bit, “I think I get what you’re talking about.” He sighs. “You mean stuff that they’d make fun of me for, right?”

You nod.

He feels his heart melt a little. “I’ll have to take you up on that.”

You forgot how safe he makes you feel. “Goodnight, Donnie,” you mumble sleepily.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

You pass out not long after that. If he has to estimate a general amount of time, he will clock it in at about five minutes. He does not move, however, until about thirty minutes before sunrise, too busy listening to the sound of your breathing and memorizing how exactly your body feels next to his. As he slips out of the window, early morning air waking him back up completely, he wonders if, someday, he could stay to see you wake up next to him. Not out of necessity, but just because you both wanted to stay like that for a while more.

‘I hope so. It’s a nice dream to have, anyhow.’

Table of Contents

Chapter 9

Chapter 11

[kamyru]

Hey there can you write hc on Ayumu getting angry on mc because of work frustration. I hope I am not bothering you so please write 😊

Hi, anon! ‘Her love in the force’ angst? Angst and ‘Her love in the force’ are two things I simply adore. Thank you for sending this request. Hope I won’t break your heart. Also, sorry for not writing headcanons, but I thought that a scenario would be better. Enjoy! ❤️

P.S. This thing sat in my drafts for more than two months. Little by little, the rest of my requests will be answered. Sorry for making you all wait for so long. 

Ayumu gets angry at MC because of work frustration

Word counting: 1694

MC was singing while cooking. After a month of living together, she finally finished putting everything in the right places and relax after coming home. Of course, Ayumu was helping with what he could but taking into consideration his workload in the last month, she was the one to do the most of it.

When he finally arrived, she was nearly asleep on the sofa. Getting up in that instant, she kissed him and asked if he wanted to eat something. He didn’t even answer her before entering the bathroom.

With a big smile on her face, MC was making some tea for him. Though, it wasn’t needed. After spending an unbelievable amount of time in the bathroom, he got in the bed and closed his eyes. MC knew that he wasn’t asleep. She could tell from how he was breathing when he was sleeping and when not. Now he was, most probably, thinking about the case he was working on. Knowing better than to disturb him, she crawled into bed next to him. With a gentle movement, he pulled her towards him and kissed her hair.

Having her around him was soothing. Maybe he couldn’t talk about his cases, but her presence was helping him a lot. He made a mental note to not forget the idea that just arose in his mind and fell asleep.

When he woke up, MC was already gone. He slept so hard that he didn’t hear her leave. The still-hot tea on the table showed that she left recently. When he arrived at the office, she was already on a case with Tsugaru. The entire day they didn’t see each other. Though, none of them had enough time to think about this. Or not... He got distracted for less than ten minutes but in that time, she was able to put some sweets and a bottle of peach juice on his table. He knew that she brought it from where she went with Tsugaru, taking into consideration that the sweets could be found only in that part of the city.

That night, thanks to her, he was able to relax. She was his inspiration, his savior, his girl. Though, it wasn’t a night as calm as the previous one. He heard her talking on the phone with someone. It was the middle of the night. Not the best time to get disturbed from your precious sleep. He wanted to say something, to make her stop the call, but heard Tsugaru’s voice from the other end of the phone. Changing his position, he let her talk, hoping that soon she was going to finish. He didn’t hear the end, though, falling asleep in the meantime.

The next day, he was woken up by the noise that was coming from the kitchen. Rubbing his eyes, he entered the room and saw his lover finishing the breakfast and ready to go. She kissed him goodbye and left. Shinonome looked at the clock and decided to start working while eating. He still had enough time to get to the office but had a lot of ideas that could help him solve the case.

He heard his phone vibrating but ignored it. Only after he arrived in the office decided to see what was the matter. His lovely girlfriend asked him to bring her the jacket she forgot at home. For a moment he stopped what he was doing. Looking through the window, he understood why she asked that. It was a cold autumn day. Without thinking for another second, he went to find her. Though, Momose told him that she was already gone. Till the end of the day, he received another message from her. That time she was asking him to go to the market on his way home. She was going to be too late to go herself. This time he read the message but got too caught up in his work to remember to do this.

When he arrived home, no one was there. He got so easily used to be met by her that it was hard to adapt to even a short period of loneliness. He looked in the fridge to find out what could be prepared from the ingredients they had. However, he was met by nothing. The fridge was empty. That was when he remembered that he had to go to buy something.

“You forgot, didn’t you?” asked MC who just returned home.

Ayumu mumbled an incoherent response, and she chuckled. She kissed him lovingly before entering the bathroom. He ordered some food for both of them and started to work. It took him more than an hour to understand that his fiancee didn’t return yet.

Knocking on the bathroom door, he asked if everything was alright. Being woken up so suddenly, MC hit her head on the wall while trying to get up. In less than five minutes she was already outside.

“You were sleeping, weren’t you?”

MC smiled awkwardly. She was too tired to react somehow. Without eating, she slipped into their shared bed, falling asleep immediately. Ayumu remained a little bit longer to work, trying to find the missing piece of the puzzle. He was starting to lose his patience. Every time they thought that they are on the correct path, something came up and they had to start again. He hit the wall with his fist in frustration. 

The next minute, on the door frame, appeared MC. She didn’t say anything, just hugged him tightly. Feeling how his muscles relaxed, she asked him to get some sleep and to think about everything the next day. He listened to her plea and in half an hour joined her in the bedroom.

The next day, Ayumu and MC finally woke up at the same time and went to work together. Though, they didn’t have enough time to see each other during the day, being too busy with the cases their teams were working on.

The moment MC entered the apartment, she saw things flying in the air and everything not in the places she left them. For a second she thought that a burglar broke in, though her eyes fell on Ayumu’s shoes and understood that he was the one responsible for the mess.

“Are you looking for anything? I can...”

“I thought you know better than to touch my things. I told you I’ll put everything in its place after I finish with the case I’m working on right now. No, you simply had to be your kind and helpful idiot self.”

MC looked at him surprised. The headache that was torturing her for a week now, due to over-work and lack of sleep, wasn’t letting her think straight.

“What are you looking for?” was everything she could say at the moment.

“Shut up and go away. You already did what you could, by touching the things that you weren’t supposed to touch.”

“Ayumu!” she tried to get his attention and gave him the last chance to resolve everything peacefully.

He hissed and ignored her, taking out everything that was in the last drawer he had to look into.

“Lieutenant Shinonome!”

This time, the man stopped and turned towards his fiancee. He didn’t expect her to address him in this way and that was when he understood what was going to happen.

“I’m sorry that this time I didn’t meet your expectations and made a mistake. But have you ever thought about meeting my expectations? We are living together for more than a month now. How do you think that this house would have looked if I didn’t put everything in its place? I have work too. I am exhausted too. Do you really think that the only reason we are not seeing each other in the office is that you’re the only one who has no time?”

Ayumu gulped. Everything she was saying was right. The entire month MC was waking up early, coming home late, going with Tsugaru for investigation. Still, she never complained or said a bad word towards him.

The moment he was ready to apologize, her phone rang. She went away in a hurry. He was sure that it was something regarding her work. He was left alone in the middle of the mess he just made. Slowly, he stood up and put some things away, trying to make everything look a little bit more presentable.

His eyes fell on his desk. That was when he remembered that the notebook he was looking for was on his desk at work. He needed it the last week and got so tormented by everything, that he forgot about this.

Ayumu looked at the clock and then at the things that were everywhere. Gulping, he took his keys and went back to work, apologizing to MC in his mind and promising that he would put everything back when he came home.

The thing for what he needed his notebook helped the case to approach its end. It was past midnight when he came back home. He wanted to be happy that the work was getting easier for the next few days, though the fact that he fought with his girl was bothering him too much to let him enjoy the feeling.

When he opened the door, he saw MC in the middle of the mess, trying to put everything in its place. She didn’t hear him coming. So, when he hugged her from behind and buried his face in her shoulder, she jerked.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

She didn’t know what to say. She felt the urge to apologize for everything too, but he put a finger on her lips.

“Go to sleep. I’ll finish this.”

MC didn’t move an inch. She continued to clear the house. Ayumu sat near her and started to do what she was doing.

“I love you,” finally said MC in a whisper.

He didn’t answer, though MC could see his red ears. Ayumu kissed her on the forehead and hugged her tightly. Even after so much time they spent together, his heart was going crazy every time she was saying words of love.

[emilycollins00]

Hey, if you want to (you don‘t have to through) could you maybe write a Muku x Reader, in which Muku‘s crush writes him a anonymous love letter but he recognizes his crush’s handwriting? But if you don’t to write it for Muku, than it can be somebody else! Like idk... Juza or Sakuya (that would have been cute too). Everybody’s just great🥺❤️ Have a great day!~ (*´꒳`*)🌸

Sorry for the delay, love. You are the sweetest thing! I don’t really mind if reader is the same age, also crushes are the cutest thing so... Muku it is! 💕

Hope you enjoy!

Title: Love letter

Pairing: Muku Sakisaka x reader

“I don’t know Yuki-kun, I’m sure Sakyo-san also wants the play to be a success. Why would he try to make it difficult?”

With school hours finally ended for the day, both middle schoolers talked as they prepared to go back to the dorm.

Yuki clicked his tongue “If he wanted the performance to be good he should at least be more lenient with the budget” he mused opening his locker, already making a mental list of the materials he would have to buy to make up for the cut he had been informed in the morning “That money grabbing yakuza… he could at least think how much work is to piece everything together”

“I-I’m sure you’ll do an amazing job! We’ll all make sure to help if it gets too much!”

“Of course I was already counting on it. I haven’t been training you all for nothing”

Muku laughed nervously at his retort.

“Muku-kun!”

His heart made a leap at the unexpected sound of your voice. Turning around, he found you running in his direction from the crowded hall.

“Y/N-san?”

Once you managed to catch up you held a hand up, asking silently for a few seconds to regain breath. Finally you lifted your head, cheeks slightly flushed from the sprint “Sorry, I wanted to give back the volume you let me before you left!”

“Ah, you shouldn’t have had to bother coming all the way!” Muku stuttered, taking the manga from your hands and holding it against his chest. He glanced at you hopeful “Um... What did you think about it?”

You clapped your hands, beaming “Oh, I couldn’t put it down! The main character was so sweet it made me want to cheer for them so much!”

Muku felt his previous tension being released. He had been the one who had recommended it after all. He smiled happily “I thought so too! T-the way the festival had…”

As always happened when he talked to you lately, Muku hoped he wasn’t blushing too much or sounded too weird. It had been a few months since you both started exchanging romance novels due to mutual interest and the more you got to know each other, the more Muku noticed he had developed quite the crush on you.

“I see you guys are leaving already. Practice?”

Muku played with the string of his schoolbag, self-consciously “W-well, spring troupe is next so we usually make street acts for the time being until Tsuzuru-san writes ours- ah, he’s the person I told you that writes such wonderful stories!”

“Oh! I hope summer comes soon then” you chuckled, making Muku’s stomach stir “I have to go now too, see you both tomorrow!” .

Once you were out of sight, Yuki glanced at the former athlete sighing with a hand placed in his chest and rolled his eyes “Why don’t you just invite them somewhere? I doubt they’d say no”

“Uh?”

“Y/N” his pointed the way you had left with his chin “You are painfully obvious, you know”

Muku waved his arms neglectingly, flushing “I-I can’t! If only I had the charismatic aura of Itaru-san or the elegance of Citron-sama b-but I don’t have any of those qualities and...!

“I keep telling you those two are the worst examples you should be trying to learn from”

He kept shaking his head stubbornly. You had become someone he truly admired for always doing their best. Your approach and attitude were so nice, so warm...  The thought of dating was too much! “A-anyway, shouldn’t we hurry to get to the dorm?”

Yuki squinted his eyes, but opted to shrug it off “Sure, I need to change before going to that thrift shop by Veludo Station. Last time the worker there showed me some…”

Muku relaxed inwardly, seeing Yuki was already on work mode. As he opened the locker to change his shoes though, something white fell from inside. He crouched down to the floor to retrieve it “A letter?”

He turned it, but saw no sign anywhere, which made him tilt his head confused. Why was a letter inside…?

Something clicked in his head as he stood up, blue eyes staring at the white envelope.

It couldn’t be real. He must be daydreaming.

“Maybe I could even- Muku?”

Oh god, what if he had been transported to one of his mangas? What if he now had to overcome the plot of the story to be able to get back and…?

“Hey! Earth to Muku, geez!”

Snapping out of it, he finally focused on the annoyed green-haired in front of him “Yuki-kun…? Have you also been transported into the manga world?”

“What are you talking about” the young designer sighed, crossing his arms over his chest when he noticed the envelope “Was that inside your locker?”

“You can see it too?!”

“Of course I can idiot. You didn’t have that before”

Muku nodded to himself blinking at the letter. So he wasn’t imagining it…

“Well, aren’t you going to open it?” Yuki leaned his back on the lockers, bending curiously.

“Yuki-kun”

“Mhm”

“I-I can’t”

                                           -.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

“Mucchan received a WHAT?!”

“Could you say it any louder, you idiotic dog? It’s just a letter, who cares”

“Mukkun, I’m shook!” as Taichi kept crying about wanting to find love too, Kazunari jumped in completely elated “Isn’t this like the highlight of your school life mangas in real life? You def have to open it!”

Taichi’s reactions and Kazunari’s comments didn’t reach Muku, still zoning in and out of the conversation. After a long banter in school, he hadn’t had the guts to open the letter, so Yuki decided for him to take it home and give him time to process the situation.

Which is the reason he was now sitting on the couch in the middle of the lounge, surrounded.

It was true he had often dreamed of love letters. Who wouldn’t? They were so romantic! To receive a handwritten confession maybe even in poetry professing an undying love, rushing off to a midnight rendezvous with one’s true love… the mere thought made Muku swoon.

But one thing was his imagination, and another one real life, as much as he sometimes mixed both.

To think something like that actually happened to him didn’t feel real.

“I…I already told Yuki-kun this must be a mistake” he murmured fidgeting, not able to take his eyes off the yet-to-be-open envelope on the table “Who would want to write to someone who is a half-pint, small, dried-up stale beansprout like me?”

“You sure s’not a letter for a challenge, right” Juza grumbled from the other couch, throwing daggers to the letter.

“J-juza-san?!”

“Why am I not surprised that’s your first thought, Standard Gangster”

Muku lifted his head gasping with eyes wide open, scared “I-I hadn’t even think about that! What if I did something and now they are looking for revenge and…!”

“S’okay, Muku” Juza stopped him, cracking his knuckles “I’ll take care of ‘em if that’s the case”

“Whoa, whoa, hold on, dude!” Kazunari laughed nervously, placing a hand his shoulder to calm him down “Before we decide it’s something like that, how about opening it?”

“Mr. Extrovert is right for once” Yuki rested his chin on the back on his hand “You are taking too long”

As everyone watched expectantly, Muku glanced at the letter once more, swallowing with difficulty. Even just looking at it made his heartbeat go wild. He shook his head, took a deep breath, and carefully tore the edges apart.

The first thought that came to his mind was the fact that the colour of the paper was the same as his hair.

Then, the fact that his whole face was probably heating up after he read his name.

“Mucchan?”

“Just tell me who I have to beat up”

The summer troupe member lifted his head flustered, forgetting where he was “S-sorry I- it’s okay, Ju-chan! um, it’s not that type of letter!”

As he kept reading the content, Muku felt his heart ringing in his ears as well as the heat reaching and warming his cheeks. The message of the letter was definitely a confession worthy of a manga and the way he was being described… nothing could compare to what he was feeling at that moment, eyes fixed on the letter, practically glowing.

By the second read though, he noticed something weird. A somewhat familiar feeling, as if he had read this before.

He read it again. What was it?

“Let me see, let me see!” Kazunari soon moved to his side, reading with him and whistling “Mukkun whoever this is you have to find them, this is totes cute!”

He didn’t answer, still in deep thought. This handwriting… where had he…?

You.

A flashback of him looking at your notes in class and thinking how beautiful your handwriting looked crossed his mind. Muku covered his mouth from the sudden revelation.

“Muku!?”

“You okay, Mukkun?”

If he was blushing before, his face must now be a downright crimson mess.

Could it be a joke? Or was he daydreaming again? B-but that WAS your handwriting. He had caught himself so many times staring that it.

He checked once more afraid. No, it definitely was yours.

“B-but Y/N-san, they…”

“Y/N?” the surprise on Yuki’s face when he heard your name was palpable. He grabbed the letter, smiling at the end “Well, aren’t you lucky Wonder Boy”

“Who’s Y/N?”

“Ah, Muku’s crush”

“WAIT- MUKKUN’S!?”

“MUCCHAN’S?!”

“Muku, you…”

“W-wait, what if they did this as a way to test my acting? O-or to try to recreate a scene for a new manga?” his mind kept rejecting the idea “They said they wanted to see our performance, what if tomorrow they keep asking me what happened today and I can’t act naturally and then they think I was spying on them only to be told that-!

“Muku, please” Yuki rolled his eyes “As if someone like them would do this as a prank”

The young actor looked around everyone in the room insecure and then again at your letter, taking it with both hands carefully “It’s just… I’m just me” he finally whispered.

Kazunari chuckled softly, ruffling his hair.

“Well, that’s plenty for us, you know it! And judging by the letter it’s the same for them”

                                           -.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Next day Muku paced around the entrance of the school, waiting for you. No matter how many mangas he had read, nothing had given him the answer for how to act. 

Was this how the heroines felt? His lower body was barely being able to sustain him.

“Muku-kun, you called for me?”

Okay, stay calm Muku. Y-you got this! He forced himself not to let his nerves show as you walked up “Y-yeah! Um, do you have a moment to talk?”

“Sure?” you tilted your head curiously.

He had to avert his gaze “t-The thing is, um; yesterday this was on my locker…” Muku took out the letter from his pocket, praying for a reaction.

You stared at it dumbfounded, and for the first time, Muku saw your cheeks growing slightly red. He kept talking “I… I somehow recognized your handwriting! S-so I wanted to say that I too-!”

He couldn’t finish as he watched you covering your face, which caused him to frown confused “Y-Y/N-san...?”

“Please hide me” Muku could tell your ears were bright red at this point “Sorry, this is not… it wasn’t…”

You groaned to yourself. You worked so hard to not let it show, appearing even before he saw the letter and your handwriting was what gave it away in the end…? Talk about embarrassment.

“Ugh, I’m so lame”

“It wasn’t lame! Not at all!” Muku’s heart squeezed, talking louder than he had imagined, but he wanted to make his point clear this time. Lame was the last thing that could have crossed his mind when he read it “You are so cool and the letter was beautiful!”

“I-It was…?”

He nodded although you couldn’t see him “Y/N-san” you felt his hands holding yours, taking them away from your face. Once you couldn’t hide anymore you looked up, a blushing Muku welcoming you with a warm smile.

“If you are okay with me, would... would you like to meet up sometime?”

He really looked like a prince.

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Wishing you all a wonderful day! 💕