#okay enough babbling ill do my tags now

[real-odark]

HI!!! ARE YOU ABLE TO DRAW RTC TRINITY THEATER FERRIS WHEEL CAST NOEL? THESE ARE THE ONLY PHOTOS I HAV EWITH HIM IN IT 😭 ITS FIE IF NOT :3 HAVE A GOOD DAY/AFTERNOON/NIGHT <333

YOU KNOW I CANN HES SO SILLY I LOVE HIM?

their noel is so cute thank u so much for the request!! i hope u have a good day/night/etc too:3 !!1!1!1

[mybiasisexo]

Entangled - Part 5

Pairing: Chanyeol x f.Reader

Chapter Warning: Language | Alcohol Consumption

Word Count: 5.3k

Author’s Note: Just a heads up... shits hitting the fan yall and its going e v e r y w h e r e 🔥! i feel like the story is going so fast haha. The wildest part is we are still only on day 2 in the story!!! so much happening in 2 days, could you imagine irl🥵? oh girl needs a long rest after this vacation is2g 😴!

Autumn is slowly approaching and I am so glad! I got my pumpkin candles LIT and my sweaters OUT lol 🍁. And who is excited for Minseok's solo??!??? lets goooo 🏃‍♀️!!!! ill enjoy whatever he does, but i am begging! Kim Minseok!! Give us cunt! Give us whips and chains! body rolls!!! I want to be devoured 😩

Enough with the babbling, I am sooo excited and nervous for this chapter. Its one of my favorites, so I hope you enjoy it! As always, reblogs and replies are always appreciated! I LOVE feedback and your thoughts and theories on the plot! Also lmk if youd like to be tagged!! Cheers to seeing our soldier boy soon 🥂! Much love! Have fuuUUUUuUuuuuun~~!

Twenty minutes later, you rush into your suite with three bags full of soju of various flavors.

Yerim sits at the island, head in her hands. You catch her shoulders bouncing slightly, but can only hear the occasional sniff. Seulgi sits beside her, rubbing her back consolingly. Her head turns towards you once she hears you enter, relief evident in her whole body.

Without saying a word, you tear open a bottle and lay out three shot glasses, filling them up to the brim. The sound of the tiny cups hitting the counter catches Yerim’s attention, and she reaches over for a glass with a slightly shaky hand. She gulps the contents down and you pour her another one, which she empties as soon as it’s full again. You take this one with her, but Seulgi only takes a sip of hers before placing it gently back on the table, her focus solely on her sister.

You’re throwing back another shot when Yerim finally speaks.

“I don’t even know why I’m crying like this.” Her voice is nasally, eyes bloodshot, face blotchy. “He had been practically ignoring me since we touched down and it’s not like we were official or anything. I just… I just really liked him.” 

Chanyeol did have that effect on people, you knew all too well.

Yerim sounds so broken, you can’t help but sympathize with her. You find yourself tearing up as well.

“What did he say exactly?” Seulgi asks slowly, as if she’s afraid she’ll trigger her.

Yerim sighs and cradles a bottle to her chest, letting the coldness calm her. “He told me that being here was putting a lot of things into perspective for him, and that he wasn’t ready to be in a relationship with me. I told him that it was okay, that we could go slow, pick this up again once we were back in Seoul, but he told me no. He said…. He said he didn’t want to continue this at all. That he didn’t want to be with me at all and that–that bringing me here with him was a mistake!”

She starts sobbing, and her wails make your shoulders drop. You feel helpless, standing there watching your friend’s heart break. That helplessness makes you restless, makes you overthink. You want to do something, want to protect her. You want to storm right over to the guy who did this and make him suffer for hurting her. But, being that the man at fault is Park Chanyeol–-the same man you can’t seem to be alone with for two minutes without wanting to suck his face off, disrespectfully–you remain still, contemplating your options.

He did mention that he was taking her out to ‘make things right’. Now that you’re thinking about it, you should have seen this coming. He practically told you what he was planning on doing. You can’t help but to think that yeah, Yerim is suffering right now, but it is for the best. Could Chanyeol have gone about it in a better way? Absolutely. But Chanyeol has never really been one with great hindsight. He goes with how he feels, worries about the consequences later. Clearly. 

There is one thing though, that you believe he still has failed to tell Yerim. The true reasoning behind his rash decision. 

You.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you mutter. It’s time Yerim knew the truth. You take another shot of soju for courage, knowing there are a few ways Yerim will take the news, and some of the options are not pleasant. You sit the glass down with slightly more force than intended, startling the sisters, and cutting of Yerim’s cries.

“Yerim.” Your voice is the most serious it has ever been. You lock eyes and hold it, making sure you have her full attention. She holds your stare, albeit with confusion. “I have something to tell you, something I should’ve told you sooner.”

“What is it?” She asks hesitantly. 

“It’s about Loey,” you reveal. “The truth is, well, him and I–”

“Knew each other in college.” Seulgi loudly interrupts.

Her outburst startles you and you blink at her in surprise. She shrugs, curling her palms up and widening her eyes, helplessly. You know her well enough to gather what she’s trying to say. Now is, in fact, not the time.

“You…did?” Yerim asks, pulling your focus back to her.

“Yeah,” you let out in a huff. All the urgency leaves your body and you slump over the counter in defeat. “All of us did. He’s Baekhhyun’s best friend.”

“Why would he lie about that?” She asks, voice small.

“Because he’s an asshole,” Seulgi says. You nod in agreement.

“So, you were all friends in college?”

“Yes.” You supply. “That’s why he’s a groomsman with the rest of them. Chanyeol was pretty close to all of us but… was closer to some more than others.”

Both you and Seulgi squint your eyes and lean closer to the clueless girl, watching to see if she catches your drift.

“Oh.” She simply says. You both lean back with large sighs.

Her eyelids flutter rapidly before she’s going back for more soju. Once she’s got her fill, she’s gazing up at you. “His name is Chanyeol?”

You nod carefully, still trying to gauge her reaction.

She does her iconic deadly scoff and it’s enough reassurance for you. Your Yerim is coming back. “He didn’t even respect me enough to tell me his real name. He didn’t respect me at all. Was anything he told me even true? Is he even a producer?”

“No, he actually does do that,” Seulgi admits with a wince.

“I need another shot,” Yerim says. You don’t hesitate to fulfill her request.  

“The boys should be back soon,” you say, laying your slightly spinning head against the back of the couch. Sehun texted you about fifteen minutes ago, letting you know that they were heading back. The plan is for the boys to come to your suite and drink a bit more before heading to their respective rooms to get some sleep for the big day tomorrow. Luckily, the wedding is going to be around 2pm so that you all can get some rest.

You asked Yerim if she was okay with the boys hanging out at your suite, and she said that as long as Loey–’oh yeah, that’s right, it’s Chanyeol’–wasn’t going to be here, she had no qualms. Plus she likes Sehun.

You don’t think she’s going to make it. She polished off three bottles of soju and is absolutely wrecked at the moment, making you from last night seem sober in comparison.

She’s sprawled out on the couch, head resting on Seulgi’s lap. Seulgi runs her fingers through her hair dotingly. Yerim’s eyes are already closed, breath evening out. You’re about to suggest hauling her off to bed when you hear a bunch of voices outside your room.

“Looks like they’re here!” You cheer, excited to be reunited with your favorite people.

There’s a loud bang and a bunch of people exclaiming. You share a confused look with Seulgi before you’re rushing to the door to further investigate. Seulgi lags behind, having to slip from underneath a snoring Yerim.

What greets you is the furthest thing you expect.

Jongdae and Baekhyun are a door down, struggling to carry a deadweight Chanyeol. His arms slung over their shoulders, feet barely touch the ground as he stumbles towards his room. He’s very obviously drunk, if his loud deep voice echoing through the halls is any indicator.

Jongin and Sehun lean against the wall across from you, quietly watching the shit show in amusement. 

Curious, you venture out into the hall, leaving Seulgi to hold the door. She takes in the scene wearily.

“What’s going on?” You ask in a hushed tone as you greet Sehun. He looks agitated, but as soon as he sees you, he’s standing up straight, fear in his bright eyes.

He hisses your name. “Get back in your room. Hurry before he sees you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t question, just go. Go!” He starts pushing you back to your room, but you’re too confused and defiant to oblige to his request. Instead, you fight back, making it difficult for him to shove you away.

Unfortunately, this draws the attention of the others, and as soon as Chanyeol notices you, you realize what Sehun was trying to prevent.

He wails your name, louder than he had been a second ago.

“Fuck,” Sehun mutters.

“Too late.” Jongin whistles lowley. 

“Mel!” Chanyeol cries. Baekhyun and Jongdae struggle under his shifting weight, scrambling to keep him above them. “I fucked everything up. I should’ve never brought her. Now you hate me for good.”

Now is a good time to take Sehun’s advice and run for the hills, but you can’t feel your legs to make an escape. Your breath hitches at his words and your heart starts beating so hard you can hear it in your ears, nearly drowning out his next words.

“It’s my fault,” he continues. His legs buckle beneath him, giving out and dropping him to his knees. Your heart shatters at how broken he sounds, how defeated he appears with his head bowed in shame. “I didn’t fight for you. I thought that’s what you wanted, so I didn’t. I’m sorry, Mel. You have to believe me, I’m so sorry.”

Each word that leaves his mouth chips at your heart, creating cracks on the wall you have built to hold in the dam of your emotions. Slowly they leak through, causing you to shake, your throat to itch, your eyes to burn–all a telltale sign of tears. You have to clench your teeth together to keep the sob in your throat from spilling out.

“I wish you didn’t hate me,” he continues in a broken whisper. “I wish you never left. That’s why I brought her. Because you left, and I couldn’t…. I couldn’t do it, Mel.”

He looks so small, like a lost child. It makes you want to walk over and drape yourself over him. Makes you want to pull him into you, feel the soothing softness of his hair between your fingers, his hot breath at your neck, and tell him that it’s okay. You can forgive him. You will forgive him.

Taking a shaky breath, you go to do just that. You shift your weight so that you can take that step–

“Who’s yelling?” You stiffen at the voice and catch in your peripheral Yerim squinting beside Seulgi, yawning as she scratches her head, very obviously just waking up. “Who’s Mel?”

That’s enough to shatter the illusion, bring you back to your senses. Fear quickly takes over as you realize the situation you’re now in. You want to tell her to go back inside like Sehun did to you earlier. You want to tell her to not worry, to ignore everything and go back to sleep, but before you can say anything, Chanyeol gets a bout of energy and tears away from the guys holding him.

It’s almost in slow motion, the way Chanyeol comes barreling towards you, hands outstretched for you. You can hear the others’ rejection, but their voices sound muffled, as though you’re underwater. Jongdae and Baekhyun rush to try to catch up to him, but his legs are too long for the shorter men.

Chanyeol’s massive hands cradle your head, tilting it back enough to give him the leverage he needs to press his lips harshly against yours.

He’s kissing you.

The shared contact speeds up time, making everything happen so quickly, you can hardly process anything going on. All you are aware of is a blur of warmth and nostalgia and hurt and regret and pain and love–so much fucking love.

You don’t even have time to close your eyes or succumb to the kiss you’ve been secretly craving all this time. No time to react before Chanyeol is being torn away from you with a loud wet pop.

Jongin has jumped in this time to drag Chanyeol back to his room. He’s fighting the whole way, trying to slip out of their grip, begging them to let him go because he wants to be with you. When he realizes his pleas are falling on deaf ears, he turns his attention back to you, reaching out as he gives you the saddest puppy eyes you think you’ve ever seen.

“Come with me,” he pleads urgently. “I want you to stay with me. Mel, please. Please! Give me another chance. You have to give me another chance!”

You can only watch as Baekhyun opens his door, throwing you an apologetic glance as they all tumble inside.

The silence that follows has your ears ringing, but the sound–or lack thereof–has you remembering yourself. Quickly, you spin around to your door, immediately locking eyes with Yerim. She doesn’t look an ounce as drunk or tired as she had before.

“Why did he just kiss you?” She asks, voice dangerously calm.

“Yerim,” you start, but find you’re at a complete loss for words. Your brain is still trying to possess the last few minutes.

“Why did he just fucking kiss you?!” She finally explodes, face red and shaking from the power of her vocals.

You all wince at her volume and guilt swallows you whole, smarting your eyes. You’re just so overwhelmed, everything’s happening so fast and you have no idea what is going on.

“I–I don’t know–”

“You don’t know?” She asks mockingly. “You don’t know why the man I brought here as my date, who just fucking dumped me, ran up and kissed you as if he wanted to be with you the whole time?”

Her words seem to connect some dots, you can practically see the light bulb spark to life over her head as she straightens up, eyes far away as realization dawns on her.

“Holy shit,” she mutters to herself. “It’s you.”

Her wide knowing eyes take you in. It’s almost cruel, the disgust now coating her face as she acknowledges you. “You’re the one he was talking about. The ex-fiancee. Aren’t you?”

“Yerim, please, just let me explain,” you plead.

That’s enough confirmation for her. She takes a step back, away from you. “So, all of you have been lying to me, not just him? You’ve all been in on it. How hilarious it must have been, watching me fall for a man you all knew loved someone else. You probably got together after dinner last night and shared a laugh over how much of an idiot I am.”

Her voice thickens as she speaks, lips quivering and eyes sparkling in the most devastating way. “I know I’m just Seulgi’s little sister to you all but this…. Isn’t this a bit too far?”

“It’s not like that at all.” Seulgi finally speaks. Yerim turns to her and she flinches at the anger aimed her way.

“And you,” Yerim vilely spits. “You are my sister! You’re supposed to protect me! Why didn’t you say anything?”

Seulgi attempts to answer her question, but is also left speechless, unable to conjure an answer that would appease her sister.

Yerim scans all of you. Jongin and Baekhyun have returned, leaving Jongdae to babysit Chanyeol, and silently watch the fight, trying to catch up on what has transpired so far in their absence. “What is wrong with you people?”

“We didn’t say anything because Chanyeol and I are over,” you reveal in a rush, pushing through the tears coating your esophagus. “Yerim, please, he’s just drunk. The wedding is messing with his head, making him nostalgic. I doubt he’ll even remember any of this. We were wrong to not tell you about our connection sooner, and I’m sorry about that. It just took us all by surprise and we didn’t know how to bring it up.”

She glares at you, but it doesn’t hold as much fire as it had prior, so you continue.

“And your sister wanted to tell you. She was pressuring me the whole time to do it, but it never felt like the right time. God, Yerim, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for this trip to become such a mess.”

Your body is shaking again, and your voice wobbles as you push through that damned lump. God you hate this. Hate that Chanyeol had to go around and kiss you, hate that your connection to him is causing someone you care deeply for to hurt. Hate that despite everything, a part of you is wanting to answer his call and run to his room, to apologize for everything and wrap yourself into his familiar embrace. 

As if one of your friends could tell you need comfort, hands are pulling at you, spinning you around to crush you against a firm chest. The action calms you, allows you to focus on your breathing.

“You should have told me,” Yerim continues coldly. “You’re the reason why he kicked me out of our room, the reason he broke off whatever this was we had. If you had told me I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t have….”

She finally breaks. A sob leaves her body involuntarily, and she covers her mouth in an attempt to hold them in. Seulgi takes a step towards her to comfort her, but she holds up a hand, warding her back as she tries to calm down. 

The urge to cry has passed and you think you can stand on your own. Lifting your head, you see Baekhyun gazing down at you sympathetically, one of his hands rubbing your back soothingly. You give him a small smile as thanks, and he matches it in reply.

“I want to go home.”

The statement makes everyone’s head turn to the little girl breaking down in the doorway.

“What?” Seulgi is the one to ask.

“I said I want to go home. Now.”

“But the wedding….” Sehun starts.

“Who gives a fuck about the wedding!” Yerim shouts. “These are your friends, not mine! You’ve made that perfectly clear! I don’t want to be here anymore! I don’t want to see any of you again!”

“Let’s go inside,” Seulgi offers, voice gentle and calming. “Let’s just sit down and think through everything, okay?”

“Fine,” Yerim huffs before stomping back into the suite, having everyone share a glance before tiptoeing in after her, piling around the living area.

Yerim slouches on the couch, arms crossed defiantly, eyes on the floor, refusing to acknowledge any of you.

Understandable. Hell, you can’t seem to meet anyone’s eyes either as you slide onto the floor, leaning against one of the large windows, far away from the girl, guilt gnawing at you.

“Seulgi,” Yerim starts, everything about her exhausted. “Will you please search flights for tonight?”

“It’s too late,” Seulgi argues. “And you brought such a beautiful dress for the ceremony. How about I find something for later? You can leave after the wedding, before the reception.”

Yerim lets out a long resigned sigh. “Whatever.”

Taking a deep breath, you draw up your legs, resting your chin on your knees. The silence is overwhelming, and you need to fill it. 

“Chanyeol and I met in our first year of college.” Everyone’s head whips over to you, but you don’t notice, eyeing your knees as though you just discovered them. This is not what you thought you were going to say, but now you have to continue. “We met through Baekhyun. That’s how I met pretty much all of them, actually. How I met Seulgi. Sehun was the only one I knew before. Anyways, I’ve dated before but Chanyeol was different. He always was. I knew. From the moment we were introduced, I knew that he was the one. We both did, I think. It didn’t take long for us to start dating, and it was easy to be with him.”

You take a deep breath and try not to get lost in the past. “We were together all four years of college, and it was at the end of our senior year that Chanyeol proposed, right before our graduation.

“That’s when everything started falling apart,” you reveal in a small voice. “There was just so much we were juggling. Finals, graduation, careers, and now planning a wedding. We were fighting a lot, and I started to doubt the strength of our relationship. I also started to doubt myself. A part of me always felt like I was never good enough to be with Chanyeol. That he would grow tired of me, or find someone more beautiful, someone who understood his interests more, who didn’t call him stupid whenever he made a joke. And because of that fear, I just became Chanyeol’s Girlfriend. For four years, I was constantly by his side, trying to be perfect for him, and I lost myself along the way. Once I realized I was planning on doing that forever, I started panicking. The ring around my finger started feeling like a trap, like it was constricting me. I needed to discover myself, find out the things I, as an adult, as a woman,as me, enjoyed. I needed freedom. So… I called off the engagement.”

You hear numerous gasps throughout the room and remember everyone else. Well, it’s about time the others knew anyway. Neither you nor Chanyeol ever revealed the true reason behind your separation. You did it out of selfishness, afraid you’d be labeled a villain and lose everyone over your decision. When it comes to Chanyeol’s silence, well, you don’t know for sure. But, knowing him, he probably did it for the same reason you did. He was always protecting you.

“That was three years ago,” you press on, lifting your gaze to Yerim so that she knows you’re now addressing her. “Yesterday was the first time we’ve spoken or seen each other since. I’ve had zero contact with him. I had no idea he was bringing a date, let alone that it was you, and I doubt he even knew your connection to us. This wasn’t some elaborate plan to hurt you, Yerim. None of us would ever do that to you, especially Chanyeol.”

“He may be an asshole,” Baekhyun speaks for the first time tonight. “But he’s not cruel. If he ended things with you, it was because he didn’t want to lead you on. Knowing him, it was probably an attempt to protect you from himself.”

It’s eerie how Baekhyun’s statement mirrors your thoughts, but it’s truly just a testament of Chanyeol’s character.

He’s not a bad guy. Just a big idiot.

Now that your story has been told, all eyes are on Yerim as she absorbs all this new information. 

“Okay,” she says so quietly you nearly miss it. “Okay. Thank you for telling me.”

You can only nod.

She goes to stand. “I’m going to bed.” She points at you. “I don’t want you here.”

Your shoulders slump for the nth time today, but you understand. Just because you finally confessed your past affair with her ex whatever-he-is doesn’t mean you automatically gain her forgiveness.

“She can stay with me,” Sehun says.

“And you.” She turns her attention to her sister. “You can stay in her room.”

Seulgi deeply frowns, but nods nonetheless, aware of the role she played in all of this.

“Night. See you all at the wedding, I guess.” Yerim shuffles out of sight, softly closing the door behind her.

“We should get going also,” you say. “Big day tomorrow.”

You head over to your room, changing into some pajamas and grabbing your purse and phone charger, the essentials. 

When you’re back in the living area, the boys are all hovering by the door, waiting for you, while Seulgi slumps on the couch. Her legs spread wide, arms limp at her side, and head tilted over the back of the couch, staring blankly at the ceiling.

You call her name and she turns her head down to gaze blankly at you. “I’m sorry. I know, I should’ve done this yesterday.”

She waves off your apology. “You were going to tell her earlier and I stopped you. It’s my fault just as much as yours. See you tomorrow.”

You all give your farewells and exit the stuffy room. You take the few steps to Sehun’s, he opens the door and you’re slightly surprised when the other boys trail in after you.

You crowd around Sehun’s island.

“So….” Baekhyun purses his lips as he fixes you with a knowing look. “The mystery is finally solved.”

“Do you hate me now?” You ask quietly. You trace random patterns into the cool marble face of the counter. 

“Why would we hate you?” 

“For not telling you. For being the one to break Chanyeol’s heart. He was your friend before I was, I understand if you want to be on his side now.”

“Hey now,” Jongin starts gently, rubbing your arm. “We have always respected your relationship. It’s none of our business why you ended, which is why none of us asked. I mean, of course we were all devastated, and have told both of you as much, but at the end of the day, we aren’t the ones dating. I’m just glad cheating wasn’t involved. That’s what I have always thought happened.”

“Yeah, and about tonight.” Baekhyun shakes his head. “That’s all Chanyeol. We told him to stop drinking the whole time we were out, even going so far as to hide the bottles from him, but he kept finding them! Tonight isn’t your fault, this trip isn’t your fault, so don’t beat yourself up over it, alright?”

“Why was he so drunk anyways?” You ask, leaning more heavily onto the counter.

The boys all share a look.

“He ‘broke up’ with Yerim,” Sehun explains. “And everything started hitting him. That Myeon is getting married and that, well, he didn’t.”

“I think a lot of things he had been shoving down just came out all at once and he didn’t really know how to handle it.” Baekhyun shrugs.

That doesn’t make you feel any better. Another ball of sorrow grows in your throat and you clear it, not wanting to cry, especially for other people. Licking your lips, you swear you can still taste him there, the bittersweetness of nostalgia and your own neglected feelings. 

“Are you going to be okay tomorrow?” Jongin asks, knowing you’re also going through the same thing as Chanyeol.

You nod. “Of course. I’m happy for Junmyeon, I’d never miss this.” Speaking of Junmyeon…. “Is…is Myeon okay?”

They all nod in affirmation. “He understood. Kept telling us to just let Chanyeol drink. He had a fun time, besides all that.” 

“Good. I’m glad. If Chanyeol had ruined his bachelor’s party, I’d have no choice but to kick his ass.”

“We’d have to jump him, for sure,” Sehun agrees.

You chat for a little bit longer. There’s a soft knock and Jongdae slips in with a rather large bottle of soju. You all drain it as you catch him up on all that he’s missed. The shock on his face from your revelation is enough to bring out a chuckle from you, which only grows when he holds a hand out to Baekhyun, demanding him to pay up. Apparently, Junmyeon will be getting some winning money as well. Assholes. 

Once the bottle of soju is empty and the boys are satisfied with the smile on your face, they take their leave.

The couch is large and comfortable enough to use as a bed, and after some back and forth with Sehun about your sleeping arrangements, you climb into your makeshift bed with the intention to finally give into the urge and cry yourself to sleep.

Sehun has other plans.

He crawls in after you, slipping soundlessly under the blanket he had room service bring up, and faces you wordlessly.

“Sehun,” you whine with a yawn. “What are you doing?”

“Making sure you don’t beat yourself up over what just happened.”

“What would make you think that?”

He rolls his eyes. “You can fool the others, but you can never fool me.”

“True,” you relent. “You know you were the only one that knew the truth, right? Not even Seulgi knew I was the one who called off the engagement.”

“Of course, I was. You can’t hide anything from me. I’ll admit, I did get a kick watching the others scramble and try to solve the mystery. Though, I’m shocked Chanyeol never told Baekhyun, even after all this time. It makes sense though. He’ll always put you first, even if that means ending things with his wedding date the day before said wedding.”

You bury your head into your pillow. Drunk Chanyeol consumed your mind. His desperate need for your forgiveness, the way his voice broke and his eyes searching for you as though your presence alone was enough for him, and that kiss…. 

“I can’t believe he kissed me.”

You wish he hadn’t. Not just because it exposed your shared secret to Yerim, but because of the implications of it. With that kiss you are forced to admit that Seulgi was right, that Chanyeol still has deep feelings for you, and that you—

“It was bound to happen.” Sehun breaks your train of thought. “He was fucked up. Like, he would not shut up about you. As soon as he got a little tipsy, it was you this, you that. How much he missed you, how proud he was of you. ‘How is it possible that she’s gotten even more beautiful since college? Baekhyun, didn’t you tell me she got fat?’ Junmyeon was like ‘she’d still be just as beautiful if she had gained weight’ and this fool goes, ‘god, I know’ and takes two shots back to back. It would’ve been funny if it wasn’t so damn pathetic.”

You let out a breathless laugh at Sehun’s terrible impersonation of Chanyeol, but peek up at the man. “He really said that?”

“Yeah.” Sehun says your name. “I know we had this conversation earlier, but you have to talk to him. All the things that were holding you back then don’t apply now. You both have grown a lot and are in better places. It’s never too late to start again. Chanyeol wants it, and I know you do too. You’re just latching onto a grudge you created against him to keep you away. It’s baseless, you know? And it’s a lie. You’re very obviously still in love with him. Soulmates work that way.”

“Soulmates,” you repeat skeptically, before sighing. “You’re right though, as you always are—”

“Finally, some gotdamn recognition around here,” he interrupts.

“Anyways, I should have talked to Chanyeol earlier. Really talked to him, not this back and forth dance we’ve been doing. But, there was no way I was going to talk about us when he had a girlfriend, who just so happened to be my friend. The best option was to just ignore him.”

“That was smart of you, but he doesn’t have a date anymore. We’re going to be here for three more days, the two of you still have plenty of time to talk. Get your closure and figure out what you want with him. If there is one thing the past couple days have shown, it’s that both of you have a lot to get off your chests.”

“You’re right.”

He smirks. “I know~”

“Ugh.” You finally settle into the blankets and close your eyes, expecting Sehun to head back to his bed, but he makes no point to move. “Are you going to stay here all night?”

“Are you going to cry soon?” He counter asks.

You check. To be honest, you feel a lot better after talking to Sehun. Your mind is a lot clearer. “No.”

“Either way, I’ll just stay here until you sleep. That way I know for sure.”

You groan. “How the hell am I supposed to sleep with you watching me?”

“Easily.”

And he is right. Once you’re comfortable, you’re out like a light.

series m.list | main m.list

previous chapter | next chapter

taglist @byunparklimchoi, @defloey, @trashlord-007

[cafedanslanuit]

♡   —   pairing: kazutora x reader

♡   —   summary: after a long day at work, you want nothing but to spend a calm night with your boyfriend. however, you have no idea this is the night were all his demons finally get the best of him.

♡   —   tags/warnings: female reader, angst, breakups, hurt feelings everywhere, mention on mental illnesses and nightmares, based on ben platt’s song ‘carefully’, mention of tora’s job in one of the future timelines.

♡   —   a/n: i enjoyed writing kazutora so. damn. much. also, i’m quite proud of this one and the small details i added~ thank you @ofoceansandtombstones​​ for being my lovely beta <3

♡   —  masterlist

And all this time you've had a gentle way of holding me

So could you please release me that way too?

— “carefully” by Ben Platt

“It’s open, come in!”

The first thing Kazutora sees when he opens the door of your apartment is you, kneeling on the kitchen floor and picking up pieces of a broken baking dish. Red sauce has splattered everywhere and his mind betrays him for a second, imagining an accident far worse than what has truly happened. He blinks twice and starts to notice the small details that finally slow down the fast beating of his heart. There are pieces of chicken breasts next to the open oven door and what he thinks are sliced carrots next to your right knee.

You hiss when you pick up a piece of the shattered glass, the sharp end pinching your finger. Kazutora comes back to his senses, widening his eyes as he realizes he’s just been standing there.

“Hey, let me. You’ll cut yourself,” he warns, walking up to you. Grabbing both your hands, he eases you into your feet and then guides you to the living room. “I’ll take care of it,” he promises as he goes back to the kitchen and starts cleaning up the mess.

You let yourself fall on the sofa with a loud thud and let out an exasperated sigh.

“I just had the most awful day,” you whine, taking off your apron and leaving it on the arm of the sofa.  “Work was hell, I got scolded by something that I didn’t do— like always, only this time my boss was all like: ‘You gotta be more careful, we wouldn’t want to lose such a valuable employee’. Like he was going to fire me over someone else’s mistake?!”

Your voice is getting louder by the minute and you take advantage of the fact Kazutora is in another room to keep the volume. You have been waiting the entire day to see him and vent about what a trainwreck you day had been. Just as always, he listens intently, the only noise coming from the kitchen being a soft scraping sound as he picks up everything and throws it to the trash. 

“Then, I went to the store and of course they had run out of basil. Tell me, how does a store that big run out of basil?” you ask. There’s no answer from the kitchen so you continue. “I mean, yeah, I could have gone to another store but my feet were killing me. I’m just not meant to work in heels the entire day,” you sigh tiredly, swinging your feet.

You reposition yourself, now sitting cross-legged on the sofa. Putting your right hand on your left shoulder, you stretch your neck, feeling your sore muscles releasing a bit of tension with a small ‘pop’.

“I ended up preparing something entirely different than I had planned for dinner. I tried to let it go but just as I was going to put it in the oven, it slipped my hands and—”

“I think we should break up.”

Words die in your lips the moment you listen to your boyfriend speak. The silence becomes loud and abrasive as you struggle to understand what was happening. Why was Kazutora breaking up with you with such a small voice? What had triggered him to come to that conclusion? Why had he decided to bring it up now? You turn your head to the kitchen door and watch him slowly make his way towards you, doubtful steps as he takes a seat on the other side of the sofa, avoiding your eyes at all costs.

“What?” you ask, your voice hoarse. His lips form a tight line and you see him swallowing nervously.

“I’m not doing okay— haven’t been for a while. I— it’s been two years since I left prison and I still haven’t— I don’t— I don’t know what I’m doing,” he explains, looking down at his hands.

You nod slowly, trying to comprehend where he’s coming from. Turning your body towards him, you take a deep breath before speaking.

“It’s okay not to know,” you assure him in a soft voice. “Just… take it slow. One day at a time and then I’m sure you’ll—”

“I haven’t been sleeping well,” Kazutora confesses and you notice his voice wavering a little. “I— I keep having nightmares about— about that day and— and also about the motorcycle shop. Those two mix up and…” he takes one of his hands to the side of his head, his fingers grazing his temple. “And I’m hitting Baji in the head. And there’s so much blood— so, so much blood and—”

Leaning forward, you take his hands. They’re shaking and extremely cold and you rub your thumb over his knuckles, trying your best to soothe him.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re safe now, Tora, you’re—”

Kazutora pulls his hands away hastily, leaving a tingling sensation on your palms.

“I can’t!” he says as he shakes his head. You spend a moment looking at your empty hands, never before having felt your boyfriend’s rejection. “I feel like I’m drowning and— You know what? I think relationships just aren’t for me,” he shrugs, his hands moving in exaggerated gestures. “That’s why I never cared for dating, never got myself involved in that kind of shit, not until—”

He finally looks at you and, fuck, you wish he didn’t. You’re not sure if you have the strength to deal with such hurtful discourse. You lick your lips and take yet another deep breath, deciding to ignore his hurtful remark.

“I’m… so sorry you’re feeling this way,” you say, slowing down your words, trying your best not to show how hurt you were. This isn’t him, you tell yourself. So no need for that tightness in your throat. “But you have to understand it’s not because of me. It’s because of everything that you’ve gone through and how hard it’s to deal with them. I don���t blame you, it is hard. But this… us,” you gesture to the both of you. “This is a good thing. Despite all the pain and hurt we’ve both been through, we—”

“Please, stop,” he says, raising his hand and pressing his eyelids together. “I can’t be with you anymore. That’s it, that’s all—”

“So you don’t love me anymore?” you counter. You scoff in disbelief, shaking your head. Kazutora’s eyes shoot open and you notice his pupils shaking in fear, like a deer caught in headlights.

“I love you,” he breathes out, and for a moment you see the boy you fell in love with in his amber eyes that are quickly filling with tears. “I do love you but it’s killing me. I feel like I’m dying,” he chokes out. He looks away from you once more and starts tugging at his fingers. “I’m rotting inside and I don’t know what to do to make it better. I just want it to stop. I want it to stop and— I don’t want you around when I’m like this. I want to figure out what the hell is happening and—”

“But if you love me and I love you then why—”

“I’m not happy with you!”

Kazutora widens his eyes, scared by his loud outburst. He parts his lips, silently muttering nonsense as he tries to come up with words that can make it better. You lower your head and he wants to punch himself over it. He doesn’t want to make you cry, not after everything you’ve done for him. Is he really going to be the person that hurt the one that made a home for him in her embrace? Is he going to hurt the only person that was brave enough to pick up the pieces of his shattered soul?

“I’m…” he babbles, in a soft voice. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it.”

You snort. “No, you really did mean it, Tora.”

He can sense the hurt and sadness in your voice, even if now you’re the one that won’t look at him. He watches helplessly as you stand up and walk towards the living room window in complete silence. The apron you took off is still on the couch and the vast memories of all the times he embraced you while you were wearing it quickly fill his mind.

He wishes there was a way he could keep you. But no matter how much he wants to, he knows there really is no other way. He’s thought about this countless times. He has gone to work without getting proper sleep, stared at his blank tv screen for hours on end, trying to come up with a plan where he could keep you. Was staying with the person he loved the most too much to ask?

No matter in how many shades of light or with how much care he handled the memory of you, the only way he could spare you the greatest amount of pain was to leave you— even if he knew he’d end up shattering your heart as well.

Kazutora notices the way your fingers tightly close around the edge of the window, your knuckles turning white. He had come to terms that he’d lose you today, yet he never expected for it to be this way. It doesn’t matter, he tells himself. If hating him would mend your wounds faster, then he’d take it. Anything that would make the heartache he was causing you a little bit lighter. He knew you were the last person on Earth that deserved to go to bed carrying that much pain in her soul.

Looking out the window, you focus on a small girl walking her dog on the street. It’s a brown labrador and by the size of it, it’s barely a puppy. Rather than walk, it jumps on its four legs, his little head looking back at the girl every chance he has as he happily wags his tail. The pet shop Kazutora and Chifuyu work at immediately comes to mind. Would it be like this from now on? Small things eliciting memories of your days together without your consent and leaving a sour taste in your mouth?

You will need to find a new commute, you think, as you had been stopping by the pet shop on your way home for the past year. Is there another bus that you could take? As you try to remember the lines and their respective routes, you’re engulfed by the memory of the first time Kazutora dozed off with his head resting on your shoulder as you rode the bus together. You close your eyes and you can clearly see his peaceful expression and slightly parted lips as he slept, his fingers tightly intertwined with yours. His breathing is slow and his hands are cold and you wish you could go back, even for a minute and place a kiss on top of his head, since you wouldn’t be able to do so from now on.

Where exactly had you failed? You had just been complaining about your day when he dropped the bomb. Did you complain too much? Did you talk too much? Or was it you the one that was too much? You tried your best and supported him as much as you could but as it turns out, it hadn’t been enough. Good intentions were nothing but useless as you were now saying goodbye to the man you had loved the most.

You didn’t realize you were crying until you felt Kazutora’s cold knuckles against your cheek, wiping your tears. You gasp, startled by his touch and take a couple steps back until your back hits the wall. It takes a few seconds for him to bring his hand now, unsure on what to do next.

He looks so scared and small— it fills your heart with frustration. Your whole body is screaming to take a step forward and comfort him, cradle him in your arms like so many times before, assure him he’s safe with you and that he doesn’t have to worry anymore. That, if you can still go home to each other at the end of a bad day, you can take anything life throws at you.

But that’s the thing. You’re not each other’s home anymore. You don’t get to bury your face in his neck and hum happily when his perfume reaches your nose. You don’t get to have him take a nap on your lap as you watch a series or feel his lips ghost against yours seconds before colliding in a kiss.

You hate it. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, crossing his arms in front of his chest and looking down at his feet. “Please, don’t cry.”

“You know what, Kazutora?” you say, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. You taste venom in your words, yet that doesn’t stop you. “If you’re not happy with me, then what are you doing here?”

He flinches at your words. Biting his inner cheek, he nods, still incapable of holding your gaze.

“Yeah, okay,” he mutters. “I’ll go. I really am sorry.”

Kazutora turns on his heel, walking towards the door. Maybe it’s the way you know he’s not coming back this time that makes your desperation afloat. You don’t want him to go and you also know you can’t make him stay. And even if somehow you could find a way to keep him by your side, it would be worthless.

He’s just not happy with you.

“Are you happy somewhere else, though?” you ask, your words leaving your mouth before your head has time to process them. He stumbles on his feet and stops. “Because if you just can’t manage to be happy, then it’s not on me.”

Kazutora doesn’t have to turn for you to know he’s second guessing himself. The next seconds feel like years as he just stands there, mid-way to the front door, thoughts so messy and loud you can almost hear them.

“That doesn’t matter,” he finally says with his back to you. He closes his fists and you see his shoulders rising and falling as he takes a deep breath. “This way you don’t have to deal with... with the mess I am and—”

“Oh, please, I knew what I was getting into when I started dating an ex-convict.”

The weight of your words fall onto you the moment they leave your mouth. You squeeze your eyes shut, muttering a curse. It takes no time for you to walk towards Kazutora, standing between him and the door.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Tora, I didn’t— you know I didn’t mean it that way. Fuck, I’m so sorry,” you whimper, tears flowing free down your cheeks. Your wave your shaky hands, desperate to make your point across. “I just wanted to say I knew things would be difficult but I loved you— I love you and I—”

Kazutora shakes his head, a gentle yet sad smile on his face as he takes your hands in his. He holds them in front of his chest, squeezing them gently as they don’t stop trembling.

“Stop, it’s okay,” he assures you. “That’s what I am.”

“It’s not,” you protest. “I mean— yeah, but you’re more than that. You’re so much more than that. You’re caring, you’re noble— you’re so tender with the animals at your shop. You’re so sweet with me, always checking if I’ve eaten and offering to help me out if I have chores I need to do. You always come pick me up if I’m working late. You— you’re so fucking special to me.”

Kazutora’s lips form a tight line. “I wish I could see that,” he whispers.

“Then just— let me try. Let me try until you can look at yourself the way I do,” you almost beg. You let go of the hold he has on your hands to gently cradle his face. “I’ll do anything, but... don’t patronize me. I’m not a little girl. Whatever life throws at me, I’ve always been able to handle it. No— we’ll handle it. Together. Like it’s always been, you and me, I just— please, I don’t want you to go,” you cry. “We were going to be happy together, you were going to live with me and I’d give you half my drawers and half my closet and half… half everything. Please, don’t go. Don’t go, Tora.”

The sadness in his amber eyes only confirms what you’ve been fearing this whole time. You sob, your thumbs softly stroking his cheeks as you feel the world crumbling around you. This time, he doesn’t stop you, letting you cry as you hold his face, coming to terms with the fact he’s really leaving after all.

Your hands move to his hair, gently threading your fingers across his long, dark locks. Tracing the outline of his face, you push one of the dyed streaks away, only for it to fall back right where it was before. You can’t help the small smile that forms on your lips. He’s so pretty, you think, as the pads of your fingers gently caress his face. Your thumb grazes the space between his bottom lip and his chin and you dream of a world when he’s not saying goodbye, but rather falling asleep under your touch on your shared bed. You never knew loving someone as much as you loved him was possible-- yet the way your heart was crumbling in pieces was evidence of how much your soul was aching by being separated from the person it belonged to.

Sniffling, you rub your cheek against your shoulder to wipe your tears. You swallow before raising another question.

“Is this a… temporary thing? Or for good?” Your voice comes out in a whisper as you place down your hands on his shoulders.

“I don’t know,” he answers. He wants nothing more than to put his arms around your body like so many times before, but he’s aware that it will only make things more difficult. “But I don’t want to keep you waiting in vain. You should move on.”

Kazutora realizes how much he hates the idea as it leaves his lips. The idea of you starting over with someone else rots in his tongue. He doesn’t want you to hold anyone’s face the way you were just holding his. He wants to keep you all to himself, to go to endless visits to the grocery shop, to watch you fall asleep during movie night and then pretend you didn’t, to massage your hands as you tell him about his day.

But you don’t deserve the guck that’s forming inside his mind. He knows it’s only a matter of time before it comes out pouring and reaches you. And he’ll be damned if he lets himself ruin the one good thing he’s had in his life for many years. He promised to himself he wouldn’t let his ill state of mind touch his loved ones. Never again.

He watches you nod and feels his heart shattering, even if everything is going just the way he intended. You rub his shoulders and look into his eyes, a sad smile on the pretty lips he would never get to kiss again.

“Okay,” you sigh. “We’ll end this but… when you leave, never doubt how loved you were. No— how loved you are. I don’t know what is coming for either of us but… I do know a part of my heart will always belong to you, no matter who I hold hands with. I will always love you, Tora.”

Your words are enough to finally break him. Kazutora clutches your body tightly against him as he loudly sobs against your shoulder. You hold him, tears flowing free once again as you try and soothe the man you love, leaving small kisses on the side of his head and whispering soft reassurances that it’s okay. It’s not, you tell yourself. It’s never going to be okay. But it has to be.

Carefully, you move him back to the sofa, helping him sit down while he refuses to let go of his hold on your body. You lean on the back pillows, both your arms cradling him while he whimpers like a small child. Kazutora clutches the fabric of your sweater with desperation, wishing there was a way he could stay with you.

Why does he have to give up the person that had put a smile back on his face? He can’t quite remember a time when his stomach had hurt out of laughter before he ever met you. Or when he’d experienced such peace as the night he stayed at your apartment and got to see your sleeping face first thing in the morning. He’s never loved anyone as much as he loves you and, for all he knows, he may never love like this again. 

But he could never risk tainting you. He would never be able to forgive himself.

Kazutora softly pulls away from your embrace. His eyes are blotchy and red and you’re sure yours look the same or even worse. His nose is red, like it always does when he cries. It’s endearing, you think. Everything about him, from his hair, to his eyes, his hands— you’ve come to love every part of Kazutora. And that’s exactly why it’s so hard to let him go.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he says in a whisper, resting the side of his head on the back pillows of the sofa.

“Like what?” you ask, gently pushing his hair away from his face and behind his ear.

“Like I matter to you. Like I’m making a huge mistake.”

You take a deep breath. Imitating him, you rest your head on the back pillows as well, so you’re both facing each other.

“I don’t— I don’t fully understand what you’re going through,” you admit, your eyes locked on his. “But if you need to… get away, then you should. You’ve been nothing but loving to me. All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be happy, whether it’s with me or not. You deserve to fully experience all the beautiful things life has to offer.”

Silent tears fall from both your cheeks and his.

“I should be thankful I got to love you for this whole year. Because even if it ends this way… God, I loved you so much,” you sniffle, letting out a small laugh. “And I felt so loved. Isn’t that magical in itself? That we got to love each other at the same time?” you wonder with a sad smile.

Kazutora parts his lips, yet the doorbell interrupts him before he can even speak. You look at the front door, your eyebrows furrowing for a moment before you realize who’s probably there.

“Food’s here,” you say, wiping the tears from your face.

“Food?” Kazutora asks, confused.

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Didn’t I tell you? The baking dish broke so I called that restaurant, the one with the burgers we like.”

“Sorry. I wasn’t really listening back then,” he admits with a pang of guilt. He sits up on the couch and turns his head at you. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

You sit up as well. “I ordered for the two of us. C’mon, stay for dinner. Let’s… remember us this way, okay? Without so many tears and sadness,” you offer, tilting your head towards him. “I even ordered your favourite one.”

Kazutora rubs his face with his sleeve, erasing the trail of the tears he just shed. Looking at you, he nods, drawing a small smile on his lips.

“Okay. I’ll get it.”

He only walks a few steps towards the door before he feels you tugging at the back of his shirt. Turning around, he notices you’re standing right behind him. Your eyes look up to him, biting your bottom lip and not even a ghost of the smile you previously offered him.

“Before that, uh— I want you to know I… I mean it,” you firmly say, taking in all his facial features, loving how they soften every time he looks at you. “I’ll always love you. No matter how many years go by or if I ever stop being in love with you— I’ll still love you.”

“I’ll always love you too,” he replies, taking your hand and squeezing it softly. “I don’t think I could stop even if I wanted to.”

You finally let out a soft chuckle and squeeze his hand back. The doorbell rings again and you walk around Kazutora to get to it. This time, he’s the one that stops you, not letting go of the hold of your hand. Looking back at him, you notice the soft pout in his lips and how they softly tremble, looming more tears.

“It’s okay,” you assure him, and you know you’re saying it to yourself as well. “Who knows, we might get together again someday. Have our own Casablanca moment. We’ll always have the pet shop,” you joke, trying to fight back to tears that threaten to fill your eyes as well.

It’s Kazutora’s turn to chuckle, only this time he does it along with you. You let go of his hand only to hold his face tenderly, a soft smile as you look at the man you love. Standing on your tiptoes, you press your lips against the beauty mark under his right eye. You feel his hands setting on the small of your back and watch his smile widen when you fall back on your heels.

Locking your fingers with him once more, you open the door.

[starlightrows]

At The End of My Rope

Pairing: Din Djarin x f!reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Tags: Angst, pain, hair pulling, biting, co parenting, insecurity, a bit of comfort, early stages of a new relationship

Summary: All kids go through difficult phases, just because Grogu is an old man baby, does not mean he doesn’t go through phases that drive his caregivers crazy

AN: Normally I tend to write Grogu like we see him in the show. Sweet disposition, a little cheeky and mischievous. But I wanted to try something a little different, I was inspired to take on this challenge by this post. I hope I did an okay job!

Din had bid you and Grogu farewell earlier in the day. Giving his son a gentle pat on the head, and you a hesitant but warm embrace. A newer development in your budding relationship. He promised he would com if this job took him longer than the usual 3 days. You weren’t too concerned, this was the set up after all. He hunts, you take care of the child and the ship. But this time was different. You knew you were in for a long couple of days when he refused to eat his favorite dinner. Grogu beat his little hands against the table, tossing away the plate of steamed vegetables and seared meat.

“You better not be getting sick mister,” you warned, mostly to yourself. His skin didn’t feel hot, and he didn’t seem to be having any symptoms of illness. But it was very unlike him to turn down any food, especially his favorite. You cleaned up the fallen bits of food from the floor, and attempted to offer him some of your dinner. But he smacked it away as well.

You sighed and gave him a ration bar. For some reason he was happy to devour that instead. You would have preferred he eat the fresh food. Ration bars are no substitute for fiber and natural vitamins, and even though Grogu outnumbered you in years he was still a growing boy.

After dinner, you put him on the floor on one of the soft blankets you had purchased for him, and tried to entice him into playing with toys or reading a story from the datapad. But he wasn’t having any of that either. He seemed to be disinterested in everything that normally amused him. The only thing that kept his attention now was throwing anything you offered him.

“I think it might be a good idea to have an early bedtime,” you grumbled after catching the datapad mere inches from the floor. Those things aren’t cheap and you’ve only got the one.

You began your evening routine with Grogu. Dimming the lights in the hull. Bringing him into the fresher to wash his face with a warm rag, and brush his six tiny little teeth. He never liked that part, so you tried to be quick about it.

“Ow!” You yelped, recoiling your hand. “Grogu! Not nice. Don’t bite” The bite wasn’t bad enough to break skin, but it sure did hurt for such a little creature. Grogu squeals with delight, apparently unaffected by your scolding and discomfort.

You took him back into the main area of the hull, and tried to place him down in his crib. That wasn’t happening either. The moment you put him down he shot right back up, and yelled for your attention. He had always been a troublesome sleeper, waking up at least two or three times a night. So you picked him up again, and began walking slowly up and down the length of the hull. Braced against your shoulder, and being bounced gently usually did the trick. But tonight, he couldn’t get comfortable. He cried and complained. And you just couldn’t figure out why. So you just kept walking up and down the hull. Over and over and over again, until your feet were numb, your hips ached, and your eyes began to droop.

Grogu finally seemed to be drifting off. You figured you’d be able to keep this up until he was fully asleep, then you’d be able to get some rest too. A quick glance at the chronometer jars you out of your rhythmic pacing... it’s nearly morning. You’d been pacing all night long. Grogu stirred at your shoulder, snapping you back to the present moment. You continued your walking, and he settled easily.

When you were sure he was fully asleep, you lowered him into his crib, and tucked him in. Without bothering to wash your face or even change out of your day clothes, you collapsed onto the bed and fell asleep.

It felt like not even a full minute passed before your eyes shot open again, Grogu was awake and howling for attention. He had managed to climb himself out of his crib, up the storage crates, and up further on to the wall of the crest and gotten himself tangled up in the cargo net attached to the wall. He was dangling from his foot, and wailing. You launched yourself out of bed, and went to disengage him from the netting.

“How did you even get up there?” You ask him. He just giggles and babbles, squirming to get out of your arms. Another glance at the chronometer tells you that the both of you had gotten at least a couple hours of sleep. But not nearly enough by your reckoning. Hopefully he would tucker himself out by playing and the two of you would be able to take a nap in the afternoon. But first, breakfast... another battle of throwing his food at the walls, spitting and crying.

“What’s with you lately?” You ask the little one “You love oatmeal with moon peaches,”

He whines in response. You shrugged your shoulders and took the bowl away from him. Defeated, you unwrapped another ration bar and gave to him. He happily munched on it.

“I know you’re like 50 something years old, but this absolutely has to be your species equivalent to the terrible twos,” you told him, trying to wipe some stray oatmeal from his face and ears. He tried to nip at your fingers again, causing you to pull up short.

“Hey!” You scold him “We talked about this. No biting, remember” He peered at your with those big dark eyes, and shoved the rest of the ration bar into his mouth. You shook your head, and continued cleaning the floor where he’d dropped his oatmeal.

The day dragged on, things got a little better after breakfast. He seemed a little more interested in his toys today, and was content to play mostly by himself. By the early afternoon he was getting cranky and definitely needed a nap. He crawled up into your lap, and whined for some affection. You placed the datapad to the side, and brought him up to rest his head on your shoulder.

“You done being a grouchy pants?” You whispered, patting his back gently “Wanna take a nap with me?” He whimpered out a quiet little response. You decided it would be better not to even get up, instead you leaned back against the wall and closed your eyes. You’ve napped in stranger places.

You woke up again sometime later to intense pain in the side of your head. Your eyes snapped open, and you yelped at the pain. Grogu had a fistful of your hair and was yanking with such ferocious intensity it scared you.

“Grogu! Let go! You’re hurting me,” you cried out. He didn’t seem to be awake yet, it wasn’t on purpose. You shook him as best you could, trying to rouse him from sleep.

His own little eyes snapped open and he gave a final yank. The searing pain intensified as he pulled out your hair. You shrieked in pain. Grogu released the larger chunk of hair still attached to your head. You could not help the tears welling up in your eyes or the pained moans escaping your lips.

You set Grogu down on the play blanket, he rolled over and went back to sleep. The strands of your pulled hair fell to the ground. You rushed off to the fresher to look at the damage. You were relieved to find that it wasn’t all that bad. True he has gotten a fistful to pull on, but he had only yanked out a tiny amount. And it bled a little. Still the pain was excruciating, and it scared you to think your sweet little boy could hurt you this way.

“It’s not his fault,” you reminded yourself. “He didn’t do it on purpose,” You wiped away the blood with a wet cloth, doing a rather haphazard job of it. You went back to Grogu, and did your best to pick up the hair he had plucked.

You hoped the remainder of his nap wouldn’t last too much longer so he would sleep tonight. But alas, luck was not on your side this week. He slept far too long, threw more food at dinner, cried while you bathed him and insisted on being rocked all night long... again. The one silver lining being, he fell asleep at least a little earlier than last night.

The morning came again, and things seemed to be better. He ate two full bites of his oatmeal before throwing it at you. But he ate all of the moon peaches. You decided to count that as a win. He played with you today, and seemed to want your affection. But he refused a nap and by the late afternoon he was getting grouchy and mean. It all came to ahead when he reached up for your datapad when you weren’t looking, and knocked off the edge of the storage crate you placed it on. The screen made an awful crunching sound, and you knew without even looking at it... it was toast.

Grogu was frustrated. He wanted to read stories, but the datapad wasn’t working. “It’s broken honey,” you tried to tell him “it won’t work. The screen is cracked... and there’s probably something else broken on the inside,”

He whined and complained, and just could not be consoled. It occurred to you that he hadn’t had the opportunity to play outside, or with others aside from you and Din in weeks. Maybe this was the reason for his misbehavior and frustration. Maybe if this job Din was on went well you could convince him to take a day or two off at park the ship on one of the safer planets he knew of to let the kid run around and blow off some steam.... but you also knew that he had to keep hunting, and it was your responsibility to keep the kid entertained and safe.

By the end of the night, Grogu was exhausted, not having taken his nap, and unwilling to cooperate. So you skipped washing his face and brushing his teeth. You didn’t even bother cooking dinner for him or yourself, you just gave him the ration bar you knew he would eat. He seemed content to get in his crib, but wanted you to sit by him and rub his back. Exhausted you sat down beside the crib and indulged him.

He’s gone through so much in his little life. And it’s not like human children don’t go through difficult phases. But you were at the end of your rope. Not sleeping or eating enough, you hadn’t showered in a couple days, your head still hurt a bit where he had pulled out your hair... you didn’t even want to think about what you looked like right now.

You wished Din was here. Not that you’d feel comfortable asking for help. He had his own responsibilities to take care of and figure out. But the two of you had grown close in the last few months. A few heated moments and admissions of deeper feelings, but you were both still trying to figure out what it all meant and how to proceed with one another. In this moment you just wanted him close by, if for nothing else another person to witness that you were doing everything you possibly could in this situation.

You fell asleep that night leaning up against the cradle, head bent at an uncomfortable angle and your jaw hanging slightly open. And that’s how Din found you. After pushing his quarry into the carbonite freezer, he was shocked and mildly horrified to see you in such a state.

Puffy bags under your eyes, hair in disarray, what looked like dried blood hastily wiped away on your neck and chin. Grogu on the other looked perfectly fine. Tucked up in his little bed, sleeping peacefully.

Din decided it would be best to take off and leave this planet first, safer in hyperspace. He went up to the cockpit to start the flight sequence. Next he removed all of his armor except the helmet and boots. He gingerly placed your arm around his neck, wrapped his arm around your torso and the other hooked under your knees. He lifted you off the ground, and carried you the short distance to the bed.

He checked you for wounds, the source of the dried blood. He was confused to find no injuries or markings. He would have to ask you about it in the morning.

When morning came you became aware of two things. First, you were warm.... very warm. Warm from being held all night by strong arms, against a warm body. Second, someone was screaming... immediately you bolted out of bed and left Din scrambling trying to figure out why you had moved with such urgency.

Grogu had once again climbed himself up the storage crates, and somehow gotten up even higher on the cargo net before getting stuck. You climbed up on the crate and pulled him down as carefully as you could. Din tumbled out of the bunk, and watched you.

“You have to stop doing that,” you told Grogu, trying to tuck back his whispy white hairs. Only for him to bite your finger, again! You yelped in pain, and retracted your finger. That bite was harder than the first time.

“Hey!” Din’s sharp voice cut through the chaos. You turned to face him, still holding Grogu. Din stuck his arms out to take him, you passed him over.

“Grogu. Did you just bite her?” He asked sternly. Grogu’s ears flattened out, looking guilty.

“We do not bite. You know better,” he scolded. He took Grogu over to the corner of the hull, farthest away from the galley, the bunk, and the storage crates; and set him down.

“Sit there,” he said “And don’t move,”

Grogu’s big eyes watered, as he watched Din walk away. You stood by the door of the fresher, watching this interaction. You turned away, ducking into the fresher when Din turned to you. He followed you.

“Hey” his voice was gentler now “are you alright?”

You tried not to look at him, keeping your back turned. You knew you looked awful, and were feeling extremely insecure about your parenting skills at the moment. So to keep him at bay you nodded your head, “Mhm, I’m fine,”

He took another step towards you, and caught your hand tugging gently. You knew you wouldn’t be able to hide forever, so you gave in and turned to him.

“It’ll be a couple hours before we get there. Why don’t you take a shower and have a little down time,” he said

“I appreciate the offer, but I’m okay really. I’m just a little tired and a little frustrated with this phase he’s in right now,” you replied. His thumb stroked lovingly across the back of your hand.

“You’ll feel better if you rest. He can come sit with me in the cockpit for while you shower and eat. When he goes down for his nap, I want to talk to you about why there’s blood on your neck,” he said carefully. He wanted you to rest, but he also needed you to know that he was worried.

You’re hesitant to accept. He still needed to fly the ship, and probably had to have a video com with Karga. And someone had to mind Grogu while he did those things. You must have taken too long to respond, or maybe he can really just see right through you because he kept speaking.

“You’re not a bad parent for taking a break and having time for yourself. And it’s not your fault he’s going through a phase,” he told you, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

You drew him in, needing to feel the pressure of his embrace. “Thank you,” you whispered. He rubbed your back. Before he pulled away to let you bathe and rest, he couldn’t help himself, he had to ask.

“Why is there blood on your neck?” His voice was measured and careful, he really wanted to know, but didn’t want to show how much he was freaking out over it.

You gave a somewhat hysteric laugh, “He yanked a clump of my hair out,”

“Stars! Are you okay?” He was utterly shocked, that was the last thing he would have guessed would come out of your mouth.

“I’m fine,” you shook your head “We really need to let him play outside. He’s got too much energy, and not enough stimulation in this bucket of bolts,”

Din shook his head, “Yeah, if he’s bored enough to pull out someone else hair, we definitely need to get him out for some fresh air,”

[nocturne-overtures]

Kinktober Day 19

Pairing: Dom Kun x Lucas, Hendery, Ten, Yangyang, Xiaojun

WC: 1.4k

Prompt: Begging + Sex Toys

Genre: Smut

Tags: Begging, Sex Toys, Fucking Machine, Remote Vibrators, Cock Rings, Overstimulation, Ruined Orgasms, Exhibitionism, Frottage, Nipple Play, Brat Taming, Dirty Talk + Light Degredation, Voyeurism, Light Dom Training, Implied Blowjob, Established OT7 Poly Relationship

A/N: I added Xiaojun. Fight me

The full M.List for Kinktober is here, and I’ll be posting and adding links to that post as I go. The prompts span several fandoms, so feel free to check the list to see if you’re interested in any of the future

Day 18                        Day 20

AO3

“Kun-ge please! I’m s-sorry!”

Kun brought a cup of tea up to his lips, sipping calmly before he looked down at his phone.

Five minutes had passed.

He brought up an app on his phone, sliding his hand up a dial and smiling as a chorus of sensitive cries came from behind him.

On his bed, Lucas was cuffed to the headboard, a blindfold over his eyes as Hendery squirmed in his lap. He was seated fully inside of him, drool running down his mouth as a ballgag kept him from fully closing it. Lucas panted, his chest flushed with claw marks, his nipples perked and puffy from Kun’s rough treatment before they started the real punishment for all of them.

Yangyang whined from his place just beside Lucas, babbling in whatever language fell from his lips first. Ten was situated on top of him, sliding their restrained cocks together as the fucking machine Kun had set up pistoned in and out of him. Sweat clung to the older idol’s head as he rutted desperately against Yangyang, chasing an orgasm that wouldn’t come without Kun’s permission.

All of them had vibrating cock rings on them, keeping their desperate need to cum in check.

“Any of you pulling the word?”

Kun was met with a chorus of ‘no’s in different languages and he smiled, turning his music up as he continued producing.

“Then settle down. I’m making music over here. Unless you want to be on the track, too? I’m sure Sicheng and Xiaojun won’t mind just the four of you having a unit song all to yourselves, yes?” He mused.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it! Please- ahh fuck please, Ten-ge- please, I need to cum!” Yangyang squirmed below Ten, his hips moving on their own as they rocked upwards. Kun hummed, looking at the app on his phone. He slid one of the dials up and smiled as Yangyang cursed in German, his eyes rolling back as the vibrator in his ass began to stroke at an even higher setting.

“Following Ten and Lucas all the time is gonna get you in trouble, Xiao Yang. You too, Hendery. I don’t know, or care, what kind of things Baekhyun let you two get away with while you were away with SuperM, but I’m Qian Kun, not Byun Baekhyun, and when you’re back here with me, you must know by now that you’re not going to speak to me and act just however you’d like.” Kun hummed, bringing his tea back to his lips.

Hendery whimpered around the gag, and Kun was merciful enough to stand and take it out of his mouth, running his thumb over his lips.

“How does it feel, Dery? Hm? Too much?” He inquired, swiping his thumb over the drool running down his lips before swirling it around his left nipple, pinching lightly. Hendery jolted, clenching around Lucas as he sat down fully, throwing his head back.

“Fuck! N-No, I-I’m okay...W-wanna be good, I-I’m sorry-” He trembled, his blonde hair tickling Kun’s shoulder as he tilted his head back. Kun, satisfied with the answer, turned his head and kissed him, sending a look down at Lucas’s flushed body as he fought the urge to fuck up into Hendery’s lubed up hole.

Idly, Kun remembered just how disobedient and rude Lucas had been as of late. Maybe a bit too comfortable, in his opinion.

He turned his gaze back to Hendery and kissed his temple.

“You wanna be good? You wanna cum?”

“God, yes please.”

“I’ll take the ring off, you just have to fuck yourself on Xuxi until you cum.”

Hendery nods eagerly and Kun rewards him with a kiss, ignoring Yangyang, Ten, and mostly Lucas’ whimpering. Kun reaches between them, sliding the scarlet red cock ring off of him. Hendery whines, resting his head on Kun’s shoulder as he bounces, his cock straining in Kun’s hand as he rode Lucas.

“Kun-hyung, I wanted to see if-” Xiaojun opened the door, his eyes widening as he surveyed the room. His lips parted as he watched Hendery grind down on Lucas’ cock until he came with a scream, shaking. Kun wrapped thick arms around his waist and kissed at his temple, keeping him still as he kept stroking him, smiling coyly as his cum landed all over Lucas’ abs.

Kun kept stroking until Hendery put a trembling hand over his, whining.

Kun let him go and looked over at the doorway, finding Xiaojun standing there with his face beet red. Kun chuckled and licked his hand, arching a brow.

“Like what you see?” He hummed. Xiaojun bit his lip before he nodded. Kun purred at the honesty, lifting Hendery out of Lucas’s lap. He let Hendery lay on a clear part of his bed, letting the blonde catch his breath as he beckoned Xiaojun into the room.

“Do you want to participate? This isn’t Sicheng’s cup of tea, but I’d love to teach you. Especially with how many naughty boys we have in our group. I’m sure they’ve teased you enough for you to be curious to see how it would feel to be on my side of things, no?” Kun purred, looking over at Ten and Yangyang as Ten let out a string of curses in Thai at yet another ruined orgasm.

Xiaojun pushed the door closed behind him and nodded, shuffling over to Kun. Kun kissed him, using his clean hand to cup his cheek before he wiped off his dirty one with a wet wipe he had in a pack on the nightstand. He left Lucas’ abs a mess and motioned for Xiaojun to follow his lead.

“Pay attention.” Kun hummed before he paused the machine, giving Ten a brief reprieve as he freed Yangyang from below him. It was a blessing and a curse because it left his overstimulated cock without any friction or relief. He looked up at the two older idols, his body flushed all the way down to his chest as his cock sat red and throbbing between his legs.

“P-Please, I’ve learned my lesson, I-I’m sorry for being rude, please please please-”

He continued to babble as Kun leaned into Xiaojun’s space, whispering to him. When he was finished, Xiaojun sent him an uncertain look, but he only nodded, looking towards their youngest. Xiaojun leaned down at him, shushing him gently. Yangyang instantly quieted down, looking up at him with big doe eyes. Xiaojun stared at his lips before he pressed his fingers into him, pulling the vibrator free and replacing it with his fingers. Yangyang arched up into him, shaking as Xiaojun kissed his cheekbone before sliding the ring off, stroking him to completion as he whimpered.

Kun watched the two of them before turning to Ten, finding the man sending him a fiery, challenging look. Kun’s lips quirked up as he tilted his chin upwards, looking him in the eyes.

“I take it you haven’t decided to apologize yet for your behavior?” He hummed, his voice dripping like warm honey. Ten only tilted his head, his lips curling up.

“I guess I haven’t. What do we do about this now?” He inquired. If he played his cards right, he could probably provoke Kun into roughly fucking him into these sheets-

Kun was a step ahead, shaking his head as he moved to turn the machine back on, this time all the way, leaving Ten with no one and nothing to rut against, leaving his cock strained and neglected between his legs.

“Fuck!”

”We aren’t gonna do anything. I’m gonna go see if Xuxi is ready to apologize. You can think about your actions more while I’m over there. Remember, Chittaphon,” Kun leaned down to Ten’s level, smiling sweetly despite the look in his eyes that made Ten whine.

“I’m not Baekhyun. You’re not going to get away with disrespecting me, love.”

Ten shuddered at the tone and bit his lip as Kun walked back over to Lucas, pulling the blindfold free. He let Lucas adjust to the light before the younger man looked up, opening his mouth to apologize and beg Kun to let him cum as well. Kun pressed a finger to his lips, shaking his head before he unzipped his pants.

“Oh no, you don’t get to sweet-talk your way out of this, either. I’ve heard enough of your smartass comments for the time being. You can put that mouth to use doing something productive.”

Lucas looked from Kun’s hardness before looking up into his eyes and nodded, opening his mouth. Kun purred in satisfaction, pushing the head of his cock past Lucas’ pillow lips.

“Good boy. Ill teach all of you some manners again, don’t you worry.”

[jean-kayak]

A Playlist?

Summary: Your friend gives you a playlist, but it has the same song on it

Pairing: Kazunari Takao x gn!reader

Warnings: confusion, bit of miscommunication, little bit of fluff

Word Count: 1,856

A/N: I actually went back and watched kuroko no basket because of an ask I got, and I ended up falling in love with this man all over again

"What are you doing here?" Midorima asks you, and you scoff at the annoyance in his voice.

"Can't I come and see you on a random day of the year?" you ask, and he rolls his eyes before turning around to shoot the ball, and you watch as it makes it in, the ball only touching the net.

You heard Midorima talking to Takao about wanting to practice his shooting at an outside court because the school's gym was closed for cleaning. You decided to tag along, but you're slowly regretting that decision as you jump up and down to try and get some type of warmth.

"What's in the bag?" he asks you, and you smile widely as you remember why you brought it.

"It's a present for you!" you tell him excitedly, and he gives you a confused look as he pushes his glasses up his face. "Oh, c'mon, it's not bad. Here, open it!" You hand him the bag, and he eyes it cautiously before accepting it.

You watch as he slowly opens it like he's waiting for something to jump out at him. When he pulls out the item, he holds it in front of his face before looking back at you. "It's a doll that looks like you," you explain, even though he should be able to obviously see that. "My sister made it for you. She says that you're her favorite basketball player."

You see his expression soften slightly at the origin of the doll. "It's cute, right?" you ask, and you see him tense up before he hesitates. Granted, it's not the best-looking doll out there, you would even say it's a little creepy looking. "Takao, come look at Midorima's present." You call your other friend over, and he jogs over to you, and he burst out laughing when his eyes land on the doll.

"Their sister made it," Midorima explains, and Takao's laugh seems to die down, but you speak up again.

"I guarantee that that doll will be your lucky item in about two days." You and Takao start laughing again, and Midorima rolls his eyes before neatly putting the doll back in the bag it came in. You sit on the bench, watching the both of them scrimmage with each other for so long, you don't know how much time's passed. But what you do know is that you're freezing.

You thought you had worn enough clothes for today, but you didn't expect it to be so windy today. You rub your arms violently as you shiver, and the sound of footsteps coming closer to you makes you look up. You tilt your head up to see Takao standing in front of you, holding his jacket in front of you.

"Here. Take it," he tells you, and you thank him as best as you can through your chattering teeth before taking the jacket and slipping your arms inside. You take a deep breath in as you feel the warmth surrounding you, and his scent overflows your nostrils. You snap out of whatever trance you were in, looking back at Takao.

"Thanks," you tell him softly, and he stares at you before nodding his head. It looks like he's about to say something else, but Midorima calls his name and he's jogging away from you and back onto the court. While you're busy working on warming yourself back up, Midorima is looking at his teammate with a certain expression.

Takao raises his eyebrows as Midorima pushes his glasses up. "You're not getting tired are you, Shin?" he asks, playfully, but the look he's giving him is making him nervous. He doesn't say anything, but he glances in your direction, and Takao feels his eyes widen slightly. He hasn't figured it out, has he?

"You should say something," he tells him bluntly, and he waves him off with his hand.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he responds, feigning ignorance.

~

"Takao!" you call out, jogging a little to catch up to him in the hallway. He turns around, a smile appearing on his face when his eyes land on you. You reach out with his jacket in your hand. "Thanks for letting me borrow it," you tell him, and he takes it from you, and he hopes you don't notice the hesitancy in his movements. He liked seeing you in his jacket. As a matter of fact, it was all he could think about the rest of the time he was practicing that day.

"It was no problem." He puts the jacket on, and the first thing he notices is how much it smells like you now. He has to refrain from bringing the material up to his nose and breathing in deeply. You're saying something that he doesn't catch, and you start to walk away, but he stops you. You turn around, your eyebrows raising in concern when you see his face turning pink.

You wait for him to say something, walking a little bit closer to him. He sticks his hands in his pockets, looking down at the floor before he reaches into his backpack. He pulls something out, handing it to you. You take it, confusion written on your features as you see that it's a CD. "I made you a Christmas playlist," he tells you sheepishly. "Since you said you love Christmas music."

The confusion on your face is replaced with joy as you look at the disc, your name is written on it with Christmas decorations surrounding it. "Oh, wow, thanks! I'll listen to it tonight." The bell rings and you say goodbye before running off to class, and Takao sighs, his heart racing like he just played a tight game.

~

You're about to start on your homework, digging through your bag to find your notes when your hand lands on the CD Takao gave you. You look over, grazing over the writing through the glass, and you decide to play it while you work. You put it in your radio before sitting back down, the first song playing through the speakers, and you immediately recognize it as "All I Want For Christmas Is You," the Mariah Carey version of course, and you smile at the sound of one of your favorite Christmas songs playing.

You hum to the music as you work, and you wait to hear the next song when it ends. You tilt your head in confusion when you hear the song playing again, and you just assume he put it on the playlist twice by accident, but you listen to it happily anyway. But then you hear the song play again. Then again. And again.

You start to think the CD is messed up, so you take it out and clean it before putting it back in. But your confusion is only fueled when the song keeps playing like it's on repeat. You take the CD out, looking over it. If something really is wrong with it, why would he give it to you in the first place? You don't think any damage would've been done by putting it in your bag, you made sure you were careful not to cause any.

Then you think about it. What if he actually made the playlist with only this song? You lean back in your chair as you think. Wait. You shake your head slightly at the conclusion you come to. There's no way that was his intention, right? Was this his way of hitting on you? You have to admit, it'd be just like Takao to do something like this, but at the same time, it could be a joke.

But if it was a joke, he would have been more willing to give it to you. You think back to when he handed you the CD. It was kind of hard to tell because you usually don't see him that way, but he seemed nervous.

Your homework was completely forgotten, and you spent the rest of the night figuring out what it meant. Even as you were walking through the hallways the next day, you tried to convince yourself that you were overthinking it, that there's no way that he could possibly like you. Right?

You're so busy arguing your thoughts that you end up running into someone in the middle of the hallway, and luckily you catch your stuff before it falls out of your hand. "I'm really sorry, oh, Takao."

"No, it's my fault, I wasn't watching where I was going." You both linger in the hallway awkwardly, avoiding eye contact. You didn't think you'd see him this soon, you don't really know where to start.

"Listen about that playlist," you start, but he's quick to cut you off.

"Oh, that? Don't worry about that, it was just a joke," he responds quickly, and you feel your shoulders slump a little. You really hoped it wasn't, and you struggle to say what you want to say, but you figure that everyone gets rejected at some point.

"Really? Because I was hoping it wasn't," you reply easily, and you're confused when you see his face morph in surprise and relief?

You watch as he seems to freeze in his spot, and you tilt your head in concern as you step closer to him. You reach your hand out to touch him. "Takao?"

When your hand lands on his arm he jumps, seeming to be out of the trance he was in. "Wait, wait, do you mean that you feel the same way I do? Like, you like like me?"

You chuckle slightly at the way he's babbling, and you nod as you slowly slide your hand into his. "Yes, Kazu, I like like you."

You think he short circuits again, but then he's coming back, lacing his fingers with yours. "Okay, so now ill have to tell Midorima that he was wrong. That confessing my feelings for you through a playlist was ingenious."

You laugh a little louder. "It is something that you would do." He flashes you that smile that makes your heart race, and this time is no different.

"Hold on, now I have to ask you out on a date." You smile even harder at the sudden subject change, but then he's shaking his head. "Is it okay if I ask you after school? I'm still a little shocked at the fact that you like me too. I gotta get myself together first."

You laugh again as you nod. "If you want to, but you know I don't care."

"I know, but I want to ask you properly, you know?" You're about to respond when Midorima comes up behind him and pulling him away by the collar. "Wait, Shin, wait I'm not done yet." Midorima doesn't listen, instead responds with something about him needing to get to class and to stop holding you hostage.

"I'll ask you out after school, okay?" Takao yells before he disappears down the hallway.

Of course, he's still a nervous wreck when he asks you out, but to you, it doesn't matter, your answer was already yes.

Christmas Event Masterlist!

[stxvercgersslut]

Always Here

Prompts: “Please don’t go”

A/n: I just had to make this with these promps 😂 @stargazingfangirl18 @navybrat817 this was my fave to write! Also I have nails on that may prevent me from actually writing the correct words sometimes so I apologise 😂

Description: y/n got horribly sick the night before Chris had to go for a huge life changing interview forcing the actor to chose what’s more important to him.

A/n; in this specific oneshot the reader is 3 years old so still a toddler ☺️ I also switch from she/her to you/your quite often. Divider just marks where point of view changes 💞

Temporary tag list: @et-lesailes @jtargaryen18

Warnings: mentions of vomit and over all tones of fluff

Chris Evans x Daughter! Reader

“Yeah yeah, John I’ll be there in around 30 minutes. I’m just about to leave the house now. Just have to drop y/n off at Scott’s for the day and then I’ll be on my way.” The 39 year old actor spoke through his phone whilst juggling not only eating his breakfast but also having to make his little 3 year old, y/n’s, breakfast too all the while having a conversation with his manager about his latest interview. Of course making sure that he was concentrating on cutting Y/n’s toast in to perfect triangles, if they were anything less then perfect of course she would just point blank refuse to eat it, just barely listening to Jake at this point. Even if he didn’t understand her peculiar routine, Chris would never say no to her. He couldn’t help it, she was just too damn adorable.

From the moment that Y/n had been placed in his arms exactly 3 years ago, the actor had vowed to always protect her from demons that lerk around them until the day that he too his last breath. Which he of course prayed wouldn’t be too soon since he longed to watch his precious angel grow up into the strong confident women he was positive she was going to turn into. “Okay well make sure you get here quickly. You’re already fifteen minuets late Chris. I don’t know how much longer I can stall them.” The sigh of frustration coming from the other end of the phone line was pretty damn obvious as John thought about the next words he could say. It was almost extremely audible to hear the cogs turning in his head. But Chris couldn’t have been more pissed from his managers choice of words if he tried. However, he attempted to keep his cool. If not for his sake then for his 3 year olds sake. She really didn’t need to hear him get angry. Especially not on the phone. “Okay okay! I’m sorry, y/n’s been awake all night with a cough.” And with that Chris finally wrapped up his conversation, hanging up the phone and leaving the kitchen, Y/n’s perfectly neat triangle toast in hand.

By the time chris had walked back into his toddlers room he found that she was unfortunately still passed out in her miniature toddler sized bed. Snuggled firmly into the blankets looking like a beautiful angel from where he was standing. How could he wake her up from such a deep slumber when she’d only just managed to fall asleep nearly an hour ago? Exactly! He just couldn’t. She looked so peaceful laying there with the blankets draped across her, almost as if she had no care in the world. Her y/h/c locks smushed across her face hiding the otherwise noticeable flush of red on her cheeks from the fever that she had been running. Any other day Chris would have cancelled to stay with her, but today he couldn’t. Not when his career needed the extra little boost.

But then again what mattered more to him? His career? Or the physical well-being of his 3 year old daughter? Now that was a question that hardly needed an answer! Especially when it was clear as day that Chris would choose his little girl in a heartbeat if he could. No matter what! But this situation was different. Unfortunately he couldn’t just say no to his manager without a good reason for cancelling, although Y/n being incredibly sick was definitely a good enough reason right?

❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅

With a great big sigh the actor finally placed your toast on the side before gently pulling the blankets from over you, exposing your tiny little figure to the welcomes cool air. “Sweetheart? Y/n? Can you wake up for me please?” Your father soothes as he attempted to coax you into waking up, but he should have known better. If he wanted you to wake up quickly then he should have thought of a better way of doing so then just shaking you. But with you being so weak from barely getting any sleep? He wasn’t exactly sure you would wake up. “Come on baby...can you wake up for daddy?” This time Chris managed to pick you up, rocking you from side to side like he had when you were barely hours old but this time being a little firmer with his rocking in his arms to make damn sure that you did wake up. And soon enough you finally did.

Slowly but surely your eyes opened, taking in your surroundings once again as your eyes adjusted to the agonisingly bright room, working hard to bring yourself back to reality. “Morning bubba” he cooed, seconds away from offering you toast before you once again began to cough harshly. Pulling a cringe like expression into his face. “Awe baby, I hate leaving when you’re like this, but I really don’t have a choice....will you be okay with uncle Scott for a few hours?” Chris questioned whilst still rocking you ever so gently, his right hand beginning to rub and pat your back In hopes that it would somehow help you stop coughing. Or at least just help you settle. At this point Chris seriously was considering just cancelling the interview with Jimmy Fallon so that he could stay with you. Once you’d finally stopped with your god damn awful coughing fit that your body had subjected you to, you were finally able to speak. “Daddy no leave! Daddy stay! Please don’t go”You spoke hoarsely whilst snuggling closer into Chris’s chest making his heart begin to tear due to how sick you were. Now it really was difficult to pluck up the courage to leave you. “Daddy can’t stay baby, I have to go to work. But you’re going to have a lot of fun with uncle Scott okay? He’s going to take care of you whilst I’m not there” The Male spoke as he kissed the top of your sweaty forehead, grimacing at home warm toy actually were. Which of course seemed to make Chris slightly more curious as to if you were fit enough to even sit in the back seat of his car where he wouldn’t be able to see you.

Thankfully Chris’s trail if thought had been paused when the sound of his ring tone echoed around the room, finally hitting his ears and startling you in the process. Quickly fishing out his phone only to find that this was in fact Scott calling, making his eye light up. Now was his chance to help you as much as physically possible. “Hey Scott, what’s up?” Chris spoke as he finally answered the phone, sitting down on your bed with you still in his arms as he attempted to get you to at least eat one piece or toast. Which at the moment you seemed to just completely refuse. Making Chris even more concerned, meaning that he really wasn’t paying much attention to his brother. In fact, he had completely missed everything that Scott had said, humming in agreement even though he had no idea what he was even agreeing too. For all he knew he was agreeing to sky diving.

❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅

Did Chris really think he was born yesterday? Apparently so. Come on Chris it really didn’t take a genius to realise that his own brother wasn’t paying attention. So instead of babbling on about whatever he has been trying to speak to his brother about, because at this point even he had forgotten, he did the decent thing and made sure to check on his older brother. “Ch—“ the younger sibling questioned before being stoppe by the stomach churning unpleasant sound of his usually bubbly niece coughing harshly through the phone. The sound in itself was enough to shatter Scott’s heart to pieces. He loved that little girl with a passion, always asking about her whenever he talked to Chris, so to hear that she was so ill seemed to spark worry in the younger Evans sibling. “Chris? Don’t go to that interview and don’t even think about even putting her in your car!” The Male demanded as he grimaced at the sound of his niece coughing a lot more violently now, until the sound of her throwing up and Chris’s loud sigh could be heard from the other end of the phone. Oh that poor girl. She really was having the worst time right now.

❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅

The line went dead for a solid 3 minutes as Chris hurried to the bathroom, never stopping the slow motion of his hand rubbing small circles on your back in hopes that, if you needed to throw up again, the small gesture would help to prevent you from having to force the vomit out of your throat. “Okay baby okay....that’s not gonna come out of your hair on its own...I’m gonna need to bath you” the actor explained to you whilst helping you stand next to the toilet, directing your head into the bowl as you threw up again. Of course, forgetting Scott was even on the phone until the sound of his brother deliberately shouting int the phone for a response seemed to startle him. Quickly picking up the phone before they started their conversations (italics is Scott normal is Chris.

“Chris?! What the hell just happened?”

“Y/n threw up all over herself and me. I need to go call John and let him know I’m gonna be later then expected.”

“Don’t you dare! Send me Johns number and I’ll call him, you’re not going to leave the house! Instead you’re going to stay with your daughter and make sure she’s okay! Y/n comes first always”

“Funny thing is you’re not actually the boss of me”

“No I’m not but that doesn’t mean I won’t beat your ass if you don’t stay with your three year old daughter!”

“Scott this interview could be career changing!”

“And if you don’t stay with y/n it’ll be life changing!”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. If you leave Y/n then something could happen whilst you’re being interviewed. Do you really want to risk that chance?”

“No not really”

“The stay with Y/n and send me johns number.”

Chris’s groan wasn’t barely above a whisper as he pressed his phone against his shoulder, keeping his ear firmly against it to prevent any unwanted accidents whilst he filled the bathtub with warm water. Of course grimacing every time you threw up into the toilet. Oh how he wanted to take this dreadful bug from you. But he just couldn’t. “Okay okay fine!” And with that Chris ended the conversation with his brother, swiftly hanging up the phone and forwarding his managers number to Scott before switching his phone off. There was no need to keep his phone on now since you were all that mattered to him right now. Besides, if he did answer his phone or even keep it turned on then he’d 100% end up arguing with his manager about ‘not taking his job seriously’. That just couldn’t happen right now.

Soon enough Chris halted the flow of warm and cold water, quickly dipping his elbow into the mix to make sure it wouldn’t scold you before he finally turned to you once it was deemed child friendly. “Alright pumpkin, lets get you all cleaned up and into some new pjs. Hopefully your fever will go down after your bath.” The Male soothes as he waited for you to finally finish throwing up before picking you up to bath you. Oh he was most certainly in for a tough day.

[oboevallis]

lost

sorry this is so long, i don’t know if it really makes sense but i was talking with him grandmother and she told me this story about how we went to the beach with the family and we went walking and it was late and high tide and we got absolutely completely lost and she didn’t speak great english and had no phone and we were just walking trying to find the hotel which all look the same while everyone was looking for us and that kinda inspired this story (lol sorry i feel like i do a lot of stories based on events that have happened to me so idk if that’s boring or not ill stop talking now tho)

Amelia quietly slipped out of bed once she realized her son was awake and babbling to himself, and she knew if she didn’t quickly attend to him, he’d start wailing causing the rest of the house to wake up. As much as she savored her sleep she enjoyed the early morning feeds, no one else was up, allowing her to be solely focused on her son. She quietly slipped out the back door to get settled on the lawn chair, and was startled when she saw Maureen, almost forgetting the two had come to visit.

“Good morning.” Maureen smiled, nursing her thermos of coffee.

“Morning.” Amelia reciprocated settling in the chair next to her.

“Hope you don’t mind I came back here. Eric is in a work call and I tend to distract him, and I just found myself out here.”

“No not at all.” The neurosurgeon responded truthfully as she guided her son to her breast, which he eagerly latched onto. “Thanks again for taking the kids for the day, it was much appreciated.”

“Of course. We had a great time with them.” The older woman smiled kindly, putting Amelia at ease. She tried so hard to make a good impression on her boyfriends parents and now felt at ease knowing they thought she was good enough for their son. “I don’t know how you and Link do it, especially in a pandemic. I mean you can’t take em to the park, museum, or anything.”

“Me either.” The woman absentmindedly chuckled, she was just taking it a day at a time. The women turned around once hearing the door open to reveal the oldest child.

“Auntie Amelia, I have a proposition for you.” Zola smiled as she walked further into the backyard still in her pajamas.

“A proposition huh?” The woman chuckled, it always impressed her when her niece would use a vocabulary word out of reach for a girl her age in the proper manner.

“Yep, I think we should not do school today, stay in our pjs, build a fort in the living room, and have a movie marathon.” The girl announced jumping on the balls of her feet, as much as Amelia wanted to oblige she knew she couldn’t.

“We can this weekend, but I’m sorry we can’t just not do school.”

“Ugh, but mom would let us.” This caused Amelia to laugh.

“We both know your mom would not in any capacity let you miss school if you weren’t sick.”

“It was worth a shot.” Zola shrugged.

“It was, but I’ll let you pick what we have for dinner tonight.”

“Pizza?”

“You’ve got it.”

“Do you think Link will still help me with my report.”

“I’m sure he’d love to, just let him sleep a bit more and once he wakes up ask him.” Zola nodded and ran back into the house, Amelia sighed in relief there wasn’t a tantrum.

“You’re good with kids, especially remediating a situation.” Maureen commented, admiring the younger woman more.

“I try.” Amelia chuckles, Maureen has only seen the kids well behaved and not in their tantrum state.

“So, I hate to be blunt, but my son doesn’t tell me a thing, are the two of you planning on getting married?”

“Oh, umm.” Amelia blushed awkwardly shifting her son. “Not at the moment, we’re going to wait until things calm down a bit.”

“As long as it’s in the cards.”

“I think it will be.” The neurosurgeon smiled, thinking about Links plans to get married in the French Quarter of New Orleans.

________________________________________

Bailey had an hour break before his next Zoom started up, so Link took the opportunity to take him out on their daily walk and get his energy out around the block while he tried to lull his son. This time though his father tagged along, he still had a lot of resentment towards his parents but was trying his best to be civil.

“That kid almost has as much energy as you did before..” Eric trailed off, but Link knew what he meant. Before his cancer tore his family apart, and made him a shell of the kid he was,but he was determined to only talk about the good things.

“Yeah he keeps Amelia and I on our toes.” Link quickly said, so no talk of his cancer came up.

“I know your upset with your mother and I, but we just want to help. And rebuild our family.” The ortho surgeon did his best to not roll his eyes at the statement, he couldn’t understand why they couldn’t have worked it out in the first place, why they decided to track along across multiple states during a global pandemic, and why they had to keep freaking his girlfriend out with the concept of marriage.

“I really don’t have the energy to talk about this right now, why don’t we just change the subject.” Before Eric could agree his sons phone started to ring. “Crap this is the hospital, I’ve gotta go in. Bailey! We gotta get home” He called up ahead to the boy who was scootering.

“It’s alright I’ll keep walking with them.”

“You sure?” The man asked wearily.

“Of course you know me I love a good walk.” He took the baby out of his sons arms and Link wrapped the baby snug across the older mans chest.

“Thanks dad!” He smiled as he jogged back to the house to grab his car and head to the hospital, while Eric caught up along side of Bailey as he turned another corner.

________________________________________

After Amelia finished helping Ellis with her math homework she realized it had been well over an hour since the boys had gone for their walk it typically lasted 40 minutes and the house was wearily quiet. She made her way downstairs to be met with Maureen folding the pile of laundry.

“Oh I’m sorry, you don’t have to do that.”

“Please, I don’t mind.”

“Do you know where the boys are?” Amelia asked feeling her anxiety start to rise as there was no indication of them being home.

“I assume they’re still walking, they haven’t walked in yet.” The neurosurgeon pulled out her phone and tapped on her boyfriends contact to be met with a scrub nurse who informed her, he was in fact scrubbing in on an emergency surgery.

“Link is at work.” Amelia informed Maureen rather confused, Link always told her before he left the house, but assumed he was so excited by the notion of a surgery and left the boys with his father.

“I’ll try Eric.” Once the older woman dialed the number they heard ringing coming from the coffee table where he left his phone. “I’m always telling him he needs to carry his phone around, he’s terrible with remembering it.” The woman huffed obviously starting to get a little startled.

“Okay.” Amelia took a deep breath. “I’m going to go look for them, would you mind staying with the girls?”

“Not at all.”

“Thanks.” Amelia quickly made her way towards the door and grabbed her keys from the hook, noting her boyfriend failed to bring the diaper bag as it was next to the door. Nonetheless she got into her car and tried the best to calm herself down, though all she could think about were worst case scenarios.

______________________________________

“Do you have any idea where we are?” Eric asked Bailey as he walked beside him, the boy had gotten tired and now just tracked the scooter along side them.

“No we usually don’t go this far.” Baileys fearless persona faltering, he assumed by this point he was late for class and was going to be in big trouble with his aunt and teacher.

“Everything kinda looks the same huh?”

“Yeah.” Bailey nodded nervously biting his nail, a habit he’d recently picked up from his aunt.

“Hey bud, it’s going to be fine we’ll find our way home.” Internally he was cursing himself for not bringing his phone along with him. After some more walking they found themselves on a street with convenience stores, Merediths house wasn’t far from the heart of Seattle but they were definitely far from where they were supposed to be. He was tempted to walk into a store and ask someone for directions but he didn’t have a mask and had two small children so that wasn’t an option. “Alright, let’s go back to that last street and make a left, maybe that right was a bad idea.”

“We’ll never get home.” Bailey said hopelessly.

“We will don’t worry about it.” And if things couldn’t get any worse the baby had started to fuss which in no time would turn into fill on crying.

Amelia slowly drove through the neighborhood looking for the three, not knowing she was on the opposite part of the neighborhood from them. Meanwhile after aimlessly walking and multiple turns Bailey started to recognize where they were and lead the way home.

“Where the hell have you been?” Maureen immediately asked as they walked through the door taking the now crying baby from her fiancé. “You need to have your phone on you!”

“Just strolling.” Eric responded nonchalantly.

“No we were lost. Really lost.” Bailey corrected as he ran into the kitchen to find something to eat since he missed lunch. Maureen followed taking out a bottle for Scout and calling her daughter in law informing her they were home, she heard a large sigh of relief through the other line.

Amelia happened to pull into the driveway the same time as Link, she wiped her stray tears as she had gotten herself into such a state and slammed her car door.

“Hey, where were you?” The ortho surgeon smiled brightly, he had just completed a rather simple surgery but just being in the OR at any capacity was heaven.

“Where was I? I don’t know, where was I?” Amelia chuckled on disbelief. “Where the hell were you? I spent two hours driving around trying to find your father and the boys.”

“What they never came home?” Link asked in a panic.

“They just did. They were lost and struggled to find their way home so they were aimlessly walking around while I aimlessly drove around in the wrong direction.”

“Damn it, how could my dad do this?” The man ran a stressed hand through his hair.

“This isn’t your dads fault it’s yours!”

“Huh?”

“Oh don’t act stupid. First you don’t even take the diaper bag in the walk with all the essentials and a first aid kit and then you up and leave for a surgery without even texting me.” The man was about to interject but Amelia held up her hand. “And you let your father continue the walk, even though the man has been to Seattle like two times and doesn’t know his way around.”

“I thought they were just gonna go the rest of the way up the block and back, and that he’d tell you where I went. That’s what Bailey and I do everyday.”

“Have you been living with Bailey for the past four months? Or has it just been me? Bailey will just keep riding that scooter no matter what and go any which way paying no attention to his surroundings, of course Eric is just gonna follow him around since it probably seemed he knew where he was going. You know what I can’t even look at you, I don’t want to say something I’m going to regret.” Amelia walked past him and quickly made her way into the house, to be met with her sons cries and quickly took the baby from Maureen cradling him closely, the baby immediately calming.

“I am so so sorry Amelia.” Eric apologized obviously upset.

“It’s not your fault.” Amelia forcefully smiled, she wasn’t entirely mad at him mostly at her boyfriend. Link then walked through the front door to be met with his mother scolding him.

“And what the hell were you thinking? Not telling anyone you were going to the hospital, and leaving your father with two kids in a place that’s foreign to him. Is surgery really all you can think about?” For the past couple of months he’d been complaining to his mother how much he hated not being able to operate.

“She would’ve done the same thing.” Link quickly pointed to his girlfriend who was cradling their son in the couch.

“What are we five?” Amelia asked when her boyfriend accused her in such a manner. “And I would’ve had the decency to tell you I was leaving and made sure you had the kids handled before I left.” Link backtracked and took a deep breath.

“Alright how about we just take a moment, they’ve been found so it’s fine.” The tired mother rolled her eyes and walked up the stairs with her baby, not in the mood for her boyfriends best case scenario talk.

“This could have been prevented by the both of you.” Maureen pointed to the two men who’s heads hung in shame.

“You should’ve made it clear to your father it was just up the block and back, and you should’ve texted the mother of your child.” She then directed her attention towards her husband. “And you need to pay more attention and keep your phone on you.”

“Sorry.” The two men answered in unison, ashamed to have messed up so greatly.

_______________________________________

The rest of the night was foreignly quiet, Bailey was exhausted and the couple was avoiding one another. After everyone had dinner together Maureen and Eric retreated back to the RV and the kids were all tucked in their beds. Once Link walked into the bedroom after his shower he sighed realizing Amelia wasn’t there. He quietly trekked into the nursery to be met with Amelia asleep in the rocking chair and her hand inside the crib, their sons hand was loosely holding her index finger. He would’ve smiled at the sight of he didn’t know what she was doing, her plan was to sleep in here tonight to avoid having to be in the same bed as him. He carefully removed her hand and picked her up out of the chair.

“Nooo.” Amelia sleepily groaned. “I’m sleeping in here.”

“No you’re not, your going to sleep in our bed.” He softly affirmed as he laid her down on her side of the bed. Once he moved to the other side of the bed and got settled his girlfriend was now wide awake and turned to face him.

“What happened today can never ever happen again.”

“It won’t I promise.”

“You know we’re so good at communicating within our relationship but not so great outside of it.” Link chuckled nodding in agreement. “You need to tell me when you get called in, and you need to let others know what the plan is, so they’re not getting lost in Seattle woth two small children.”

“I promise.” Link grabbed her hand in a reassuring manner. “I am so so sorry for what happened today, I was just so excited to be operating and I just lost my mind and didn’t think about anything outside of that operation.”

“I know this is hard for you, your not used to kids in the capacity that I am. You didn’t grow up in a loud house and you don’t have a large quantity of nieces and nephews. Your used to dealing with the occasional peds patient for like twenty minutes. I’m not saying your bad with kids I mean the peds floor loves you, it’s just this is a lot really quickly and non stop.”

“Wow you just articulated how I feel perfectly and I haven’t been able to even form a cohesive thought of what Im feeling.”

“Hmm, maybe that’s because you just sleep so you don’t have to think about feelings.” Link chuckled, sliding over to kiss her sweetly.

“I love you.” Link affirmed. “And I’m so sorry about today.”

“Tomorrow will be better.” Amelia agreed. “And I love you even more.”

“Impossible.”

[hinatas-sunshine]

Request: It's 5:32 in the morning from where I am, so sorry for asking this early. How Kenma, Ushijama, and Tsukishima react to their s/o that just unintentionally roasting them, other people, and things? - @animmle

tiny a/n: thank you for the request! No matter how early or late I always appreciate them! 🤍 ~ this isn’t my best work but I couldn’t think of much :(

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None

Requests: Open!

✰ MASTERLIST ✰

☾ Tsukishima Kei ☾

• You knew walking into a relationship with him, let alone friendship, you had to have a thick skin

• What he didn’t know is how thick HIS skin had to be too

“I don’t know tsukishima maybe if you tried a little harder things would run smoother.”

• He knew you had no ill intentions though, especially by the way you kissed his nose and smiled at him

“Don’t kiss me it’s emba-“

“Finish that sentence. Do it. Finish that sentence.”

• Honestly you had to be the only person who tsukishima was intimidated by

“I’m not scared of you y/n.”

“I don’t expect you to be.”

“....Yeah why would I ever be scared of a small person. How silly of-“

“I’m not scared of you either, how could I be scared of a tall guy who doesn’t care about anything but music and school. Sounds nerdy to me.”

• You laughed lightly while he glared at you

“I’m only kidding!”

• Yeah he didn’t talk to you for a few hours after that-

• Your problems weren’t only with him though...no....

“Oh so the king is going ba-“

“Why are you roasting on kageyama? The boy can’t even talk to other people you think he cares what you think?”

• Tsukishima was cackling at this while Kageyama turned red in embarrassment

“Y-y/n you really just helped him and then k-killed him!”

“Huh?”

• Looking at Kageyama you automatically started apologizing

“I’m so sorry Kageyama! You’re amazing at volleyball, so it’s okay that maybe you prefer the game over the people! It’s not weird or anything!”

• As your boyfriend and Hinata’s cackling intensifies along with Kageyama’s red cheeks Daichi sighed pulling you away from the situation

• He doesn’t do anything to stop you from roasting other people and things he really just lets you continue

“I don’t know I don’t like this girl.”

“Why?”

“One time she told me she hated dogs. And if you hate dogs how are you even a tad bit trustworthy?”

“I’m right here?”

“Okay and I’ll say it again?”

• Now you were full on bickering with her 🙈

“You got yourself into that.”

“It’s not my fault she got all defensive.”

• when he confronted you about it-

“Y/n you have a big mouth.”

“I think it’s pretty normal sized if you ask me-“

• he laughed lightly watching you touch your pink lips and look confused

“No I mean, you offend people. And you don’t know when to stop.”

• You furrowed your eyebrows on confusion even more.

“Could you explain a little more?”

• Tsukishima sighed and sat with you on the floor next to your bed where you were studying, placing his face in the crook of your neck placing small innocent kisses on it

“I’ll explain another time.”

“Okay lazy bum.”

“See!”

“No I knew what I was saying.”

✰ Kenma Kozume ✰

• You’re terrible at keeping your comments to yourself and he knew this

• The thing is, he loved it.

• Was it ever too quiet for his liking there you were

“OH BROTHER, THIS PLACE STINKS.”

• Many people Kuroo thought it would’ve bothered him but the moment you say something it’s like he can’t help but smile

• It’s not that you were outgoing automatically, but you knew out of you and Kenma you had to be the talker and you knew this since you were younger

“Your hair is so long! I thought you were a girl..”

• Kenma hated you when you first met because of this

“But honestly you’d be prettier than half the girls here!”

• Yeah you were only making it worse

• But once he got over it, he saw you just had a big mouth and said whatever came to your mind

“I don’t know Kuroo, you sound very sus to me. I used to not trust you when we were younger.”

“What why?”

“You give off bad boy vibes, I guess In the end you were just a big nerd. What a plot twist in my opinion.”

• Kenma cackling while Kuroo tries to claim he is a bad boy

“It’s not a bad thing!”

“It’s not a good thing!”

• Kenma sees how honest you are and thinks everyone should have someone like you in their life

“Everyone needs a y/n in their life.”

“Really? That’s a first.”

• You laid your head on his lap while he smiled looking down at you, hair covering his face

“You have such a pretty face my love, you cat looking eyes top everything off.”

“I don’t have cat looking eyes?”

“Eh you do.”

• When he tried to confront you about how much you babble with no filter-

“Oh I know.”

“You know?”

“Yeah, but if I didn’t say what I was actually thinking- that’s just as bad as lying. No?”

• Kenma stared at you for a second

“Babe, your brain. It’s amazing.”

“I like to think it’s pink and cute but okay.”

• Kuroo, Yaku and Yamamoto don’t get you but the moment you met Lev-

“So you’re like the opposite of Hinata?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re tall, can’t seem to want to learn to play the sport, and you come off as intimidating.”

“SHE THINKS IM INTIMIDATING.”

“No...no more like you come off as stupid.”

“Kenma :(“

• Yeah Lev is the only one who doesn’t get offended by you because he focuses on the wrong things

“You’re so lanky and tall.”

“Am I really that tall?”

“Yeah.”

• Kenma hates your interactions with Lev because he thinks they’re not funny

“Don’t talk to her Lev.”

“Why?! Me and y/n are best friends!”

“No you’re not.”

“We aren’t but we can be aquatinted!”

“That sounds so much cooler suck it Kenma.”

• Yeah You were the reason everyone found out how dumb Lev was

✰ Ushijima Wakatoshi ✰

• He likes to think you’re as unfiltered as him

• But he also thinks you’re too unfiltered and it’s not that you unintentionally roast people you kind of expose them

• He also definitely saves you when you’re about to say something

“I don’t know your skirt seems kinda unflat-“

• Like then, he cupped a hand over your mouth and dragged you away without a word

• And that’s how you knew if you were saying something offensive, your boyfriend would cup his hand over your mouth and drag you away.

“I don’t know Tendou, you have creepy eye-“

*smack*

• You pouted before looking at your boyfriend

“I wasn’t finished! But I think it’s bad ass! I’d be intimidated if I didn’t know you were a crackhead!”

• Tendou was definitely your best friend and he eggs you on to say stuff you shouldn’t

“What do you think about Ushijima’s spikes today hmmmm?”

“I couldn’t focus I was too busy looking at those beefy ar-“

“THE SPIKES Y/N THE SPIKES!”

“OH yeah I mean not as strong as usu-“

“How can I fix them?”

• Every now and then you knew when to speak up and when to not, when it comes to volleyball you don’t because you’re not a pro?

• You managed to catch yourself sometimes but then you turn into an even worse babbling mess

“Semi you remind me so much of Sugawara from Karasuno, that guy. Such a good setter- NOT THAT YOU ARENT A GREAT PLAYER TOO! You’re an amazing player!-“

“Y/n I get it.”

• Ushijima gets entertained when you babble, he’s never seen anyone think as fast as you do in situations like this.

• He doesn’t ever think to confront you, mainly because he thinks it’s a cute quirk of yours and finds it somewhat entertaining

“Goshiki reminds me so much of Rock Lee. I can’t be the only one who sees it?”

• Tendou had a field day with this statement and Goshiki just didn’t know who Rock Lee was

“GOSHIKI IN A WHINEY VOICE SAY GAI SENSEI!”

• Ushijima just watches-

“No I asked Ushijima out and he turned so red I swear-“

“That’s enough talking.”

• He cupped his hand over your mouth and dragged you out while you waved bye 🧚🏻‍♀️✨

• You often almost exposed your boyfriend

“He sleeps with a volleyball night ligh-“

“He always asks me to pick out the pickles in his-“

“He hates when I hug a pillow instead of h-“

“He seems superior here but when it’s us it-“

• This is when Tendou and Semi rise and snatch you from him

“What were you saying y/n?”

“Yeah finish what you were saying about Wakatoshi~”

“Oh yeah!”

“No.”

• And there your boyfriend stood ready to take you away when-

“Ushijima has a bunch of you guys’ pictures framed! It’s really sweet!”

“Oh really?”

“Wakatoshi that’s so sweet!”

• You smiled at your boyfriend who looked at you and sighed

“You’re a hassle.”

“What how?”

“Y/n is an angel Wakatoshi!”

“Thank you Tendou.”

“I never said she wasn’t an angel, just a hassle.”

Tags:

[shhh-no-ones-home]

dinner and a gun show din djarin x reader

+++++++++

christmas request info can be found here

"In the heat of the moment, whether this is in the fight, chase, or the characters are under gunfire; they escape and get cover. However not all is well then Character A turns around to see Character B leaning heavily against a wall, clutching at their side. Character B slowly looks up  and shows a blood covered hand  before saying, "So, slight problem" before collapsing to the floor."

Song: upside down by set it off

tag list: @cynic-spirit

+++++++++

when we landed on this planet we didnt expect to find what we did. imperial troops were practically crawling through town like rats which only meant trouble. as we walked down the street din kept his hand at my back, the other against his gun holster and a watchful eye on the locals. i was just as on edge, fingers gripped tightly to my blaster as we entered the cantina, ducking past more soldiers in white.  

we both looked around for a second before choosing a table in the back, sitting and watching those around us intently. when the small woman approached us i could see him draw his weapon under the table. she wasnt a threat though, not like the troopers were, who guarded all the doors and entrances.

"ah, some new faces. refreshing."

she said with a smile and i titled my head, trying to figure her out.

"what can i get you two?"

i looked to din for a second then back to her.

"three entrees of tip-yip and rice, but we wont be staying to eat."

she eyed din before nodding.

"ill be right back."

i watched as din looked around the bar again.

"something is wrong."

he said, shifting in his seat. i looked to the troopers at the door, noticing them talking amongst each other as well as into their coms. i frowned.

"we need to get out of here as soon as possible."

i said, moving to stand. i halted when the woman came back, three leaf wrapped pouches tied together being placed onto the table top. we looked at each other like we'd both been caught with our hands in a sweets pot.

"thank you."

din said, sliding the large silver coins her direction. she nodded once, sliding them off the edge of the table and leaving.

"come on, im sure he's hungry."

i said, grabbing the pouches by the string and holding them to me. he holstered his blaster and stood up too, his hand making its way back to my lower back as we left, ducking past the troopers. as we walked through town i was getting more antsy, noticing more troopers talking on their coms and looking at us.

"do you think they know?"

i said quietly, not looking to din behind me.

"i dont know."

he said but i knew he was lying.

"should we run?"

i asked. we were so close to the edge of town. we just had to get through the trees to the clearing we had landed the razorcrest in.

"no, we dont want to tip them off."

i looked over as a few boarded speeders.

"you dont think their tipped off already?"

i said, nodding their way.

"yeah, youre right."

he said in defeat, drawing his blaster as we reached the gate.

"you ready?"

he asked, making his way to  my side and i nodded, grabbing my own blaster from my hip.

"hey!"

i heard from behind us, turning to see the trooper with his large blaster pointed to us.

"where is the child?"

he asked and i looked to mando before we both took off. as we ran there were blasts all around us, setting red rings through trees and singing edges of the tall grass.

"shit."

he grumbled as we ran. it wasnt far, but it was far enough.

"i would just like to go on record and say that this was your idea."

i said, holding the package closer to my body, shooting wildly behind me as we ran. din did the same, trying to keep pace beside me.

"if we make it out alive ill honor that claim."

he said, breathing heavily through his mask as we blasted again and again.

"good."

i said through a huff, truing to look at them on their speeders starting to gain on us. when i turned back around i could see the ship just ahead. i closed my eyes for a second, trying to inhale the warm air, not wanting it to be my last. when i opened them mando wasnt beside me anymore. i looked back as he lagged a little behind.

"keep up mando!"

i yelled, turning back to shoot at the perpetrators.

"i am."

he grumbled, firing back too.

"how did they even know it was us?"

i complained, turning forward again, trying to pick up the pace.

"someone must've tipped them off at the fueling station on the last planet. we arent exactly inconspicuous, even without the child."

he paused for a breath.

"you didnt tell anyone we were coming here did you?"

he accused, the two of us bobbing and weaving between the trees now as we got closer. i rolled my eyes.

"of course i didnt, im not an idiot. we have a child to keep safe after all."

i said, sliding behind a tree and using it as a shield to fire at the troopers and also so i could take a break from running. as i blasted i noticed him looking back.

"we have to get back to the razorcrest."

he said annoyed, turning and shooting at them too. i nodded in understanding before tossing him the food and taking off.

"cover me!"

i yelled, pulling my other blaster off my thigh, taking a few of them down. he shot after them, getting past me as we got closer and closer. when i turned to see how close, i noticed the child was standing there staring at us as the hatch opened. i could hear his little noises from where i was, even with the sound of gun fire. i inhaled deeply as i backed my way into the hull of the ship, closing the door behind me as din took off up the ladder. i stood there, gasping for a second, as the ship lifted off the ground. i was trying desperately to catch my breath. the baby stared up at me for a second and i almost laughed.

"youll eat good at least."

i said, off hand, hearing him babble at me.

"mando!"

i called as we entered hyper space. i watched as he descended back down the ladder, putting the pouches on the table. when he looked at me he paused.

"what? whats wrong?"

he asked, looking between me and the baby.

"we have a problem."

i said, pulling my hand away from my side. i was gushing blood, a projectile now stuck into my side.

"shit."

was all i heard before everything went black.

°°°°°°°°°

i faded in and out, barely blinking my eyes open as i laid there, the babys head just in the edge of my vision. i felt a quick sting before remembering what happened. my whole body hurt. i groaned.

"easy."

i heard din say before feeling pressure against my side. i winced in pain, closing my eyes tightly.

"get off."

i said, swatting at his hand as my head bobbed from side to side.

"youre not patched up yet."

he said, still working against my exposed torso.

"what happened?"

i said, my hands covering my eyes and rubbing them lightly.

"you were shot. with a tracker no less."

he said. i felt a sharp pain in my side, jolting me upright as he pulled it the rest of the way out of me, the barbs catching every muscle strand as it left my body.

"what in the force are you doing?!"

i yelled, holding my breath and falling back down against the floor, my hand moving to the hole in my side as i ground my teeth.

"we have to get rid of this or they'll find us anywhere in the galaxy."

he said as i stared at the ceiling. my breathing was heavy and uneven as he destroyed the beacon.

"move."

he demanded, shifting my hand back to the ground beside me. i closed my eyes again as he sprayed a liquid into my side. it was silent for a second and i was almost sure id died.

"i got this off a droid believe it or not."

he said lowly, taking my gaze from the ceiling. i sent him a raised brow but finally smiled.

"no more prejudices?"

i asked, watching his head shift. part of me hoped he found that humorous, but probably not.

"im working on it. but i got this bacta spray from one and so far its working in our favor."

i nodded slowly, looking back to the ceiling.

"it will take a few hours to heal, but hopefully it works."

then i felt the baby tugging at my hair, finally realizing it was him that was there and taking my attention. he cooed at me and i reached up to stroke his ear gently.

"hey kiddo."

i said and he leaned forward, wrapping his little arms around my head in a hug.

"mando,"

i said softly, feeling my eyelids heavy again.

"do you think we could take a day off? just one? thats all i ask."

i said with a sleepy smile and hearing him laugh, falling back against the wall as he moved to sit.

"probably not y/n."

i nodded, the baby standing back upright and moving around me to get to din.

"okay, just checking."

i ran my hand slowly up my stomach, hearing it gurgle.

"so..."

i said, looking to mando.

"did any of that tip-yip survive?"

i asked and he laughed, shaking his head before standing up and disappearing out of my field of view.

"always thinking about food, even on your death bed."

he said in a joking tone, walking back over to me and setting the unopened pouch beside me. i half rolled onto my unharmed side with a groan, looking up to him with a smile.

"at least you know where my priorities lie."

[maarmendes]

Chapter 3: Alliance [I]

Warnings: Swearing, fighting, mental illness... (the main characters are pretty rough around the edges)

Genre: OC insertion; angst; fluff.

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x OC [Anahita Shuzenji]

Word Count: 2949

Tags: @bnhabookclub​

[Wattpad Link]

"Ana! Breakfast's ready!"

My grandma yelled out but I refused to get out from under the covers. After a good night's sleep, my fight with Bakugo seemed dumber than ever. It was none of my business, but once again I overstepped and did something stupid. I curled myself up into a ball and sighed, regretting how embarrassing this whole mess became. That's what I get for trying to fight fire with fire.

"Anahita Shuzenji! I've called you once already!" The old woman barged into my room. "Why are you still in bed? You haven't been staying up late again have you?!" I felt her poke me with her walking stick.

"I'm never going to school ever again." I pulled the covers tighter over me. "Just let me die here and then bury me in some unmarked grave in the woods or something." That won me a cane beating. She wouldn't hurt me but she did annoy me into getting up.

"Stop that, old hag! I was joking! I still won't go to school though."

"Fine." She sat next to me. "I know what this is about. Shota told me what happened with that boy and said he talked some sense into you. Do you want to talk about it with me? Maybe I can help."

Granny patted my head lovingly and my pride broke down. Since my mom's death, we promised to trust each other with everything. After all, we were all the family we had left. And so, I told her about the fight, about Bakugo and Midoriya, about what I said before and during my apology. She scolded me for wasting candy but still found it funny, no matter how embarrassed I was. She held my hand while she listened to me and I told her how much I regretted it. I knew it wasn't my place to scold him, I wasn't the perfect example of a stable person either, and it was none of my business anyway.

"You're right, you shouldn't have involved yourself." I frowned, looking down in shame. "But you did well in defending that child. It's the third day of school and he has spent more time with me than in class! His master already got an earful from me." I cocked a brow at the mention of a master but she shrugged me off and sighed. "You should try to apologize properly today and apologize for butting in where you're obviously not welcomed. Now, get up and get ready! The food's getting cold." With a pat on my cheek, she hopped down the bed.

"Oh, I almost forgot! Shota and I will be out for the day. Something about representing the U.A., probably something boring. He said you had someone who can walk you home, will you be alright?"

"It's okay, Nana. I'll be fine, promise!" I sent her off with a smile as she left me to get ready.

I was more than fine. With Aizawa and Granny out for the day, I could resume my plans. It was the perfect opening! Going to school was no longer an issue for me, the good news had revived my motivation and blew Bakugo out of my mind. He was an issue I could deal with later. I could apologize at any time, but I couldn't get rid of Aizawa that easily. I refuse to waste this opportunity.

Getting to class, there were only a few students around. I spotted Blasty at his seat, his red-haired friend telling him and some other blond guy something he was excited about. I tried to ignore him as much as possible. I knew I had to apologize sooner or later, but I had other things in mind right now. Sitting at my desk I pulled out my phone. The night of the accident, I was following a lead about a bar downtown looking for part-timers. Rumor has it that's a villain hanging spot where all kinds of shady deals go down... And it's the perfect spot to gather information. Thankfully, the ad for a part-time job at the bar was still up and I was about to answer it when someone calls out to me.

"Good morning, Shuzenji!"

"'Morning, Midoriya. You can call me Ana, you know?"

"O-oh, sorry. You can call me Deku then!" His awkward smile made me chuckle.

"How are you doing? Nana is out of campus for today but I can help you if you need anything."

"Oh, no need! I'm fine, really, you already helped enough. I actually wanted to thank you..." The boy rubbed the back of his neck and I couldn't help but feel guilty.

"It's okay, really! Actually, I... I want to apologize." I looked away from him. He babbled frantically trying to reassure me I did nothing wrong but I didn't pay attention. "Listen, I yelled at Bakugo for hurting you... And I feel like I was out of line and shouldn't have butted in between you two... Well, I'm partially sorry. I'm not sorry I told him not to be a dick and to stop hurting people." That remark earned me a chuckle from the cute boy.

"Kacchan and I... It's complicated. But you were trying to protect me, right? I don't think you should apologize for that." I gave him a worried smile at the adorable nickname he gave that dickhead. "Ah! My mom baked cookies yesterday, I brought some for you and Recovery Girl. I'm sorry for the trouble I've been causing..." He offered with a shy smile.

"Oh, Deku... You're no trouble at all!" I tried my best to hold back but I couldn't help myself and ended up pulling the boy into a tight hug, to which he winced in pain. After a couple of apologies and a few laughs, we agreed we should stop being so apologetic.

"Damn, Ana!" Mina wrapped her arm around my neck. "You threw yourself right in! Didn't think you liked them quiet."

"What? No! It's not like that!" I stumbled, trying to find the right words. "I'm so sorry, Deku! I'm just so used to getting close to people..." There was no way for me to hide my embarrassment or Mina's laughter.

"Ignore her. She's just trying to tease you too!" Jirou chimed in, pinching Mina's cheek.

We settled into a nice conversation until the bell rang for the beginning of the first period. Besides the occasional conversation with Deku or some of the girls, I kept my distance throughout the day. I was still sore from 'the Blasty Issue', and I'd rather be left alone than screw up again. No offense to my classmates who were always welcoming and inclusive, but I couldn't take any more distractions. The week I spent without training had already left me behind and I couldn't afford any more mistakes, not when I had such a good chance.

I tried finding a secluded place to eat during lunch so I could do some research and check out what I was getting myself into. I tried the library but the lady had already kicked me out for eating there before. I'd tried the roof but, as expected, it was filled with students I'd rather have nothing to do with. Besides, Bakugo would follow me everywhere I go. Even if I lost him in the hall, when I looked back he was there. He kept following me but never approached me. It was starting to get on my nerves, so I thought out a plan. I took a sharp turn at the end of the hall and ran quickly to hide in the girl's bathroom. No matter how sad it felt to eat a sandwich in the bathroom, he would never follow me here. Hopefully, no one would find me here, it'd be really embarrassing to be caught eating lunch in the bathroom. All hope was lost when I heard someone opening the door. Hiding in a stall wasn't ideal, but there was no way I'd let Bakugo find me that easily.

"I know! It's so unfair." I heard a girl whine. "We've been trying our best to get into the hero department, studying and taking tests, and some stupid bitch gets randomly transferred? Pathetic." She scoffed.

"I heard she's some pro hero's relative. I guess even U.A. can be bought into letting low-lives with no talent in, huh?" Another girl added.

"Yeah, she's that nurse's granddaughter. How can a stupid healer even be a hero? What can she do? Heal villains to death? I bet that's why her grandma ended up working here." A third girl mocked and they all let out the most annoying laughs I'd ever heard.

I wasn't known for keeping my cool and that would show well at this moment. It's not them insulting me that pissed me off. Sure, my pride was hurt but I did get transferred under 'special circumstances' so they weren't wrong. But, insulting my grandma?

Kicking the door open I step out to confront the now quiet girls.

"What? What's your problem?!" All three glared at me but I stood my ground.

"Wanna talk shit? Say it to my face." I took another bite of my sandwich as I waited for their retort, to which they laughed.

"You're the transfer student?" The pink-haired girl mocked between laughs. "They really do let anyone into 1-A, huh? How do you get into the class if you can't reach the doorknob?"

"That's all you got? Weak shit." Keeping a straight face I savored another bite. They finally got their game faces on.

"What did you say?" The middle one got closer and I assumed she'd be the supreme dumb ass of the group. "You think just because you cheated your way up you suddenly become some hot shit?!"

Suddenly something cold rains down my body. The blue bitch had her hands out, a smirk on her stupid face as the idiots laughed at my drenched look. I did say insults don't get me, but controlling toilet water and dumping it on me? Oh, that rubbed me just the right way.

The bullies kept laughing as I jumped up and hit my knee on the girl's nose, hearing a clear crack. They went quiet, watching her friend fall on her back. I threw my soggy sandwich on her face.

"You caught me in a bad mood, Sewer Hands."

Before any of them could retort, my fist hit another girl's face throwing her against the wall. Her friend tried to grab onto me, but she couldn't hold me down and ended up being thrown over my shoulder and out the bathroom. Turning back to the reason I wasn't eating my lunch anymore I see her trying to get out, holding onto her friend.

"What? Play time's over, huh?!" I catch up to them in the thankfully empty hall. Grabbing the girl - whose nose was still bleeding - by the shirt, I push her back on the floor as I stood over her.

"You're out of luck, Toilet Water. I was in need of some stretching." I got on top of her grabbing her by the tie and glared right into her eyes. "You really, really pissed me off."

I threw my arm back, ready to show them exactly what got me into 1-A, when someone gets a strong grasp on my wrist and pulls me off the whimpering girl by the waist. My instinct to fight kicked in and I dug my heels on the ground and used my free arm to elbow them in the ribs, earning my freedom. Grabbing onto their arm, I use my momentum to throw my attacker onto the floor, stepping on their chest to keep them down.

"God- FUCK! What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" A familiar rough voice yelled up at me.

"Bakugo! I'm sorry, I didn't know! I- I didn't-" Getting off him, I offer a hand to help him up.

"Fucking hell, Shortie! How did you do that?!" He rubbed his head and I assumed he hit it pretty hard when I threw him down. "I gotta admit, you got some spunk, pipsqueak."

"I'm going to assume you're fine then."

Waving all the worry away, I turned to see the group of girls stumbling down the hall, helping each other run away. Scoffing I swatted a few wet bangs off my face. All of a sudden, something warm is draped over my shoulders and I look over to see Bakugo placing his jacket around me.

"You're wet. Did they do this to you?" He glared down the hall, but the bullies were long gone. I shoved him away and threw his jacket back to him.

"It's none of your business. I can handle myself."

"It is my business! I'm supposed to keep an eye on you remember?!" He threw his jacket back at me.

"Yeah, I know! I know I'm like some stupid assignment you gotta deal with but don't worry. I don't plan on telling Aizawa about this." I shoved his jacket right back.

"What the fuck are you talking about?! I'm trying to help you!" He shoved it back.

"Why?! It's not like you fucking care!" I snapped at him, throwing his jacket in his face.

"BECAUSE, I'M SORRY OK?!" He threw it back in my face and I froze, peeking at him from under the jacket. "I fucked up and pissed you off and I'm sorry okay?! Just let me help, you dumb idiot!"

He grunted in frustration and I watched him shift in place, obviously uncomfortable. It was clear how hard it was for him to talk about these things... But he tried, and I couldn't blame him for trying his best to make things right. Sighing I gave in and slid into his jacket.

"Your jacket smells like caramel. I like it." He rolled his eyes and scoffed at me, ready to retort but I stopped him. "I'm sorry too. We were both rude, but I was worse..." I looked down at my feet. "I butted in on something that had nothing to do with me, and I even said really mean stuff... I'm really sorry... But even if I don't know what's up between you two, it's not okay to hurt someone like that. Friend or foe. Don't hurt people like that, please."

I looked back up to him in time to see his expression soften and his fist unclench. With a sigh, he nodded.

"I'll try my best." He rubbed the back of his neck.

"Guess I will too since I've just beaten up a bunch of bitches in the bathroom. And lost my sandwich." I frowned.

"We'll get you something to eat, but first you should change. You smell." I punched his shoulder.

"I don't know what you're talking about, all I can smell is caramel!"

"Will you shut up?! Do you know how uncool it sounds when you keep announcing what I smell like?! It's fucking weird!" Bakugo complained as we made our way down the hall.

"But I like it! It's comforting." I nuzzled deeper into his jacket and pouted up at his flustered face. That was a first for him and I tried my best to burn it in my memory as it seemed it wouldn't be a common occurrence.

Bakugo guided me to the girl's locker room, where I quickly cleaned off and changed into my gym uniform. I hated walking around with my hair down. I liked how long it was no matter how annoying it was to keep it in place, so I usually tie it up. But since it was still damp from the shower, I had no choice. Walking out, Bakugo was still waiting for me.

"Worried I might get bullied again?" I smirked throwing him his jacket.

"More like worried you might bully someone again." He scoffed. "You're a feisty one though, aren't you? First, you cuss me out. Then, you get yourself in a three on one fight. Are you trying to beat me at my own game, pipsqueak?" He looked somewhat proud as he ruffled my hair.

"Hands off, jackass!" I swat his hand away. "This mess is hard enough to keep without your help."

"Messiness suits you though." Bakugo flashed a rare smile, turning me into a flustered mess.

"Whatever, Sweat Stain. I'm starving!" I shoved him, walking faster.

I shrugged the feeling of wanting to see him smile more away and started making my way back to class. I finally apologized to him but it didn't mean I had plans to get close to him. Our relationship was already upsetting enough, especially considering I had to find a way to fool him into letting me walk home alone today. As per Aizawa's instructions, he had to leave me with some kind of supervision, such as Aizawa or Nana. Thankfully, once the last bell rang Kirishima and Kaminari were on Bakugo, trying to convince him to go somewhere with them, which I took as the perfect chance to get him off my case.

"Bakugo, I'm headed to Aizawa's office now! You should hang out with your friends!" I called out over my shoulder, smiling and waving as I made my way out of the room. I heard him scream out to me but ignored him.

I made my way out the school as naturally as possible, with a book open in front of my face to avoid getting caught on camera. Not tying my hair up actually worked to my advantage in not being recognized. Once far enough to not be caught by U.A's security system, I declared my plan in motion.  

It's go time.

[NEXT CHAPTER]

[imyourliquor-youremypoison]

A Girl’s Best Friend (Peter Parker x OC) - Part 1

Synopsis: Diamonds are man’s best friend- or dogs are girls’ best friends, wait... how does the saying go again?

Warnings: Family issues; Peter has a crush and it’s complicated; mention of assault; good dogs; College AU; aged up! characters; TONY STARK IS ALIVE AND WE ALL LIVE IN A HAPPY PLACE CALLED DENIAL

A/N: In this story, Peter has Tom’s dog, Tessa.

Word count: 1.5k

>>> Part 2

MASTERLIST

                Today was blood donation day, the Red Cross invested one of the faculty’s buildings this morning, turning it into a momentary blood bank. About half the student body decided to do the right thing and donate, and so the line was longer than the meet’n’greet line at the San Diego Comic Con Peter attended last year.

                And he couldn’t even donate his blood! Unless he wanted to have a Spider-Sidekick turn up one day, Tony had strongly advised him to stay clear of needles outside of his lab. No, Peter Parker stood in this endless line to keep company to Ned, who was afraid of needles but wanted to donate still because he had told a girl he liked that he would.

                Peter was half convinced they would still be standing there tomorrow. He should have brought a tent and something to eat. A least something to do. Luckily Ned nervous-babbled to keep his mind busy, or Peter might have fallen asleep while standing – last night’s mission had lasted longer than planned and he hadn’t had as much sleep as a college student would hope for.

“Hey, it’s my turn next,” Ned told him, nudging him in the ribs and waking Peter from his little snooze.

                And sure enough, they stood right next to the doctor’s little desk. Five doctors had set up their desks behind large panels as if those guaranteed any intimacy at all. Peter recognized the girl sitting in the chair at the nearest desk as one of his fellow classmates. He only knew her first name, or rather, her nickname. She didn’t look like she had any close friends, but most people called her Em. So, Emily, or Emma, he guessed.

                He briefly wondered why this girl always kept to herself. She was always well put together, he had never heard her say something off, she didn’t smell weird, and he had no reason to think she wasn’t intelligent. Then again, she must have her reasons, and whatever they were, they were none of his business.

                Okay, so, maybe he did notice her because he thought she was pretty, but that was it, and it still didn’t make it his business.

                A part of him knew it wasn’t nice to eavesdrop, but Peter was bored out of his mind and he had no ill intention, it was just plain curiosity. Ned had finally stopped talking his ears off, therefore nothing stopped him from listening.

“Name and date of birth please,” the doctor asked, his voice as toneless as expected after a day of saying the same thing over and over again.

“Emmeline Gerard, April 1st 1996,” she answered just as flatly.

                Not Emily or Emma then, well… Peter didn’t think too hard about it, but the doctor seemed to pause and the young woman momentarily gained his full attention as his eyes switched between her and the application form in his hand.

“Yes, I’m his daughter,” she snapped, clearly having been there and done that before.

The doctor hadn’t even asked anything, but Peter guessed the question was obvious – the man must know her father, whoever he was. A fellow practitioner maybe? He didn’t even know why he cared, but this was the most thrilling interaction he had witnessed today.

The doctor shook his head and resumed his questions.

“Did you eat and drink something before coming? Do you feel ready to donate blood?”

                Peter’s attention dwindled from then on, until she was almost done.

“Any medical history in your family?”

“I wouldn’t know, I’ve never met them,” she quipped, sending the old man a clipped smile that showed nothing but restrained annoyance. “I’m adopted.”

                Upon hearing that, Peter turned cherry red. He shouldn’t have been listening in on that doctor-patient conversation. Yet, he felt oddly drawn to her after hearing that she was an orphan like him. Sure, she had been adopted and her father was apparently someone of importance, but still, it tugged at Peter’s heartstrings.

                 Her one on one with the doctor quickly came to an end, but he didn’t let her go without a final word.

“Please tell your father I wish him the best of luck for the election to come!” he called just as the young woman grabbed her bag and stood up to leave.

                She froze, put her bag on her shoulder, clutching at the strap so hard Peter thought she must have been picturing the doctor’s neck in its stead, and she smiled. The smile was wrong, it had something off.

“I will. Good day, doctor.”

                Peter knew, by the sound of her voice and the way her smile immediately dropped when she turned around, that she would never, not even in a million years, tell her father. She walked around the panel and nearly bumped right into him.

“Oh, sorry, I-“ Peter started, feeling as though he had been caught red handed doing something bad. This was the first time he even opened his mouth in her presence.

“Oh great! You heard everything, now didn’t you?!” she snapped, clearly mad though he wasn’t convinced it was entirely his fault. That conversation must have rubbed her the wrong way. “God fucking dammit,” she cursed. “Well, go on, it’s your turn!”

                She stood slightly aside to tell him in so she could walk out but Peter only stood there awkwardly, hands in his pockets.

“I-I’m not donating, I’m just here with-“ He had barely gestured towards Ned, who now watched the two, before she cut him off.

“Even better! Out of my way, then.”

She pushed him aside, elbowing her way out of the little crowd that had formed around the door so she could go to the next stall where she’d finally make that donation, now that all the formalities were over.

“Who was that?” Ned asked Peter, watching the enraged girl stride away, her angry vibes making people step out of her way.

“Emmeline Gerard,” Peter answered offhandedly, eyes not leaving her form until she was out of sight. Ned simply frowned because her name meant nothing to him, but he didn’t get the time to ask any further questions.

“Next!” the doctor called, and Ned stepped in, leaving Peter to stand in the hallway with the hundred other people waiting there.

                He made a mental note to look her up tonight.

  *

  “Can you believe this? I can’t even talk to a doctor without hearing about my father!” she ranted, making angry hand gestures while Bella watched on, titling her head to the left. “You’d think a doctor would be a little more professional than that! Bringing politics into a medical consultation, ugh!” she groaned, finally seeming to calm down a little.

                She had been chewing on her tongue all day, biting off harsh remarks whenever somebody dared look her way. That poor boy she lashed out on this morning! He looked vaguely familiar; she must have a class with him – she would have to apologize if she saw him then.

“I just-“ she started, glancing at Bella who walked beside her. “I’m so sick of only being somebody’s daughter.”

                Bella’s ears perked up and she looked up at Emmeline, her big brown eyes full of questions.

“Of course, you don’t understand my problems, do you?” She knelt down and scratched Bella’s ears, watching her tail wag now that she had her owner’s full attention. “Your only concern in life is when you’ll next have to go to the vet.”

                The sun was setting now, the last orange rays filtering between New York City’s buildings. Her walks in Central Park with Bella were supposed to be a moment of relaxation – not a moment to scare the kids hanging there with her grumbling. Most must think her crazy for ranting at her dog.

                But Bella didn’t mind – at least Emmeline thought so – and she couldn’t give less of a crap what people thought of her. Her father would; in fact, her father gave many craps what people thought of him and, by extension, his family. Emmeline had never liked the word family, it just never made sense to her. She was born and immediately abandoned and then she was placed into the arms of another set of parents whose love never left right.

“Thank you for listening, Bel,” she told the happy dog who waited for her to unhook the leash so she could run around for a bit.

                Pitbulls were considered dangerous dogs and Bella had to wear a muzzle every time they went out – it broke Emmeline’s heart but it was the law. She couldn’t play fetch with her like this, but at least she could play with other dogs in the park. A lot of them already knew each other, and Emmeline waved at an old lady who walked her labradoodle, Sir Henry.

                She watched them run in circles for a while.

“I can’t speak about this with anyone else,” she muttered to herself, eyes never leaving her dog. “Who would pity the beloved mayor of New York’s daughter? I’m supposed to be the luckiest girl in the city.”

.

.

.

Reblog to save a writer

Comment if you wanna be tagged!

[saadiestuff]

This is Going to Hurt (prompt - Malex)

Here’s my first answer to the prompts I received last week after putting out the call! Thank you all for the lovely prompts - I’m working on them, but work is annoying and busy so it takes some time. Also this turned out longer than I intended for these prompty things!

Prompt #22 “This is going to hurt” - from anon

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, mentions of alien torture, happy ending

“This is going to hurt,” Kyle warns Michael, like he's not already been writhing in intermittent pain the last half hour, though Kyle's only been present for the last five minutes.

“Just hurry up!” Michael groans at him, “I could have had this out--”

“I told you,” Kyle starts repeating what he’d said on the phone when Michael and Liz had called him for help, “If you move the bullet out with your mind and don’t follow the exact same path it went in, you could do more damage; damage I may not be able to fix without a proper O-R and team of doctors!"

Michael can only whimper in protest, his eyes going wide as Kyle nears with sharp, shiny, medical instruments.

“It’s going to hurt,” Kyle says again, “but not nearly as much as that bullet seems to be hurting you when you use your powers, okay?”

“You’re going to be alright Mikey,” Liz says soothingly, rubbing his shoulder, “Try to stay calm and still,” she continues, stating the obvious, but feeling it needs to be said for how sweaty Michael is getting, and the frequency with which he’s quivering under the palm of her hand. She glances nervously at Kyle.

Kyle gets the hint. “Rosa, maybe you could help us out over here for a minute… How’s Isobel doing?”

“Still breathing the way you said she should be, pulse the same - still out cold,” Rosa says from across the bunker.

“Okay, good, come over here, help Liz…” hold him down, “...keep Michael distracted…”

It does not go well.

The second Kyle’s instruments touch Michael, he feels his barely-there grip on his powers begin to slip away, and at the first hint of pain Kyle causes, he loses it. Liz, Rosa, and Kyle end up tossed on the ground.

And that only causes Michael more pain.

It’s blinding, worse than the last hit - he's screaming so loud he can’t hear himself. As that pain triggers his powers again , something shatters across the room. Michael scrambles desperately to get a hold of himself before it snowballs too far - before he’s lost forever in this vicious cycle until put out of his misery.

But he can’t breathe for how much it hurts, pain radiating from the bullet to the tips of his fingers, toes, ears - for the feeling of his world closing in on him, his powers causing such anguish - a deep betrayal. It’s different than all the times they’d made him feel like death and puke. No, this, this is forming new pathways, new connections in his brain that make him feel sick with loss in way he doesn’t have the strength to examine now. Powers equal pain.

“NO!” Michael shouts at the invisible enemy, wracking his whole body with the effort.

“Michael, you need to breathe!” Liz calls out, having gotten up off the floor and taken a step towards him.

“Don’t!” Michael whines to keep her away as he curls in on himself. Under the fog of pain and his tenuous hold on control, he subconsciously contemplates rolling off the table, because much as that would hurt, he really doesn’t want to be splayed out on a fucking table right now, especially with Kyle’s shiny tools aimed at him.

Kyle groans on the ground, having been thrown the hardest. Rosa offers him a hand up.

Kyle shakes his head, “I need a minute,” he says a little hoarsely, “but bring me a phone.”

Liz knows who Kyle is calling. There is only one other person on their side who knows about aliens and who isn’t currently present in the bunker or dead in a pod.

“Are you sure?” Liz asks quietly, turning away from Michael, “He’s still pretty upset at Michael I think…”

“I know. Who do you think he vented to,” cried to, at least twice, “while Michael and Maria were together?”

“But then... is Alex going to make him calm, or worse?” Rosa asks, handing him her phone she'd retrieved.

“They have a connection, Alex was always babbling about it,” Kyle explains. He's only flippant to diminish the weight of what isn't his to tell.

“He’ll calm him,” Liz says knowingly in answer to Rosa’s question, while feeling a sharp pang of loss for Max.

“Manes, pick up your damn phone,” Kyle hisses as the line rings, then, “Alex! Listen, Liz, Isobel, and Michael were doing some investigating of their own and got into some trouble with a recon. Michael got shot with a-- yes he’s-- the bunker-- Michael’s bunker. We need--” Click.

"Did he hang up on you?" Rosa asks.

"He’s coming,” Liz and Kyle say together.

Alex opens the lid of the bunker to Michael’s choked-off yelling. He half falls down the ladder in his rush to get in, close the lid, and get down.

"I gotta! I can't take it! I'm doing it myself!"

"No! Guerin-- Michael, listen to me! You have to let me do it!” Kyle pleads from several feet away, afraid to set Michael off again.

“What the hell is going on?” Alex shouts as he turns into the room, spotting Michael, blood pooling at his side on the table, gripping the edge of it, puke on the ground below.

“Alex?” Michael croaks out questioningly between panting breaths.

Alex is at his side in seconds. He finds Liz smoothly tucking a chair under him as he crouches to Michael’s eye level.

“Hey, hey,” Alex says softly, one hand going to stroke Michael’s hair, the other taking a white-knuckled hand from the table’s edge into its grasp, “I’m here. You’re okay.”

“Alex--” Michael starts.

“Shh,” Alex hums, and dips to kiss Michael’s forehead, “Someone else can fill me in, huh? Just breathe. You’re going to be fine. Right?” he quickly looks over his shoulder to Kyle for reassurance. He's scared. Michael looks really bad, can't seem to stop shaking, and Alex gets the impression Michael is about ready to crawl out of his skin.

“I haven’t been able to get a great look, but if he’ll let me take that bullet out - the way it came in - and stop the blood loss soon, I think he’ll be fine even without a hospital.”

“Good, that’s good,” Alex says, really to himself, but his concern only grows, “Then what are you waiting for?” Surely they hadn’t been waiting for him to arrive. Alex knows Michael can take some pain, and Alex hadn’t been around to see him through most of it. Michael certainly doesn’t need Alex to hold his hand to get a bullet taken out of his side.

“We tried already, just before calling you. He threw us all onto the floor,” Liz explains.

“Okay… well, did you give him some acetone? Help with the control and the pain?” Alex suggests.

“Of course, but it’s not that simple,” Kyle explains, shaking his head, “He’s freaking out, Alex - the bullet is some kind of smart bullet? Like a shock collar for alien powers.”

“What?” Alex says, eyes wide.

“It seems to cause him pain every time he uses his powers. Then the pain - it's intense enough to trigger him to lash out with his powers again - an involuntary survival instinct I guess?”

Alex shudders, swallowing hard. He has to wonder if Michael wants him anywhere near him, even though Michael is clinging to him like the last port in a storm, because no doubt this fancy bullet torturing him is something his father cooked up - his brothers even. Alex feels ill at the thought, but he buries it - the last thing they need is another one of them throwing up. Rosa is looking a little green over the blood as it is.

“He's gotten caught in it three times already. First when he used his powers to move Isobel and get us into the bunker. Then when Kyle tried to get the bullet out,” Liz explains.

"And just before Kyle got here he lost it out of nowhere," Rosa adds.

“Alex," Kyle says, gulping, "I don't know if he has it in him to pull out of the cycle another time… If he gets trapped in it..."

“We should-- We should take him to a pod while we--” Alex’s mind reels for solutions, and finally, frustrated, he snaps, “Why didn’t you take him straight into a pod until we could figure this out?”

“He was fine until-- well, shot and bleeding a little, but fine, until we got here and he went to move Isobel and the airstream,” Liz tells him, “But I don’t know if we can move him now without setting him off.”

“Not an option. We need to do this now. The blood loss is getting too bad and we can only transfuse so much from Isobel. You said she’s a match Liz?”

“If my alien blood typing is right?”

“And what’s wrong with Isobel?” Alex asks, realizing he hasn’t even been brought fully up to speed, “What were you even doing?”

“We were trying to get our hands on some research, hoping it would help Isobel and Michael figure out how heal like Max, so they could bring him back,” Liz looks ashamed, feeling it’s her fault, though in truth she knows Isobel and Michael would have done it with or without her, “And Isobel, she had to mess with a lot of people’s mind to get us out safely when it went wrong. After a lot of vomiting she passed out cold.”

Alex shakes his head, because none of that information helps Michael right now. He turns his attention back to him, stroking over his face, then back into his hair.

"Michael, Michael, look at me, you're going to let Kyle take it out. You're going to take a deep breath and hold it, and you're going to squeeze my hand, and focus on my voice, and not use your powers.”

“I can’t-- I don’t-- have-- control--” Michael sobs out.

“You can. You just have hang on for two minutes while he takes it out, okay?" Alex promises him.

"I might need more--" Kyle starts, but, Alex shoots him a look over his shoulder that shuts him up.

“And it's going to feel so much better when it's out. Then it’s just a regular old flesh wound needing some stitches, right?" Alex soothes.

Michael shakes his head. “Knock me out," he whimpers, “Please.”

"I don’t know if the sedative I have would work. And between the blood loss and your alien biology it could be dangerous without monitoring--"

"Hit me-- over the head,” Michael rasps out.

"No!" Alex and Kyle say in unison.

Michael groans, resigned, and pulls Alex’s hand closer to his chest.

“Valenti, do it,” Alex orders.

“Alex... you need to keep him from--”

“I’ve got it,” Alex assures him, though he’s not so sure himself. Michael is strong, but he must feel so trapped, and there's only so much Alex can do to help him through.

“Should we help?” Liz asks.

“No, I think-- I think give us space,” Alex says.

“Roll back on your stomach Guerin,” Kyle instructs.

Michael moves gingerly - Alex helps him. They arrange themselves so Michael is gripping Alex’s left hand in his, while Alex’s right hand dances from Michael’s shoulder blades, over his neck, then dragging into his hair, over and over, with his face hovering close to Michael’s.

"I can't take more," Michael sniffles out quietly, so only Alex can hear.

"I know, I know," Alex whispers back, "But you've gotta keep holding on for me, alright? You're doing so good."

They succeed, but just barely. In the end, Michael has done more damage to the bunker, he’s screamed enough to wake Isobel, Alex is in tears, and Kyle ends up knocked on his ass again - but with the bullet safely in hand.

After getting through the stitches, they all head to Alex’s cabin for much needed rest, and to monitor Isobel and Michael closely.

“Presumptuous of Kyle to put me in your room,” Michael says from Alex’s bed when Alex appears in the doorway, Michael's blood freshly showered off him.

Alex huffs a nervous laugh, “Yeah. Um, do you want me to stay or…”

“Stay,” Michael stays without hesitation, then adds, “I mean, if you want…”

Alex bites his lip as he steps into the room and turns to close the door. Michael beats him to it.

Tears burn in Michael’s eyes to find that using his powers doesn’t cause him excruciating pain. Though logically he’d known the bullet was gone, he’d been waiting to screw up his courage to test it out. He’d been waiting for Alex to be near, just in case.

Alex gives Michael space to settle into his relief, which is palpable from across the room. Alex makes his way around the bedroom slowly, in silence, as he changes into pajamas and takes off his prosthetic. Only then does he lie down next to Michael.

“I hope these aren’t your favourite PJs,” Michael says, gesturing to the borrowed garments he’s wearing, “I may bleed on them.”

“It’s fine,” Alex says, taking a deep breath and letting it out as he rolls closer, onto his side, “I want to kiss you, but I understand if--”

Michael puts a finger to Alex’s lips to hush him. “You didn’t make those bullets. You didn’t torture my family.”

Alex takes Michael’s hand and moves it away. “Maybe I would have, if my father didn’t hate me. If he’d brought me into his work, told me aliens were dangerous--”

“No--”

“I’m capable of things Michael,” Alex admits, flopping onto his back and staring at the ceiling, “Things that--”

“Alex, stop,” Michael pleads, turning his head to the side to watch Alex, wanting to move off his back, to close the distance between them, real and imagined, but it hurts to shift. The best he can manage is to sling his arm out for his knuckles to brush up and down over Alex’s chest.

“I can’t ever make it right,” Alex says softly, a tear rolling down his cheek as he catches Michael’s hand in his and holds it against his heart.

“Listen to me. You are not your father. And I'm saying that even while I can still feel the ache from that bullet in every inch of my body, knowing that it’s hardly a fraction of what your father probably put my mother through, for years. No, you’re the man who held me, who talked me through something I thought was impossible, who cried because I was in pain. And did all of that even though you’re probably still pissed at me and have every right to be.”

It feels wrong for Michael to be the one comforting him in this moment. Alex wipes his hand over his face, and sniffling, pulls it together, managing to meet Michael with a smile when he rolls over and into him, claiming his lips in a softly desperate kiss. It’s been many long months.

“Is this--” Michael stutters out between kisses.

Alex stops and pulls back an inch.

“Is this just…” Michael gulps, “I-almost-died and you-were-scared sex?”

“Yes... and a lot more...” Alex says tenderly, “But we’re not having sex.”

“Oh,” Michael says, sounding disappointed. Everything hurts, and he wouldn’t mind feeling something else.

“Not that I don’t want to,” Alex clarifies, because he would, in fact, love to get as close to Michael as possible, “But you need to sleep. Plus... if we rip your stitches, I’ll have to call Valenti in here and neither of us will ever hear the end of it.”

“I can handle Valenti,” Michael smirks, and trails his fingers over Alex’s jaw.

Alex grins and strokes Michael’s face in return, then looks away, “Yeah, but I don’t know if I can handle watching you in pain again while he sews you back up.”

“Oh,” Michael says again, “Maybe something less vigorous then…” He leaves the joke hanging there, waiting for Alex to decide what to do with it.

Alex responds by kissing him, slow and deep and gentle, in a way that’s been all too rare for them in the past. He pauses. “You sure?”

Michael nods, “I want...” he kisses Alex mid sentence, “...you to touch me. I want--” he gasps, words and aches forgotten as Alex sees to answering his request.

[ariahearthockey]

Love Me, If You Will - Chapter 3

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

_/_/_/_/

Fandom: Men’s Hockey RPF

Pairing: Sidney Crosby/Evgeni Malkin

Tags: 2017 NHL Playoffs, Concussion, Memory Loss, Medical Inaccuracies, Unexplained Medical Conditions, Alternate Reality, Time Travel (sort of), Pining, Fluff, Porn With Feelings, Happy Ending (sort of)

Soundtrack: Dancing On My Own - Calum Scott

_/_/_/_/

Chapter 3

He feels odd walking down the familiar hallway towards the locker room in the PPG Paint Arena. Everything looks as it should be and yet, it feels somewhat difference. He has just finished a brief chat with Sully in his office, relaying the good news after his follow-up check-up with the team doctor. As expected, Dr Vyas has cleared him to play in game five but not before he is reminded to keep a look out for any more symptoms. He has decided not to enclose his issue with his messed-up memory, and it is arguably the most conflicted he has ever felt. It feels a lot like a betrayal of trust to the management, but with the playoff on the line, too much is at risk.

On the drive from their house to the rink, he has some time to think about the matter on hand and he has decided not to let anyone know other than himself and Geno. He is still shaken about it for sure, but years of practice has allowed him to compartmentalise his fear and do what needs to be done. And what he needs is for this to not interfere with his chance to go for the Stanley Cup with his team.

It took him more than half an hour in the staffs' parking lot to convince Geno. Geno has looked so offended when he has first suggested to keep it a secret. Geno was absolutely appalled and almost recruited Brisson to talk some sense into him until he begs Geno not to. He talked to Geno with as much sincerity as he could muster, reasoning with Geno that there would not be a quick fix to his condition. What if Dr. Vyas decided to pull him out for the rest of the playoff? What good will that do to the team?

And Geno had been so angry that he said to hell with the playoff because everything else pales in comparison to Sidney's health. Sidney would have been really touched by that, that Geno is genuinely scared for his sake. If only he wasn't a selfish bastard.

He pried further into Geno's weakness and used it to his advantage. He pleaded Geno to understand his desire to keep playing, telling him how much it would mean for him if he could raise the cup over his head again, how happy it would make him if they could kiss the cup again and bring it home together. And that if his memory never comes back, then at least he could have this, and they could build new ones together. It was a cheap shot, borderline manipulative to be taking advantage of Geno's kindness like that, but he was desperate, and it did get him what he wanted. Geno's reluctance was torn down bits by bits, and finally crumbled down when Sidney promised to come clean right away when he feels any worse.

So, as of right now, the secret is safe. 

In a moment of honesty, he is willing to admit that he has never been as shaken as he has. He is somehow thrust in the center on an entirely different life that he knows nothing of. He has a husband and a beautiful, doting 3-year old daughter. Sofya, the child who is rightfully theirs through surrogacy. He is still not done digesting the fact that his own sister has volunteered to donate her egg and carry the child to term. It feels all too weird at first, but when he sees the picture of his—their daughter—on Geno's phone, he has never been more thankful. Dressed in tiny hockey gears, bright smile on her face, and clutching a giant penguin plushie in her tiny arms, she is just a ball of sunshine that makes him want to weep. A little bit of Geno and a little bit of him, she is just the perfect little miracle that melts his heart through and through.

And then he wonders to himself, how could I have forgotten my own child, as sweet and as beautiful as her? And all that has accomplished is making him dispose of any doubt he has for keeping his condition under wraps. This whole thing about not remembering is messing with him quite a lot. He can't seem to shake off the gnawing feelings his guts. It grows stronger with more stones being turned, and he can't ignore that something is disproportionately wrong with him. He thinks that it is his body trying to tell him something, that maybe his time as a hockey player is dated. That thought leaves him petrified and that further pushes him to make the most out of whatever time he still has.

He doesn't know what to expect when he pushes the door into the locker room. It smells just as it should be right after every practice session and just as loud too, maybe even louder. The picture of twenty over something men in all states of undress is a comfortable norm to him and for brief moment, he feels at home for the first time since he woke up. He doesn't know why but he comes in, prepared to feel somewhat out of place, but the warm greetings and lame chirps from his teammates give him a sense of familiarity he didn't know he craves until now. It calms him.

Geno is already out of his gear—thankfully with his undershirt still on—when he makes a beeline over to Sidney. He ducks down to give Sidney a chaste kiss on the mouth and hears some of the guys in the room hollering at them to get a room or something along that line and Geno chirping back. He doesn't know what to make of that little display of affection, nor he has the time to, because his mind is still reeling with it as he is being escorted back to Geno's stall. It isn't much, just a brief touching of lips on lips but it is enough to keep him stunned for a bit. The guys don't seem to bat an eye to see their captain and their alternate kiss, which tells him that it may be something of a frequent occurance. 

Oh, yes. Of course it does. He just remembered that he and Geno have been married for five fucking years. They are practically one of the old married couples now.

"Sid, talk with Sully okay?" Geno asks and he almost can't hear it when the younger guys throw a couple more dirty chirps their way that comprises of their sex life. Sidney blushes and nods at Geno as a respond before they are once again interrupted, this time by Cully who comes by and gives his back a couple of friendly pats.

"Hey, babe. Good to have you back in one piece. You scared the hell out of a lot of us when you stayed down on the ice, especially your protective Russian bear over here."

"It's true, I can attest to that." Chimes Phil who looks like he has just came out of the shower judging by how his hair matted on his forehead. "You know, this guy here looked about to hurl when you went down and it took three of us to physically stop him from going over to make Niskanen pay."

Sidney chuckles when Geno grumbles disapprovingly at the two babble mouths and to his surprise, he finds Grumpy Geno kind of adorable. "Well, it's really just bad luck that he got me that way. It's just how it is, right? I don't think it was on purpose or anything. It's just ill-timed, is all. I think he left me several texts, probably apologising, but I haven't check them out yet, so."

"Ill-timed my ass! More like perfectly timed to me, man. If he hits any harder, who knows if it's gonna end it for you right there and then, huh? I don't know about you guys, man, but Flower definitely agrees with me, right Flower?"

"Huh?" Flower looks up from his lap where his helmet is on, and takes a few moments looking back and forth between Kuni and Sidney to catch on to what is being asked of him. He tosses a roll of tape onto the bench and smooths his long fringe away from his eyes. "Oh, yeah. For sure, man. Sid, so glad you're okay. What Nisky did was so not cool and I'm gonna make sure he knows that we're very upset with him."

Sidney frowns because Flower is usually not much of an instigator but he must say, he is curious to see what Flower would do to show his dissatisfaction. "Thanks, guys. I really appreciate it. I'm sorry for making you guys worry about me. But hey—it's game four. You guys are gonna kill it tonight, eh?"

"Hell yeah, baby!"

"You bet your gigantic ass we will!"

"We're gonna take this game for you, man!"

"For Sid!"

"Watch and learn, boys. I'm gonna make Ovi cry like a baby tonight."

To say that Sidney is touched by the support from his teammates is an understatement, especially when Horny make his way over without a word and gives him a tight, bone-crushing hug. It lasts longer than any ordinary locker room hugs should be, and probably longer than Geno has liked because it has him practically prying Horny's arms away to end it. When they part, Sidney thinks he caught a glimpse of Horny's watery eyes before he heads out of the locker room. At that moment, he thinks himself as the most privileged guy to be surrounded by these group of good people and he is grateful.

He stays in the room while he waits for Geno to come back. Geno is with Dana in the equipment room, sorting out some issue Geno has on his pair of new skates. Some of the rookies come to him and they talk for a bit, mostly asking how he is doing and talking about how to improve their plays. Shearsy—who is also out for concussion—sits quietly beside him and listens when he comments about Jake's wrist shots.

It is nice to be having these talks with the boys. It makes him feel like he is contributing something to the team, as much as it distracts him from searching for answers that never seem to be there. For what it is worth, apart from being called Mrs Malkin every five minutes or so—all in good fun, of course—the team is still more or less the same. They are still the same driven group and he wants nothing more than to help them achieve their best game, regardless if he is playing or not.

Optimistically, everything will return to normal once he regains his lost memories. But realistically, the brain is quite a fickle thing and God knows what will happen to him in the near future, if his health will deteriorate drastically at some point. Whichever way his health leads him to, he wants to be able to look himself in the mirror and says that he has done everything he can to help his team be the better team.

"Okay, rookies. Time's up. I'm take husband back now."

"Come on, Geno. Don't hog Sid all to yourself, man."

"I'm hog because I'm put ring on it. Now fuck off, Olli."

Geno squeezes himself into the space between Olli and Sidney and pushes Olli's blonde head away. Olli pushes back playfully and it makes Geno loses his balance a little, causing him to land onto Sidney's lap. Sidney catches a lapful of Geno and his hands flies up to Geno's waist on instinct, just as Geno wraps his arms around Sidney's shoulders. He has to bite back a moan when Geno moves to sits himself more comfortable and—probably not deliberately—grinding onto his crotch. He can't help the blush that rises when the rookies give them some horrified scandalous looks.

"Oh, come on. Really? Stop with the foreplay, dude. You know we can't unsee this, right?"

"Don't be baby. You see worse." Geno snarks at Jake as he make a show to tease the watchful eyes around them by tracing his hand slowly down the line of Sidney's spine. Sidney can't help the shiver that wrecks through his body and hides his profile behind of Geno, shielding his blush that is unmistakably colouring his cheeks.

"Ugh, don't remind me. I'm still trying to bleach that image of your naked ass out of my brain."

"Hey, is good ass." Geno counters and defends his ass further when the rookies shakes their head in disbelief. "You not believe me? Wait, I'm show—"

"Yeah, okay. I think we're just gonna go now and leave you two to it. And Sidney, try not to drain too much out of Geno, okay? We kinda need him tonight? Alright. Good talk, team. Dismiss!"

It is amusing to see how fast the rookies can disperse at the threat of seeing Geno's ass. Just in a few minutes time, Sidney finds himself alone with Geno in the room, with Geno still perched comfortably on his lap. He is in no hurry to get Geno off, and he will never admit it to Geno, but he is starting to lose feelings in his legs.

"Sorry for long wait. I'm make sure Dana do job."

Sidney glances up and stunned to have Geno's face just inches away from his. "It's fine, G. New skates, I know how it is."

"Yes. Dana say Sid worse than me."

Sidney shoves him away with a firm push and laughs a little guiltily when Geno lands on the carpeted floor with a thud.

"Hey, why Sid push me? What I'm say?" Geno asks as Sidney straightens his suit and heading for the door.

"Yeah, keep playing dumb, Geno. Come on, I'm hungry. Hurry up or I'm leaving without you." He shouts over his shoulder just as the door closes, and hears Geno chuckling lightly on the other side of the door.

_/_/_/_/ 

[everyonesawhoregrace]

The Good Side (Thomas Shelby Fanfic)

Part 3

read 2 here 

read 1 here

tag: @wefracturedmotivation @reyloshipper-starwars 

I wake up dreading work, but also looking forward to what’s to come with the mates in the prison. This isn’t anything I can say is new, I almost always wake up dreadful of what the inmates of the Sparkhill prison will bring to me.

I put on my nursing suit - a set of scrubs the colour of mustard, kissing grandad Francis goodbye and drive off to the prison. It’s an old prison house, only carries a few hundred men. There are three nurses mad enough to work there apart from me, and two doctors who never show up. We have a few spiritual guiders also come in, and visitors coming to visit their fathers, sons, boyfriends. All of whom are either serving the death sentence or about to die themselves of old age.

“Good morning William!” I say, baring crutches for him.

His eyes go wide the moment he walks into my office, I mention the wooden walking sticks to him. “Wow! For me?!”

I put a smile on my face, wide and excited for him. “Yes for you. But, I’ve promised the warden that you won’t make the crutches into some sort of weapon or shank. Alright?”

“To you?!” He crosses his heart. “I would never! Alene! Thank you!”

The day goes on with me dealing with patients with illnesses from the common flu to some sort of respiratory infection. A few inmates had bad cases of the runs, others have been complaining about massive backaches due to the awful bed.

I save the best for last, making my way to his dungeon with a frown on my face. I was scared beyond belief of what the day was to bring when I meet his sleeping body. He’s completely quiet, but his chest rises and falls at a quick pace. I allow my hands to fall against the side of his face, feeling out his temperature and making sure alls well. He feels scratchy, but warm. Not anything remotely alarming which is good. My eyes catch the sight of whiskey and smokes, the little glass full of morphine. I almost lunge towards his nightstand and gather it into my hands. Taking all of them into my nurse uniforms large pockets. I hide them all before sweeping his hair from his face. 

My eyes trickle down to his hands, bruised from previous fights I’m sure. I note the ring on his wedding finger and instantly my heart jolts out of place. Married? I look back up at him, wondering what kind of ill woman would get married to such a man.

He looks innocent as he sleeps, like a holy man with good aspirations and intentions. Not a man who chokes a woman in fear that she is working with his enemy. Which reminds me.

Blinder. Hah. I was sure to do research about them the moment I went home. Had to ask my grandfather about the Blinders, and he nearly shat his pants poor thing. The Peaky Blinders, a gang that originated in Small Heath and is making its way throughout England. Powerful men who lurk in the shadows. I had to ask my granddad if he knew any of them by name, but he couldn’t recall.

I thought grandad was telling me some sort of folk tale, but I had gotten to chatting about the Peaky Blinders with a gentleman at the grocery store last night who also began to babble on about them. 

Do you reckon you know a Tommy Shelby by chance? 

He’s the bloody leader! The bloke replied to me. 

My jaw might as well have hit the floor. 

Once I push back a hair from his face does he open his eyes and frown at me. He’s got luscious lips. I pull my hand back, “You’re awake.” 

“And you’re touching me.” He hisses. “What do you want?” 

I put my hands on my hips and look away. “I ah, well I-” 

“Were you admiring me?” 

“I was not!” I flat out say, embarrassed. Hmph. “As a matter of fact, I find you quite disgusting.” 

He cocks an eyebrow, entertained.  “Oh?” 

“Don’t think I don’t know who you bloody are.” I hiss, looking at him like the despicable man I sought him out to be. “You blinder.” 

“You thought I was chatting about a sports team yesterday.” He says, unfazed, but amused. 

“I was only kidding.” I scoff. “No, I know exactly who you are. And before you go trying to harm me, I’ll have you know, I will defend myself the next time you dare put your hands on me.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared.” He smirks before suddenly frowning, “You know, you never told me why you left London to be a prison nurse in a rural town.” 

“I’m not obligated to tell you anything.” I wrap my arms over my chest, Thomas rolls his eyes. “Christ, you must really be getting the piss out of this.” 

“You’re the first person I’ve ever met who didn’t seem scared of me.” He tells me, without hesitating. “It’s like you have no fear, Alene.” 

“What do I have to be afraid of?” I whisper, looking down at him. “You’re hurt. Wounded. You said it yourself, you need me. Right?” 

He nods. “Right.”

“Good.” I say before remembering that I haven’t tended to his wounds across his torso. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to finish doing my job.” 

“Your job.” He nods. “The one where you admire me as I sleep, or the one where you-”

I groan, letting out a laugh. “Fuck off!”

It takes me a while to actually get my head in the game as Tommy lifts his arms and allows me to do my thing. Its hard to not pay attention to the detail of his physical appearance, I mean, the man is fucking beautiful to say the least. And the closer I get, the more I can see intricate details of him, like his long thin black eyelashes, his high cheekbones, the way his lips turn a berry pink when he rolls his tongue overtop. His eyes are a stunning blue, lighter than day but there is an emptiness too. One that makes me sad. 

Most of the inmates here are soulless, and they look fucking miserable. But Tommy, Christ, he looks like he’s never seen the sun in years. Like someone’s taken his soul and left him empty. Alone. 

He looks up at me, a blank stare that is intimating. His hand rests on his stomach, fingertips touch the line of hair that disappears under his drawers. I sit right beside him, pressing cold cloths to open wounds, and rubbing ointment to make sure it doesn’t get infected. 

Every now and then, I look into his eyes, and see him looking back at me. I wonder what he thinks about, because I know he’s thinking about something. But instead, I internalize everything. Allowing myself the time to take care of him the way I had sworn I would. I don’t think much of it until once I finish and he grabs my wrist, stopping me from getting up. 

I look at him, to see a man who is vulnerable and out of place. “Alene,” He whispers my name, eyebrows pulled together. 

I grown concerned, frowning, “What is it?” 

Just when I think he’s going to enter my brain with his ideas and technicalities do I feel him pull back and shut all of his doors on me. Leaving me out. “Nothing.” He states. 

I get up to stand, making my way to my medical kit and gather my things. Routinely closing it up and putting everything away. Walking towards the door, I can feel his whiskey, morphine and smokes in my pocket and think about just leaving them all with him. I can’t be bothered bothering him like that. But regardless, how fucking guilty would that look, me just putting his stuff back down on his table like oops, sorry. So, instead, I prepare myself for departure. I’m ready to go, when again, his voice stops me. 

“I’m sorry.” He clears his throat. “I’m sorry for what I did to you. I can’t stop thinking about it and-” 

“It’s okay. I get it.” I don’t get it. He’s totally fucked up but... I can’t necessarily blame him for what he did. I hold the door with my arm up, pushed between the room and hallway.

He opens his mouth, “I just don’t want you to think I’d do that again to you.” 

Imagining myself smiling and saying, of course babe, is a flat out fucking lie. So, I be honest and do what I usually do in situations I feel awkward in. I get the hell out of there. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Tommy.” 

[chickensarentcheap]

Never Gonna Be Alone- Chapter 16

Title: Bruised, Not Broken

Warnings:  mental illness, memory and talk of near death experience, profanity

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @alievans007, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @tragiclyhip, @miss-smutty​

“He’s struggling,” Esme says the following morning, as she leans stomach first against the kitchen island, cell phone pressed to her ear and an oversized mug of steaming tea staring invitingly up at her. “Badly.”

It’s eight thirty in the morning and she’s exhausted; a night full of broken sleep and attempting to fend off the monsters that accompany the reality of mental illness. It hadn’t been that bad in a long time; inconsolable, body wracking sobs that quickly transition into feelings of frustration and embarrassment, followed by a period of self loathing and disgust, finished off by intense rage directed at the mental illness itself and the people and experiences that directly caused it. It’s a hell of a thing to go through. Holding your six foot three, two hundred pound husband while he desperately clings to you and weeps like a terrified and wounded child. Able to do little more than offer verbal reassurance and attempt to comfort by running your fingers through his hair or rubbing his back. THAT isn’t the difficult part; the soothing comes easily and naturally and he normally responds quickly. Even the shame he feels afterwards is relatively easy to cope with. She can fend that off by staying calm and explaining why he doesn’t need to feel that way; somewhat convincing him that there’s no need for embarrassment just because he had a moment of vulnerability and weakness. Reminding him that he IS human; he’s allowed to feel hurt and pain and be frustrated and confused. But it’s the anger that takes over; all consuming and powerful and making it impossible to get through to him. She’d long ago learned that it’s best to just sit back and not say anything; let him rant and rave and vigorously pace the floor. Redirecting doesn’t work; he becomes defensive and accusatory and every little suggestion is taken as a personal attack or judgement. Silence IS golden when he goes off the deep end. Relegating herself to just listening and acknowledging what's happening to him and conveying understanding through body language and actions as opposed to words.

It always ends the same way. With pure physical and emotional exhaustion taking over. All the rage and tears expended and leaving him feeling empty and worn out; crawling back into bed and turning his back towards her in a silent request to just leave him alone. And she gives him that; a hand resting on the top of his head or upon his shoulder, yet no words ever exchanged. Staring up at the ceiling with tears of her own streaming down her face; a mixture of her own frustration and anger and pure and profound heartache. Not only hating to see the person she loves more than anything in the world hurting so badly, but detesting the fact she can’t do anything to take it all away.

“He always struggles at Christmas,” Ovi reminds her, and over the line she can hear the babbling of the littlest and the various voices belonging to characters on Sesame Street. It’s surreal at times; acknowledging just who he is now and how far he’s come. Easily remembering him as that scared and traumatized teenager and then having to remind herself that he’s a grown man; a wife and children of his own and well on his way to becoming a pediatrician.

“It’s different this year. It’s not just sadness. It’s frustration and it’s rage and it’s so much self loathing. I know we were told that this would happen; he’d go through these kinds of ups and downs. But he’s been doing so well and he’s been coping and hasn’t had a downward spiral like this in so long.”

“What is it he’s actually getting worked up over? What’s setting him off?”

“He’s been thinking a lot about Austin. He mentioned how it was bothering him how much Millie and TJ look like him. I mean, he’s always sad at Christmas. It’s always difficult for him. But it’s not like THIS.”

“Maybe he’s wondering what Austin would be like now. Or what he would have been like when he was Millie and TJ’s ages. And if he’s already down and out because of the holiday, adding that into the mix COULD make it worse.”

“It’s been years since he was THIS bad. You know how well he’s been doing. Everything’s been under control. He’s been managing it. Extremely well.”

“And he’s still going to therapy?”

“Religiously. By himself AND with me. And you know what a miracle THAT is. Him even agreeing to getting help in the first place.”

“Is he taking his meds? If he’s been off them or been skipping them…”

“I’ve checked. I went and counted them myself. There’s no extra. He’s been taking them. And I fucking hate that I even have to do that. Check up on him like that. He’s a grown man. He’s forty-seven years old and I’m treating him like he’s a child. I hate that I have to do that. I hate this whole fucking thing. This whole illness.”

“Unfortunately, he’s shown that he can’t be trusted. When it comes to meds. It’s a horrible thing to say, but…”

“This is just so unfair,” she laments, and lifts the mug of tea to her lips. “ That he’s suffering like this. He’s paid his dues, Ovi. And then some. Why does he have to KEEP paying? Wasn’t Dhaka enough? Wasn’t what happened twelve and half years ago a big enough price to pay? He doesn’t deserve this. This kind of pain. I’d rather see him physically struggling than this. Because at least I know that pain will subside. But this? I fucking hate this. And I can’t see Christmas being the only thing causing this. He’s never this bad.”

“How’d he seem when he got back? From Cambodia?”

“Tired. A little sore. But he seemed fine. He was glad to be home and in great spirits. He’s been...I don’t know...he’s been Tyler. Nothing out of the ordinary. I mean, it seemed like there was some underlying sadness, but I just chalked it up to it being Christmas and him always have a hard time.”

“Could something have happened while he was away? Could something have triggered it?”

“He didn’t tell me much. Just that the guys he took out were pretty much the biggest pieces of garbage he’s ever encountered. And that’s saying a lot; considering how many years he’s been doing the job and how many assholes he’s taken out. I guess they didn’t stop at just drug running and weapons trafficking. Apparently they abused women. And children. In the worst ways possible.”

“That could do it. Probably hit close to home. Hearing about someone taking advantage of kids like that.”

“He did seem rather vengeful about it. Satisfied, even. That he got the chance to take out people like that. And I don’t blame him; those people are scum and they deserve to put down in the most painful way possible. And he did say that it made him think about his kids. He kind of started dwelling on it; what would happen and how he’d react if anyone touched his kids like that.”

“That’s probably what did it,” Ovi concludes. “It’s probably been just eating away at him. It’s probably all he’s been thinking about; his own kids getting victimized like that. And you know Tyler. Once something is in his head, it lives there rent free. For a long time.”

“I try to get him to focus on other things; cut him off at the pass before he even gets down that rabbit hole. Usually it works; I can distract him and get him thinking about other things. And I thought it DID work. Guess I’m not as good at all of this as I think.”

“I think you need to cut yourself some slack. If anything, you do TOO much. You take too much on. You’ve got seven kids you’re taking care of. You’re dealing with Tyler’s issues. Are you taking care of yourself? Has anyone asked you how YOU’RE doing? Because that’s just as important.”

“I’m doing okay,” she lies, and swallows a mouthful of tea. “I’m fine.”

She feels anything but; weary to her bones and longing to be home. Six years ago, Australia had become her happy place; a beautiful home backing out onto the beach and the ocean in such short walking distance. There’s a bliss that comes with being there. The feel of the sand beneath your feet and between your toes, the sound of the waves as they roll up onto the shore, the smell of salt that hangs heavily in the air. It represents everything that is beautiful and good in her life; incredible little human beings she’d had a hand in making and a man that loves her more than anything in the world and practically worships the ground she walks on. Everyone seems happier there; content with the sunshine and the warm temperatures and the close relationship with nature. The pace of life seems slower; more laid back and relaxing and not possessing the amount of stress and tension that being in the States in the middle of winter seems to bring. And while she loves it in New York -the convenience that comes with a big city and the amount of activities to keep yourself busy that are available- she’d willingly give it all up if meant it would alleviate some of the suffering that Tyler’s mental illness brings upon him.

“You realize I know you’re lying, right?" Ovi says. "That I lived with you for years and I know exactly how you get; taking on the world’s problems and not paying attention to your own. You can’t keep doing that. You can’t keep ignoring yourself because you’re so busy trying to solve everyone else’s issues. You can’t pour from an empty cup. You burn yourself out and you’ll be no good to anyone. Especially the kids.”

“I don’t have time to worry about myself. Or the energy. There are far more important things going on than what I’m going through.”

“So you’re NOT fine.”

“It’s stressful. It’s Christmas. I always get like this at Christmas. It’s all those ridiculous standards my mother put on us when we were young. Everything had to look and be perfect on the surface so no one really knew just how messy it all was underneath. I can’t get out of that; that line of thinking. And yes, I DO know that’s unhealthy, Doctor Mahajan.”

Ovi chuckles. “Let’s not go tossing that title around just yet. I’ve got a few more years to go. Especially when I’m going into a speciality.”

“Listen, if I want to call my kid a doctor, I will. I’m proud of you. I know how far you’ve come. Everything you’ve gone up against and battled through. I still remember fourteen year old you. Keeping you occupied in that factory; talking about movies and girls and school.”

“I still remember when you showed up. Wondering who the hell you were and thinking ‘how the hell is someone THAT small going to help us?’. Talk about not being able to judge a book by it’s cover. Tyler was right; it is the tiny ones you have to watch out for.”

Smiling, she takes a sip of tea and then perches herself on the edge of the counter. “Do you remember when we used to go into town and get ice cream? In Telluride? When you had your last period off in high school and you’d come home early and it would just be the two of us?”

“I LOVED that place. That was like a childhood dream come true! Walls of candy and thirty flavours of ice cream and these enormous banana splits and massive sundaes. Remember that time we shared that really huge hot fudge one? With the whipped cream and the peanuts on it? I think it was called the Beast or something like that.”

“The Behemoth,” she laughs. “I DO remember that. We sat outside and shared it. We even flipped a coin to see who got to eat the cherry that was on the top.”

“I am still mad at you for winning that. I really wanted that cherry. Those are some of my best memories, you know. The things we’d do together. When Tyler was away and Millie and the twins were at school. We used to have some fun. I used to love when we went bowling. And we’d eat french fries soaked in vinegar.”

“And those really horrible hamburgers. With the flat patties. And no taste. That seems so long ago. You were what? Eighteen? If that?”

“Just turned seventeen. And that IS a long time ago. I AM twenty seven now.”

“And you have your own wife and your own kids. And you’re a doctor.”

“Not yet,” he laughs. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

“Let’s not pretend it won’t happen. We both know it will. And I am; proud of you. So proud. You have come so far, Ovi. To do as well as you have after everything you went through. You would have had every right to have issues.”

“I had two people that loved me and believed in me. That made me realize I could do whatever I wanted. BE who I wanted. If I hadn’t had you guys? I wouldn’t be where I am now. I probably would have followed in his footsteps. I would have felt obligated to. Scared and pressured into it. And it would have just kept that whole vicious and toxic cycle going.”

“I know we weren’t perfect. I know Tyler and I went through some shit that you had to listen to and witness. But all we’ve ever wanted is the best for you. For you to realize how amazing you are. How much potential you have. And all we wanted to do was give you a good life. Even if at the time we didn’t have the money you once had and sometimes it seemed we didn’t have much to offer you. All we wanted was to give you a family.”

“You did. And it never mattered what you could and couldn’t give me. Materialistically speaking. All that mattered was that you loved me. And I felt that. I ALWAYS felt that.”

“It’s strange, huh? How something so crazy and scary brought us together? How complete strangers can become family? It’s surreal.”

“It wasn’t the most conventional of meetings, but it certainly turned out pretty amazing. You know what I remember the most? About back then? When we did meet? I remember being on that bridge with you. And how you refused to separate from me. You said you wouldn’t leave me. And you didn’t. Even I was slowing you down, you never abandoned me. And you didn't treat me like you were doing a job or I was some kind of package. There was no money, but you still stuck by me.”

“We were in it together. I wasn’t going to sacrifice you to save myself. That’s just not who I am. I wasn’t going to leave you. In the same way I wasn’t going to leave Tyler there. There was no way I was doing that; taking off and leaving him there to die. I couldn’t live with myself if I did. My conscience couldn’t handle it. And selfishly, I wanted him alive. I wanted to get to know him and be with him.”

“Hell of a way to profess your love for someone. Willingly sacrifice your life to try and save them. Stick your fingers in their neck to keep them alive. Nothing says ‘I love you’ quite like that.”

“It was quite the ordeal,” Esme agrees, and finishes off the remains of her tea. “You know, sometimes it feels like just yesterday. Other times it feels like forty years. But if I close my eyes and I try hard enough, I can actually remember what it felt like to be there. How scared I actually was. I can hear the gunshots and the explosions and my own heart pounding in my chest. I can even still smell things; blood and gasoline and gunpowder.”

“I believe that’s something referred to as PTSD.”

“Listen buddy, you’re trying to become a pediatrician, NOT a shrink. Don’t go psychoanalyzing me.”

“I’m just saying maybe it’s time you worked on what’s going on in YOUR head. Instead of worrying so much about what’s going on in Tyler’s. I know you love him. I know you’d do anything for him. You go hard core Mother Hen when he gets like this. And I know you can’t help it and I know he appreciates everything you do for him. But you know what else I know? I know he doesn’t expect you to forget about yourself while constantly taking care of him. He’s a grown man. And he’s more than capable of taking care of himself.”

“It’s easier said than done. I can’t just let him fend for himself. I can’t just let him spiral out of control and do nothing more than hope for the best. He’s my husband. The father of my kids. And it kills me to see him like this. To know he’s in so much pain. To hear him talk about himself like he does.”

“When he gets like this, he doesn’t know what he’s doing. Or saying. He just lashes out. He doesn’t mean it when he says he wishes he had died five years ago. Or twelve and a half years ago. That’s just his brain telling him this shit. Do you think he’s in crisis? Do you think he’d hurt himself? Try something stupid?”

“No. I don’t think he WANTS to die. I think he just wants this over. The pain he’s in. He just wants it to stop.”

“He’s going through a depressive stage. It’s to be expected. I mean, it sucks it’s happening right now. At Christmas. What’s he doing right now?”

“Sleeping.” She looks out towards the living room; Tyler fast asleep on the couch, on his stomach with the comforter from TJ’s bed tossed over him and an arm and a leg dangling over the side. The night hadn’t gotten any better after he’d fallen asleep. Tossing and turning and having nightmares; finally coming downstairs to take up residence on the sofa and give her the chance to get a peaceful, undisturbed rest. But she hadn’t been able to. Too worried about him and wanting nothing more than to go downstairs and join him on the couch, yet knowing his current mood, her actions wouldn’t be well received. “He’s on the couch right now. It was a rough night. Nightmares.”

“About?”

“He wouldn’t tell me. Which means they were about Dhaka. Most likely about the bridge. He’ll talk to me about Nathan, but not about the bridge. He avoids that like the plague. More for me than for him.”

“Have you called his therapist? Told him what’s going on? Maybe he has some suggestions; things that can alleviate some of the anxiety and the panic. Help him sleep better.”

“If it gets worse, I’ll call. This could have been a one off. It might have just been a delayed reaction to being away.”

“If it wasn’t and he DOES get any worse? Call. Don’t hesitate. Or take him to the emergency. Or call me and I’ll take him.”

“I’m hoping it doesn’t come to that. He’s resting now. Which is a good sign. Last time he went into a depressive state, he didn’t sleep for a week. I’ll give it a couple days. At least get past Christmas. Once it’s over, he might perk up.”

“Don’t hesitate to call me. If he gets worse or you sense he’s spiralling out of control. I’ll be there. As soon as I can.”

“You have your own life. Riya and the kids. I can’t…”

“That’s my dad. I want to help. LET me help. It’s the least I can do. I’ve to go for now though; promised Mykayla we’d go see Santa in Central Park. She has some last minute gift ideas to drop in his lap.”

“Give her and Tabbi a kiss from Grandma Me. Tell them I love them. Riya too. I love you, Ovi. I’m so proud of you.”

“I’ll give them tons and hugs and kisses from you,” he promises. “And I love you too, mom.”

****

She’s sitting in the sunroom when he wakes an hour later; listening to him shuffle through the living room and into the guest bathroom, the door clicking shut behind him. Minutes later he’s heading towards her; yawning noisily and his eyes heavy lidded. And she glances up from the laptop resting upon her thighs when he pads into the room; clad in a pair of tattered and faded plaid pyjama bottoms and no shirt. And she can’t help but think about how adorable he looks; a giant of man boasting his fair share of tattoos and scars, his hair mussed from sleep and a sporting pout of both sleepiness and annoyance.

“Hey sleeping beauty,” she cheerfully greets, and tilts her head back to smile at him. “How you feeling?”

“Alright I guess.” He presses the heels of his palms into his eyes and then rakes his fingers through his hair. “Can you stand up for a second?”

She cocks her head to the side, a quizzical look on her face.

He manages a small smile, then runs a gentle palm over her hair and adds, “Please?”

Obliging, she places the laptop on the seat cushion next to her and then joins him at the side of the couch; immediately gathered into his embrace and pulled tightly into his chest. And she climbs onto the top of his feet and perches on her tiptoes in order for her arms to reach their final destination; wrapped tightly around his neck. For several minutes neither of them speak; eyes closed and their warm bodies pressed together, a forearm holding her in place and a palm cradling the back of her head. He feels so good; his body hard and strong and never failing to make her feel safe. It’s never been a worry of hers; whether or not he’d be able to defend her if someone hell bent on revenge was determined to hurt his family. And she rests easy at night knowing what he’s capable of and that he’d do whatever it takes -even giving up his own life if need be- to protect her.

Tangling his fingers in her hair, he gently tugs on the short, soft tresses, forcing her to pull back and look at him. She hates what she sees in his eyes; that darkness that betrays just how lost and confused and scared he actually is. A man that always has always been so strong and so fearless; fighting other peoples battles while refusing to address his own. And it breaks her heart. Knowing that the things he’s capable of -the fierceness and the tenacity and the sheer brutality he’s reined down on people- are some of the many reasons he’s now feeling so weak and vulnerable. So good at the job, yet suffering so badly because of it.

“I’m sorry,” his voice quivers with emotion. “I am so fucking sorry.”

She reaches up to push limp bangs away from his forehead. Trying desperately to keep her own fears and worries from betraying her. He doesn’t need that right now; her coming undone and weeping in HIS arms. It’s time for her to be the strong one; holding him up and supporting him and never making him feel like a burden. “For what? What do you have to be sorry for?”

“The way I acted. Going off the deep end like I did. I hate that you have to see that. Hear the shit I say. You shouldn’t have to put up with that.”

“Tyler, you’re sick. It's a legitimate illness. And you know what? You’ve had an amazing five years. Barely any depressive or manic episodes. Things have been pretty stable and pretty smooth sailing. But we were told this could happen. That you could crash like you did. It’s just part of it. And you can’t help it. You don’t know what you’re doing or what you’re saying and…”

“I DO know what I’m doing. And what I’m saying. I’m not blacking out when it happens. I know exactly what’s going on when it’s happening.”

“It doesn’t mean you have control over it. Because you DON’T. It’s your brain. And when things go haywire, you can’t stop the things you do and the things you say. And you’re not to blame for that. You can’t control what is going on. And I know that’s what scares you the most; the loss of control.”

“I just hate that you have to be there. When it happens. That you have to see that shit and hear the things that come out of my mouth. I hate that it hurts you. That I hurt you.”

“You don’t hurt me. I hurt for you. That’s two entirely different things. You have nothing to be sorry for. And I know things were great and it seemed like it was completely under control. But baby, this is going to happen. Whether we want it to or not. We can’t stop it. It’s just the nature of the beast, unfortunately.”

“If I’d died five years ago...twelve and a half years ago…”

“Listen to me,” she pleads and takes his face in her hands. “DON’T go there. That is a very dark place and if you go there, you may never get back out. You are here for a reason. You’re here because you deserve to be. Because there’s people that love you. That NEED you. You helped me make seven beautiful little humans. None of them would exist if you weren’t here. Isn’t that enough? Knowing they’re alive because you are?”

“Of course it’s enough. But they shouldn’t have to live with this. YOU shouldn’t have to.”

“You are not the burden you think you are. It’s an illness. You can’t help what’s going on and you didn't do anything to cause it. It’s not your fault. Your brain didn’t do this to you because of something you did. It’s so many things. And you know what? It sucks. Huge. And I hate that this is happening to you. I hate that you are at war with your own mind every second of every goddamn day. But I won’t let you talk like that. I won’t let you say that you should have died. I won’t let you completely discount the life that you have now. Because I didn’t stick around on that fucking bridge and put my ass on the line so you could turn around and totally disregard that you were given a second chance for a reason.”

“I never asked you to stay. On that bridge. I never…”

“I stayed because you deserved to live. Because you’d paid your dues and you got your absolution. And you know what? Maybe part of it was selfish. Because I knew we could have something amazing if you stopped hating yourself long enough to let me love you. Can you honestly look me in the eye and say you really wanted to die that day? That you would go back and change that if you could? Even knowing you wouldn’t have what you have now. Someone that loves you more than they love themselves. Seven kids that think the sun rises and sets on you. Would you really go back and change everything? Would you really choose to die?”

“No,” he blinks back the tears that threaten to escape. “I wouldn’t. I would choose you. And my kids. Every day.”

“I’m sorry this is happening to you. I’m sorry you’re hurting as much as you are. And I would give anything to take that all away and make you healthy. But you are not broken and I won’t let you destroy what you have. I won’t let your brain destroy YOU.”

“You shouldn’t have to do this. Take care of me like this. Do you know what this is like? How fucking embarrassing it is? That you have to take care of ME?”

“There is nothing to be embarrassed about. I’m your wife. I’m the mother of your kids. I have you seen at your absolute worst. I’ve seen you inches from death. This? This is nothing compared to some of the things I’ve seen and heard. You should never be embarrassed around me. I’m not going to judge you. And it's okay to be weak. To have vulnerable moments. You’re a goddamn human being.”

“I hate it. Being like that. Being weak.”

“Because you were told that it makes you less of a man. You had that drilled into your head from the time you were a little boy. And you know what? Nothing could be further from the truth. It takes a strong man to break down and admit they need help. You are the strongest person I have ever known. You do battle every second of every day with your own mind. And you always keep going. THAT’S brave.”

“I don’t feel it. I feel weak and pathetic and…”

“You are not any of those things. Look at everything you’ve been through. From the time you were a little boy until now. A weaker man would have given up a long time ago. But you? You fight back and you never give up and get back on your feet time and time again. That is strength, Tyler. The fact you suffer like you do but you get up every day and you smile when all you want to do is cry and you love your family with everything you have and bust your ass to make them happy even though you feel like you’re drowning. THAT? That is so far from being weak and pathetic.”

Sighing heavily, he glances away; swallowing noisily around the lump of emotion that sits squarely in his throat.

Pressing her fingers into his cheek, she turns his face back towards her. “I love you. More than you could ever possibly know. And I fell in love with you knowing how messed up things were and what kind of torment and pain you were carrying. None of that matters to me. Because I know who you are outside of all of that. I know that you’re loving and you’re caring and you have a heart that’s even bigger than your body. I know how deep and powerfully you love DESPITE everything you’ve been through. I didn’t back away then, and I’m sure as hell not backing away now. So you can try as hard as you want to push me away, but you’re stuck with me, buddy.”

“That’s not so bad,” he chides through threatening tears. “I mean, I can think of way worse fates.”

“I will love you and take care of you until your last breath. And you know what? I’ll love you even after that.”

“I don’t deserve that. I don’t deserve YOU.”

“That’s your brain trying to convince you of that. And I know its voice is deafening and it seems impossible to ignore it, but you’ve got to try and shut it out. Concentrate on what I’m saying to you. Because what I’m telling you? It’s the truth. I’d never lie to you. So you need to pay attention to me, okay? And the things I say. I am way stronger and more tenacious than that voice inside of your head. Can you do that? Listen to me? Because I would never….ever...steer you wrong. You know that, right?”

“I do. I do know that. And I trust you. ‘Cause I sure as hell don’t trust my own brain anymore.”

“Then just rely on mine. Rely on ME. To give you the truth. Can you do that?”

“I can do that. Or try, at least.”

“That’s all I’m asking for. Now…” she lays her hands on his chest and presses a kiss to the underside of his chin. “...you hungry? What do you want for breakfast? I know I’m not actually the top chef YOU are, but I do make a mean veggie omelette. And you do like my french toast.”

“I thought maybe we could go out. To that little diner a few blocks over. The one that makes those Belgian waffles you like so much.”

“With the strawberries and the homemade whipped cream? I definitely could go for that. Are you sure though? That you’re up to it? It was a pretty rough night and…”

“I’m fine. Or I will be. It’s sunny out. The fresh air would do me some good I think. And we only have so much time without the kids left and I really do like our alone time. Outside of the bedroom.”

“So you don’t like the alone time in the bedroom?” she teases.

“I never said that. I LOVE that time.”

“A breakfast date with my favourite human sounds perfect.” Reaching up, she combs her fingers through his hair, pushing the longer strands off his forehead. “I’m proud of you, you know that? How hard you fight. A lesser man would have given up a long time ago.”

“I’ve got way too much to live for. Besides, I can’t go offing myself and then have to bear witness to you dating another guy. Or worse, marrying one.”

“Never going to happen. You’re it for me. There won’t be anyone after you. You’re stuck with me until the bitter end, Mister.”

A grin tugs at the corner of his mouth, and he takes her face in his hands and presses a kiss to her forehead. “Hell of a way to go if you ask me.”

*****

“I talked to Ovi earlier,” Esme says, as they sit in the back corner of the diner. Sipping steaming mugs of tea; joined hands resting on the table top; fingers laced together and his thumb repeatedly brushing against hers.

The booth is a safe distance away from the main hub of activity; crowds of people and excessive noise caused by the rattle of dishes and numerous conversations and boisterous laughter taking place at the same time. It’s important to avoid any and all triggers, or to at least find ways to lessen the effects of something that could bring on ‘an episode’. On the short walk she’d noticed the tell tale signs that depression isn’t the only concern; the hyper-vigilance associated with his PTSD quickly creeping in. Exhibiting anxiety if he felt pedestrians were crowding around him on sidewalks or when waiting to cross the street. Glaring at anyone he felt was staring at him or in somehow posing even the slightest bit of a threat towards her; jaw clenching as he tightly brought her into his side or put a hand on the back of her neck while drawing him in front of her. And the glances cast over his shoulder; eyes constantly scanning for anything and everything that could be considered suspicious or threatening, visibly tensing at every slam of a car door.

It’s both disheartening and worrisome; to see him regressing back to old behaviours after years of coping so well. Being off the street has helped; his shoulders not as tense, jaw no longer clenched, eyes not surveying the crowd with so much apprehension and simmering anger. But he still insists on being the one to sit facing the door; able to physically handle a threat if one came in their direction. And while she knows those chances are rare and his brain is far from thinking rationally, she doesn’t argue or try to change his mind; squeezing his arm and giving him a reassuring smile before switching seats.

Tyler doesn’t look up from the menu open in front of him. “About me?”

“Yes,” she admits, and refuses to allow him to pull his hand away from hers. “I told him what happened last night. About how you’re struggling.”

“Why? Why would you tell him? He’s got his own shit to deal with. He doesn’t need to hear about what’s going on with me.”

“I told him because he loves you. Because you’re his dad. And he worries about you. We both do.”

“He’s got his own life. His own wife, his own kids. Don’t bother him with that bullshit.”

“You and your issues are NOT bullshit. And you’re part of his life. You have been since he was fourteen years old. We took him in and we raised him and we gave him a family. And he loves you. He has every right to know what’s going on with you. And you know what? I have the right to have someone I can turn to. When I’m struggling.”

“I don’t mean to be such a burden on you. Make you struggle so much.”

“That is not what I meant and you know it. I need someone I trust to help me, help you. And honestly, I need someone I can talk to. About all of this. Because it kills me inside that you’re struggling and you’re in so much pain. And I don’t want to put that on you, Tyler. Can you just accept that you’re surrounded by people who love you? That we’re trying to help? Let us love you, okay?”

Sighing, he nods in agreement. “Okay.”

“We’re just worried about you. We just want to help you.”

“I’ll be fine in a couple days. Once Christmas is over. I’ll act like everything is okay around the kids. So it doesn’t ruin things for them. I just need the holiday over with. I’ll be okay once it is.”

“I’m sure you will.” She hopes she sounds more confident than she feels. “It’s always a hard time. The holidays. And you know, seeing the kids so happy Christmas morning will help too. You know how cute that is; how excited they are, their faces all lit up when they see all the presents. It’s kind of hard NOT to smile when you see all of that. So that gives you something to look forward to, right?”

“You know what I’m NOT looking forward to? How many times they wake us up between midnight and five am.”

“It felt like every half hour last year.”

“It wouldn’t have been so bad if I hadn’t been up until two in the morning putting together that stupid dollhouse we got for Addie and Brooklyn. Having to decorate every damn room and put out all those little forks and knives and plates and shit.”

“You were a pro. I was quite impressed how those huge hands of yours dealt with teeny tiny cutlery. And I have to say, you have quite the eye when it comes to interior design. Maybe you should be in charge of picking out decor for the house from here on out.”

“That’s not the deal. You pick shit out and I live with it. Or you tell me what needs to be painted and what colour you want and I do it. Or I carry heavy shit. I’m happy with that; our arrangement. What else did he say? Ovi?”

“He said that Tabbi is up on her feet and starting to cruise the furniture. Finally sleeping through the night. Remember those days? The relief that comes with THAT?”

“We didn’t really get to experience that until Takota and Brookie started sleeping through the night. They’re last so we didn’t have any babies after them to worry about. The rest of them?”

“One started sleeping through the night, another baby was born. We were pretty busy those first seven years.”

“You know, you could have always said ‘no’ a few times. You didn’t always have to put out every time I asked you to.”

“Are you kidding? And miss out on the fun? You can’t say it wasn’t enjoyable.”

He grins. “You won’t hear any complaints from me.”

“And Mykayla starts preschool next week. Can you believe that? Our first grand baby is going to be in preschool! It seems like she was just born. Kind of hard to believe, don’t you think?”

“I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact I have two grandkids.”

“For what it’s worth, I think we’re pretty sexy grandparents. You’re a damn fine grandpa.”

“How many times have I told you not to call me that?”

“I don’t care. You ARE a grandpa. You ARE grandpa Tyler.”

“Makes me feel so fucking old. Way older than I actually am.”

“Well for what it’s worth, you’re the hottest grandpa around. I’d still do ya.”

“Yeah? Well I definitely wouldn’t say no to you. You’re kinda hot yourself. For a grandma.”

“What about when I’m the grandma who can barely see or hear and my hair is snow white and my body a total dumpster fire?”

“You’ll still be the most beautiful girl in the world to me.”

Smiling, she squeezes his hand and then smiles at the waitress who returns to refill his coffee and take their orders. For several minutes they sit in silence; his thumb sliding down to the base of her wrist and continuing its slow and methodical caress, eyes flicking back and forth as they constantly survey the surroundings and their fellow diners. She’s seen that look before; cautious and wary, as if expecting a threat to announce its presence any second. And it’s a side that she hasn’t seen in years; since extensive therapy began to help control the hyper-vigilance and paranoia.

“Hey…” she taps the toe of a boot against his shin in order to grab his attention. “...you okay?”

“Yeah,” he manages a smile; that half assed turning up of one corner of his mouth. “I’m good.”

“Really? Because you’re acting like an armed robber is going to come barging and start shooting up the place. Do you want to get our order to go? Eat at home? Where you’re more comfortable?”

“I’m comfortable here. I’m fine, Me. Honest.”

“You are NOT fine. You are far from fine. I haven’t seen you like this in a long time. I’m safe, Tyler. Nothing is going to happen. I’m with you. Which means nothing or no one can hurt me. I trust you. I know you can protect me if you have to. I am one hundred percent safe because I am with YOU.”

“What if I can’t? Protect you?”

“You can. You’ve always been able to. Nothing’s changed. I’m fine. I’m safe. I’m here with you and everything is right in the world. Just try and relax, okay?”

“I’m not who I was back then. When we met.”

“I don’t expect you to be. And you know what? You’re better than you were. You’re stronger and you’re healthier and I trust you one hundred percent. There’s nothing you can’t handle. Nothing you can’t beat. Everything is fine. I’M fine. You need to just try and relax, alright? Nothing is going to happen to me. Not when I’m with you.”

The tension slightly lifts; the stiffness in his shoulders easing and the frantic bouncing of his leg finally stopping. But she notices the way his hand shakes when he lifts when he lifts the coffee mug to his lips.

“Do you want to go? Do you feel like you’re going to have a panic attack?”

“No. I’m okay. I’ll be fine.”

“Here…” reaching into her purse, she briefly rummages through it and pulls out a small vial of pills she’s grabbed from the stash in the lock box in the pantry; snapping off the lid and dropping two in her palm. “...just a couple. It’ll take the edge of. Calm you down. Take them. Please.”

He obliges, plucking the tablets from her palm and placing them under his tongue and allowing them to resolve. The silence that follows is nerve wracking. Feeling her own heart pounding wildly in her chest as she watches him from across the booth; an elbow resting on the table , eyes closed and his palm pressed against his forehead. And she’s unsure how much time has actually passed when he takes a sharp intake of breath; eyes opening and his forearm coming to rest on the formica.

“Good?” she asks, and softly runs her fingers over his. “You alright?”

“Better.”

“You’ll be okay. In a few minutes, you’ll be right as rain. You’re doing good, baby. I’m proud of you.”

The corners of his mouth twitch as he attempts a smile. “I was thinking that maybe we should go home. Earlier than we were going to. Maybe a couple days into New Years instead of a couple weeks.”

“Is that what you want to do? Go home?”

“Yeah…” he struggles to hold back a flood of tears; uttering a string of profanities and squeezing his eyes shut.

“Don’t do that. Don’t be embarrassed. Just pretend that no one else exists but me. That no one else is here. Just listen to my voice. You’re fine. It’s just your brain, Tyler. Ignore what it is telling you and pay attention to what I’m saying. I’m okay. I’m safe. Because I’m with you. Nothing is going to happen. There’s no one following us, there’s no out to get you, there’s no one that’s going to hurt me. There’s no threat. Everything is okay. Alright?”

Nodding, he takes a deep intake of breath and then releases it slow. “I want to go home.”

“Home as in our place here or…?”

“Home, home. Australia. I want to go home. As soon as we can. I NEED to go home.”

“I’ll change our flight plans. When we get back to the townhouse. I’ll call and set everything up. We’ll leave on the second, okay?”

“But the kids might be pissed. They might…”

“I’ll think of something to tell them. They don’t need to know what’s going on. Don’t worry about that, alright? I’ll take care of everything. I mean, if you really wanted to, we could leave earlier. Ovi knows you’re struggling and…”

“I can’t miss his wedding. I’m the best man. That’s my kid.”

“And he’d understand. If you needed to get out, he would totally have your back. Believe me, he wouldn’t hold it against you if you couldn’t handle it here.”

“I’ll be fine. I’ll suck it up and I’ll get through it. We’ll go to the wedding and we’ll have a good time and we’ll have our mommy and daddy only night. Then we can leave. On the second.”

“Okay,” Esme says, and reaches across the table to wipe away an errant tear that slips down his face. “You’re going to be okay.” she promises. “You always are. You’ve fought back against way worse.”

“You have a lot of faith in me.”

Smiling, she pushes her fingers through his. “Enough for both of us.”