#okay so last night i dreamt that this boy (who i’m pretty sure likes me) killed himself (vv gruesomely)

[blueseakelp]

i know dreams aren’t real, but how am i supposed to come back from the way people are in them?

[miela]

Shattered Memories • Chapter I: The Expo & The Files • {Peter Parker x Stark!Reader}

Chapter Genre: Angst Chapter Warnings: Flashback Death (writing it hurt me lmao), Mentions of substance abuse and alcholism. Masterlist

↪ divider by firefly-graphics

DIARY / Dream Log #3 / 10 NOV 2024

Dear Diary,

 I dreamt of him again last night…the faceless boy

For the past few nights I've been dreaming of this boy. I didn't remember the dreams but I remember him. I can't remember what he looked like. It's like I remember the essence of him. Like he existed but he's nowhere to be found.

Only this time I remembered.

We were at the studio on a rainy day. I was wearing a long sleeve fitted crop top and matching leggings with my ballet shoes on.The pink of my slippers were a stark contrast against the black of my outfit. He was wearing a black fitted muscle shirt with black leggings under a pair of loose fitting Midtown Tech PE shorts. He was wearing a pair of star wars socks, which I found quite adorable. We were dancing playfully around the studio as we laughed at ourselves for not dancing so seriously but instead sliding across the floor and twirling each other as if we were ipart of a dance number in a musical

I wish I could remember his face.

I remember loving his smile. It's such a pretty smile, that much I know…but I don't remember what it looks like. I just know it brought me comfort and joy. His hair is soft and curly. He has such lovely hair. It feels soft and silky in my hands as I ran my hand through them a few times just to feel them. His eyes are puppy-like but I don't know what color they are. I just…know how they are.

It's strange to dream of someone and have no idea what they look like, but knowing little details that explains what they look like. It’s like running to a destination and then having no idea where you’re going. 

He likes to kiss my cheek and his lips feel velvety on my skin. He calls me different pet names too. 

"Baby, you’re going to hurt yourself."

"My little Lovebug." 

"Are you hungry, Darling?" 

"Princess, you’re doing great!" 

"There’s my Pretty Girl~"

His voice is soft, just like everything about him. (Well…minus his arms and chest and abs…) but his voice is like music to my ears. I would respond with my own pet names for him.

“Don’t worry, My Love, I’ve been doing this my whole life.”

“My Sweet Boy~”

“No, I’m okay, Baby.”

“It’s like you’re my own Disney Prince.”

“And there’s my Handsome Boy~”

We danced around the studio for about an hour until we laid on the floor facing each other tiredly. His fingers traced over my hips and waist several times causing my skin to react to his touch. I scoot closer to him until our faces are centimeters apart. I could hear his heartbeat and I’m pretty sure he could hear mine. We have a special connection that is different from most. It was a biological connection that I couldn’t place. 

I wish he was real. Then maybe I wouldn't feel so fucking lonely.

I leaned in to kiss him before something happened. He glitched. He glitched and my head felt like it was splitting in half with a migraine so painful that I woke up dizzy, shaking and sweating. 

How strange…and terrifying. 

[END NOTE]

The night was in good weather and the streets of New York City were bustling and busy, as per usual. Life was moving on as usual. The sun and moon cycled as usual.

The year is 2030.  

Five years had gone by after the incident at the Statue of Liberty. Five years since you were forced to forget him along with the rest of the world. 

No one knew who Peter Parker was. Not a single soul. To anyone that would be a terrifying thought, but it was something Peter himself had to accept.

He was swinging across buildings in the city one night, as usual. He was on his nightly patrol doing the same thing he's always done—protect the little guy. He figured it would be a somewhat busy night considering today was a special day so, he would probably have to protect some of the…not so little guys as well. He only stopped when he saw one of the big screens in Time Square and decided that this was a good spot to watch from. 

It was showing the Stark Expo. 

It had been awhile since he'd been excited about the beloved and annually anticipated event. Before, it hurt too much to bear with everything that happened but he was particularly intrigued with this one this year because this is when you made your official debut as the new owner of Stark Industries, and he knew you always wanted to make a big entrance. Much like your father, Tony Stark.

Only you wanted to do it bigger. Better.

Peter remembered different ideas you came up with for when the tech company torch was passed down to you. You said no to fireworks because the constant loud noises bother you and it was disrespectful to veterans, animals and those who are like you and sensitive to sound, even more so as a mutant human with super hearing.Other ideas you thought of were outlandish like setting something on fire or blowing something up (which Peter reminded you, contradicted your statement about the fireworks) and some were outrageous like blasting out of a giant cake. Eventually you came up with a solid plan that seemed to have fit your personality and mission as the legacy. You had it all planned out in a digital notebook with blueprints, lists, distributors, catering options and many more categories. Peter loved to watch you while you were fixated on something. It showed how much passion you had. He wondered how you felt leading up to the event. 

He wished he could have been there. 

There was a countdown on the screen for when the Expo was going to begin. Peter's friends invited him to go with them to see the Expo but he decided against it and used the excuse of having a lot of work; for school, for home and his job. Really he just couldn't handle the crowd right now he didn’t think he would be able to handle being so close to and yet so far from you. 

Also he's Spiderman. He's got his hero duties to do. 

With school, work, trying to function as an adult and being Spiderman, he was a busy guy, and that was the only thing that kept him distracted from thinking about his friends, his family, Mr. Stark, you…

Especially you. 

There were times when he looked at the necklace you gave back to him and remembered what you had said to him. 

"Give this back to me, I'll remember you."

But he knew it wouldn't be that simple. 

Five years ago, he had full intentions of calling you at seven like he promised but...he didn’t. He went to your window later that night instead. You were sitting on your bed sadly looking at a picture of you and your dad. It had been a year since you both lost Tony but it was taking you a longer time to move on for obvious reasons. He was your actual father and you knew him much longer. Tony was like a father figure to Peter, but he's been to this rodeo four times already. 

This was the first time you lost someone so close to you in such a way. 

Peter recalled that day. He remembered how you were.

Pepper had her arm around a crying Peter’s shoulders. Rhodey had given you a sad and apologetic look as you went over to Tony. You kneeled down by him.

"Dad, we did it." You said going up to him, your voice shaking as you put your hands on his shoulders. "Pops, we won. You did it. You…you…"

You paused when you saw the state of him. Half of his body was fried from using the infinity stones and he was taking his last breaths. Peter put his hand on your shoulder and you glanced at him with a fearful and hopeful look in your eyes. He pressed his lips together in a thin line giving you an apologetic and pained look. He had that same look you had in his eyes a moment ago. 

“No,” you shook your head and looked back at Tony. “Dad, please. We….we….we won.”

Tony looked at you one last time and weakly pointed to his heart before pointing to yours. You understood what he meant by it and you sighed deeply, nodding before he forced a small smile on his face that was barely there and took his final breath.

Your lip quivered and you leaned your forehead on his. “I love you, Daddy. I love you so much.”

Then the arc reactor light on his chest went out. 

Peter sat next to you after a moment and you instantly wrapped your arms around him in a tight hug and you hugged him back both of you crying your eyes out and attempting to comfort each other. Peter had to carry you back and he didn’t put you down until you had cried yourself to sleep on his shoulder.

Remembering that moment and then remembering how you were afterwards, it dawned on him how things played out. Peter was your rock, and you were his, but he had already made his decision. 

Your name was called and you perked up before quickly wiping your eyes and softly calling ���Coming!”

You put down the photo on your end table and then walked out of your room. Once it was safe to do so, Peter climbed into your window and gathered any trace of his existence and put it in a box and left with it.

 Would he regret this? He had no idea.

He had run into once or twice or three times after that but as Spiderman and when he was saving your life from any danger. Nothing too eventful.

And that is how he ended up here five years later with a new life so different from yours.

The countdown made it to the 10 second mark and Peter was knocked out of his thoughts to pay attention to the screen. Once the mark hit zero the intro began.

Instantly he recognized the song. Back in Black by AC/DC. 

Different forms of tech and inventions were brought onto the stage in an almost cinematic way. Lights flashed, sparks flew, and the crowd went wild. Fireworks went off in the sky to Peter’s surprise but he was even more surprised when they made no sound. He concluded that you somehow made soundless fireworks. He wondered when and how you came up with that one. 

Once the platforms finished forming on the stage he spotted something flying in the sky. He didn’t sense danger from it but it was headed towards the expo. 

“Hey Karen, zoom in on that thing in the sky.”

“Okay, Peter.” and with that the lens of his mask zoomed in on the flying object. It was red and gold and mechanical…

Wait, could it be…?

“It appears to be an Ironman suit.” Karen stated.

“Who is it…?” Peter wondered.

“Activating X-Ray Scan Function.”

“Wait a minute…!” Peter panicked. “What if they’re naked…!”

“Be serious, Spiderman.” Karen retorted while deactivating the x-ray scan. 

Peter was taken aback by his AI. “Wow, Karen, I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“All Stark Industries AI have been updated with a Bestie Feature created by (Y/N) Stark.”

Peter smirked to himself. “Classic (Y/N/N).”

You landed on a mid-rise platform on the stage as it lowered to the regular height. The crowd was cheering loudly as you stepped out of the iron suit and Peter was taken aback.

You looked amazing. 

You wore an oversized blazer with a black dress underneath and knee high combat boots. Your lips were painted a bright red color and your nails were a teal blue that Peter recognized you always wearing.  Under the dazzling lights of the Expo. You looked happy, healthy and lovely as ever.

Just how Peter hoped for you. 

You danced your way across the stage before you stood poised at the podium, your confidence radiating, much like how Tony was. The audience hushed, anticipation hanging in the air as they waited to hear from the new owner of Stark Industries, Tony Stark's eldest daughter, (Y/N) Stark.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, esteemed guests and partners," you began, your voice steady yet carrying an echo of nervousness that Peter recognized all too well that others wouldn’t. “How are we all doing tonight?!”

The crowd went wild and you grinned in response.

"Good glad to hear it because today marks a significant milestone – not just for Stark Industries, but for a legacy that my father, Tony Stark, entrusted me to carry forward."

The crowd erupted in applause, the memory of Tony Stark's genius and charisma still fresh in their minds, even five years after his passing. Your presence on that stage, the spitting image of confidence of your father with a twist of your own determination, stirred a mix of nostalgia and curiosity in everyone. Even people on the street stopped and watched curiously and anxiously. Once the crowd calmed down, you continued on with your speech. Peter sat on top of the tall building that was right across from the screen that he was watching. You looked a little different but you were still as beautiful as he could remember. 

“Tony Stark was many things; a visionary, a genius, a multi-billionaire, a philanthropist, an American patriot, a playboy, a raging smart ass…”

The crowd laughed, and you continued.

“But to me, he was my number one supporter, my greatest mentor, my biggest inspiration and my best friend."

You looked back at the Ironman Suit that you arrived in longingly for a moment before turning back to the crowd. 

“When I was nine years old, my dad was taken by terrorists. He told me those three months were a huge awakening for him and changed the trajectory of his life. Through those dark times he went in a man, and came out a hero. A year later, he had learned that he had made enemies and then one day, our home in Malibu was blown to pieces. Each and every attempt to knock him down only made him come back stronger and stronger...and each time he became more and more my hero.”

Peter agreed with you from his sitting place in the building and the crowd cheered once again.

“Obviously, I began to notice at a young age what was happening. I did inherit his genius after all. And I began to ask questions, lots of questions.”

“One day he pulled me off to the side and He told me, ’(Y/N/N), one day this company will be yours and I want this to be a learning lesson for you. I want you to learn from my mistakes, instead of your own. I want you to grow to be a better person than I am’... I still hold those words close to me and I wonder how I can even be half of the genius and a fraction of the hero that he was...and still is to many people? I don't think I ever could. But because he believed in me so deeply, I will be. Even though he is gone from this world, he's still in my heart, guiding me.”

"Change is inevitable, and with change comes the opportunity to create a brighter future,” you continued, your eyes alight with determination but Peter could tell that you did it to hide the pain. "My father once said that his suit was a cocoon, and he emerged as Iron Man. Stark Industries is my cocoon, and I am committed to guiding it toward new heights of innovation and impact.”

“I remember his speech here at the expo, after he revealed himself as the iron hero and how he said ‘it's not about us, it's about legacy’. I stand before you as a testament to my father's belief in progress, innovation, and the power of human potential," you stated. "Tony Stark was more than a genius inventor; he was a visionary who saw challenges as opportunities, who dared to dream the impossible and then turn those dreams into reality."

The holographic screens around the stage displayed images of Tony Stark's greatest creations: the Iron Man suits, the Arc Reactor, the revolutionary technologies that had changed the world and his one of his greatest creations stands in the middle of all of it. 

You. 

“So I will go on with this genius mind and this heart made of gold and iron that I inherited from one of the greatest people I have ever known and be the heir of legacy that he believed me to be.” 

Peter looked at the screen, his heart swelling at your words and the emotion and passion in your voice. He could only imagine how this was for you.

"As the new owner of Stark Industries, I take this responsibility seriously," you asserted. "My father's legacy was not just about technology; it was about making a difference. And that is what Stark Industries will continue to do under my guidance, because with great power comes great responsibility."

Peter could have swore that his heart exploded. That was what his Aunt May had told him right before she died. He wondered where you heard it from. “Now, just because I came down in the suit, doesn’t mean I’m trying to be the new Iron Man. Oh no, I’m trying to be a different kind of hero…but I will work hard to find someone who will be suitable to wear it.” You stated and the crowd seemed to look at you understanding. 

After that, you spoke of a renewed commitment to clean energy, sustainable technologies, and global initiatives aimed at improving lives.The audience was captivated, witnessing the torch being passed from one generation to another, seamlessly transitioning from Tony's leadership to your vision. Peter was also captivated by the strong and determined person you have grown to be. 

Maybe it was better this way. Maybe it was better that he was out of your memories and your life.

“Now a few words from the man who walked and the man who ran so that I could fly.” You smiled.

Your words resonated deeply with the audience as you concluded your speech. The applause that followed was thunderous, a testament to the faith they had in your ability to carry on your father's legacy. Peter couldn't be anymore proud of you than he already was.

He just wished he was by your side, supporting you.

As you stepped down from the podium, Peter couldn't help but feel the weight of the moment.

 The Stark Legacy was in your hands now, and you were ready to honor it and not by imitating your father, but by carving your own path while staying true to his spirit of innovation, determination, and a desire to make the world a better place. Just as you had told Peter once before.

Peter pressed his lips together under his mask as he watched you. He watched as you walked off stage as a video of Howard Stark began to play. He talked about the initial mission for Stark Industries. Then Tony’s video came on, and he spoke about legacy and the future. It sure seemed like the future of Stark Industries was bright with your mission to push it even further with technology for space exploration of the solar system, and making technology that can advance cybernetics and construction tools. 

Peter wished nothing for the best for you, but he couldn’t help but wish he could be by your side while doing all of it. Something told him to go to you and tell you everything but another part of him told him to do the opposite and stay as far away from you as possible, but he had decided a while ago that he would just let you have your own space to grow before he attempted to come back into your life…before he would return the necklace to you, but the more he thought about it the more he feared doing it. He had tried once  with Ned and MJ before they left for MIT, but he also chickened out. He couldn't even get close to Celina since she was training with Doctor Strange. He figured by now it would be a dead end anyways. 

So he promised to support you guys from a distance. A big one. 

The wail of sirens echoed down below fading in and out as they passed by and that was Peter’s signal to resume his duty as the beloved web slinging, wall crawling hero that he was meant to be. 

You had left the Expo early.

You left after you actually gave your speech. You had better things to do than to pretend that everything was okay. These five years were tough on you. You have lost so much and so many people and even five years later it deeply affects you. You were definitely better than you were years ago though. You pretty much flew off the handle and went off the deep end. You did some dumb shit and did some bad shit, took some dumb shit and took some bad shit and now you’re trying to forget all of the dumb shit and the bad shit. Lucky for you, you always kept a low profile. 

Everyone knew Tony Stark had a daughter but he kept you out of the public eye for good reason.

You preferred it that way anyways. It made life and school easier. You went as far as to take up the name (Y/N) Jarvis and take the bus home from school to keep your identity a secret. You were in no way ashamed to be a Stark, in fact, you were proud of it. You just didn’t want the unwanted attention that comes with being a famous person’s offspring. You could already hear the nepo baby accusations for everything (not that they were really wrong…).

So, when you went on a bender for a year, no one knew who you were. When you decided to take things to forget your pain, no one batted a pretty eye.

Except those who did know you of course. 

You’d rather not think about how you broke Pepper and Happy’s hearts seeing you like that. Or how selfish you had been. It wasn’t until you were at your worst one day, where you finally decided that you were gonna get your act together. It wasn’t easy…it was far from easy. You had spent the first half of the first year utterly depressed from the loss of your father and the next half was your party girl bender era, much too young from doing anything that you were doing. The year after that was recovery and the years after that was making amends with everything you made crash and burn. 

This year you worked. A lot. 

You spent most of your time in your lab at the avenger’s compound creating and inventing while also scolding DUM-E, the help robot your father created, for doing too much. Which is where you were right now instead of networking with people you really didn’t give a flying fuckaroo about at the expo.

You had more important matters to attend to. 

Usually you would be working on a new AI format (that wasn’t the debauchery that Ultron was..) or the car you were supposed to build with Tony before he passed, but with the world in near shambles all the time, you have a different project you were working on.

The NAI— New Avengers Initiative. 

After the fight with Thanos and the blip coming undone by the hands of your father’s sacrifice, shit went sideways in your eyes. You recalled how people reacted when the world went back to normal, you recalled Sam and Bucky going on missions to stop a literal child from causing a mass murder attempt on government officials, you recalled Sam becoming the new Captain America and his beautiful call out speech to those government officials, and you recalled the day five years ago at the statue of liberty.

 Sort of.

You had remembered a battle, you had remembered being there with Ned, Celina and MJ, but you honestly weren’t really sure why you were there and you didn’t understand why you were crying so hard. 

Come to think of it, why were you crying at all? 

You fought all types of enemies including the Big 3 (Aliens, Robots, and Wizards) as Sam likes to put it. You have fought terrorists, governments, hell you have fought in the civil war of the avengers, and yet you had the waterworks about a battle you couldn’t even remember. You blamed it on the realization that you would have to fight big battles without your biological family and chosen family the same way anymore, but…you felt like something else was missing, like a big part of you was carved out of your life. It was like there was this big hole in your chest and you tried to fill it with everything imaginable. You failed miserably.

It must be the dreams you were having. 

You kept dreaming about a boy, and everytime you dream about him you’re super happy. The happiest you have ever been. The only problem is you couldn’t remember who he was and why you kept dreaming about him. Since those dreams began you have been having terrible headaches and nothing has been really fixing them. Morgan would tease you in her oh-so-annoying-little-sibling-way and basically say that your brain is trying not to be stupid for once. 

God forbid she knew you were dreaming about a boy. You wouldn’t hear the end of it.

“FRIDAY,” You stated as you sat in your chair in thought. “Pull up all the files on the Avengers.”

“The remaining ones or All of them?” the voice asked.

“All,” you replied. “Minus me, I know me. Very well actually.”

“Pulling up Avenger’s database right now, miss.”

Holographic screens appear in front of you. “Spread them out. Circular please.”

The screens surround you as if they were a council meeting. You walked to each one studying them as you reminisced on your past relationship and current stance with each of them now. 

You heavily looked up to Natasha Romanoff and she was like a big sister to you.

Now she’s dead.

You deeply admired Wanda Maximoff, and even had a mini crush on her.

But she went rogue and is now nowhere to be found.

You adored Vision, since he was the personification of AI Jarvis.

But you don’t know what happened to him either.

You also admired Steve Rogers, and he was like a big brother to you. 

But he decided to go back to the past and live his own life. 

Thor was like your goofy uncle and you loved him like one.

But he has his own thing going on in New Asgard and with the Guardians of the Galaxy.

Doctor Bruce Banner you felt so much for. You honestly admired him too. You were one of the only people who didn’t fear him as the Hulk but rather felt pity for him.

You decided he needed to be left alone, even though he was better now.

Scott was cool. He was also like a cool uncle figure. 

But he has other matters to worry about. Including a family.

Same with Clint. You learned alot from him.

But he only came out of retirement by force. You didn’t wanna bother him. 

Doctor Stephen Strange you found amusing. 

But you currently hate magic, that’s more of Celina’s thing. Possibly Ned too apparently.

You look at each of them as if this is the only way you could send them off with good riddance…for some of them it was true. Some of them you expect to never see again. You long accepted that already and wished nothing but the best for the rest of them and you hoped they all could find peace as much as they could. You sighed and smiled as you looked over all of them, but your eyes landed on a screen that would change the trajectory of your life.

You let your eyes scan the face of a puppy-eyed figure with brown curls and boyish features. There was something vaguely familiar but so foreign about him. It bothered you. You read the name.

“Peter Parker…” His name tasted familiar on your tongue, like you had spoken it many times before.

Could it be…?

“FRIDAY,” you asked. “Give me all the information on Peter Parker that we have.”

“Certainly,” she responded and pulled up more screens. “Peter Parker. Age: 21. Would have been 26 but he was part of The Blip. Hair Color: Brown, Eye Color: Brown. Ethnicity: Some sort of European descent, seems to be English by the last name.”

“Okay, okay but like ...who is he in the Avengers?”

“He is Spiderman and he was taken under the wing of your father.”

Your face twisted in confusion. “Huh? How…?”

You knew Spiderman. You remember Spiderman as your partner on Missions. You two bonded over the fact that you both had Spider powers. You even built his and your suits and begged your father not to tell him that it was you for some odd reason…oh yeah you had a major crush on him. Your suits synced up to each other making you both the Iron Spider. 

Two Spider Mutants + Stark Tech = Iron Spider. 

As you scanned your neurons for memories, you tried to remember his face. Surely, you knew his face…but you couldn’t place it. Really, all this time you just thought Spiderman was Harley Keener, but now that you think about it…nothing in that thought process would make any sense. After all he’s from Tennessee and has been in the same room as Spiderman. You recall sleeping on the Quinjet with Spiderman with your head on his shoulder and his head on top of yours. You recall even fighting “against” him in the Avengers Civil War.

That’s a different story for a different day.

You went through a plethora of memories but you could never remember his face and it peeved you to no end. Did he just hide his identity from everyone? He was young and honestly you did the same thing for a while, so you don't really blame him. After you gave the heroic works, he continued being the friendly neighborhood spiderman, helping the little guy. But things weren’t adding up in your mind still. 

Especially if he knew your father on a close level to wear he took him under his iron wing. 

“Peter Parker,” you said softly again. “Who are you? How did you meet my father…? Are you the boy in my dreams…?”

“The Database says he was part of the Stark Internship. Which was a Pseudonym for his Avenger call.” FRIDAY responded. 

“Something isn’t adding up,…” you said, chewing your lip, vexed. “Why don’t I recognize him?”

“Would you like me to do a deeper search, miss?”

Invading his personal information? You thought. 

“How deep are we talking, Fri?” You squint your eyes at the picture of Peter Parker, as if you were addressing him. 

“I can go as far back as to the day he was born and as deep as to where he is right now.” 

You nearly fell out of your chair. “FRIDAY…!” 

“It’s the way I was built, miss. You can’t blame me.”

You snorted.

“FRIDAY, that is stalker behavior,” You respond, thinking no more than ten seconds on the idea. After all, if you knew each other personally I’m sure he told you most of this stuff already. 

And if he’s the boy from your dreams…

“Do it.”

And this is how everything changed.

~

[dadbodosamu]

only you || part ii

Stepdad Osamu x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: slight (consensual!!) somnophilia, cockwarming, public sex, semi-public sex, daddy kink, oral (m+f receiving), Osamu has a dick piercing

3.3k words

part i || part ii || part iii || part iv || part v || part vi || extras || only you, too

You woke up to Osamu crawling into your bed.

“Good morning, princess,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around you.

“Morning,” you mumbled as he kissed your forehead.

“Go back to sleep, baby. I just wanted to hold ya for a lil’ while,” he said. You nodded and closed your eyes again.

Osamu’s cock was pressing against your clothed cunt.

“Samu,” you groaned.

“Just sleep, princess,” he mumbled, pushing down his boxers. He rutted his cock against your pussy. He buried his face in your neck, kissing and sucking along your skin as he rutted against you. You spread your legs slightly, giving him a better angle.

“Good girl,” he breathed. He reached down, rubbing your clit through your thin panties.

“Want more,” you moaned.

“Wanna warm my cock, princess?” Osamu asked.

“Please,” you whimpered as he played with your clit. He pushed your panties to the side and slowly slid inside you. You moaned as he pulled your leg over his hip to push deeper inside of you.

“There we go,” Osamu sighed. You sighed as you closed your eyes and cuddled against his broad chest. “Go back to sleep, baby.”

You yawned and nodded, drifting back to sleep, stretched and full.

The second time you woke up, Osamu was gently rocking into you.

“Samu,” you mumbled as his cock brushed against that spongy spot inside you.

“Shh, shh, baby, let me take care of ya,” he said. He reached down and circled your clit with his fingers. You moaned softly.

“Ya were squeezin’ me so tight in yer sleep, must’ve been havin’ a good dream,” Osamu teased.

You had, in fact, dreamed of something along the lines of this.

“Dreamt about you,” you moaned, moving your hips against his.

“Yeah?” Osamu asked, timing his slow thrusts with yours. “What about me?”

“This,” you said. “‘Cept you kissed me.”

“Like this?” He asked, kissing you softly. You sighed into the kiss.

“Yeah,” you said, breathlessly after he pulled away.

He leaned his forehead against yours, looking at you with soft, grey eyes.

“Gonna fill ya up again, okay?” Osamu asked. You nodded.

You whined as he pinched your clit, driving you closer to your own orgasm.

“Samu,” you moaned. “Gonna cum.”

“Cum with me, baby,” he moaned. You cried out as you creamed around his cock as he painted your insides white.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a deep kiss.

“Good morning,” you said, pulling away from him.

“Do you want to go to Osaka with me today?” He asked. “I’m opening a new location and need to look at a few different areas.”

“If you make me breakfast,” you said, smiling.

“Deal.” Osamu pecked your lips and slowly pulled out of you before hopping out of your bed.

You sighed happily and laid back in bed for a moment. You listened to Osamu moving around in the kitchen before hopping up and walking into your bathroom.

You quickly showered and brushed your teeth before getting dressed in a short, black skirt and a white Onigiri Miya shirt.

In the kitchen, Osamu had opted to make omurice. He was just plating the second plate when you entered.

“Who said ya could be so cute?” Osamu asked, looking you up and down. You smiled as your cheeks burned.

“Who said you could be so handsome?” You shot back. Even in just a pair of black briefs, Osamu was the most handsome man you’d ever seen.

“Bon appetit,” he said, placing both plates on the table. You smiled as he pulled your chair out for you.

“Thank you,” you said. You ate in relative silence, playing a childish game of footsies under the table.

“Let me go get dressed and we’ll leave,” Osamu said after the two of you finished eating.

“I’ll be here,” you said as he kissed your forehead.

You fiddled with your phone as you waited. You had a few new texts, all from the MSBY boys who had all apparently gotten your number from Osamu the day before.

‘hey it’s uncle tsumu,’ Atsumu texted. You smiled and saved his number under ‘Uncle Tsumu’ before texting back.

‘hi uncle tsumu,’ you responded. You opened and responded to the rest of the boys, saving their numbers and momentarily fangirling over the fact that you now had your favourite volleyball players’ numbers.

“Ready?” Osamu asked, stepping into the kitchen. He was dressed casually, in jeans and an Onigiri Miya shirt that matched your own.

“Nice shirt,” you teased.

“It’s my restaurant,” Osamu said.

You laughed as you followed him out of the door and to the car.

“We have to be back by 7 to pick up yer mom,” Osamu said as he started the car.

You frowned at the mention of her.

“Hey, no pouting,” he said. “I didn’t even sleep with her last night. Like you asked.”

“She’s still your wife, you’re going to have to eventually fuck her again,” you said.

“What do ya want me to do?” Osamu asked. “Leave her?”

You stayed silent.

“Give it some time, it’ll be suspicious if I ask for a divorce right after I met ya,” he said, resting a hand on your thigh.

“How much time?” You asked.

“Let’s say, six months,” he said. “That’s long enough that it doesn’t seem suspicious.”

“You won’t sleep with her?” You asked.

“Promise, princess,” he said.

“What about when I go back to school?” You asked.

“I’ll come visit you,” he said. You nodded, satisfied with his answers.

The ride was long and filled with questions of you and Osamu getting to know each other better.

When you finally arrived in Osaka, Osamu grabbed your hand as you walked towards the subway. You smiled widely and intertwined your fingers with his.

“Don’t wanna lose ya in the crowd,” he teased, pulling you closer to him. You grabbed onto his arm and smiled up at him.

“You’re so tall, I’m pretty sure you could spot me if we got separated,” you said.

“Maybe I just want to hold yer hand,” he said.

“Maybe I want to hold yours,” you said.

He smiled down at you.

It took a few hours to check out three locations for the new Onigiri Miya.

“We still have a few hours before we have to be back,” Osamu said. “Ya wanna go get lunch?”

“Are you asking me on a date, Osamu?” You teased.

“If I am?” He said.

“I’d say yes,” you said.

“Then, I definitely am,” he said, leaning down to press his lips against yours.

You ended up in a small restaurant near the last location you had checked on.

“You come here often?” Osamu joked as you sat at a small table.

“I actually do go to school around here,” you said.

“Really?” Osamu asked. You nodded.

“Kansai University in Suita,” you said.

“Oh, so yer not just good at volleyball, yer smart too?” Osamu asked.

“I am,” you said.

“And humble, wow,” he said. You smiled at him.

“Where did you go to school?” You asked.

“Otemae in Nishinomiya,” Osamu said. “Majored in business.”

“And then you opened Onigiri Miya right after you graduated?” You asked.

“Yep,” he said. The two of you chatted as you ate.

“Ooo, we still have two hours before we have to leave,” Osamu said, glancing at his phone.

“We can just walk around until we find something,” you said. “Who knows, we might find somewhere to put Onigiri Miya.”

Osamu nodded as he paid for your food.

You grabbed his hand as you stepped out onto the street and immediately pulled him down a street of cute, little shops. You wandered into shop after shop, dragging Osamu behind you as you tried on clothes.

“That’s cute,” Osamu said as you twirled around in a sundress covered in sunflowers.

“You think?” You asked. “Not too short?”

“Oh, definitely,” Osamu said, running his hand up your bare thigh. “I can already see the cute little panties you wore today.”

“Samu!” You exclaimed as he popped the elastic of your panties.

“Come on, try something else on,” he said, pushing you back into the dressing room. He closed the door behind him and pushed you against the wall before kneeling in front of you

“Samu,” you whispered as he lifted one of your legs over his shoulder.

“Cute, little cunt,” he said, shamelessly licking over your already wet panties. “Wanted to taste ya since I first saw ya.”

“Samu!” You hissed as he pulled your panties to the side and licked deep into your core.

“Taste so good, baby,” he moaned. You bit back a moan of your own as his plush lips wrapped around your clit.

“Samu,” you moaned softly. You heard a knock at the door.

“Is everything alright in there, Miss?” An employee called.

Osamu sucked harshly at your clit as you tried to respond.

“Ev-everything is fine!” You called back. “Just a little trouble with a zipper.”

“Okay, let me know if you would like any help,” she said.

“Thank you,” you responded.

“Cum for me, princess,” Osamu whispered, inserting two fingers in your sopping cunt. He curled them just right, pressing against that spot inside of you.

“Fuck, Samu,” you moaned. “Gonna cum.”

“Come on, let me taste ya for real,” he said.

You leaned against the wall and tangled your fingers in Osamu’s hair, shoving his face deeper in your pussy as you gushed all over his face.

Osamu pulled back as you breathed heavily. His face glistened with your juices as he smiled widely up at you.

“Fuck you,” you gasped out.

“That’ll have to come later, baby,” he said, standing up. “I’m buying you that dress.”

“Okay,” you said, not having the energy to argue. You slowly redressed in your original clothes and followed Osamu out of the dressing room with the sundress in hand.

The employee pursed her lips as she noticed there were no zippers to be found.

You smiled at her apologetically and left quickly after Osamu paid.

“Wanna suck my dick in a public restroom?” Osamu asked, only half-joking.

“Thought you’d never ask,” you said, smiling as you pushed him into the bathroom only a few doors down from the shop you’d just been in.

You locked the door behind you and fell to your knees in front of Osamu. His cock was straining against his jeans, begging to be let out.

You quickly undid his jeans, pushing them down. His cock bobbed heavily as you pulled his briefs down.

“Fuck,” you mumbled, wrapping your hands around his length. The girth was so great your fingers couldn’t wrap all the way around it. You placed a kitten lick on the pierced tip, slurping up the leaking precum.

“Go ‘head, princess,” Osamu said, grabbing your hair.

“It’s so big,” you said, marvelling at his size. “Is the piercing sensitive?”

“Why don’t ya find out, baby?” Osamu asked. You nodded and took just the tip in your mouth. You gently tongued at the apadravya as Osamu moaned above you.

“Fuck,” he hissed, struggling not to just force his cock down your throat and you sucked the tip. “Can ya take more, princess?”

You hummed and slowly took a few extra inches into your mouth. Your lips were stretched around his cock as you struggled to take more down your throat. You wrapped a hand around the remaining inches and pumped him slowly as you bobbed your head up and down his length.

“Fuck, so good for me,” Osamu moaned. “Made to take my cock, huh? My lil’ cock sleeve.”

You moaned as he pulled you back by your hair. His cock fell from your mouth along with a whine.

“‘m sorry, baby, just need t’ be in ya,” Osamu said. “Promise I’ll let ya suck my cock later.”

Osamu shoved your skirt up and pulled your soaked panties to the side before plunging two fingers in your cunt.

“So wet and ready for me,” Osamu said, curling his fingers inside of you. He pulled his fingers out and sucked them into his mouth, licking them clean. Osamu pushed you against the sink, lifting you up and sitting you on the cool porcelain.

“In me,” you moaned as Osamu’s cock teased your wet folds. “Samu, please.”

“I know ya need me, princess,” Osamu said. “Need me fillin’ up yer sweet, lil’ cunt.”

“Need it,” you whined. He slowly pressed his cock into you, stretching your walls. Your mouth fell open in a silent moan.

“Samu,” you moaned, softly. He nodded as he gently rutted into your tight cunt.

“S’good ‘n tight around me, princess,” Osamu moaned. He reached down and his fingers circled your clit. “Not gonna last long, baby.”

“Make me cum, please, daddy,” you begged.

“What was that, princess?” Osamu asked, moving his fingers faster over your clit. His hips snapped against yours roughly.

“Wanna cum on your cock, daddy,” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer to you.

Osamu groaned as his hips moved faster. “Say that again, princess.”

“Daddy,” you moaned lightly in his ear. Osamu moaned as your walls clenched around him.

“Gonna make you cum on daddy’s cock, princess,” Osamu said. His forehead leaned against yours as he thrusted into you harder. Your walls fluttered as your stomach tightened.

“Daddy, gonna cum,” you gasped. Osamu teased your clit with long fingers.

“Cum around daddy’s cock, baby,” he cooed. You bit his shoulder to muffle your cry as you came. His cock twitched deep inside you and Osamu filled you up.

“Fuck,” Osamu groaned as he came. The two of you panted for a moment, trying to catch your breath.

“Oh,” you breathed as Osamu slowly pulled out of you. He pulled your underwear back over your pussy and helped you stand and straighten out your skirt.

“We’re insatiable,” you said, smiling widely. “Like a bunch of horny teenagers.”

“If you give me a few minutes, we can go again,” Osamu said, fixing his hair in the mirror.

“Well, if we leave now, we can probably fuck in the car on the way back,” you said.

“After you, princess,” Osamu said, holding the door open.

“How was Osaka?” Your mom asked as the three of you sat around the table.

“Fine,” Osamu said. “None of the locations were right, though.”

“We did go to this cute, little restaurant, though,” you said, taking a bite of rice. “And there was this nice boutique we went to.”

“You get anything?” Your mom asked.

“Just a sundress,” you said. “Might wear it to the game tomorrow.”

Osamu coughed and banged on the table as he choked. You patted his back as your mom handed him a glass of water.

“Okay?” You asked as he stopped coughing.

“Fine, fine,” Osamu said, taking a sip of water. “Wrong pipe.”

“You should try on the dress, let me see it,” your mom said, leaning back in her chair as Osamu calmed down.

You bit back a smirk as you nodded. “Of course, Mom. Give me one second.”

You padded down the hallway to your room and quickly changed into the dress.

You twirled around in your dress as you stood in front of your mom and Osamu.

Osamu narrowed his eyes at you as you faced them.

“It’s-It’s a little short, no?” Your mom asked.

“I think it’s cute,” you said, smiling.

“It is a lil’ short,” Osamu said, casually. You glared at him. “Maybe ya should wear something else to the game?”

“Wouldn’t want to distract the players,” your mom said. “Or let someone get too handsy with you.”

“They’re professional athletes, they won’t be distracted,” you said, waving their comments away. “And I’ll be with Osamu, so I’m sure no one would try anything.”

“Wear what ya want,” Osamu said, going back to his dinner.

You rolled your eyes as you sat down at the table. “Was planning on it.”

“Hey, I don’t want you two to argue over this,” your mom said. “You’ve been getting along so well.”

“I’m going to go get ready for bed,” Osamu said. He stood up abruptly, shaking the table.

“Osamu,” your mom called as he walked down the hallway. “What has gotten into him?”

“He’s a man,” you said. “He’s just pissed I wouldn’t listen to him.”

“He probably just wants you to be safe,” your mom said.

“I’m going to change,” you mumbled, standing up. You were walking down the hallway when Osamu pulled you into the bathroom suddenly.

“What the fuck?” You asked as he pushed you against the door. “Mom’s right in the kitchen.”

The shower was running and steam was filling the bathroom quickly.

“It’s that fuckin’ dress,” Osamu said, grinding against you. The towel wrapped low on his hips threatened to fall to the floor. “Jus’ wanna rip it off ya.”

“You’ll have to wait until tomorrow,” you said, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Ya better not leave my side,” he said, kissing your lips.

“Promise,” you mumbled against his plush lips. “Now let me go before my mom catches us in a precarious situation.”

“Get outta here,” Osamu said, opening the door. He smacked your ass as you crossed the hallway into your room.

You changed into a t-shirt and shorts before going to the living room where your mom was watching TV.

“So,” your mom said, looking over at you, “I noticed you had a few… bruises on your neck.”

Your eyes widened as you pulled your phone out and used the camera to look at your neck. It looked like you’d been in a fight.

“I can explain, Mom,” you started.

“So which one is it? I figure it’s one of Osamu’s friends you met yesterday at the restaurant?” She said.

“Uh, yes! Exactly!” You exclaimed. “I actually didn’t work at the restaurant all day.”

“So which one?” Your mom asked excitedly. “Is it Hinata? He’s so cute, I just want to eat him up! Ooo, maybe Sakusa? He’s so dark and mysterious.”

“It’s, um, well,” you stuttered. Osamu chose that moment to enter the room, wearing just a pair of basketball shorts.

“What are we talking about?” He asked, sitting next to your mom. You tried not to frown as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side.

“Just which one of your friends Y/n here was with yesterday,” your mom said, leaning into Osamu’s touch.

“Yesterday?” Osamu asked.

“Oh, you don’t have to keep covering for her,” she said. “Look at her neck! You’re the only one she’s been with, so surely you didn’t give her those.”

“Ah, her neck,” Osamu said. He mouthed an apology as your mom turned back towards you.

“So which one was it?” She asked.

“Um, Bokuto,” you said quickly.

“Bokuto?” She questioned. She looked back at Osamu. “Isn’t he older than you? Sweetie, isn’t he a little too old for you?”

“Surely you don’t have a problem with age gaps,” you said, looking at Osamu pointedly. “Bo’s twenty-six. That’s only five years.”

“You should bring him to dinner before you leave,” your mom said. “Wouldn’t that be nice?”

“Mom, we’re not really, like, a thing,” you said. “It’s really just a casual thing.”

“Nonsense! Invite him over,” she exclaimed.

“I’ll, um, see if he’s free tomorrow at the game,” you said.

“Oh, I wish I could go now!” She said. “I should’ve taken off work.”

“It’s too bad,” you said.

“I’m glad you and Osamu are bonding, though,” she said. “Maybe you’ll come visit more often.”

“Maybe,” you said, noncommittally.

“Well, I’m going to bed,” Osamu said with a yawn. “You two have fun talking boys.”

“I’m actually going to head to bed, too,” you said. “Guess all that travelling today wore me out.”

“Night, you two,” your mom called after you.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Imagine if Meng Shi begged and bargained and collected favors till she was able to send her A-Yao to education with the Lan Sect, perhaps even become a cultivator with them. Would he take that change? Would he become a rogue cultivator? Would the strict rules help curb his inner muderimpuls or enrage him or teach him to hide better?

A Good Fit - ao3

“The…Lan sect?” Meng Yao said doubtfully. “Are you sure?”

“I am sure,” his mother said, her mouth tight. She looked upset, the way she always did these days when he referenced, intentionally or otherwise, the original plan that she had had to send him to join his father, sect leader of Lanling Jin. She’d raised Meng Yao on a steady diet of stories of what his life would be like when his father finally took him back the way he’d promised her he would, stories that had filled his days and nights for years and years and years, and then just last year she’d suddenly stopped talking about it entirely. It was as if the person who’d told those stories had nothing to do with her.

Meng Yao didn’t know what had happened, but he assumed it must have been pretty bad.

“It'll be a good fit,” she added.

“Then I’ll go to the Lan sect,” he said, and pretended not see the way his mother relaxed a little, relieved that he wasn’t asking too many questions. “I’ve heard they are gentlemen there, righteous but gentle; it will be the best match for my personality, I’m sure.”

A lie, of course. ‘Gentlemen’ were just as likely to come to the brothel as brutes, and they were all the same once they had a cup of wine and a beauty in their arms – Meng Yao tried not to have any illusions.

“Can we afford it?” he asked instead, since that was something he was sure his mother would have thought of, would have expected him to ask. “Gusu is so far away…”

“I have obtained a letter from the local sect recommending you to their sect leader, Lan Qiren,” she said. “He’s the one that teaches the classes – the one that sent out the summons asking the subsidiary sects to look for individuals with raw talent to join his classes and offering them an extra seat for their sects for each nameless orphan they find that lives up to Lan sect standards. Only the Heavens know why he’s doing something like that…I assume they’re trying to expand.”

That seemed like the most reasonable explanation. Meng Yao nodded. “So I’ll be traveling with the local sect?”

“That’s right,” his mother said, and raised her chin a little. “At least this much, your mother was able to do for you.”

She’d begged and bargained and traded favors for it, then, Meng Yao thought, and yet taking him along was to their own benefit: if they were looking for inherited cultivation talent sufficient for the Lan sect, then the bastard son of another Great Sect leader would be a better bet than some random nobody. She’d probably humiliated herself for nothing.

“Will you come with me?” he asked, more concerned with that – it was too easy for women of ill repute to disappear into the depths of the city if they didn’t have someone to watch out for them.

Even someone as young as he was. He wished he was older.

“You can come back to visit me during the Spring Festival,” she said, which meant no. “I’ll be all right, A-Yao.”

Meng Yao wasn’t so sure.

Still, not having him around would at least remove a visible reminder of his mother’s age – she’d been kicked out of the better brothels because of him, because no one wanted a woman who was a mother. Leaving would at least do that for her.

“I’ll write,” he finally said. “I’ll write as often as they let me.”

“And I’ll write back,” she promised him, kissing his cheek. “I promise.”

With that, Meng Yao supposed he had to be satisfied.

-

The Lan sect was both exactly like what Meng Yao expected and absolutely nothing at all like anything he could have dreamt.

For the first, his cynicism was almost immediately confirmed: the boys raised there were snobby as anything, looking down at the rest of them as little better than barbarians, and many of the adults were the same way. It was clear that this whole business of recruiting talented nobodies was a project of the sect leader’s – the interim sect leader, no less, not even the real thing – and nobody else’s; they were only just barely going along with it. Adding to that the fact that there were dozens if not hundreds of rules, and Meng Yao could glumly foresee a future of having his lack of knowledge held over his head as a fault, even with his marvelous memory to act as his backing.

For the second…

Well, there was Lan Xichen, who was – as unbelievable as it seemed – to actually embody all those things that people said about gentlemen, all kindness and gentleness and fierce upright pride, except only for real. There was Lan Wangji, who was basically perfect in every way and kinder than he gave the impression he was, willing to help tutor anyone who asked if only they dared disturb his solitude long enough to do so. There was the boy Meng Yao shared a room with, Su She, who’d punched the boy from the Yunping cultivator clan in the mouth for calling Meng Yao a son of a whore and pretended it was because they weren’t allowed to talk about that sort of thing, when actually it’d been because he hadn’t wanted rumors to get around that might make Meng Yao’s life harder in the future.

There was Lan Qiren, who was strict and a little boring but fair, painfully fair, handing out punishments with an equitable hand no matter that it meant that he was punishing the locals as often if not more often. It’d been his idea to bring people like Meng Yao into the Lan sect, and defending the idea was the only time he truly seemed moved to passion. Now that they’d passed the initial examination and been judged to match Lan sect standards, Lan Qiren announced, as far as he was concerned, they were Lan sect just as if they were born there, as if they’d been children of his own.

And he even seemed to really believe it, too.

Today, Meng Yao’s head was still warm from when the stern Teacher Lan had put his hand there, gentle and approving, and his ears still burning from the murmured “Well done, Meng Yao, as expected.”

“I think I would kill someone for him,” Meng Yao said dreamily to Su She, who snorted.

“You’ve got such father issues,” he said disdainfully, as if he didn’t have entire family issues. That was just Su She’s way, though – he bitched and moaned and complained without end, and he’d probably kill someone for Meng Yao if Meng Yao so much as hinted it was something he’d want. They’d made friends for a reason. “You know the bit about the poor kids being his own children is a lie, right?”

“I know which sect’s leader is my father, thanks,” Meng Yao said, rolling his eyes. “I’m well aware it’s not Teacher Lan. Like he’d ever have kids of his own, anyway.”

“That’d require noticing when someone’s flirting with him,” Su She agreed, all solemn for just a moment, and then he dissolved into sniggering giggles. Meng Yao couldn’t blame him: it was, in fact, extremely funny when women (and sometimes men) tried to flirt with Teacher Lan, mostly because of the way that he very genuinely and completely missed that that was what was happening each and every time.

“Laugh all you like,” Meng Yao said peaceably. “You’d kill for him, too.”

“Probably,” Su She agreed. “But only because of you.”

That was fair enough. After getting the lay of the land, Meng Yao had arranged for them to ‘accidentally’ be overheard by Teacher Lan while talking about the misconduct of one of the teachers who was the most biased against guest disciples, one of the ones that had been harassing Su She in particular for over a year before Meng Yao had arrived, and despite Su She’s initial nervousness about the plan, it had all gone splendidly. Sure, they’d been punished to do five copies of a treatise on upright conduct because they’d breached Talking behind the backs of others is prohibited, but the teacher in question had been sentenced to two hundred strikes with the discipline rod for abusing his position and three months of enforced seclusion to contemplate his misbehavior, and then, Teacher Lan had said, his expression dark and threatening, they could discuss what role would be the best fit in the future.

The other teachers had taken notice and shaped up very quickly, after that.

Comparatively, those five copies made in the nice cool Library Pavilion instead of having to do chores on the hottest days of summer? Practically a pat on the back for bringing it to his attention.

Su She would never have dared to raise anything if it was just him, Meng Yao thought; he had a strange fear of authority figures that combined envy and misery in an explosive combination – he would have just suffered and suffered and suffered until he’d been pushed too far and then it would have all burst out at once. He wasn’t like Meng Yao, who was unwilling to keep to his “proper” place and was more than willing to use his greater-than-average share of brains to get what he wanted, no matter what rules he broke in the process. He was the sort of person who was willing to do whatever it took to obtain his desires – no matter what it took.

Well, maybe not no matter what. He wouldn’t want to disappoint Lan Qiren too much.

(Okay, so maybe Su She was right and he had some unresolved father issues. So what if he did? Whose business was it but his?)

-

It’d taken Meng Yao a while to fully adjust to the Cloud Recesses.

Some parts he’d figured out right away – the way they all flattered themselves as gentlemen even if they were actually little more than hypocrites (Teacher Lan and his personally taught nephews exempted, of course), which of course meant that Meng Yao’s ability to act pitiful at the drop of a hat and cleverly turn black into white made him a teacher’s pet at once. The vegetarian meals were easy enough to adapt to, given that his mother hadn’t had the money for meat all that often, and the training and cultivation and all that wasn’t any challenge for his excellent powers of retention – he had ambitions of becoming one of Teacher Lan’s aides one day, and worked assiduously towards that goal. Even waking and sleeping early, which was practically the opposite of his schedule at home, was something he could adjust to, given time and incentive.

It was his mentality that took some time to adjust.

Meng Yao had perhaps grown up with too many of his mother’s stories, painting an image of a matchless paradise – at the start, he looked at everything around him, serene and elegant but not quite as rich and shining and thought that it would do, for now. When he’d first arrived, he had had every intention of making a good reputation for himself and using that reputation to get his real father’s attention – he’d liked Teacher Lan from the beginning, despite his best attempts to not let his heart be swayed, but he’d reasoned that if a teacher was like this, then a blood-related father would be even better.

And so, for the first half-year, he’d treated his time at the Cloud Recesses…not lightly, no. He was extremely serious about making sure to get the maximum benefit he could. And yet, at the same time, he still was not really committing himself to the place.

This wasn’t where he was going to live his whole life, he reasoned; it was just a stepping stone to a better future. That meant he would exert himself to point out things that made him look good, to eliminate obstacles in his path, to win himself allies, but not bother with those longer-term problems, the ones that really ought to be fixed but which would take a great deal of effort with little reward other than annoying people.

His feeling of superiority and emotional distance lasted right up until the first discussion conference.

From a distance, Jin Guangshan was everything Meng Yao could have imagined – perhaps a little too similar to the clients that his mother often saw, a little dissolute to pull off the air of a refined scholar he affected, but wearing more gold than Meng Yao had ever seen in his life, with a retinue of servants that dwarfed the other sect’s. Each of those servants were dressed more finely than even main clan cultivators in some of the smaller sects, and though Meng Yao’s Lan sect guest disciple clothing was of such quality that he didn’t need to fear their disdain, he couldn’t help but be secretly impressed.

He'd exerted himself more than usual to trade away all of his chores and duties, freeing himself up to take on patrol duty near the Jin sect. He’d perhaps daydreamed about some sort of encounter – nothing active on his part, of course, but he couldn’t quite resist playing through some fantasy of catching someone’s eye by chance, getting called over, a “You have a familiar set to your chin, who’s your father?”, a shy halting admission, recognition, a joyous reunion…

Instead, his father spent the entire night getting drunk and cursing the Lan sect’s hospitality for not providing him with girls to go with his liquor, calling Lan Qiren a miserable prude with a stick up his ass right in front of the Lan sect disciples that clenched their fists in barely concealed rage. He’d seen Meng Yao all right, ordered him to come forward, but it’d only been to mock him in front of all of his servants – and not even for being his bastard son, no, that would involve bothering to pick him out from the crowd or to ask who he was. No, he’d mocked him simply for being one of the poor disciples that Lan Qiren had taken in, all because his accent was marked with the distinct tones of Yunping rather than the sweetness of Gusu.

“Tell me, boy,” he said, breathing fumes into Meng Yao’s face and making him feel suddenly as if he’d never left the brothel – that the Cloud Recesses had all been a vague dream, and now he’d woken up and lost it all. “How does that old fart Qiren expect you to pay him back for all he’s done for you? I heard the Lan sect includes a pretty face as one of its standard requirements…”

Meng Yao put his gaze above his father’s head and pretended to be deaf.

“It seems like rather a lot of effort,” one of his father’s attendants remarked. “Even if Second Master Lan wanted a boy to warm his bed, couldn’t he just buy one like any normal person?”

“Bah, boys,” his father said, and leaned back, waving his hands in dismissal. “Why would anyone bother with a boy when you could have a soft woman instead? Just as long as they’re stupid enough – you know, there’s nothing worse than a woman who’s talented and knows it, too smart, always trying to get above their station…”

“You’re thinking about that whore in Yunping again, aren’t you? The one that interrupted your dinner and made a scene, claiming you’d promised to take in the son she bore you?” the attendant said, laughing. “I told you, you should’ve just killed her for her impudence rather than just having her beaten and thrown out. That way the matter wouldn’t still be bothering you…”

“Go away, boy,” another servant said to Meng Yao, who was frozen stiff in belated terror, nausea churning in his stomach as he realized his mother could’ve gone out one day and never come back, and he would never have known why – or maybe it was that he’d been spending his considerable time and brain on pleasing someone who would have done that, who nearly had done that. “Your accent’s brought back bad memories, don’t you see?”

Meng Yao left.

No, to be more blunt: he fled. He ran away, hot tears filling his eyes until he couldn’t see – belly full of regret and disappointment, crushed dreams feeling like broken shards of glass in his mouth and throat.

He tried to tell himself that it was better to find out now, when they were still distant, before he'd sold his soul for the futile chance to get that horrible man's affection, but he couldn't quite throw off the shame of knowing that if he hadn't heard such a thing up front, he probably would have done that. Would have humiliated himself like that, and for what? A man who regretted not murdering his mother?

He ran right into Lan Wangji, who was also on patrol.

Lan Wangji took one look at him and grabbed his wrist, dragging him away from the main pathway and all the way to his uncle’s rooms.

Lan Qiren was still awake despite the late hour, writing something at his desk, but he set aside his brush at once. “What’s going on?” he asked, frowning. “Wangji – Meng Yao – one of you report.”

“Meng Yao was on patrol by the Jin sect,” Lan Wangji explained as Meng Yao furiously tried to dash away his tears using his sleeve.

“Who permitted that? First year disciples aren’t permitted to patrol during discussion conferences,” Lan Qiren asked, his frown deepening. “It wouldn’t be proper – ah, but no, I recall now. I suppose it was inevitable. Wangji, well done, and thank you. You are dismissed.”

After Lan Wangji left, he turned his eyes on Meng Yao.

“You volunteered, didn’t you?” he asked.

Meng Yao felt his back go cold: Lan Qiren knew, then. It had never been said out loud by anyone as far as he knew, and yet it was clear that Lan Qiren knew who his father was – and probably his mother, too.

He knew that Meng Yao was – that he wasn’t anything more than –

“You are one of my most promising disciples, Meng Yao,” Lan Qiren told him, and poured him a cup of tea from his own pot, pressing it into his hands. It was finer tea than Meng Yao had ever had in his life, full of smoke and flavor. “The rules say Be loyal and filial, but they also praise reciprocity. You have not been recognized, and have not received your forefathers’ grace. You can fulfill your obligations to chivalry through your respect for the parent that raised you.”

Meng Yao stared down at the teacup. Lan Qiren had completely misunderstood the nature of Meng Yao’s concern – he was disappointed in what his father was, not worried about not living up to his obligations of being a filial child. And yet it was a little nice to hear that as far as Lan Qiren was concerned, the rules said that he could tell his father go hang for all he cared…

And that he ought to honor his mother, which was something no one who knew her had ever said to him.

“Even if she –” His voice stuttered. “Even if she’s a…”

He couldn’t say the word.

“Appreciate the good people is not qualified by class or profession,” Lan Qiren said, and his monotone voice was blissfully without emotion, as if this were just another lesson in class, and not the deepest hurt of Meng Yao’s life. “I have never met your mother, Meng Yao, but you are a good child – diligent, organized, sincere, with good judgment, and you clearly adore her. That tells me everything I need to know.”

Meng Yao burst into tears.

-

Meng Yao liked Lan Xichen a lot, but he also had to admit that sometimes, the older boy was, well…

“Dumb as a pile of rocks,” Su She announced.

“Do not criticize other people,” Meng Yao said piously, but then chuckled, shaking his head. “Say, rather, that he’s naïve and sheltered, and overly inclined to believe the best in people.”

“Like I said: dumb as rocks. How many times is going to get himself swindled into being someone’s sword or shield before he figures out that the problem is him?”

“Some people don’t have the capacity to understand the depths of humanity’s foulness –”

“Yeah, dumb ones.”

“Su She, please.” Su She held up his hands in surrendered. “At any rate, if Lan-gongzi is going to keep falling for people’s tricks, it’s beholden on us to help protect him.”

“You just don’t want Teacher Lan to be sad about something serious happening to his nephew,” Su She said knowingly, but he was already nodding. “All right, what are we going to do about it? He outranks us. We can’t exactly tell him to his face that he’s being…”

He paused.

Dumb as rocks went unsaid, but then, it didn’t need to be said out loud for the meaning to be clear.

Meng Yao sighed.

“You can only trick someone so many times,” he said. “If we want to keep him from getting tricked by other people, then we have to trick him first. And better.”

“What do you mean?”

“Lan-gongzi likes to save people,” Meng Yao explained. “He really sees himself as a chivalrous gentleman – he puts chivalry first, even though Teacher Lan says Learning comes first. That’s why he always sides with whoever he perceives to be the underdog in a given situation, no matter how wrong that impression is. That’s how most of the people who’ve been tricking him have gone for it: playing the victim, appealing to his sense of righteousness, pulling the curtains over his eyes to obscure what’s actually happening.”

“Okay. So?”

“So, we’ve both got miserable backstories – you being taken from your family at a young age and then bullied, me with my mother and, even worse, father. If we get him on our side, early on, he’ll side with us over anyone else – that way we can keep him from getting roped into other people’s private grudges.”

Su She frowned. “That seems a little manipulative.”

“It’s for his own good, and that’s what’s important,” Meng Yao said, and smiled faintly. “Wouldn’t you agree, Lan-er-gongzi?”

Su She jumped, turning around just in time to see Lan Wangji, who had been standing in the shadow of a nearby tree, step out.

He had a serious expression, as always, but a thoughtful one.

Meng Yao waited patiently.

“You cannot take advantage,” Lan Wangji finally said, and Meng Yao knew he’d won the most important ally in the battle to save Lan Xichen from himself. “That would change it from a virtuous act to a selfish one.”

“Like we need anything from him,” Su She said haughtily. “Maintain your own discipline.”

“Arrogance is forbidden.”

“It’s not arrogance if it’s justified! It’s just self-confidence!”

“Do not argue with family,” Meng Yao quoted, and was pleased to see both of them drop it at once. “Listen, we all share the same goal, and we have to start somewhere, don’t we? We’re stronger together than apart. Together, we can do anything, even protect Lan-gongzi.”

That and more, he thought as the other boys nodded, following his lead. Lan Xichen is just the start.

-

“The Wen sect will make trouble sooner rather than later,” Meng Yao said thoughtfully, one day. His friends turned to look at him. “Yes, I’m serious.”

Lan Wangji nodded, serious as always, but Su She scoffed.

“You can’t even convince that Wei Wuxian boy to leave poor Lan-er-gongzi alone,” he said snidely. “How exactly are you expecting to bring down the Wen sect?”

“I don’t convince Wei Wuxian to leave Lan-er-gongzi alone because Lan-er-gongzi doesn’t want to be left alone,” Meng Yao said. “Obviously. Isn’t that right?”

“You should call me by name,” Lan Wangji said, which wasn’t answering the question and definitely wasn’t denying anything. “You were saying, about the Wen sect?”

Meng Yao smiled.

-

“What brings one of Teacher Lan’s most promising disciples to the Unclean Realm?” Nie Mingjue said, peering at him thoughtfully. “You’re at the wrong time to be one of the usual messengers.”

Meng Yao smiled at him.

“I think you’ll find that we have similar goals, Sect Leader Nie,” he said. “When it comes to making sure that certain people in our lives don’t get hurt by the bad decisions of others, I mean. In your case, it’s your younger brother, who’s a friend of mine –”

Friend, source of information, it was all about the same thing in the end. Meng Yao didn’t have real friends outside the Lan sect, but he’d been very careful to cultivate good relationships with all his most important peers.

“- and for me, well. A teacher for day, a father for a lifetime. I’m sure Sect Leader Nie can understand the importance of protecting one’s father – right?”

“You don’t need to use any sophistry on me,” Nie Mingjue said, rolling his eyes. “If you have an idea on what we can do to stop the Wen sect before they go and burn someone’s house down, I’m all ears.”

By chance, Meng Yao did.

It was a good plan, too, daring and brave in equal measure. If it worked the way he hoped it would, he’d win enough fame to get Jin Guangshan to beg for him to join the Jin sect – not that he would, of course.

Meng Yao knew what he wanted, and he knew how he was going to get it, too.

-

“This is a lovely house, A-Yao,” Meng Shi said, running her hand along one of the soft tapestries on the wall. “Truly lovely. Whoever you rented it from has good taste.”

Meng Yao bowed. “Thank you for the compliment, Mother. I put a lot of thought into it.”

“You own it?” she asked, surprised. “But don’t you live up the mountain, with the sect?”

“I do. This is for you.”

“For – me? A-Yao! This is too much – how much must it have cost–”

“I saved the Lan sect’s core texts from being destroyed,” Meng Yao said. “I’m an inner sect disciple now – I could ask for a dozen houses like this, and they’d grant them to me without blinking twice. Teacher Lan would insist on it.”

“Teacher Lan,” his mother murmured. “That’s the one you’ve taken to treating as your own father, isn’t it? You’ve spoken so much of him, in your letters…”

“There’s no need to scheme,” he told her. “He wouldn’t notice your flirtations, anyway.”

His mother arched her eyebrows at him.

“He’s really oblivious.”

“Still…”

“Really no need,” Meng Yao said, and couldn’t help but smile at the memory of Lan Qiren pulling him into a hug when he realized that the books – and Lan Xichen – were all safe from the Wen sect’s attempt to burn down the Cloud Recesses, and, later, again, that Wen Ruohan was dead. He may have deliberately schemed for that second hug, and he might or might not have plans for more. “He already takes me as a son.”

His mother relaxed.

“Good,” she said, and smiled herself. “So, A-Yao, was I right, all those years ago? Was the Lan sect a good fit for you?”

“Yes, Mother,” Meng Yao said. “Yes, it was.”

[sohin-ace]

Abbachio - Hangover

You walked inside the headquarters that you titled your home.

It was half past 3 A.M and you knew fair well everybody in the team was staying here for the night, and were most likely sleeping soundly like babies at this hour.

And so, with velvety steps and calculated slow movements, you entered the porch and quietly closed the door, moving in the dark as silently as possible.

You had just finished a tiring mission and the one thing you desired most at the moment was to crash into bed, maybe marry it since you were at it, barely thinking about the sticky blood, sweat and dried river water that stained you during your mission.

You huffed and kicked your shoes off, liberating your aching and swollen feet from them, directing yourself towards the kitchen to fetch some well-deserved water that your throat was oh-so desperately screaming for.

You were shocked to find the room lit at this hour. Your first thought was that Bruno was probably still awake and having a small break from his neverending pile of work.

Your expression completely fell, however, upon seeing that Bruno was not the one occupying the kitchen but someone else, greeting you with a heart breaking sight.

"... Leone?"

The male was slumped over the table, his head buried in his arms with one hand holding onto a spilling wine bottle, burgundy liquid running everywhere onto the wooden surface, the floor, and onto the male's clothes. Even some strands of his splayed out hair drank up the alcohol, dying them from silver to violet.

You gasped at the mess but was even more shocked by the implications behind said mess. He didn't even bother taking a glass, prefering downing the wine directly from the bottle. He wasn't planning on holding back tonight and it alarmed you.

You knew of Abbachio's tendency of alchoholism, but he was never so drunk as to black out this way and you weren't sure he would even be able to work tomorrow, or do anything else, for that matter.

"Leone..." You slowly approached his hunched over form and gently shook him. "Caro, wake up."

No response.

With you being all alone in the middle of the night, there weren't much you could do. But there were no way you'd ever leave him in this state.

Shaken with worry, you only did what your heart told you and moved the bottle away from his grip. It was almost empty at this point anyway.

You brushed his long hair to the side to let some fresh air cool his face down while you cleaned and mopped the tiled floor and table. Oh you'd make sure to lecture him about that later.

You thought about him, sitting next to you as you cleaned up. How tormented he was and how, just like the wine bottle, he spilled himself out in secrecy.

You bit back your tears. He was so alone. Tortured. It hurt you that your Leone, whom you loved so much, had to go through a trauma you could never heal for him. Or even soothed in the slightest. You were grateful that he even remotely accepted your affection, but still.

It wasn't enough, for you.

"I wish I could help you, Leone..." You murmured and caressed his soft hair, revealing more of his peaceful face, his smeared makeup not tainting any of his beauty.

Your heart clenched, he looked so calm, so sweet. How did he manage to make grief look so gentle, you would never know. You almost didn't want to move him and disturb him, but you had to.

Carefully holding his shoulders, you pulled him up, his weight much heavier than you'd have expected, even thought it should be no surprise. Abbachio was a burly man.

You craddled his head and placed him in a proper up-sitting position and he groaned.

"Uugh... Hhmmm..."

"Leone, wake up, love." You still held his face against your chest and patted his cheek to wake him, scared that he'd sway and tumble over if you let go of him. "You gotta go to bed. Come on."

"Hmmm.... Sssuuuree...." He mumbled, words slurred.

He was surprisingly compliant, you thought. When you were certain he could hold his own head up, you let go and grabbed his wrist, still drenched in wine.

You hooked his arm around your shoulders and wrapped your own around his torso. He made the effort to stay in balance while you hoisted him up to his feet, not without struggle and effort on your part.

You stumbled a bit, but managed to get him up, at least, holding onto him for dear life as you maneuvered his much heavier body around the kitchen.

He counted on you for support and was close to falling sleeping on you as he snored against your hair, the stench of alcohol reaching your nostrils. Man, why did he have to be the heaviest male of the group?

You brushed your exhaustion from the preceeding mission to the side and dedicated yourself to helping Leone. Rest could wait.

Thanks to the help of your Stand, you ended the course safely back to his room and opened the door, having more hands to do so.

You let him down to sit onto his bed as gently as you could and you felt he was about collapse again.

You instantly wrapped your arms around his shoulders and let him slump over your chest.

"Woa- Don't lay down just yet! I need to get your clothes off."

He only purred some low nonsense, as if to show his annoyance to you. Well, maybe he desperately wanted to sleep, but so did you.

"Don't 'brrr' at me, boy. You're the one who spilled wine all over your pants and top!" You scolded to deaf, or rather drunk ears. Not like he was listening to you, but still.

Huffing a bit, you took hold of the lace on his top and untied it, letting you slide the rest off his broad shoulders and back. It was much easier to slip the sleeves off afterwards, and you were almost proud of yourself.

"I'm gonna be such a good mom." You joked to yourself as you caringly held onto Leone's warm back and head to gently place him down on his bed before taking his shoes and pants off.

Once this was done and not without a pause to catch your breath, you went to the bathroom to grab a towel, dampening it in warm water before you came back to him and sat by his side. He had already fallen fast asleep, and was looking awfully adorable, if you were honest.

" 'Clumsy brat'," You chuckled with a whisper as you wiped the wine off his skin and the sweat and tears off his neck and chest. "That's what you always called me. Ironic."

You looked fondly over at him as you finished your self-assigned task, closing off by wiping his left hand. You thought over your options.

Maybe it was the fatigue blurring your moral code. Or maybe you were just blinded by this crazy thing called love. Perhaps he was just an enticing wizard who cast a spell on you with his lips. Whatever it was, you foolishly decided you would kiss him after you removed his make up, and so you did.

You gently removed what remained of his make up that wasn't washed out by the crying and the drinking. You sighed at your good job and leaned over, running your fingers delicately over his skin.

"This is probably wrong." You hesitated, questioning your choices, yet feeling brave. "But I think I can at least have that, right...? Pardon me for this, Leone."

You closed the distance between you both to press your lips ever-so-sweetly on his own, wanting to linger, but not quite feeling deserving enough either. It was short-lived but precious and tingly. You felt your heart flutter and you swore you also felt his hand twitch slightly next to you.

You sighed. You yearned for more. You wished you could just collapse and fall asleep by him. Your responsibilities thankfully got the best of you.

"I love you. Please love yourself too, we all want to see you better. I know I do. Depend on me sometimes too, okay?" You breathed out to him, secretely hoping he heard you in his dreams and maybe accepted your selfish and heartfelt request.

You were tired. You needed to sleep and you were afraid you'd act more and more foolishly if you stayed with him any longer.

You reluctantly leaned away from him and got up, making sure to tuck him in thoroughly inside the blankets before you left.

You'd leave a note to Bruno to not wake him up in the morning.

When Abbachio woke up in the morning, much later than he usually did, he was disappointed, yet not surprised to be struck with a splitting headache.

"Fuck..." He groaned, holding his heavy head in his hands, "Not again..."

He inhaled deeply only to realise he was strangely met by a sweet familiar scent mixed with the stinging wine he drowned himself in.

Out of doubt, he looked over the bedside table and found a water bottle and some aspirin as well as a small note.

He grabbed the note and squinted at it, trying to read it with his still hazy eyes.

'Water helps with hangover headaches. Tablets too, obviously :P . Take it easy, Bruno gave you the day off.'

Was that you? That was most definitely you, he thought. And that fruity scent on his face and hands must be you too. There were no doubt now.

It didn't take him long to put two and two together. He would have been much quicker-witted if he wasn't so hungover. He remembered you had a mission last night, you probably went home by then and helped him to bed out of sheer empathy, sweet as you were.

Abbachio sighed and rubbed his face. He was both ashamed and extremely grateful towards you. It must have been so draining to come take care of him after you risked your life out there.

God he felt like shit. Again, he was being a burden on the people he loved, all because of his selfish choices. But knowing you, you'd probably hate him thinking that of himself, and tell him you were fine with it and happy to help. You had such a kind heart.

"... How did she even get me upstairs...? This tiny dwarf."

He groaned and sat up, smoothing his fingers over his lips. He blushed at his own thoughts. He swore he dreamt of you kissing him as he was asleep, and the feeling was still pretty vivid.

But he couldn't be sure. Drunken dreams were weird sometimes.

Thinking of making it up to you, he took the medicine and downed it with water, his mind filled with thoughts of you only.

He deserved at least that.

[redswanned]

There Was Only One Bed part 2

AOT boys x Reader (I added more people because wow the first part was so fun to write)

Plot: You and him came back from a mission that left you both insanely tired. It’s too late to go home so you two decide to check into a hotel. There’s only one room left, with only one bed 😳

Levi

lets be real

Levi needs some damn sleep

and he was looking forward to resting after such as long day

but when he heard there was only one bed he kind of just

sighed

of course something has to happen when he just wants to relax

after seeing the cards he was dealt with he felt the most gentlemanly thing to do was offer you the bed

“Here, go to sleep in the bed. I’ll take the floor.”

“But Levi, you’re exhausted!” you pleaded

“I barely even sleep at night the floor is fine.”

not gonna lie it is hard to argue with someone like Levi

but you would not let him sleep on the floor

“You can take half of the bed, I don’t mind,” you told him hoping he’d take the offer

it was late and he knew he’d probably not sleep much at all like usual

he accepted your offer

but only settled at the very edge of the bed

it didn’t look comfortable lol but is Levi ever comfortable

you just shrugged it off before telling him goodnight

that is until you had a nightmare

you dreamt that you were the sole survivor when you and the scouts went to attack Marley

sometimes fellow humans are scarier than titans

you awoke to Levi shaking you concerned

“Hey, you were having a nightmare, are you okay?” he asked genuinely worried

that nightmare was too realistic as you felt tears roll down your cheek

Levi tenderly wiped your tears and felt his heart break at how warm they were and how many there were

“You’re safe here, I’ll make sure of it,” he said as he gingerly caressed your cheek

you slept peacefully later that night safe with Levi by your side 

Bertolt

when Bert saw that there was one bed he immediately felt flustered despite how tired he was

he kinda became a stammering mess

“Y/N, it’s okay you can have it!” 

“I can have what?” you questioned since he just blurted that sentence out

“The... bed” he muttered as he looked at the ground

he didn’t have to make the situation this much more awkward yet here we are

Bertolt being himself lol

but after hearing that he wanted you to have the bed you immediately offered it to him

“No you should have the bed! You’ve done so much today you need to rest,” you said

“No you should have the bed! I sleep really weird so I don’t want to bother you,” he admitted

how weird could he sleep?

maybe he snored? that’s not that weird

you insisted you two could share the bed and place a pillow in between you two

which he reluctantly agreed

it was late after all

you said your goodnights and you drifted off to sleep

until

A LEG LANDS ON YOUR FACE

“AHH!” you jolt awake shoving the leg off your face

and lo and behold

Bertolt is sleeping sideways with his limbs spread all over

“Hey! wake up!!”

“Huh, OH IM SORRY!” Bertolt immediately retracted

“See I told you I sleep weirdly,” he muttered

yeah even the pillow didn’t save you from his legs

“Bertolt it’s totally fine you can’t control it”

this time you both drifted off to sleep

until you felt an arm around you

you opened an eye and yup Bertolt was sleeping weirdly again

but at least his arms are finally around you 

Porco

Porco does come off as an angry guy

he just gets annoyed easily by incompetence 

so when he saw there was only one bed he felt pretty annoyed by the situation

how could they fuck up this badly?

you could sense Porco’s annoyance and exhaustion 

so you decided to offer him the bed

“It’s okay, I’ll be fine on the floor,” you said

“No, I’m not going to let you sleep on the ground because of the hotel’s dumb mistake.”

“I insist! I’ll be-”

“Just take the other half of the bed.”

he did sound pissed but you could tell he cared that you got a good rest after the long day you two had

you climbed into your half of the bed

“Hey, sorry for snapping. I just couldn’t let you sleep on the ground like that,” he said sheepishly as he climbed into his half

you assured him that everything was fine 

“I just can’t believe they managed to get it this wrong! Some hotel they are, I ought to write them a bad review. This is not how I wanted to get in bed with you,” he rambled on

that last part though

W H A T

“Um, Porco?” you asked feeling flustered

“Hmm, what, OH! Um, you didn’t hear that right?” 

you could tell he was flustered as well judging by his flushed cheeks and wide eyes

he didn’t mean to let that out

but thanks to his exhaustion he was being a bit too honest tonight

“You know I hoped we’d be in bed together someday too,” you admitted

he relaxed a little at this but there was an awkward pause

“Wait, you... like me?” he asked

“I have for a while,” you said not making eye contact yet here you were in his bed

“I didn’t think we’d be in bed together when you finally confessed,” he laughed which helped relax you

you spent that night cuddling and giggling as you two learned about how much you two liked each other

and laughing at how the “awful hotel” ended up helping you two finally confess

Colt

ok out of these guys I think Colt is the most gentlemanly 

when he saw that there was one bed he immediately claimed the ground as his sleeping spot

“Colt! That won’t be comfortable at all!”

“It’s okay Y/N, you deserve the bed!”

“Colt, I can see you shivering. Just get into the bed,” you insisted

he was too tired to argue with you so he did as he was told

“Ok but feel free to kick me out any time I won’t be offended I promise!”

you rolled your eyes 

yeah it wasn’t ideal but you both deserved a bed to sleep on after such a long day of taking Marleyan officers’ orders

it was insane how fast Colt fell asleep

seconds after he gave you permission to kick him out he was out cold

you chuckled and turned off the lights to go to bed

you were sleeping peacefully

until

you heard a voice?? at this hour??

your eyes shot open and realized the voice belonged to Colt

who was sleep talking

it sounded like he was telling someone something

“Y/N... and I slept together....No not like that...”

you couldn’t help but to feel a little flustered and amused 

this was entertaining so you kept watching

“Can me and Y/N....be..a reality?”

“Yes,” you muttered in agreement

at this point it looked like Colt had fallen in his dream and shot up awake

“Oh! Hey Y/N, sorry if I woke you up, I just-”

“So you were telling people we slept together?” you teased

Colt paused for a second

“How do you know about that...?”

“Has anyone told you that you sleep talk?”

Colt was a blushing mess now and kept asking how much of it you heard

you shut him up by asking if you and him could be a reality

that instantly answered all his questions

he played it cool though

“Yes, let’s become a reality, you’ll make my dreams come true,” he said

and that’s how you became his dream girl

Zeke

we all know how Zeke feels about mistakes

or as he puts, “miscalculations”

either way he is annoyed that a singular bed has become yet another one of his problems

he’s too tired to deal with this shit

but he also didn’t want to sleep on the ground but he didn’t want you to either

“Want the other half of the bed?” he just asked as he walked towards one side

“Yeah, I guess so. Thanks,” you said as you took the other side

you felt a little more awkward about it than Zeke did but you didn’t want to reject his offer

Just as you were about to go to sleep Zeke spoke up

“Do you think if people just disappeared problems would go away too?”

this was a pretty heavy question

definitely a late night thought

“Not necessarily,” you replied

“Elaborate.”

“Well, I think that people, no matter who they are, will have lasting impacts on the world,” you replied

you both continued having this philosophical discussion

you were impressed with his beliefs on the topic

Zeke was always a mysterious person and it was rare he opened up this way

he alluded that he didn’t have the greatest childhood which you sympathized with

maybe this is why he believed the way he did

you assured him that he was wanted 

“Thank you, it helps hearing someone say that. Even though I have one year left, I agree that my time on this Earth would have an impact. There’s no greater beast than me,” 

you could imagine how his mind was knowing he had a year left

maybe this is why he thought like this 

you lost track of time when you felt his arm envelop you

his warmth lulled you to sleep

thought provoking conversations are tiring but at least you’ve got him next to you

[your-daily-biaswrecking]

I dunno if it's too late to make requests (and u can ignore this message if it is) but I have this idea that I'm completely incapable of writing, I was hoping for maybe..some kind of fantasy scenario where human reader meets fae or siren Taehyung once while they were both children and, maybe they kinda pinky promise to marry one another, only for her to have forgotten about the whole ordeal with time, maybe assuming it was all just her imagination, and years later into her adulthood he comes back, having never forgotten the reader? You can change this however you see fit in order to make it more your style, and smut isnt necessary of you don't want to add it in..😅 💕

You had heard about the stories. Heard about him. Perhaps that’s why you walked into the woods so late at night, with a full moon lighting your way. To see if they were true, or because you already believed them and wanted to see him. The woods, however, were empty and what an unsuspecting fellow would call normal. Undismayed, you sat by the big Oak tree until you felt your eyelids be weighed down from the weariness. For you were only eight and the night was growing older than you. From that point on, you were not sure if you dreamt of the boy or if he shook you awake, but you remembered the interaction like it was yesterday.

“You’re waiting for me.” Not a question but you still took it as one.

“No, I’m waiting for the fairy.”

The boy chuckled. He laid down next to you, eyes sparkling in the dark as if they were luminescent. “I like you. You’re pretty. It’s only why I appeared.”

You thought about all your classmates and your cousin’s friends. None looked like that boy. “I don’t know you.”

“Oh.” He shuffled closer until he could reach to extend a hand to you. “You can call me Taehyung.” You took his hand, introducing yourself as well. “I’m new here. Did I by any chance bother you or your folks? I apologize.”

You shrugged, looking away, still trying to catch a glimpse of the alleged creature that playfully appeared here and there to tease the townspeople. “You’re not bothering me. I don’t know about anyone else, though…”

“Haha.” The boy laughed in a forced way yet it felt genuine. Like he had indeed enjoyed your remark but laughter wasn’t a sound he could make by his nature. “I really like you. You’re very pretty,” he repeated. “Do you want to stay here with me forever?”

You eyed him from your peripheral vision. “You mean like… marry you?”

He frowned for a beat, analyzing your words. And then his face lit up— quite literally. “Yeah!” he chirped. “Yeah, something like that.”

You had never been proposed to before. Sure, you knew about all the boys that had a crush on you at school, and you knew about how cute you were because your parents and their friends always told you so. But Taehyung was better than all of them combined. “Okay,” you replied easily.

The young boy seemed so happy, reached out to grab a piece of your hair. And after a couple of sparks appeared, the strand had been cut off and was trapped between his fingers.

“Hey! What—”

Taehyung brought the strand to the side of his neck, pressing it against his skull, and with a couple more sparks, it was connected with his own hair. Standing out from his locks yet looking like he had grown it himself. “Now we’re married,” he said, speaking the word as if it was foreign to him.

“No,” you immediately interjected. “That’s not how people get married.”

“It’s not?”

You shook your head. “We need to walk down the aisle and have the pastor say I pronounce you husband and wife and kiss.”

“Kiss…” Taehyung gave it some thought. And then he snapped his fingers. “That’s right. We need to kiss.”

“And we can’t get married yet because we’re just children,” you continued to speak your wisdom to the confused boy.

“So when can we?”

“Hm…” You rubbed your chin because you had seen people do it on TV when they tried to think hard. “When we’re old. Like, old like my aunt! She is getting married next month.”

And the boy nodded obediently. “I can wait that long.” For your weird kind of ceremony. For his, you needn’t wait at all. All he needed was… a kiss. He leaned in, lips pursed and going straight for yours. And you gasped, getting up and running away, out of the woods, far from the boy you had just promised to marry.

You never saw him again. Which is why you were inclined to believe it was all just your childhood imagination going wild. Sometimes you got a very sudden urge to think about him, like he was mentally intruding on your life. But the older you got, the less you believed in fairies. And you got old… old like your aunt. And it was your turn to get married now.

Waiting in the dressing room alone to stare at your reflection in that mirror and take a few last, deep breaths before walking out for the nuptial rite, you didn’t expect to be disturbed by a strange and deep voice.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Upon turning around, you saw a man. A novel man. Handsome and somewhat scary as he glared at you and charged towards your spot. “What?” you choked out before clearing your throat. “I- I don’t think you’re supposed to be back here.”

“You’re about to walk down that aisle and have the pastor say I pronounce you husband and wife and kiss that man?” he spoke in a breath, pointing to the door.

You were frozen, looking into his shiny eyes as if you were entranced. Not sure how to react in this odd situation, yet something about the man intriguing you. “Um… yeah?”

“You can’t!” he gasped. Eyes so wide and pleading you silently. “We were supposed to do that.”

“I’m sorry, who are you?”

“I’m your husband.” It wasn’t what you were expecting him to say, not in the slightest, but he seemed so confident of it he almost convinced you. “You’re mine, you can’t marry another man,” he insisted.

And right when you were about to open your mouth to tell him he was being insane, tell him you had no idea who he was and that he needed to get out, he called your name. Called your name in a way that was so fitting for it, like he was the only one who ever should be saying it. You paused, and you frowned. And you looked at him better. The man reached behind his neck and brought forward a strand of hair that didn’t match his own. Didn’t match because that was your hair. That dream… that dream hadn’t been a dream at all.

“I waited for you,” the boy-turned-man whispered, voice sounding as sad as his eyes looked. “I waited for as long as you needed. How can you do this to me?”

Your face was numb. And you shivered, shaking harder the more you let the realization sink in. “Tae- Taehyung?” you gulped. “You’re real?”

The man rushed to you, grabbed your face with both hands gently, fingers stroking your cheeks as if he knew tears were about to fall. “Of course. Who ever told you otherwise?”

You were lost for words, just staring into his eyes that were communicating more than you ever could. The boy from the woods had returned for you, just as promised. And now that he had you, he felt ready to finish what you two had started. This time, when he leaned in with his eyes closed and his lips on a straight line towards yours, you didn’t flinch, you didn’t pull or run away. Maybe it was the shock. Maybe it was just what was meant to happen. He kissed you and everything instantly changed. The bond completed. A bond unlike the mortal rituals you try to parody— that was a bond connecting your souls instead of a verbal agreement that could easily be broken by the human instability. And when he pulled away, you knew it, you felt it; you were indeed his and he was yours. Forever.

“Oh my God,” you mouthed. The feeling crushing you and making your mind race faster and faster. “Oh my— Fuck!” You were his and he was yours now. Forever. What would you do now? There was another man still waiting outside to marry you. “Fuck, fuck!”

“It’s alright,” Taehyung whispered, holding you tighter. Like he knew exactly what you were thinking about or could feel exactly what you felt. Perhaps he could. “Don’t worry. None of that will matter in a bit.”

He scooped your legs, lifting you up with ease you were certain no human being could possess. And he jumped out of the window and landed perfectly, even though that window was so high up. And you were in the woods within a blink of an eye, even though those woods were miles away. By that big, old Oak tree, where it all started. He was right, your meaningless mortal problems already appeared like so; you were with Taehyung now and it all seemed to make more sense than anything ever did in your life.

“You look so pretty,” the man spoke, drawing you back from your thoughts. “Like a fairy.” He chuckled, this time his laughter sounding better than the last. And then he kissed your cheek, and your neck, and it felt like each peck was gifting you whole years of life. “I’ve missed you. You never came to visit.”

“I’m sorry,” you breathed, flustered.

“It’s okay.” He was calm, looking at your eyes that you didn’t even know yet that they shined like his. “We have eternity ahead of us to be together.”

“Eternity?”

He chuckled again, music to your ears. And he leaned in to bite your bottom lip playfully. “Don’t you know, honey? Time flows strangely when you’re married to a fae.”

Masterlist

[natsukitakama]

Being in relationship with Gojo Satoru would include

Author note : got nothing to say about it. I’m his personal hoe even though I’m aware about what Gege-sama said. Let’s say I can’t be saved. It’s too late for that LMAO. Anyway let me know if you enjoy this ♡ (also I changed my head canon’s page setting how does it looks ?) 

Warning : slight nsfw / me simping over a man that would definetly not give me time / also I didn’t catch up with the manga (Japan’s scan cause we’re kinda late in France) 

Update : I didn’t say it obviously I do not own that gif credit to the owner(s) 🙏🏻

Masterlist

Request are Open

a lot of work. 

As Gege said themselves they didn’t see Gojo being faithful or interest on a relationship (still hurt btw) 

But why ?

If we look carefully we can see that his relationship with every superior are pretty densed : he is absolutely against his own cast and I won’t be surprised that he is pretty distant with his family and the member of his clan. Which mean basically they’re not so much people who are closed to him 

He didn’t allow them to be close 

Again since he tends to be pretty narcissistic and is not afraid to threat everyone that might be against him cursed or not. 

So let’s say he got couple of ennemies. 

Then I remembered his first interaction (or at least of the first he got) with Yuta. We all remember what happened to that girl he was so deeply in love, remember what Gojo said ? He actually said that in his opinion love might be the worst cursed or something like that. Meaning he is aware about how dangerous love can be. 

So here’s the thing it’s not like he is not faithful (even though he is into one night stand) but he can’t allow himself to fall himself nor will he let someone falls for him. Because they will became an easy target, they will become his worst weakness. 

Especially since he is super busy it would mean that he couldn’t be with you whenever he wants to.  

So that would explain why he is not really into relationship cause he knows it would be dangerous for him. 

Also I don’t believe he was raised with love, I’m pretty sure he wasn’t closed or never seen any act of love so he is pretty cold about it cause he is used to. 

In addition his personnality is ... well he is piece of works. So it’s not that easy to fall in love with him (I mean deeply in love not just being attracted to his physics) and it’s difficult to make him falls in love too. (It would be for another headcanon) 

But now let’s pretend you went through his childish nature and he let you get to know him and boom you’re started a relationship with him 

He is clingy asf you know that 99% of the time he is walking not giving a single shit about people think about him. That man is so confident he knows no one would dare criticize him for being a clingy or boyfriends and if they do it He would claim that they are just jealous of him. 

Even if he is super chill about everything he would never broke any of your boundary. So if you’re comfortable with him hugging you in public or giving you a deep kiss that’s fine he will keep it for later. 

But that won’t stop that little shit for teasing you. Oh no. It’s even worst if you are shy, oh god he would do anything just to see your cheeks getting red. He just loves it. It’s addictive. 

Cause let’s be real, if he actually started a relationship with you was because he was way too addicted. Your relationship probably started with some one night stand that wasn’t just one but sssh. Then you started to hang out together not dating calling that a date because you guys didn’t want to put a name on it. Then both of you started to be territorial and get upset when one of you flirted with another. It last until You and Gojo couldn’t just sleep or think without being close together. 

He is like a sweet drug you know ? Once you got a bite you can’t just stop. Same way for him as soon as you got him, you won’t be able a le to keep away. 

That also explain why he is clingy he just has to touch you, simple touch deep touch intimate touch he doesn’t care all he needs was you close to him. 

When you guys became serious (put a name on it cause you were already a couple but whatever) the man became even more noisy if that’s even possible. 

He praises you a lot not matter what job you have what passion you’re followed anything. You’re just the best S/O of the entire world. 

Also he show off a lot cause everyone thought Nanami would the first to be in a relationship with a S/O  but he failed 

And oh boy does Gojo loves that. 

He can’t help but remind EVERYONE (including his students of those coming from kyoto) that he is dating you

« Aaah can’t wait to be home I bet Y/N would make those delicious cookies of them. It’s so good to go home to find your beloved. Oh yeah you can’t know that you don’t have a S/O so sad »

You little shit 

As I previously said he tends to not be around that much because of his jobs, but that’s okay he would make it up one way or another. 

I know some people believes that he will take his S/O to the greatest restaurant, or into those luxurious places. It’s true sometimes he just find you to have a good quality time but he also wants to spoil you so it’s good way to do it. 

But most of the time I think he might be into those private date when you’re into a little cafe or having a picnic. Again I don’t think he had the chance to enjoy those private moment with his family when you’re just enjoying the people you loved in the simple way. And he just loves seeing you cook for him it stroke his ego and melt his heart. 

I heard somewhere that he might be touch starved and I agree with that postulate. I do believe he wasn’t raised with love and tenderness so that would explain why he could be so touchy-feely with people and so that’s explain why he is clingy. 

He is definetly into carrying and simple person, he is just a giant baby he loves being taken care of he wants to have your attention 24/7, that’s just who he is. When i said simple,it’s more like not superficial cause he won’t tolerate that he hates when people has the audacity to lie in front of his face or believes they can manipulate him. 

A lot of people tends to think he is stupid or easily to use because of his childish behavior and he hates that. He has a huge ego. 

So he won’t like it if you’re trying to get something from him. If you want to say something just say it. 

Even if he is huge tease he would never judge you or make fun of you (not in a mean way) so he expects you to be blunt about your feelings. If you think he is an idiot for always keeping everything for himself tell him. 

If his S/O is a civilian he might not talk about the jujutsu world at first but then when he realized he was bound to them. Like he couldn’t breath without you he would tell you the truth. 

He kiss a lot. I’m not making the rules he just kiss very easily and each of them have a meaning. Cheeks kiss is to ask you something like buying an ice cream when it’s 4AM (use it with his best puppies eyes cause the fucker knows his effects on you). Nose kiss are like morning kiss, he tends to do it a lot after sex too it’s just another way for him to say I love you but in a cute way. Head kiss is to reassure you that everything would be fine, it’s also his way to comfort you when you’re sad it’s always followed by an « everything would be fine » or « I’m here now it’s okay ». Kiss on your lips could be a way to tempt you for sex who goes along with a bite of your lips of a stroke of your hair, but his kiss on your lips could also be his way to remind you how much he loves and how much he miss you. 

But no worry he is not afraid to tell you he loves you, but he just kept those works for special moment. 

He hugs a lot. From behind when you’re cooking for him, cuddle you while watching a movie or put you against his chest so you would climb around his body like a koala 

Nest your face against his neck and he would melt right now. The feeling of your breath against his skin damn he got shivers all the time 

Time to time don’t forget to stroke his ego like cuddling him and tell him how good you feel like you feel safe. He needs time to time (also even if he might tease you a little bit, do that and you’ll get extra kiss and cuddle time)

Also he can’t say no to you. Puppy eyes are useless just took his hand and ask him slowly to do something and he would do it. 

The problem is you can’t say no to him too. Cause 1) he is super convincing when he wants to 2) because he knows you can’t say no to his pretty face especially his eyes 3) and if you’re fighting his attraction over you he would use puppy eyes on you. So either way he got what he wants. 

You guys definetly got some « sweet » dates at 4 AM : like he just woke up because he dreamt about those delicious mocchi he tastes when he first met Itadori and now all he could think about was those mocchi. So he got you at 4AM to buy and share some mocchi together. Even though you hated being woke up like this you couldn’t help but enjoy the fact that he woke you up so you could share a meal together 

It comes from nowhere but you guys have sex a lot. He is horny it’s written on his face I can’t change that. He is intoxicated he can’t help it but need to feel you clinching around his dick, bitting your lips and scratching his back as he thrust into your core. 

He daydreams a lot and 99% it’s not pure at all

He sext you a lot even during a meeting, he just took his phone and text you about how boring the meeting is and how he wish he could just ravage you in front of them so they would shut up for once. 

He is pretty open about everything when it came to sex it’s not like you can break him or anything but he loves it every time you came to him asking for something you might want to try but be afraid he won’t be agree or might hurt him.

It’s so cute that you thought you could hurt him physically 

Somehow he managed you to have sex in his office which you were kinda up to it but he also convinced you to do it on a car as soon as ljichi left for a call. He can’t help it you were just so cute so tempting looking like this by his side and well he is into semi-public sex he just don’t give up a fuck LMAO who’s gonna say yell at him anyway ? He is THE Gojo Satoru. 

Not sure if I said it before but he won’t mind dating a simple human, he is just so bitter about everything his world is a mess so it’s fine that he can’t be normal, just man hanging around the personne he loves without thinking about his position about his clan, the cursed. Just couple of hours during his day where is just your boyfriend, he cherish that. 

It doesn’t mean he won’t date an exorcist, but it might be even more difficult since he can’t help but wondering if you’re actually into him (which is hard considering his antics) or if you’re into his position. But if you managed to show him that you actually didn’t care about the whole clan, position and everything yeah he would be into you. It would be more simple cause he can be with you 24/7 or at least as much as possible, and protect you even though you don’t actually need someone to take care of you. He just has to do it. 

He spoils a lot, remember how easily he would book a restaurant for his students ? Same things it’s even worse cause sometimes during a mission he walked around a new street and it’s like « damn that’s look yummy » and after being sure nothing could harm you (especially if you’re allergic of If you a vegan or veggies) he would book a reservation and then took you on a date. 

He does that a lot, since he can’t manage to have quality time as much as he wanted he just does things like that so you can share a meal together and also because he can tease you during the whole night then teleport both of you into his house for « sport » activity. 

Also he tends to buy some many things, like he could walked in Tokyo and see a grandma selling some candle he would buy it just because it seemed aesthetic for him, and now everytime he saw something that reminds him of you he buys it. So you guys got plenty of things that you can’t throw away since Gojo linked them with a memory of you. 

Speaking of things who belongs to you, he wears your clothes and you wears his, remember how easily he wore Nobara’s skirt he is pretty skinny he can wear anything and won’t bother asking you first. Just get used to it cause he doesn’t plan on giving up. 

I do believe that a relationship with you force him to be more « mature » or at least not always acting like a child. But let’s be real he would still act like a baby you sign for this. 

In the end it’s an healthy relationship even though he tends to be flirty sometimes, he would be careful if he noticed that you’re not comfortable, or he would make sure to reminds you that he is actually in love with you, he won’t go anywhere. No matter if you’re an exorcist or not, you would still be afraid that one day he won’t comeback, so he makes sure to spoil you, love you to erase that fear. He is the strongest and doesn’t plan on leaving you soon. 

[mercy-burning]

Losing You Twice / 1: If I Hated You

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: It’s Valentine’s Day weekend, and it turns out Y/N isn’t the only one struggling with the breakup. Category: Smut (18+), Angst Content Warnings: Language, drinking/getting drunk, penetrative/unprotected sex (If I missed anything, please let me know!) Word Count: 5,538

SERIES MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

“My bedtime is the darkest, that’s when I’m brokenhearted. The nighttime is the hardest. It’d be easy, if I hated you.” —FLETCHER, If I Hated You

FEBRUARY 13th

It was Valentine's Day weekend, which sucked this time around. Every year for the past three years Y/N looked forward to Valentine's Day, but that was when she actually had someone to spend it with.

Well, someone she actually cared about, anyway... Whether or not Spencer actually knew it, she did really care about him. She was just stupid and didn't say it when he needed to hear it the most.

And now Valentine's Day was on Saturday and Y/N was still without him. Not alone, but still without the man who'd spent the significant holiday with her for the past three years. Memories of their dates and 'afterparties' flooded through her mind as she got ready for work like a montage, a cheesy love-song playlist she'd found on Spotify acting as the soundtrack.

Eventually she sighed and turned it off, opting for something more loud and obnoxious, and therefore not tainted by Spencer's memory. She applied what was left of her makeup and added a pair of earrings before turning the music off altogether and shoving her phone in her bag alongside her keys and other necessities.

Even though she wasn't emotionally prepared for all the cheesy Valentine's things she'd see and hear and experience throughout the weekend, it was still kind of nice to see that things in the bank never changed during the holidays— Everything in her life was so severely different at the moment, that if Marjorie had somehow decided to throw out all her elaborate decorations for each holiday, no matter how small, Y/N would have thought the world was truly ending.

Speaking of, she was met with Marjorie's brighter-than-the-sun smile almost immediately once she set her things in the breakroom.

"How's my little macaron this morning?" she chirped, Y/N chuckling slightly at the nickname— She brought macarons from the bakery down the street on her first birthday she spent at the bank, and ever since then, the older woman had adorned her with the namesake.

"She's alright, Marj... Better now that she's seen you..."

"That boy still on your mind, hon?"

Obviously Marjorie's intentions were good, but Y/N couldn't stand to think about the situation at all, least of all at work... So, setting her jacket on the rack, turned away so that her coworker wouldn't see the visible discomfort on her face, Y/N squeezed her eyes shut and cleared her throat. "So, what are your plans with Geno tomorrow night? Anything special?"

There was a brief pause before Marjorie cleared her throat as well. "Nothing short of our usual dinner plans, my dear. He's been so caught up with work at the Mill lately, I think we're just going to spend the night relaxing."

"Hm," Y/N said shortly, finally turning around and giving her the best smile she could. "Maybe I should take a page from your book and stay in..."

"You weren't going to?"

"No... Britt's been nagging me about getting out there so we're going out tomorrow night. We both haven't been single in a long time, so... Should be fun."

Marjorie didn't look convinced. Either way, she nodded with a smile and walked over to Y/N with something glittery and bright red in her hand— A cheap beaded necklace to clip her nametag onto. She draped it over Y/N's neck and patted her shoulders. "Well, I want you to have fun. And remember that you still have to come to work on Monday. Whatever shenanigans you get into should be reserved for Saturday night only so you can rest properly on Sunday, got it?"

Y/N laughed, thankful for the playful tone in Marjorie's voice. "Yes, Ma'am."

"Oh, I joke, I joke," the older woman said with a bright laugh, turning to walk out of the break room. "A little..."

The smile on Y/N's face only really lasted until after Marjorie was out of sight, then she went into her bag and clipped her nametag onto the red beaded necklace with a sigh.

Was she excited to have a good night out with Britt? Of course. Hell, had it been literally any other day of the year, she would have been practically bouncing off the walls with excitement at the idea of going out to a bar, letting men hit on her until she finally let one of them take her back to his place for the night.

But it just felt like it was too soon.

Either way, she was glad that she'd get to see Britt again, after she'd been on vacation for Christmas and New Year's to see her family and only got back a few weeks ago. She'd seen her on Facetime of course, and they met up once for coffee right after Britt got back from her trip, but a well-needed night out and quality time getting ready together was something that had been missing from their friendship for almost a year.

Y/N knew Britt would most likely spend her time trying to hook them up with end-of-the-night dates, but maybe it wouldn't be so bad...

Even still, sleeping alone the night before was probably one of the worst spells of loneliness she'd ever had. It was normal to be sad spending the first Valentine's Day in years away from a significant other, but knowing how things ended between them—bitter and stained with words left unsaid—this time was just... cold.

And that was putting it lightly.

Y/N laid in bed that night, her eyes wide open and staring at the plastic glow-in-the-dark stars that adorned the ceiling. They used to give her comfort, but now they just reminded her of all the nights she'd spend with Spencer, listening to him tell stories about the constellations. They were some of the most peaceful memories she had.

And now those, too—those stars that had grounded her pretty much all her life and reminded her of the better days—were tainted by her inability to properly communicate.

She almost thought about taking them down.

But if she was really going to get over him this time, for good, then she'd have to learn to make new memories with the stars. Even if it was painful. Even if replacing those memories and writing new ones over them absolutely tore her soul to pieces.

And, as if that pain wasn't enough, that night Y/N dreamt of him, making love to her amongst the stars in every galaxy, only to wake up the next morning cold and alone.

FEBRUARY 14th

She promptly decided that she hated his guts.

It was Valentine's Day, Y/N was respectfully buzzed, and courtesy of two beers and four shots of tequila, she'd just deleted Spencer's number from her phone.

"I'm done," she said, waving a hand at Britt and shoving her phone in her purse. "He doesn't deserve my wallowing."

"Yeah!"

Britt was significantly the more drunk of the two, resulting in a fit of giggles after gaining some stares from the people around them at her sudden outburst.

Y/N smiled, finishing off another shot and shaking her head. "We need more!"

"More shots!" Britt hurried off to grab them, leaving her friend behind with a half-drunken smile that also only felt half-genuine.

Sure, she decided she hated Spencer's guts, but her heart didn't exactly agree well with that sentiment. Even after deleting his number from her phone, after downing all that alcohol, her heart still ached.

Y/N knew deep down that getting over him was going to take some time. A lot of time... But maybe one night of distraction would help.

So the shots kept coming, and by the end of the night, Y/N was just about at her limit.

Which was near black-out drunk. And when you're that drunk you tend to make decisions you wouldn't soberly condone.

Britt got into a cab, and she begged Y/N to come with her, but she assured her friend that she had someone to come pick her up. Eventually the cab driver got tired of their inability to decide, and when Y/N told him to go, he did, leaving her alone on the side of the street at 1am.

Unfortunately, it was incredibly cold, and she didn't really have anyone to come pick her up. And that's where the bad decisions started.

Y/N pulled her phone out, a long sigh escaping her as she dialed the number by heart.

Would he even pick up? He hadn't answered any of her calls or texts before, so why would it have been any different now? Not to mention it was Valentine's Day Weekend. With her luck, he was probably in bed with someone else. Someone who wasn't her. As she listened to the dial tone repeating in her ear, images of him wrapped up with somebody else—sleeping in the bed she'd slept in many times before—clouded her drunken brain and made her more angry than anything.

Her gut twisted, and she almost hung up.

But then the low buzz of the dial tone abruptly stopped and in its place came his voice.

"Y/N?"

Her name on his lips, even through the phone, was grounding, the anger in her system melting away and revealing a coat of drunken relief.

"Spencer! You answered!"

"Yeah... Are you— Is everything okay?"

"Pff, yeah, 'm-fine. Just really fucking cold."

"You're not outside, are you?"

"Duh, I'm outside... I wouldn't be cold in-side... Besides, I didn't call t'alk bout the weather, I need you t'come pick me up."

There was a brief pause, and for a moment Y/N didn't think he was going to say anything she wanted to hear. She swayed on the sidewalk, shivering and praying that he would throw her a bone, even if she'd regret it all in the morning.

"Where are you?" he said finally, and despite herself, she smiled.

FEBRUARY 15th

Spencer couldn't believe he was picking her up at near two in the morning.

Honestly, he'd initially thought about ignoring her call again, but remembering the day it was and taking note of the time, he figured she was most likely in some type of inebriated trouble.

His instincts were right, of course, but he wished that he could have been wrong. He wished she'd only been calling to drunkenly ramble on about how she missed him or maybe how he was stupid and she never wanted to see his face ever again, because that was normal. At least then he could have hung up after she was done and never thought about it again— it was a normal step in any relationship that helped move things along. They could have gotten on with their lives and it would have all been over.

But of course it was never that simple.

Y/N was never that simple.

He pictured her on the street near some bar, alone and cold and drunk, and of course he would have been the only one she could call to rescue her. After all, he'd been pretty much the only thing she'd ever known to make her feel safe.

Still, he wished he was capable of only giving her a ride home and then leaving.

But again, it was never that simple.

It was easy getting her into the car— that wasn't what he was worried about. Rather, it was the fated moment where she'd ask him to stay after he finally got her tucked safely into bed that worried him. Because it was bad enough that it was Y/N... It was her in all her alluring glory, and he'd never been able to deny her anything no matter how badly he tried or wanted to.

Now add on the fact that she was drunk, and most likely sad on their first Valentine's Day apart, and it was a recipe for disaster.

Even if she'd broken his heart, Spencer still cared about her.

Which is why he inevitably agreed to stay, at least until she fell asleep.

He knew her well enough to know all the ways she'd try to get him under the covers with her, so it was a familiar amusement that settled in his being when he was finally able to get on top of the covers with her underneath. But as he entertained her silly little questions with the right answers until she fell asleep, Spencer noticed something else accompanying that amusement.

Guilt.

And then anger for feeling guilty about her sadness— sadness that could have been avoided had she just gotten over whatever was holding her back and either returned his "I love you" or  told him she wasn't feeling the same way just yet.

All she had to do was talk.

He had a right to feel upset about Y/N holding back when he'd been nothing but patient, spending almost every year of their relationship trying to make her see that she had nothing to be afraid of. He'd given her every chance to talk about what she was feeling, whether it was happy or not, and every time she pushed it all away in favor of sex.

That wasn't what he wanted in a relationship, so he ended it. And there was absolutely nothing wrong with that.

So why was he feeling so fucking guilty?

He blamed his good nature and innate need to please people, to make them feel good and happy. But he also blamed Y/N and her adorable drunken sleeping face.

He watched as she slept, willing himself not to forget the way she hurt him. She'd completely stolen his heart and shattered it at the same time, and if he was being honest, she still held some of the pieces. But he couldn't get them back, not if he didn't want to risk shattering her own heart in the process.

It felt like they were tied together by some strong, invisible force that wouldn't break unless both of them broke right along with it.

So... maybe he could afford to leave those pieces of his heart with her. He'd have to if they were going to get out of this alive. Not unscathed, sure, but alive nonetheless.

Once he was sure she was deep in sleep, Spencer quietly and carefully got off the bed and navigated through her apartment, getting her a glass of water and leaving it on the table next to her bed. And because he couldn't help it, he cleaned up some of the clothes that were scattered around her floor, depositing them into the hamper and straightening out a few more things that were out of place.

He looked over at her sleeping figure one more time, sighed, and then left, keeping her bedroom door open just a crack.

***

Spencer knew he shouldn't have stayed longer.

Despite his better judgement, he'd plopped himself down on her couch after making sure she was sound asleep, hoping to catch his breath and sort through what he was feeling before he got behind the wheel. But of course, it was 2am and he was exhausted, and he couldn't stop himself from closing his eyes and drifting off.

And now he was sitting up, looking around the apartment through the lens of morning.

Though the curtains were sheer, they didn't provide much light, but enough of it showed him just how familiar the space was. Y/N hadn't moved anything around. The same art was on the same walls, the potted ivy plant on her mantle sat un-watered and withering, and every book and record and DVD on her shelves was in the exact same spot as they'd all been the last time he was there in December.

Meanwhile, after the breakup he'd re-arranged everything. He was so sure that they were through for good this time around that he wanted a clean slate. Not that he wanted to rid himself of her memory completely, but if he was going to move on from the hold she'd had on him, he had to do something...

And yet, he ended up at her apartment the morning after Valentine's Day all the same.

He heard the shower running faintly a couple rooms away. You didn't have to pass the couch to get there, so maybe she hadn't seen him sleeping and he could get away cleanly.

Spencer scrambled off the couch, thankful that he hadn't removed his jacket or his shoes and that he could just sprint towards the door without having to find any of his belongings.

But as luck would have it, the second he took a step, the shower turned off. He had to get out of there quickly, but if he did then she'd definitely know he'd stayed overnight. But if he went quietly, he wouldn't have enough time before she caught him.

Maybe I could hide...

He shook the thought with a roll of his eyes, settling on the clearest course of action, which was to make as quick of a getaway as he could. He'd try to be quiet as well, though the creaky door was going to be nearly impossible to get through without a sound.

His hand was on the doorknob when he heard her voice.

"You didn't think you could spend the night and then leave without saying goodbye, did 'ja?"

The pure amusement in her tone made his stomach churn, and it wasn't unpleasant in the slightest.

Spencer turned and smiled softly, avoiding looking at her completely. "Sorry. Didn't want to bother you."

"You're never a bother."

That sentiment held less amusement and more sincerity, which was what guided his eyes to meet the woman who said the words.

His stomach twisted again when he saw her, exactly like he knew she'd be— wrapped in nothing but a thin towel with near-dripping hair cascading down her back. Her legs were bare and exposed, the towel not only thin but short, which meant that her chest was also practically spilling out of it. Despite the obvious and inevitable hungover look in her eye, there was also a good splash of that mischief that'd always been there— the kind that spelled out trouble.

He needed to get out of there.

"Well, um... I'm glad I got you home safe," he said, clearing his throat. "I should... I should go."

"You sure you don't wanna stay for breakfast?"

Spencer could have sworn she was teasing him, dangling her body in front of him like a meal they both knew he wouldn't be able to resist. But then she added, "I've got everything I need for your favorite omelet," and he exhaled with a small smile, exhausted with his own mind for convincing him that she was out to pull him back in.

Still, he declined. "No, I... I shouldn't. But, uh, thank you..."

"You sure?"

This time when he looked up at her, she was closer. She was gently striding forward to meet him, and he half thought about backing up towards the door until he realized he was already there.

"I—I'm sure. Really."

"But you drove around all night just to take me home when I was drunk, the least I can do is feed you..."

"Eh, it's alright. It's... Nothing I haven't done before."

She stopped then, her eyes briefly dropping to the floor. It was like her whole demeanor changed—just for a second—from the prowess she'd always been, to what seemed to be a woman filled with sadness and regret. It didn't last long though, just enough for Spencer to notice it before she looked back up at him with that wicked gleam in her eye and a remark right at the tip of her tongue.

"Still. I feel bad, making you do all that for me... Especially now."

He wasn't sure what to make of this... It seemed like she was sincere, but she was also alluring, calling to him like a siren leading him to his ultimate demise. And while he'd come to know that as merely a part of her nature, he couldn't help but shake the feeling that she was doing it on purpose.

She was in a skimpy towel, after all, and she definitely knew how to use that to her advantage.

It didn't help that he didn't have the courage to leave. Everything inside of him right then longed to drop that towel and indulge himself once more. Putting aside all the heartache and the differences they shared, all he felt in that moment was the need to touch her— to get lost in her and never be found again.

She was his fatal flaw, and it was painfully obvious.

Spencer knew he shouldn't have stayed longer...

He was over to her in just three strides, throwing off his jacket and tossing it aside before cradling her face with his hands and bringing their lips together for the first time since Christmas Eve.

The small whine in her throat signaled that she hadn't expected it, but welcomed it all the same. The moment she lifted her arms to wrap around his neck, the towel fell to the floor, and there was no going back.

"What about breakfast?" Y/N breathed out once they pulled away for air.

Spencer contemplated, studying her face, seeing the way her eyes sparkled, and decided on the two words that sealed his fate.

"Screw breakfast."

Their lips were melded together almost as soon as the words left his mouth. And it wasn't long before every other part of their bodies were melded together as well.

Y/N helped him take the rest of his clothes off as they danced around the entryway and the living room. Everything was open, no walls separating the living room from the kitchen, so to compensate for the lack of breakfast they'd be eating, they migrated to the kitchen counter once Spencer had off everything but his boxers.

He trapped her against the cool marble of the countertop, her back hitting it solid and sending a shiver up her spine. Meanwhile his hands roamed her body, unsure of where to be other than on her at all times, whether it be her waist, her stomach, her arms, her breasts, or her ass. He wanted to feel all of her, and quite frankly she wanted the same.

She even told him so, in her own way, by bringing one of her legs up and wrapping it around his waist, pulling him closer to her as she wove her fingers through his hair and tasted his tongue with her own.

The action elicited a groan from his mouth, low and desperate. Spencer settled his hands on her waist and gripped it tight, silently telling her what to do.

So she jumped up and he helped guide her swiftly onto the counter. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist again, and he found himself grinding into her hips, urgent to feel every part of her. And thankfully she was feeling rather desperate herself, because she rolled her hips up into him in return, breaking their mouths apart just briefly to speak.

"Fuck me..."

There was so much he wanted to say to her in that moment— how badly he was feeling about keeping her entertained while he was slowly deteriorating inside from her emotional detachment and rejection, how much she frustrated him, and more prominently, how she was so goddamn impatient and that he was getting there...

But all that he could manage was a broken, desperate whisper of her name.

It was all he'd ever known.

All that frustration... All that anger, heartache, passion, and time apart combined beautifully into those few syllables that made up her name and tore him apart from the inside out.

And his hands were just as destructive.

Spencer deftly dropped his boxers to the ground and pushed forward, almost losing all sense of self the moment the head of his dick finally made contact with her cunt. He made his way inside of her and then used both of his hands to grip her waist and bring her closer, their mouths connecting harshly as they found one another once again.

His grip was bruising— not possessive in any way, but desperate, like he had to cling to her for dear life or he wouldn't live to see another day. He held himself inside her, sighing and whimpering into her mouth as she clenched around him. It was so familiar, so comfortable and exhilarating that he almost didn't even want to move. He thought about staying there, still inside her forever.

But as always, Y/N was insatiable.

She wrapped all her limbs around him and held on, rolling her hips and seeking friction in any way possible when she briefly tore her lips away from his.

"I need you, baby, please..."

Even as his heart started to rumble in his chest, well aware of the fact that she still probably didn't love him the way he loved her, Spencer gave her everything. He pulled out and snapped his hips forward again, setting a strong, steady pace that had Y/N's eyes rolling back, and the payoff of hearing her sigh out his name was more than enough to keep him going.

Her nails dug deliciously into his shoulders, the faint sting adding something reminiscent of gasoline to a fire. The flames grew taller and brighter the more he fucked her, and with each gradual increase of volume and intensity, it was a wonder the whole kitchen around them hadn't literally burst into flames.

That's how they always were.

Together like this, so lost in the high of each others' bodies, it was easy to forget the things that made their relationship so hard. It was easy to let all the negativity slip away into the throes of pent-up, well-needed sex. The high they gave each other was merely that— A high...

A distraction.

And while that's exactly what Y/N needed, what she preferred in most cases, it's what Spencer recognized as completely unhealthy, despite his coming back to it every time.

It's also why he dreaded the moment ending. Because once they came down from the high, all that's left would be sadness, regret... Guilt... Their fire burned hot, brightly and wildly, but in the aftermath would lay only a thick layer of deadly smoke between them— hard to navigate, and nearly impossible to breathe in without suffocating.

So they simply burned and burned and burned...

Spencer gripped her so tight he was sure to leave her with bruising. And in turn Y/N dragged her nails down his back and dug them into his ass, her palm laying firmly over the muscles that aided in fucking her into the marbled surface. She whined out curses and moans, and he cried out broken whispers of her name, pet names, and curses alike.

Even once she'd come, he kept going, willing himself to hold on as long as he could. She whined into his ear at the overstimulation. And rather than keeping her legs wrapped around his body, she decided to spread them wide, perching her heels up on the counter as far as she could go and anchoring her fingers through his hair.

And though she might not have had enough orgasms in her to keep up with him, she welcomed it all the same—She welcomed the burn just as much as he did.

Even still, no fire can burn forever.

All concept of time was lost by the time Spencer finally collapsed forward, completely spent and barely standing on weak legs after coming twice. Y/N held onto him tightly to keep him upwards, lightly massaging his scalp with gentle fingers and closing her eyes as she focused on his breathing— the way it fanned over the skin of her bare shoulder and how it sounded, perfectly in time with hers...

It was the most peaceful she'd been in a long time.

She felt him pull out of her, the both of them groaning at the feeling, and a little at the mess it would make.

Spencer gently peeled his body off of hers, sniffing once and avoiding her eyes. "Sorry... You just got out of the shower..."

"It's fine," Y/N breathed. She begged him silently to look her in the eye, but he remained still... Most likely thinking. She could practically see the cogs turning in his brain.

So, in an effort to lighten the mood a bit, she added with a breathy laugh, "Besides... It's nothing I haven't done before."

The callback to his words—and memories of all the times they'd found themselves in this position before—got Spencer to laugh a little, but he still wouldn't meet her eyes.

Finally, he cleared his throat. "I'll... I'll grab the wipes?"

"Oh. Sure," Y/N returned with a thankful smile. It was hopeful, too, though the moment he was out of eyesight, it turned rather sad.

She'd known that behavior before, seen that hesitation in his movements and that sound in his voice.

It was guilt.

Regret.

Probably a bit of self-hatred, too.

When he returned, a pile of her clothes in hand and the bag of wipes on top, she took them from him with a kind smile and cleaned herself up while he put his clothes back on.

The silence was more uncomfortable than anything either of them had ever experienced.

So much so, that Y/N couldn't even muster up the courage to ask him to stay for breakfast— and she always did after one of their post-break hookups.

Maybe this time really was different.

Spencer was just at the door again when she stopped him.

"Thank you," she said. Her voice was so small, he almost didn't hear it. "For bringing me home..."

But he paused, turned, and finally looked her in the eye.

He almost sunk to his knees right there...

Seeing her, arms crossed like she was trying to keep warm, as her head hung low and she looked up at him through sad, hooded eyelids...

It reminded him of the woman he fell in love with.

But in his peripheral, he saw the towel on the floor and was reminded of the woman who'd shattered his heart.

Spencer cleared his throat. Once upon a time he might have returned her thanks with, Anytime, but... Honestly he wasn't sure there could ever be another time. For his sanity, he'd have to avoid 'anytime' at all costs.

So, he settled on, "You're welcome."

He was glad to see her return his kind smile with one of her own, even if it was tainted with sadness, and a small wave goodbye.

Maybe this time it would stick.

Even still, as he closed the door behind him and made his way to the parking lot, for some reason it didn't quite feel like goodbye.

And some of that deadly smoke that settled in his lungs as he drove further and further away from her apartment was inclined to agree.

***

Neither of them could sleep that night.

While Spencer stared out the window of the jet, a little annoyed to be called out on a case so late but at least thankful for the distraction, Y/N laid in bed, staring at the stars on her ceiling.

The same constellation caught their eye.

Columba.

The Dove.

She hadn't even meant to arrange the stars like that, but one night after a date, they were laying in her bed and Spencer pointed out that the cluster of plastic stars right in the corner of the ceiling looked like Columba.

Y/N fondly remembered Spencer telling her about how it was originally named to represent Noah's dove, which searched for dry land during the great biblical flood and returned carrying an olive branch to make news of its recession— of peace at last.

The memory made her smile. It tugged at her heart and made her dreams of him even more vivid.

All the same, Spencer noticed the constellation outside the jet window and remembered that same night. The smile on her face as he told her the story, the feel of her fingers gliding softly over the bare skin of his forearm...

It was the first night since he'd met her that he thought it.

I love her...

He almost told her then, too, but he was afraid it was too soon. So he refrained.

Looking back, Spencer was starting to regret that— Maybe without that extra time together, breaking up would have been easier. But instead, he gave her more time. He gave himself more time to fall deeper in love with her, and in the end it still wasn't enough.

Now they were both looking at the same constellation, one made of plastic and the other of gas, wondering if their flood would ever recede.

And in the event that it did... Who would be the dove, and what would be their olive branch?

“You know I dream about getting back together in the future, I could focus on you. But if I leave right now, I hope that you don’t find someone that touches you the way that I do...”

***

SERIES TAGLIST:   @reidyoulikeabook​ @yourmisosoup​ @fortheloveofcriminalminds​ @bellzo17​ @altsvu​ @flipperpenguins​ @mcumorningstar​

TAGS NOT WORKING: @reid-to-me @totallyclearwitch

[sunrisefairy]

Chocolate

Pairing: George Weasley x reader

Word count: 1.8k 

Summary: Y/N drunkenly confesses her feelings for George thinking it is actually Fred she’s talking to.

Warning: mentions of alcohol

A/N: I’m having way too much fun writing again, any feedback is always welcomed and if you have any ideas for future one shots let me know :)

Taglist: @hufflepuff5972​ my first little tag list, my heart ❤️ if anyone else wants to be added, just message me

The Gryffindor common room floor feels like it’s about to take flight with the vibrations from the multiple speakers set up around the room. The Gryffindor quidditch team had won the first game of the year against Slytherin so of course celebrations were in order.

You found herself in the middle of the makeshift dance floor with Alicia and Angelina dancing and singing, no screaming to the music. You jump up on the nearby table taking a big swig of some fire whiskey. You start to swing your hips to the music and continue yelling the lyrics to your favourite song which just started playing. You hear a few people below whistling and cheering you on.

“Yeah! Go Y/N! Woo!” You think it was Angelina calling out, acting as your hype woman.

As the song comes to an end you jump off the table feeling like a rock star. As your feet make contact with the floor you stumble. Your legs seem to give way, maybe it was because of the way you landed but it was most likely because of the amount of alcohol running through your system, you fell to the floor.

“Woah Y/N are you okay?” Alicia was immediately by your side helping you up. You couldn’t control the giggles escaping from your mouth.

“M’ fine babe just need ‘nother drink” your words mixing into each other.

Alicia shakes her head at your drunken state, “I think you need to slow down love. C’mon, come sit down while I get you some water” Alicia guides you over to the couches on the corner of the common room, looking for a free one which isn’t occupied by a couple making out, she spots George sitting alone, perfect she thinks, a mischief glint in her eyes.

“Hey, do you mind watching this one for a minute?” Alicia practically pushes you onto the couch and you might as well be sitting on George’s lap with how close you are to him. The redhead just laughs and nods his head at Alicia who disappears back through the crowd.

The thing with being drunk is your vision tends to get blurry which is exactly what had happened to you, your surroundings becoming fuzzy. Fred and George can be tough to tell apart on a good day so add

some alcohol into the mix and some might find it near impossible. You always prided yourself on the ability to tell the 2 twins apart, noticing subtle differences in their appearance and the way they spoke which helped you realise which one was which. Although the butterflies George never failed to give you when he was in the same room as you, helped you in telling who was who. However right now in this moment you were absolutely certain the redhead sitting next to you was Fred, oh how wrong you were.

“Havin’ a good night then little one?” George says, placing an arm around your shoulder in an attempt to steady your swaying body, maybe using that as an excuse to be close to you.

“Oh loads” you yell over the thumping music, “my foot is kinda sore though, actually ya know what might fix that?” George is too entertained by your drunken rambling to answer. “I think some chocolate will help, don’t ya think chocolate just fixes everything, maybe chocolate has somethin’ magical in it. Don’t you think chocolate is just delicious?” you hiccup, George nods amused.

Your eyes widen as you’re reminded of something “Oh Freddie, I think I know why I love chocolate so much” George doesn’t think he heard you right, did you just call him Fred? He goes to correct you, but you keep talking.

“Chocolate tastes so warm and sweet, it reminds me of Georges eyes, his eyes are so warm and sweet to look at” you say almost dreamingly, George shuts his mouth pretty quickly. “George has the prettiest eyes. I mean he’s got the prettiest everything. His face is like, like it was crafted by angels. And he’s so funny, everything he says makes me smile, I like him so much Freddie.”

George thinks he must be dreaming, surely he hadn’t heard you correctly. You feel your eyes growing heavier by the second, resting your head on the redhead’s shoulder.

“Freddie, promise me you won’t tell George, I couldn’t take it if he doesn’t like me back.” You say curling into his side.

George doesn’t know what to say, part of him wants to tell you that he isn’t actually Fred, that he’s George and he does like you back but the other part of him kind of feels embarrassed he didn’t say anything sooner, so he opts for:

“I’m sure he likes you too.” He doesn’t think you heard it though, judging from the light snores coming from your mouth.

At that point Alicia is back in front of them, thanking George for watching you while she was gone, with a little struggle she is walking you back to your dorm.

~~~

The next morning George is sitting with Lee and Fred in the great hall, spilling everything Y/N said last night.

“I knew she liked you!” Lee exclaims, “like she’s always staring at you during class.”

Fred chuckles “maybe she thought she was staring at me.”

George shoves him in the chest, shaking his head. The tall boy is nervous to see you today. He isn’t sure what he is going to say, George knows he needs to tell you that he feels the same way but a part of him is worried you didn’t actually mean what you said. You were very drunk and drunk people tend to say some random stuff. He doesn’t have much time to dwell over it because he spots you and Angelina walking into the great hall. Your hair is a little crazy, obviously quickly been thrown in a bun and you clearly are sporting a killer hangover but he still thinks you look divine.

“Surprised to see you up so early Y/N, you were very intoxicated last night” Lee laughs as you and Angelina sit down.

You groan, rubbing your eyes “I’m surprised too, I feel like a zombie and my ankle hurts.”

Fred laughs loudly after sending a wink Angelina’s way, “that’s probably from when you jumped off the table after your little dance performance. You went tumbling down. It was hilarious” George whacks his twin over the head, eyeing you slightly as you put some toast on your plate.

“Merlin, I don’t remember that or anything from last night to be honest. It’s all so fuzzy” you mumble as you take a large bite of your toast.

George feels his heart drop a little, although last night you hadn’t realised it was actually him you were talking to, he thought it would be easier to confess his feelings if you actually remember last night, now he was too scared.

~~~

Later that day you and Angelina are back in your dorm room laying on your bed with Alicia talking about previous night.

“What even happened last night? The last thing I remember is dancing and that’s it” you laugh as you flick through a magazine.

“So you don’t remember chatting to George on the couch before passing out? You can thank me for that Y/N, I had the brilliant idea of having George look after you while I went to fetch you some water” Alicia grins.

Alicia and Angelina were the only ones who knew of your major crush on the tall sweet redhead. Many times, they have tried to convince you to just tell George how you feel and even try to meddle themselves.

You furrow your eyebrows, trying to remember if you said anything embarrassing to the boy.

“Huh, are you sure it was George? I swear I was chatting to Fred last night” you chuckle remembering some of your conversation.

Alicia shook her head, “nope it was definitely George, I know that for a fact because when I left to get your water, I passed Fred and Angelina making out” Alicia elbows Angelina’s side who is blushing profusely.

You shrug your shoulders, “well me and George then were having a pretty weird conversation about chocolate actually. I thought it would heal my sore ankle” the girls all giggle as you continue, “it was very random we were talking about chocolate and then…” your voice fades into silence as you remember how that conversation went.

Alicia and Angelina are confused as you leap of the bed and start running out the door, “wait what happened?” you hear Angelina yell as you run out of the room.

Your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest, you need to find George. You are beyond embarrassed that you basically confessed your love to George, the whole conversation becoming clearer and clearer in your brain. But you are unsure if you had dreamt the reply Fred, no George had given you as you drifted off to sleep on that couch.

You enter the common room, scanning for a particular redhead who you find sitting on the couch with Fred and Lee. You run up to the group, out of breath.

“Did you mean what you said last night?” you blurt out, feeling very, very nervous.

George break eye contact from whatever he was originally looking at and meets your eyes which are desperately searching for a response “what?” he squeaks out.

Fred and Lee share a look at each other and move from the couch, figuring out that the pair need some privacy although they do continue listening to the conversation from the other end of the common room.

“Last night. On the couch. I told you that I liked you, well, I said I liked George because I thought I was talking to Fred. And then you said ‘I’m sure he likes you too’ so do you? Like me?” you feel like your heart is going to explode and you are well aware of the multiple pairs of eyes staring at yours and Georges exchange which is making you extra scared of the potential rejection.

George nods, not really confident enough to speak right now. What you do next surprises him. If he wasn’t already sitting down, he might have fallen over with the force of you leaping towards him. You wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips to his. George immediately grips your waist and kisses you back. You can hear some people cheering in the background which makes you smile into the kiss.

You pull away slightly breathless, “that’s good then,” George chuckles and you hear Fred from somewhere behind you say rather loudly to Lee.

“Imagine if she kissed the wrong twin.”

“Shut up Fred” You and George say simultaneously.  

[cafedanslanuit]

sometimes ending a relationship is the only way to help each other. at least that’s what you tell yourself on your way back home to your fiancé.

♡   —   pairing: reiner braun x reader / zeke jaeger x reader (mentioned but not described)

♡   —   tags/warnings: female reader, suggestive but not explicit, cheating, angst, canon compliant, toxic relationships (not romanticized)

♡   —   a/n: heavily inspired by miley cyrus’ ‘angels like you’, hence the title.

♡   —   length: 2.2k

♡   —   masterlist

Liberio at night was never a pretty sight.

As you walked home, you noticed all the small details you never took the time to see. The puddles of sewer water on the streets, the stench of urine in the corners close to bars and the sound of rats running around, too afraid to come in the light. Your thighs hurt every step you gave and you couldn’t ignore the burning sensation between your legs. Memories of grunts and your nails digging on a man’s back flooded your mind, making you shake your head in a vague attempt to get rid of them.

You knew well you couldn’t ever get rid of them.

You thought of everything that led you to Zeke’s office late that night. Of course, it was about delivering some documents that could have been delivered the next morning and staying for a cigarette even if you had quit smoking years ago. And before you knew it, Chief Jaeger was fucking you on his desk, your legs around his waist, his forehead pressing to your shoulder and his hands grabbing your ass as he roughly pounded against you.

You wished there was a part of yourself that truly believed you didn’t know this was coming, that you hadn’t let your skirt rile up when you crossed your legs neither smiled bashfully at Zeke’s compliments about how beautiful you looked that night. You wished there was a part of you that was really attracted to him, a part of you that really wanted him to fuck you seneseless and leave you a sweating mess over his desk as he pulled up his pants.

But you knew better than that.

You opened the door to your small house, not bothering in turning on the lights. Maybe this was for the best, you told yourself. It was the best decision you could make. Well, it had to be, or else you had broken a man without a purpose.

On your way to your bedroom, you noticed a new framed photo on the wall, making you stop in your tracks. You remembered taking it a little more than a week ago and you figured it must have been delivered while you were gone. Reiner, his mom and you were smiling at the camera and if you hadn’t known both Brauns as much as you did, you could have sworn their smile was genuine.

Your eyes fixated on Reiner’s soft expression, one of his hands on your shoulder and the other one over his mom’s. He had barely talked to you since returning from his long mission in Paradis, refusing to answer any of your questions regarding how he was feeling or what had happened during the years he was gone. Reiner had never been one to share too much. You still remembered how long it took him to tell you the truth about his absent father on an Autumn afternoon, his face pressed on your thighs, his shoulders shaking violently as he told you the truth that had been tormenting him for years. You were twelve, just one year older than him, yet you listened and ran your fingers through his blond locks, trying to comfort him the best way you knew. Four years passed by and every night you would pray for his safety and that he would return to you. You knew he was a warrior and that he was good at what he did but you couldn’t fight the feeling that you just wanted him to rest. 

The first time you saw Reiner after his mission in Paradis, you couldn’t stop yourself from crying. No matter how tightly Reiner held you, assuring you he was in fact there and that it wasn’t another one of your dreams. He was hurried by his mother to leave you and go back to his home, which he did, not before asking you to meet him at your spot at midnight.

Reiner was your first kiss. And how happy you were that you had waited for him.

As short-lived as your romance was before he had to leave for war again, you couldn’t help but notice the weight over his shoulder had only increased. Only this time, he wouldn’t talk about what he saw or experienced at the island. You tried to be understanding, even if it pained you to see his disassociated eyes look at the horizon whenever he was too much in his head.

Before Reiner went to war, he promised he would marry you when he got back. You had smiled brightly between tears and told him you would wait for him, no matter how long he took. Both of you kept on your promises, with him buying a small house inside of Liberio just for the two of you and you organizing a small but lovely wedding that would happen in a few months.

That was supposed to happen in a few months.

Now you wondered where it was that you lost him. Had a part of him died in Paradis? Had it been the war that had finally sent him over the edge. You weren’t sure. All you knew was that the Reiner sleeping on your bed wasn’t the boy who had cried on your lap anymore.

Not having enough with dancing around your questions about his feelings, he also expected you to act like he wasn’t having nightmares every night. That you didn’t see him sitting up with a panicked expression, covered in sweat. Whenever you tried to reach for him, he would elude your touch, not even caring to acknowledge your questions about what he had dreamt about or how you could help.

He hadn’t shared a word with you after coming back home from your engagement celebration. Even if the whole afternoon he had his arm around your waist and would press kisses on your forehead and temple at any moment, it all went away when he stepped inside your new home.  You still remembered the knot in your throat from when he refused your offer to have some tea on your balcony, just the two of you. Reiner turned to leave so quickly he didn’t notice the tears streaming down your cheeks.

You didn’t know what happened on that island and you probably would never know but you were sure the man who you had been sharing a bed with wasn’t Reiner anymore.

Your eyes looked at Mrs. Braun in the photo, a sour taste filling your mouth. Even if her smile was gentle, you couldn’t easily forget that only a few minutes before the photo, she had told Reiner you were just an orphan trying to profit from his warrior status and that he should break the engagement, that a promise he made when he was sixteen meant nothing. Reiner’s eyes met yours for a brief second and just when you thought he was going to say something to defend you, he lowered his head, continuing to listen to his mother’s yells while she pretended you were not in the same room.

You took the photo off the wall and placed it face down on the table.

Resuming your steps, you stepped into your bedroom. Reiner was sound asleep on your bed, the sheet not big enough to cover his brod, bare shoulders. For a minute, you just watched him sleep, taking in everything you had loved for years about him. From the way his brow creased to the small mole next to his ear, to the way his hair looked when it was messy. You hated the way his image made you smile even as you were about to lose him for good.

Taking a deep breath, you turned the lights on. Reiner’s light sleep was evident when he started blinking a few seconds later, a confused look on his face until his eyes met yours.

"I fucked Zeke tonight."

A truth. You thought it was always easier when you start with one. Reiner stayed still for a moment, his still confused mind trying to process your words. You watched him in silence, waiting for his response. He was never violent so you weren’t afraid but you knew that night everything was going to change.

Reiner passed one of his hands across his hair, letting out a long sigh.

"Okay."

You furrowed your eyebrows. You opened your mouth and then closed it, not believing you had heard him correctly.

"Okay?"

"I just want to sleep," he exhaled, laying his head on the pillow once again and closing his eyes. You took some steps further until you were standing next to him.

"Reiner, I fucked Zeke Jaeger in his office an hour ago."

"Yeah, you just told me," Reiner muttered, his eyes still closed.

That’s when it hit you. You took the sheets covering his body and pulled them away hastily, forcing him to open his eyes.

"Do you really not fucking care!?" you spat, your voice breaking at the end.

For a few seconds, Reiner remained quiet, not an inch of his body moving. You were breathing heavily, eyes filled with tears that threatened to fall. It was all coming down to this and a part of you still couldn’t believe this is how you were going to say goodbye. Was he truly the man you had loved for the last ten years? Did you really mean so little in his mind? You watched him sit up on the bed, his honey eyes finally facing yours.

"Of course I care that my fiancée slept with the Chief. Of course, I care, fuck— I hate it. I fucking hate it and I wish I could stop imagining it happening inside my head,” Reiner said, gesturing towards his temple, his voice hoarse and pained. “Because it is. Believe me when I say I keep replaying those thoughts in my head, over and over and over,” he hissed, his lips forming a thin line. “But why— why would I feel entitled to say anything when I'm the one that's been fucking things up with you?" he asked, his palm hitting his chest forcefully.

The tears you promised not to shed were already falling from your eyes, your face twisting in a scowl.

“We're not good for each other. We haven’t been for a while, Reiner. So please, please, lets just— we need to let each other go,” you pleaded.

“It’s not like that, we’re not— fuck,” Reiner sighed, covering his face with his hands. “I’m sorry. I am, I just— I can’t,” he choked.

“It’s not your fault,” you assured him in a softer voice. Tentatively, you put your hand over his shoulder, rubbing it gently. You saw his body melt under your touch, his left hand immediately reaching for yours in search for comfort. “I’m not what you need right now, Reiner. We’re only hurting each other by playing this long game of pretend. And… I’m tired. I’m so tired,” you cried.

His hand squeezed yours in a vain attempt to calm you down. It only increased the sobs, making you remember all the times he had taken your hand underneath the table whenever he noticed you were anxious in a social gathering or kissed each one of your knuckles, making you laugh even when you had just been crying.

“Guess your mom was right when she told you I wasn’t good enough for you,” you chuckled sadly.

“Don’t say that,” he shook his head, taking your hand to his mouth and pressing a kiss on the back of your hand. Reluctantly, you pulled your hand away from his, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“But it’s true. I— I fucked up. I fucked up big time, Reiner. And now… now we’re done,” you breathed out, looking at your shoes. “We can’t just keep pretending everything is fine when—"

"Let's go to sleep.”

You choked on a sob, your eyes snapping back to his. “Reiner,” you whispered.

"I promise we'll talk in the morning. Just come here" he said, shifting on the bed to make space for you. You looked at the sheets, your body not moving a fraction. “Please,” he almost begged, his voice making your heart clench in pain.

You held on his powerful gaze, lips parted in dismay. Both of you stayed in silence for longer than you could register and even if he wasn’t talking, you could recognize the utter necessity of having you close in his eyes, even if he was aware of the lie you had fabricated together. You finally yielded and you looked away, nodding idly as you wiped the tears off your face. Your body and mind had surrendered one more time, just like you told yourself you wouldn’t.

"Let me take a shower first,” you muttered, taking off your coat.

"No," Reiner quipped. You turned to him, confused, and now he was the one to avoid your gaze. "I don't care, just... let's go to sleep.”

Kicking your shoes off, you got into bed with him, his arms around your body feeling so foreign you felt yourself on the verge of breaking down once again. Reiner buried his face on your neck, pretending he didn’t recognize the strong male perfume lingering on your skin, instead massaging the plush of your hips with his thumb softly.

"I love you," he whispered. Your eyes filled with tears once more.

"I love you too," you mumbled back.

You knew you both meant it.

Maybe that's what hurt the most.

[rebelwrites]

Let’s Get Out Of Here (NSFW)

Clay Spenser x Reader

A/N REBEL SMUT IS BACK 😜

Warnings: I think it’s just unprotected sex

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Clay Spenser Masterlist

This Months Writing

He knew what he was doing when he came strolling into the pub, straight from hitting the gym, wearing that tight shirt. He was playing a game and you were falling for it. Just like you did every single time but things never happened because one or both of you got far too drunk and ended up staggering back home. But not tonight, you were determined to get the taste of the golden boy.

So here you were leaning against the bar chatting to Jase, but got completely distracted as Clay walked in, with that god damn smirk on his face that always made you weak at the knees. And the bastard had the audacity to wink at you, sending your brain into a frenzy.

“Earth to Y/N” Jason laughed waving his hand in front of your face bringing you back to reality. “You back with us, we lost you there for a moment kiddo”

“Yeah, yeah I’m back” you nodded as you looked away from Clay and back to Jase.

That was another reason nothing had happened between you and Clay, you were deemed off limits. The first day you hung around with the guys he made it very clear you were off limits. Which sucked but you knew he was just following your dads wishes and protecting you, but it was a bit of a buzzkill with someone who you saw as an Uncle basically cock blocked you from the start.

“What were you staring at anyway?” He asked standing next to you following your gaze to a certain blonde. “Oh should have known, anything I should be worried about?”

“Nah” you laughed knocking the shot back “Well not yet anyway, just close your eyes, don’t watch me tonight or something. I’m done playing games.

“Wondered when you’d grow some balls kiddo” Jase laughed as he kissed the top of your head “Knew something would happen between you two, I’ve seen it bubbling away for the last few months now”

“So you aren’t gonna go into protective dad mode?” You asked, raising your brow at him.

“Like you said, I just won’t look, can’t do anything if I can’t see” he laughed “Go get him tiger”

You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself as you grabbed the tray of shots and your beer before heading over to the pool table where the rest of the guys were.

“Fear not the life of the party has landed” you grinned, placing the shots down on the pool table.

“But I’m already here Princess” Clay smirked, winking at you again as he reached for his shot.

“Fuck you Blondie” you grinned, knocking the shot back.

“I mean you could but I don’t think you could handle me” he laughed making you roll your eyes.

“More like you couldn’t handle me pretty boy” you winked, slapping his chest before wandering over to Sonny.

You had a plan and it was going to work this time, you were going to tease the fuck out of him until he caved. So you purposely position yourself on the pool table as you racked the balls up, your ass in his eyeline. A small smirk appeared on your face as you heard Brock say something about him staring and having a death wish.

Looking up Sonny shook his head at you laughing. He knew what you were doing, he always knew and loved watching things play out as it meant he had more ammo to throw at Clay.

As the night went on, Clay didn’t take the bait anymore and it was starting to annoy you now so you upped your game as you learn forward to take your shot, looking up from the pool cue, you locked eyes with him, slowly running your tongue over your bottoms lip before pulling it between your teeth. You didn’t know if your eyes were playing tricks on you but you swore his eyes darkened with lust and he gulped but you couldn’t say for sure.

But you weren't giving up, all you had to do was keep giving him the look whilst biting your lip and he would be putty in your hands. It also helped the dirty thoughts you were thinking as you ran your eyes over his body.

Just like you thought, it didn’t take long for him to cave as the moment you had finished the game of pool, he grabbed your wrist pulling you into his body, backing you into the wall behind you. The moment your back hit the wall you heard Sonny wolf whistle but you blocked him out only focusing on the feeling of Clay’s body pressed against you making you bite your lip again.

Your whole body was tingling and felt like it was on fire as he pinned your arms above your head, dropping his face so his lips were only inches away from yours, he was so close you could smell the beer on his breath.

“You’ve been giving me bedroom eyes for the past half an hour, time to tell me what exactly, was on your mind.” He said slowly whilst maintaining eye contact.

“Maybe you will never find out” you giggled.

“You and I both know that I will find out” he hummed as he moved his hips, slowly grinding against you, you couldn’t help but moan at the feeling, making him smirk.

Everything happened so fast, his hands moved from your wrists, running down your body until he was cupping your ass, you got the message loud and clear as you jumped up, wrapping your arms around his neck and legs around his waist, allowing him to get closer to you, his lips connected with yours as he pressed you against the wall.

The kiss was hot, heavy and full of lust. You know you were screwed as just one kiss left you feeling like you were floating so you had a feeling anything more would kill you off but it was a price you were willing to play, especially when he depended the kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth as you said the unspoken words you both had, right there in the pub pinned against the wall.

If you could you would have ripped his clothes off him right then and there but unfortunately that wasn’t an option and neither was taking this any further, especially with Sonny around.

“Oooooh shit” he shouted slamming his hands on the pool table making you and Clay pull away from each other, but maintaining eye contact. “Some babies are being made tonight ladies and gentlemen”

Resting your forehead against Clay’s you let out a breathless laugh. You couldn’t help yourself as you got lost in his eyes. There was no going back now, the line had been crossed.

“Let’s get out of here” he whispered against your lips before stealing another kiss. “Before either of us get to drunk to carry this on”

“Your place is closer” you giggled as he gently set you down on the ground, the moment your feet touched the ground you stole his cap, it just had to be done, something you always did, placing the cap backwards on your head you ran your hand down his chest, linking your fingers with his, guiding him through the crowd with everyone whistling behind you.

The walk to his place didn’t take long but the air around you was different, the banter had turned a lot more flirty and you were both itching to get behind closed doors to finish what you had started.

The moment you walked into his apartment and the door was locked you were dragged to the bedroom, and pushed down onto the bed, and a topless Clay pinned you down with his body, you felt so happy to finally be able to roam his sculpted body with yours hands.

No words were spoken as Clay dipped his head down, brushing your hair off your shoulder, placing hot kisses down your neck, instantly making you feel weak especially when he nipped at your skin. You were under his spell and was loving it, soft moans left your lips as you bucked your hips up against him trying to get some friction.

“You don’t know how many times I’ve dreamt of this moment” you breathed as he repositioned so he could get your shirt off.

“I think I can guess” he hummed as his eyes ran down your body. “Tell me something Y/N did you ever think of me whilst you got yourself off”

“All the damn time” you whispered as you fumbled with the button of his jeans. “I just hope you live up to dream Clay”

“Oh baby it’s gonna be so much better” he smirked as he unfastened your bra, throwing it across the room, taking one of your nipples in his mouth, his tongue moving slowly making you moan.

“Please no more teasing Clay” you moaned “I need you, I need to feel you”

“Mmm now that I can do” he hummed against your skin before gently biting your nipple sending shockwaves through your body. “God you know how to drive me insane” he smirked as he undid your jeans, pulling them down your body before doing the same with your thong.

“Fuck why haven’t we done this sooner” he whispered against your skin, placing soft kisses over your body. “You know this won’t just be a one night thing, I know I’m going to get addicted to feeling you around my cock, hearing you moan my name”

“Oh god Clay please” you whimpered as he ran his finger over your core.

Within seconds he was now naked, and hovering over you, the tip of his cock rubbing against your clit making you dig your nails into his shoulders.

“Tell me if I’m too rough okay” he whispered against your lips before softly kissing you as he pushed himself inside.

A gasp left your lips as the feeling of his stretching you out, you knew he was packing but didn’t know it would feel this good, he started off slow letting you get used to him but soon got the hint by your moans and started to move his hips.

“Fuck Princess” he grunted in your ear “so fucking tight”

You knew you weren't going to last long, as your moans got louder with every thrust, every move sent shockwaves through your body making you claw at Clay’s back, no doubt leaving marks but in the heat of the moment neither of you cared.

“Clay fuck” you moaned burying your face in the crook of his neck as his thumb found your clit, finding the same pace as his hips and that familiar feeling was getting stronger in the pit of your stomach, you were close and knew he knew as he thrusted harder making you bite into his shoulder from the pleasure. “Shit, shit, shit” you panted as he pushed you over the edge of climax.

But he didn’t let off, he was chasing his own high, but he was close as his thrusts were getting slower and he pulled you as close to him as physically possible, you had no time to come down from your first high as another was building, his lips connected with yours as he pushed you down into the bed, both moaning into the kiss as you fell over the edge of ecstasy.

The feeling of him laying on top of you whilst you both came down from your high was one of the best feelings in the world.

“I normally last longer than that” he laughed, nuzzling his head in the crook of your neck.

“I have no doubt in that” you giggled as you stared at the ceiling, “I mean if that was just a quickie then you are gonna put me in an early grave”

“Is that right?” He laughed, propping himself up on his elbow “wanna see how many more rounds we can go?”

“Is that a bet Clay Spenser?” You smirked wrapping yours around around his neck “because if so game on baby”

@chibsytelford @mrsmarvelous1995 @supervalcsi

@everyhowlmarksthedead @talicat713

[ronans-sepiaphotograph]

Ronan Lynch, post-its and missing Adam Parrish:

Ronan knew he wasn't asking Adam to stay, he would never ask him to stay in the one place he always wanted to leave.

Ronan just wanted him to come back.

"Lynch?" "You're going" "yeah, I am. I'll be back for Thanksgiving tho" "how will you manage?" "Don't I always manage?"

Ronan huffed in response as he was folding one of Adam's shirts. Adam was leaving for Harvard tomorrow. It had been a couple of months since Adam had moved in. His lease on St. Agnes was up and Ronan didn't have to think twice about asking.

It had ended up in a fight and Adam snapping at Ronan. Ronan fought back too. In the end he had just stormed of Adam's room and driven for hours and come back around midnight to find Adam silently crying on his bed.

He had held Adam, let him cry because Adam Parrish rarely let his walls down, be vulnerable in front of anyone else.

"okay" "okay what, Parrish?" "I'll stay with you" "finally"

Adam laughed in his chest as they both fell asleep in each other's arms on Adam's shitty mattress.

"Ronan?"

Adam's voice brought him back to his sense. He realised his cheeks were wet and he was gripping Adam's shirt a little too tightly. Adam sat in front of him.

"what's wrong?" "You're going" "yes, you said that" "please come back" He kept saying it on loop, to Adam, until his voice cracked and his throat hurt.

Was it possible to already miss the person who was currently sitting in front of you?

"don't be stupid Lynch. Of course I'm coming back" "I didn't meant for Thanksgiving" "my answer will not change"

Adam ran his fingers over his eyebrows, and kissed him. He memorised every second of it. Of Adam's not so chapped fingers on his jaw, his chapped and warm lips, his breath tingling on Ronan's kiss.

"tamquam" "alter idem"

When he dreamt that night, he dreamt of Adam and Cabeswater and how just like that, Adam had given his eyes and hands to the magical forest.

When he woke up, there was a small snowglobe in his hands, a little Cabeswater sitting inside it and a charcoal BMW nestled between. He sneaked it into one of Adam's bags.

The next morning, Ronan watched Adam drive off, in the shitty Hondayota until he disappeared. Opal was sobbing in his leg and he picked her up and she hid her face in the crook of his neck.

He shut the door behind him and carried Opal upstairs and put her down on Declan's bed as she had slept off due to crying. He found a post-it stuck beside the bed, on the wall.

"tell her I miss her" was written in Adam's handwriting.

There was the ache. The ache called love.

He plucked the note off and put in his jeans' pocket and left. He had to make lunch now. He found more sticky notes in the kitchen.

"pink lid is the salt, green is the sugar"

"don't mix the spoons and the forks"

"don't overcook your pasta"

"eat on time, send me pictures"

"I'll miss your pancakes"

"I'll miss how you tasted of blueberries and mint toothpaste"

"I'll miss you seeing in your cute little apron"

He plucked each and every one of them, fondly muttering curses to himself as he carefully folded them and tucked them into his pocket. He called Adam.

"thanks for the notes, mom" "sorry if I don't want a salty coffee" "that happened twice, asshole" "thank god third time wasn't a charm" "I hate you" "I miss you" "me too"

He rambled on about random things as Adam heard and supplied his responses or just chuckled in response. He hung up because he didn't want to distract him any longer.

He made pasta for lunch and didn't overcook it. He sent a picture to Adam. Even if he hated to use the phone, he was glad he had one so he could send Adam texts and photos.

He ate sitting alone on the dinner table, some song playing on his phone. He missed Adam, there was no doubt about it.

He just didn't know he missed Adam this much.

How empty suddenly the house felt, how it felt like he was an intruder again, like how he used to sneak in. He kept finding Adam's notes everywhere.

He found one stuck to the lamp beside the couch as he was flipping through some book Adam had found interesting.

"don't fall asleep on the couch"

He rolled his eyes. Oh how well his boyfriend knew him. The book surprisingly was interesting. It was some historical book that Gansey had probably given to Adam.

It talked about the history of food and farming and crops and things. Adam had been reading it for him, he supposed. He kept finding more notes as he kept reading.

"My farmer boyfriend, I knew you'd read it"

"who's a nerd now, Lynch?"

"we should go wine making in France one day"

"you'd be a good farmer, a sexy farmer"

"will my classmates believe I'm dating a farmer"

"I'm so glad to have you"

Ronan didn't tear up, nope. He didn't find his eyes glassy and his lip trembling. Adam called him a few hours later.

"hey Lynch. I reached" "you and your fucking books Parrish" "did you like it?" "It was interesting. Anyway, how's Cambridge?" "Too fancy" "you'll survive, Harvard boy" "I have to survive so I can live with you"

Ronan was silent for a whole sixty seconds before he found his bearings again. He almost picked up the keys and started driving to Cambridge.

"yeah" "are you okay? Where's Opal and chainsaw?" "Opal cried herself to sleep and Chainsaw disappeared in the morning, still flying outside" "mhmmm. I- I miss you. Too much. I didn't think I'd miss you and Opal and home this much but I do and it sucks already" "me too Parrish. It just feels so empty here" "skype me twice a day okay? Please" "of course Parrish, I need to your face everyday in case I forget how pretty you are" "shut up"

There was beauty and power in making Adam Parrish smile and better, blush. Ronan was powerful enough.

Adam told him about Cambridge and his dorm room and complained about how fancy it was and grumbled about money and finding jobs.

"I swear to god Parrish, if I find out you're working unnecessarily again I will come to Cambridge and kidnap you and lock you here in our bedroom forever" "sure you will" "want to try me?" "NO"

Ronan laughed. Adam did too. He felt something settle in his chest. They stayed silent on the call, not talking as Ronan heard Adam's breathing through the phone.

"I'll skype you tonight?" "Yeah, pretty sure the brat will want to see you" "you don't?" "Don't be stupid"

Adam laughed before hanging up. Ronan found more post-its in his bedroom. They were literally everywhere. Everywhere.

"don't bring out a dead body" on Adam's side of the bed

"Thanks for the hand lotion, it smells like home" on the nightstand beside an empty bottle of hand lotion. Ronan dreamed him one that lasted probably forever.

"call me if you wake up at night, I mean it" on the headboard

"here's one of mine since I stole one of yours" on one of Adam's old hoodie on the bed.

"the first time I knew that for sure that I want this" on the window, stuck to the same toy.

"I wish I could steal more of your clothes" on the wardrobe door.

"shopping spree next time I'm home?" Inside the wardrobe.

"don't listen on high volume, not good for your ears" on his headphones.

"a little something from me" on a box. There was a knotted leather band inside, intricate and just like how Ronan liked. He immediately put it on on his wrist.

He found a few stuck together on the backside of the door.

"alter idem."

"I want this, for as long as you'll have me"

"I want this too much"

"I miss you, I'll miss you till I come back home"

"I'm a sap for you, Lynch"

"You're it for me"

"thanks for the straight teeth, again"

"come find me in your dreams, I'll find you in mine"

"don't do stupid shit"

"I love you, so much it hurts"

[ayyyeisa]

Home

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x Mikasa Ackerman

Word Count: 9.7k

Content: Modern! AU, fluff, angst, best-friends-to-lovers trope

Content Warnings: PTSD, alludes to alcohol

Summary: Childhood best friends Eren and Mikasa go through a series of ups and downs throughout their life, struggling to realize what exactly their relationship is

Notes: Thank you to everyone who helped edit this piece! I really appreciated all the feedback you gave me <3

Prologue

They’ve always been told that they’ve been friends since the moment they were born, and it was difficult to argue against it because it really did feel like it’s been a lifetime of friendship. There has never been a moment where one isn’t with the other. It had never been just Eren, and it had never been just Mikasa. No matter where they were and when it was, it was always (and always will be) Eren and Mikasa. The girl, Mikasa, even claimed to have known her friend Eren in her life before, and although he'd never admit it in front of anyone but Mikasa (in fear that his older brother would make fun of it), he did too. At 28, their friendship definitely had quite a few ups and downs, but if they learned one thing during their years of being best friends it was that they both wanted one thing more than anything in the world: to be with each other. That was it. It didn’t matter, when, where, with who, or for what reason. Just to be in the presence of one another was enough to make them happy.

27 Years Ago (4 months old)

Eren and Mikasa were born just barely two months apart, so it was no surprise that they wouldn’t even remember meeting as babies. As their parents were good friends, the couples jokingly tried to make their children be friends too, by making sure they saw each other frequently. Mikasa and Eren’s moms held their babies across from one another so they could see each other again. It was the first time they officially met, excluding the time the Ackerman family came to visit Carla when she gave birth to Eren. The moment baby Eren had set his big, forest green eyes onto Mikasa’s brown ones, he had tried to reach out to her, going as far as untangling himself from the red scarf (a gift given at his baby shower, though because of his size, could not be used as an actual scarf yet) that his mom used to swaddle him. Unfortunately, from his lack of motor skills, the little girl was awoken by Eren's hand. Mikasa shrieked, upset that she was pulled from her sleep. Zeke, Eren's senior by ten years, freaked, immediately apologizing to Mikasa's mom about Eren. "I'm so sorry Auntie! I'm sure Eren didn't mean it. Please don't be mad."

The woman just let out a light-hearted laugh. "It's alright Zeke. Look, Mikasa is fine now. Besides, her and Eren seem to be getting along pretty well," she said as she watched the two babies looking at each other, arms flailing like an octopus's legs in an attempt to reach each other. Mikasa had gotten a hold of an end of Eren’s swaddle scarf and was lightly tugging at it, while Eren continued to reach forward until his small hand lightly touched Mikasa’s forehead. They were giggling, almost as if they were keeping a secret.

23 Years Ago (5 years old)

It was their first day of first grade. They had been smart enough to go to school a year early. Yes, they. Mikasa refused to start school without Eren, and he refused to go without Mikasa. They were a team, never leaving each other’s side. The teachers were a bit surprised at first when they refused to sit with different people, but they soon got the message. Many actually found it quite cute. Eren had many girls crushing on him (yes, he was a very cute boy, and eventually grew up to be a handsome man). Although the girls didn’t completely understand their emotions at that age, they refused to believe that the cute boy prefered Mikasa over all of them. This of course was bad for Mikasa since it led her to having enemies from a young age. Even if she didn’t need total protection from them, she still had Eren to help. He was, however, useless when his own fangirls chased him around the playground. Though he always proudly claimed "As if I would even think of hitting a girl,” Mikasa was there to help him out when they chased him.

Not even a week in, Eren had met a boy named Armin-- a short and shy young blonde, who always seemed to be in the little library corner of the classroom. He was as smart as Misaka and Eren, if not smarter, therefore he also started a year early. The older boys were constantly making fun of Armin for his short stature, yet what caught Eren’s eyes the most was how no matter the power difference, Armin did not seem to back down. Even as the bullies picked and teased at him, he held his head high.

When Eren approached one day to ask why, Armin would simply state “I haven’t lost yet if I refuse to back down.” And it was that bravery, even in the most dire of situations, that had Eren grinning.

Hands on his hips, he announced, “my name is Eren, but you probably already knew that. And that girl over there,” Eren paused to point at Mikasa, who was watching from across the room to make sure Eren wasn’t getting himself into trouble, “is Mikasa. Let’s all be friends. Mikasa! C’mere! This is Armin and he’s super cool and smart.” After gesturing her over, he turns back to Armin with a grin on his face. “Mikasa is super cool too. She’s smart like you, and really strong. She’s my best friend, and I’ve known her my entire life. I just know we’ll all get along,” he said happily while readjusting his scarf.

And right he was, for that was the beginning of the trio’s epic friendship.

21 Years Ago (7 years old)

He took her hand, and led her to his horse. Just like how the leaves were swept away by the wind, so were they. If you watched, you’d see the horse getting smaller and smaller as they rode farther away. But maybe, if you listened, you would hear the princess’s and prince’s joyful laughter- a truly happy ever after ending for them.

“No, no, no, no!” That’s not what happened in my dream! If I remember correctly, we lived in a castle!” Eren exclaimed. He didn’t know where Mikasa got that dream before.

“Well, I’m just telling you what I saw in my dream. Maybe you’re the one with bad memory,” she snapped back, a frown on her face as she lightly tugged on the red scarf he always kept around his neck.

For the past couple months, they had been dreaming of being together in a number of lives. They often fought about them in front of Armin, constantly asking him which one of the two dreamt the right dream. Poor Armin. Luckily, the boy had a knack for reading any and every book he could find, and he decided to do something about it before the fight could escalate again.

“Maybe you two remembered different parts of your old life, and maybe even different lives. You never know, you could have been a prince or princess more than once,” he proposed.

Mikasa’s brows quirk in confusion. “You think so?” she asked.

Eren, on the other hand, fully trusted the other boy, knowing just how smart he was from all the reading he’s done. Grinning, he proudly stated,“Don’t doubt Armin, Mikasa. He’s super smart. I bet he’s right with just about everything.”

“Really?” the girl excitedly asked. “Wait, so Armin, do you know how babies are made?”

Omake:

Eren: “Of course he does! He read it in a book and told me. A stork plucks a baby from a pond and delivers it at night.”

19 Years Ago (9 years old)

“We were super cool ninjas with powers! Like Naruto!” Eren exclaimed, jumping, kicking, and punching the air as if he was fighting an imaginary person. His red scarf danced and swayed along with him as he energetically moved around. He briefly paused to glance at Mikasa, excited to see her reaction, when he saw her expression. It had his previously bright, green eyes dulling into a light grey color. Furrowing his eyebrows, he asked, “You okay Mikasa?”

She sat there, a worried look on her face. “Eren, will my mom be okay?” Even though she was young, she knew something went wrong when her mom had her. Her mom was always happy, yet sad when talking about Misaka's birth. She overheard one night from her parents that having Mikasa was very difficult for them, let alone having another child.

This question always broke his heart- no matter how many times he’s heard it. He stared at her for a moment before slowly walking to her, unwrapping his scarf off his neck. He stopped right in front of her-- her head right below his chin-- before taking his scarf in two hands and wrapping it around her neck instead. Finishing up the last loop, he messily placed the last few inches on top of her head before taking a seat next to her on the couch.

“I don’t know Mikasa. I don’t know. But you’re going to be okay, I promise.”

Eren had said “you’re” not “it’s,” and she couldn't be more thankful. The little boy could not promise that everything would be okay, but he could promise that she would. Why? Because she still had a home. Because he was there. And he always would be.

“I’m right here. And if you ever need more comfort, whenever and wherever we are, I’ll just wrap that scarf around you again,” he stated confidently. He hugged Mikasa, who in turn hugged him back before they laid down facing each other.

“You’ll really do it? You’ll wrap the scarf around me just like you did in the dream I told you I had last night? That one’s my favorite dream-- but I like all of our other dreams too. Promise me we’ll always talk about them. No matter how old we are, we’ll still tell them to each other, okay? Promise me,” Mikasa prompted as she rested her hand in between them.

It was no surprise when Eren gave her a small smile while stating “Promise,” before reaching out with his hand to interlock his fingers with Mikasa’s.

18 Years Ago (10 years old)

At ten years old, Eren was starting to believe what the other boys in his grade were saying about girls. At first, he tried to fight back and ignore their stupid antics, but he hated the fact that people thought Mikasa was stronger than him. He didn’t want her protection; he wanted to protect her.

“Why does she always speak for you, anyway?” one of them would ask.

“She’s a girl; shouldn’t you be stronger?” another would add.

“Don’t forget that girls have cooties.”

“She’s just plain scary too.”

Eren could feel his cheeks heat up at the comments, and if the boys were paying close attention, they would’ve seen his eyes turn a stormy grey. Whether it was from embarrassment of being below Mikasa, or anger of someone daring to badmouth her, he didn’t know.

“Don’t say that about Mikasa. Girls should be strong, and there’s nothing wrong with not being quiet and dainty,” he loudly proclaimed. But while his heart was burning to continue defending Mikasa, a part of him couldn’t help but hate the situation he was in. Why was Mikasa always the one to protect him, and why did it bother him so much?

Weeks had passed, and Mikasa noticed how Eren seemed to be avoiding her. Was it what everyone was saying about them? Or was it something else? The only other thing she could think of was when she gave him a nice punch (a well-deserved punch at that) for being an idiot and getting into trouble again. Because of him, they both had to stay in the classroom writing apology letters during recess-- it’s not like she was going to let him fight those bullies alone. But he couldn’t be THAT mad at her, could he? The jerk sort of deserved it. It broke her. But, Mikasa being Mikasa, she decided to confront him today.

“Eren, why are you ignoring me? Are you okay? Did something happen?” she asked.

“I’m not ignoring you, okay? Why can’t you just let me be and do my own thing. You’re not my mom, and I'm not your kid brother. I don’t need you around all the time, and I definitely don’t always need your help.” Eren spat, irritated.

Just as he was about to leave, Mikasa spoke again. “So you’re saying that I’m not important.”

Eren, caught off guard, froze. “No! I never--”

“You’re saying that those other boys, your other friends, are more important than me and that what they think matters more than me.” Mikasa clarified, tears starting to swell up in her eyes.

...1 second...

...2 seconds…

Gears were turning in Eren’s head, realizing what he’d almost done to their friendship-- what he’d almost done to Mikasa, his Mikasa, his best friend. He could feel his anger subside, and Mikasa saw his grey eyes slowly brighten to green. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way. Why don’t you come over today? We can play tag and hide and seek… Or I could even play with the dolls you made. You made one of me, right? Just the two of us. I promise this won’t happen again.”

“Good. I like Auntie Carla’s cooking. We’re walking home from school together, okay? Like old times,” she simply stated before walking away. She was not going to take any chances of Eren saying no. Of course, Mikasa expected his previous response. As much as Eren had been avoiding her, she truly trusted him to always come back. He always did. She could bet her life (and heart) on it.

17 Years Ago (11 years old)

Lunch was going well for the first day of 6th grade. It was an odd transition from eating with classmates in their grade level to being able to eat with just about anyone that attended their school. Eren, Mikasa, and Armin were finishing up their lunch when they heard a voice.

“Your long black hair is… really beautiful, by the way,” a boy with ash-brown hair shyly says to Mikasa. His blush was evident on his light skin and he could barely look at the girl. His name was Jean Kirstein, a new classmate of the trio’s; and he annoyed Eren to no end. Who did this guy think he was? It was their first year at South Paradis Junior High-- there were so many other elementary schools that fed into here that it was unlikely that they’d know all their classmates. And yet, this boy was already coming straight up to Mikasa and complimenting her hair. Mikasa was a rare beauty and Eren’s best friend; she deserved the best and only the very best. He wasn’t going to let some horse face of a boy take a chance with her.

Armin noticed Eren’s frown and how his eyes were a dark grey. He honestly considered teasing him: “Of course you’d be the petty, jealous type.” That’s all he had to say. It was fairly easy, and Armin was quite sure that voicing that thought would have Eren in a stuttering mess trying to deny it all. He’d probably be so busy denying it that he would’ve spent more time arguing with Armin than acting on his jealousy. Though against his better judgement, Armin kept his mouth shut, allowing Eren to speak up.

“Mikasa,” Eren said softly as he grabbed a piece of her hair, “aren’t you trying out for the martial arts team? You should cut your hair. You could get into an accident.” Eren didn’t even bother glancing at Jean; he opted for keeping his gaze on Mikasa as he waited for an answer.

“Yeah… you’re right. I should probably cut it,” she stated as she absentmindedly grabs the same strand Eren was holding, their fingers grazing one another in the process. Eren would never admit it, but his fingers burned right where his and Mikasa’s briefly touched. The physical contact didn’t last long, but he could still feel the warmth she emulated when he went to bed that night. He didn’t know why, though.

13 Years Ago (15 years old)

It wasn’t until sophomore year of high school that Eren realized just why he felt that way-- why he always had the urge to protect Mikasa to the point that her being stronger than him made him angry, why he was always hit with an overwhelming feeling of jealousy whenever Jean was anywhere near her, why his skin started burning at her slightest touch. It wasn’t until sophomore year of high school that Eren realized just why he started to look at his best friend a little differently, why she always lingered in his thoughts a bit longer and a bit more than everyone else.

He was, unfortunately, stupid enough to make homecoming plans without Mikasa. Last year, the two of them and Armin had all gone together, but Armin was finally going with Annie this year. It was of the utmost obviousness that those two had something going ever since she transferred to their school in 7th grade. Annie was a quiet girl who usually kept to herself, maybe occasionally speaking with Bertholdt and Reiner since they transferred from the same school. But otherwise, it seemed as if only Armin was able to break through her shell. It was honestly quite ironic how Eren and Mikasa often teased Armin for his incapability to express his feelings, when he could’ve easily pointed out theirs. The ache in his heart when Annie was away --the way he constantly missed her and wished she was around-- was no different from what Eren and Mikasa secretly told Armin when they were apart. How could Eren and Mikasa not know?

“Historia asked me to homecoming,” Eren had told Mikasa one night after they both respectively finished martial arts and baseball practice. He could see the small glare she gave him, as she stared at him for what felt like hours without saying a word.

“Okay, then just ask her out.” Mikasa didn’t even try to hide her annoyance.

“It’s not like that. I don’t-- There’s nothing-- We’re not like that. I think she’s just pretty bummed that Ymir moved and needs a friend. You know she doesn’t have that many ‘cause her dad’s been sheltering her. You can come with. I told her that I was planning on going with you,” Eren replied. It’s not like he wanted Mikasa to feel left out or unimportant. One of his friends needed his help, and he would never-- could never-- turn his back on a friend. They were the most important people in the world to him, almost on the same level as his parents, Armin, and Mikasa. Of course he would be there if one of them ever needed a hand.

And it was because Mikasa knew him so well that she tried to control herself. Mikasa wanted to argue-- wanted to tell Eren that there were plenty of other people Historia could’ve asked. She had Sasha, Connie, and Jean too. She could’ve even asked her. Why did it have to be specifically Eren? She was jealous, she acknowledged that, because all she ever wanted was to be near Eren. The thought of him belonging to some other girl hurt so badly. For him to have another home besides her, for her to not be able to call him her home-- she didn’t know if she wanted to even be alive if that were to happen. Eren was everything to her. But another part of her just wanted to let it be. If Eren was happy, and as his best friend, shouldn’t she be happy for him too? All she ever wanted was to be near him. Romantic relationship or not, she already had that. Eren cared about her and Armin more than anyone in the world; she has everything she’s asked for. Shouldn’t that be enough?

“No, it’s ok. You don’t need to explain. She needs a friend, and I think you should go. Jean and I were talking in class today. He actually offered for us to join their group because Sasha and Connie wanted to do a whole extravagant group meetup, with pictures and food and everything. I’ll just tag along with them,” her lips drew into a straight line in an attempt to smile. She knew Eren well enough to know that he knew --that she knew-- that he knew that it was most definitely not okay. But to her dismay, neither acknowledged the elephant in the room nor the growing tension between them.

Eren didn’t want to. He was too busy feeling the blood rushing through his ears at the mention of Jean asking Mikasa out. There was only one other time he remembered feeling this jealous-- it had been all that time ago, when they first met Jean back in 6th grade. The horse face had told Mikasa her long, black hair was beautiful, and while Eren agreed, it pissed him off to no end that someone other than him was looking at Mikasa. Of course, it was no surprise that many boys and girls were looking at her-- she was beautiful and strong and everything that a woman should be. But having random people look at her didn’t compare to the jealousy he felt when it came to Jean. Eren wanted Mikasa all to himself. But what right did he have to whine and complain when he was the one to bring up taking Historia to the dance? Jealousy was an ugly feeling, and he hated how accustomed he had gotten to feeling it. Stupid Jean, stupid world, stupid homecoming, stupid him. Oh how he hated himself more than ever for putting himself in that situation. All he ever wanted was to be with Mikasa, and here he was doing the opposite-- here he was starting a small rift between them. One stupid statement, and he already felt far, far away from home.

12 Years Ago (16 years old)

It was concerning, really, how months later, Eren and Mikasa still couldn’t address the divide between them. While the two often got into small arguments before, they were usually solved within a week, if not immediately. This was the first time that it ever lasted more than a few days, if this could even be considered an argument. They were talking, but something felt off-- both of them could feel it. Mikasa didn’t want to push boundaries. Eren was still her friend; he was safe and nearby, so could she really complain? As for Eren, he could feel the ache of Mikasa’s absence run deeper than his heart. It made him sick in a way he couldn’t completely describe— like he was homesick or something.

While he saw her everyday at school, she often paired up with Armin or Jean instead. While he ate lunch with her at the same table as their friend group, she usually spent her time listening to Sasha ramble on and on about meat and food and the so-called cute senior in her culinary class named Niccolo. Even when he was sitting right next to her in the driver’s seat as he dropped her home after practice, their conversations ran shallow. He missed their inside jokes and their talks about their dreams. For months, he’d been wanting to tell her his recurring dream of one of their past lives. How every night, his sleep would send him to the peaceful mountains of Switzerland, where he lived in a tiny cottage with her. They were alone-- isolated from society-- and they often needed to fish, hunt, and gather their own food, but they were together. They were together and they were happy, and God help him, that’s all he ever wanted.

He wondered that of the many other dreams she’s had of what they presumed to be their past lives, if she saw that same dream too. He hoped so. He hoped that when he was away, she felt that same ache too. He hoped that in the same way no one could ever replace her in his heart, no one would ever replace him in hers. Call him selfish, but he wanted Mikasa all to himself-- wanted to be the only person that would ever claim her heart. He didn’t want anyone-- not Jean, not even Armin-- to have Mikasa. So why was he letting her slip through his fingers?

It wasn’t until months later, near the end of summer, that the two finally resolved whatever issue was going on. With school out, Historia rarely saw anybody outside her friends, and even then, she was only really comfortable around Eren-- only he knew the pain of missing someone. Historia knew he was suffering. He never told her-- never really told anyone except Armin-- how he felt about Mikasa, but Historia could see the longing in his eyes whenever he gazed at Mikasa and the sadness they held whenever he talked about her. And it was for this reason that she refused to leave Eren alone. He needed a friend, and so did she. There was no way she’d abandon him-- no way she would abandon anyone in need.

Over summer, the two started volunteering at homeless shelters and orphanages. They’d occasionally invite the whole group over: Sasha, Connie, Jean, Mikasa, Armin… There were days that the seven of them would volunteer during the day and go out for dinner in the evening to catch up. But the amount of time that the group met up was nothing in comparison to the amount of time Historia and Eren spent together. It was evident in the way they talked at their group outings, and it didn’t help with the growing tension between Eren and Mikasa either.

Seeing them together, seeing them so happy-- seeing Eren so happy without her-- had Mikasa feeling things. Was she missing something-- a component or aspect that maybe was pushing Eren away from her? Or was she too overbearing? What did Historia have that she didn’t? There must be a reason why Eren seemed to be wanting to spend more time with the other girl as opposed to her. She missed seeing Eren’s smile and his happy, green eyes. She was both angry and hurt, and while she knew she had no right to speak, for she was Eren’s best friend, not his lover, she could only take so much before snapping.

She hadn’t meant to say it; at least, not out loud and most definitely not in front of Eren, but her jealousy got the better of her. Historia and Eren were once again telling the group about some project they went on the other week to help orphans in a different country. They were laughing and reminiscing about the troubles they went through during their time there when Mikasa spoke.

“We get it. You guys had a great time,” her voice dripping with disdain as she glared at Historia. It wasn’t until Mikasa noticed everyone staring at her that she realized the rudeness of what she had said. Hesitantly, she said “Sorry. I’ve, uhh, I’ve had a rough few… months. I’m just gonna go,” before hastily leaving the table.

“Wait!” Historia called after her.

“We haven’t even ordered anything yet, aren’t you hungry?” Jean added.

She ignored them both, though, and opted to continue walking out of the restaurant, even as the others tried to call out after her.

Armin used that distraction to nudge Eren’s side. “Eren,” he whispered sternly, grinding his teeth together. “It’s now or never. Don’t let it get worse. Are you really going to let her go?”

And it was because Armin knew both Mikasa AND Eren so well that he didn’t doubt that it was all he needed to say to get the guy moving. Not even a second later, Eren was scrambling off his chair and past his friends as he hurriedly followed Mikasa.

“Mikasa! Mikasa, wait. What was that? What’s wrong?” he asked. One of his hands was gripping her arm and holding her in place. He had tugged at it lightly so that Mikasa was slightly facing him, and his eyes desperately searched hers for an answer.

“Nothing,” she stated, trying (but failing) to keep her composure. It’s not like she could come out and say “Oh, I’m jealous of Historia. I hate how she spends a lot of time with you because I secretly love you, Eren.” She could barely admit that fact herself, let alone confess it to someone else.

Eren stared at her in wait, desperately wanting to know what they had and where they stood. Anyone watching could’ve easily seen it in his eyes. “Please,” he begged when she remained stubbornly quiet. “Please tell me what’s wrong. Don’t you miss the way things used to be? What’s happened between us?”

“Historia--”

“Historia and I are just friends! I already told you that, back during homecoming. Why did we drift apart just because of that? Why did it seem like you weren’t interested in talking to me anymore? Why did we stop hanging out everyday?” Eren urged Mikasa to answer. He was already fighting back tears, when one question that had been nagging at him the past few months made its way out his mouth. “Why did we stop talking about our dreams?! Didn’t we always promise to talk about them? Have you given up on a useless idiot like me?”

Seeing Eren cry stopped Mikasa in her tracks. She stopped trying to get her arm out of Eren’s grip and settled for looking at him straight in the eyes, near tears herself. “Eren,” she says with soft urgency. It was only then, when he felt her sad gaze on him and lack of resistance against his grip, did Eren completely let go of Mikasa. She grabbed both his shoulders, giving him the slightest shake. “Don’t say that about yourself. Please. You’re not a useless idiot. It’s just-- I… really missed you. I’m sorry. I know you told me that you and Historia were just friends, but I didn’t like how jealous I felt. I wanted you only by my side, because it’s always been Mikasa and Eren, and Eren and Mikasa, and seeing you with someone else-- I… I don’t know. I guess, I’m not used to having to be apart from you. More than anything in the world, all I want is to be near you. When you kept visiting Historia and spending the summer with her, it just felt like you didn’t need me around anymore, or that you maybe didn’t want me around,” Mikasa confessed, her blush evident.

If Eren heard her correctly, then maybe she was feeling the same ache that he’d been feeling. Maybe, just maybe, she did love him the way that he loved her-- not as a sibling nor a best friend, but something more. He raised both his hands to grab her face, never breaking eye contact.

She could see how his previously gray eyes had started shifting over to green. Mikasa lifted her hands to hold onto his wrists needing to stabilize herself, as she felt like she would faint at any moment with the way Eren was holding her. Since when did his touch start making her knees so weak? And since when did his gaze start making her self-conscious and nervous?

“Mikasa,” Eren whispered, closing his eyes. He didn’t think he’d have the courage to look at her when their faces were close-- so close that their foreheads were nearly touching and he could feel the warmth of her shaky breaths on his face. “I’ll always want you with me,” he whispered softly as he tried to lean in. He wanted to kiss her-- wanted to know what it’d feel like to have her lips on his-- but what if he was wrong about his assumptions? What if Mikasa didn’t feel the same ache in her heart as he did? What if he was just like family to her and nothing more? If he kissed her and he was wrong, it’d for sure ruin their friendship, and the rift between them that they were currently trying to heal would be damaged for good.

He was too busy worrying about all that to realize that Mikasa, too, wanted to kiss him. He didn’t even realize the slight tilt up of her head nor the way her fingers lightly squeezed his wrists before she stopped in realization that he wasn’t actually going to kiss her. Neither of them wanted to make the first move in fear of ruining what they had-- whatever it was. And so instead, Eren went limp and rested his forehead against hers, eyes still closed, and Mikasa did the same. They didn’t move until Mikasa’s stomach growled.

“I knew you were hungry. It’s 7 o’clock and you usually eat an early brunch,” Eren laughed.

“Eren, your eating habits are worse than mine. You’re probably hungrier than me. Let’s go back inside,” Mikasa snapped back with a smile.

Things felt normal again and both were the happiest they’ve been in months. Their friendship was okay. Romantic relationship or not, they were still Eren and Mikasa, and Mikasa and Eren-- they were still each other's best friend. They were together, and to them, that’s all that ever mattered in the world. They were home.

10 Years Ago (18 years old)

Many moments from the next few years were filled with awkward silence or slight tension, ones caused by the fight they had at 16. It was like the rift never fully healed, and that made it much easier to get into small fights. Maybe it was because much of the problem itself never went away. The arguments grew from insecurities and miscommunication; they were two teenagers stupidly in love, yet too scared to say anything. Regardless, it was Eren and Mikasa, and so the fights never lasted too long.

It was the last weeks of summer before the two had to go off to college, and unlike two summers ago, Eren made sure that they were making every last moment count. From getting ice cream to hiking at nearby state parks, Eren came up with plans to hangout every single day. He had to, especially because they’d be spending the next four years apart. Both were originally going to Purdue University, along with quite a few of their friends. Eren was going for aviation, Mikasa for elementary education, Armin for political science with a minor in oceanography, and Jean for business.

Unfortunately, times were cruel and news channels were filled with stories of a possible onslaught of World War III. It seemed surreal, but the growing tensions across many countries of the world had many people worrying if it was actually possible. Eren, in particular, found it interesting enough to change his mind about college. He still wanted to fly-- wanted to know the feeling of freedom-- but first and foremost, he felt a strong duty to protect his country because it’s where the people he loved lived. If the possibility of an oncoming World War III was true, Eren wanted to be prepared. He still hadn’t brought it up to Mikasa or Armin, his decision being so last minute.

He had spent countless nights contemplating on whether he should go or not. If he entered the military, he’d be signing his life away for four years. That’s four years of not being able to always see Mikasa, assuming he’d be able to hide it from her. He just had to keep his decision a secret long enough for Mikasa to not be able to follow him in. Eren knew that she wouldn’t hesitate to drop everything if it meant being able to be with and protect him, but if Eren cared about her the way he claims he does, shouldn’t he be protecting her too? They should be equals, not whatever this was. Just this once, he wanted to be the one protecting, even if it meant being apart from her.

And so, that’s how he came to the decision the night before Decision Day to enter the military as opposed to Purdue. It broke his heart and worried him to no end that for the next four years, he’d be far away from Mikasa-- far away from home. What if something happened while he was gone? Something bad, and he wasn’t there to help her through it? Sure, Jean and Armin would be there, and Mikasa would surely meet other people too. But would they be able to be there for her in the way she deserved? He knew Mikasa better than anyone else, even Armin, so could anyone really live up to his expectations of what he wanted for Mikasa? All these questions ran through his head as he drove Mikasa back home from the Great Smoky Mountains National Park, another one of the trips he planned.

Mikasa, not one to not notice Eren’s changes in behavior, glanced over at the driver’s seat, wondering why Eren suddenly got quiet. “Eren?”

At the sound of her voice, Eren was immediately pulled out of his thoughts. But one look at her, and he was filled with sorrow again. Soon, he’d have to leave her and it’d be another four years or so before they would be able to return to the old days, if going back to the old days was even possible. For all he knew, this could be the very last time they’d talk to each other like this again. These last few days could be the very last time that Eren and Mikasa, and Mikasa and Eren are a thing. He wanted to make the most out of it-- whatever time he had left. “Mikasa,” he stated before pulling over to the side of the road. He wanted to be sure he could clearly see her face, without any distractions. “Let's get out of here,” he continued, looking her in the eye.

She stared at him, observed his movements, the color of his eyes. They were a mix of green and gray, much lighter than his usual forest green eyes that signaled his happiness, but not exactly the stormy grey eyes he had when he was angry or sad either. It confused her, because in the rare times that she didn’t know what he was feeling, his eye color usually gave it away. But this time, it’s like he was both happy and sad. “What do you mean?”

Eren was practically quivering in fear that she’d be angry or reject what he was about to offer. But he kept reminding himself that these last few days would be the last time he’d see her in a long while. They’d be apart for the first time since they were born, and he wasn’t sure how either of them would be able to handle it. He looked away to gather his nerves before turning back around and taking a deep breath.

“Don’t be mad with what I’m about to say. Please.” Eren waited for her nod before continuing. “The night before decision day, I actually decided I was going to be joining the military-- the army. And before you even think of telling me you’ll join too, don’t. You needed to decide by decision day, so there’s no point in joining now if we’re going to be in different regiments. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I just wanted to do this to protect everyone, while not influencing any of your decisions to pursue your dreams…” he paused again, waiting for Mikasa’s reaction.

The girl wanted to scold him for making such a hasty and dangerous decision. She didn’t know where to begin. The military was a four-year commitment, which meant that they’d be apart for four years. Would she be able to handle that? They had never been apart for anywhere near that long. And what if the military changes him? Even if he didn’t get deployed, he’d still have to go through basic training and the like. She had heard stories of how the military, even just camp, changed people. What if some part of him never comes back from that? Would he still be her Eren-- the same Eren?

“Mikasa, stop thinking about it. Let’s just… enjoy what time we have left of summer break, okay? I told you this because I was hoping you’d say yes to what I’m about to ask you. For the last few days of summer, let’s go to Switzerland, in Crans-Montana-- in between the mountains where we went on that band trip junior year. Remember how Armin and I climbed the balcony on the third story of the building, just so we could spend the night talking about the most random things? We stayed up till sunrise and nearly got caught staying together in the same bedroom,” he chuckled. “Let’s go there again. Just the two of us. Mikasa, come with me. It wouldn’t be home with you.”

Mikasa, who was shocked and deep in thought, could only manage to give him a small smile before taking the opportunity to reach over the console and grab one of Eren’s hands. “One condition: you wrap this scarf around me one last time, okay?”

6 Years Ago (22 years old)

“Hey Mikasa, have you heard from Eren? I don’t think I’ve received any letters from him in a while,” Armin said.

Their usual group was having a meet-up at their favorite restaurant, a celebration for finishing finals; they’d be graduating in less than a month’s time. And yet, there was a sort of sad or empty feeling to the group, as Eren wouldn’t be home for another 6 months or so. He had to finish his military contract, and there was no way for him to visit at the moment due to his most recent deployment.

“No, I haven’t; the last letter was from a few weeks ago. I think he’s busy. Last I heard, he was deployed somewhere in the Middle East,” Mikasa replied softly.

“Have you told him already?” asked Jean. He gently placed his arms across her shoulders from his seat next to her.

Even from across the table, Armin could see the ring glistening on his finger. He had read somewhere that only about 7% of men actually wore engagement rings; he wasn’t surprised that Jean was of that percentage. It matched the diamond on Mikasa’s hands that were resting on the table. Armin didn’t know how to feel about the entire thing. Mikasa did genuinely look happy, and she deserved every bit of it. So did Jean, especially after all that he’d done for Mikasa when Eren wasn’t able to be there for her. It wasn’t really in his place to judge— what did he know about love? It had taken him years to spend time with Annie, and even then, it took many more awkward conversations and longing glances for them to establish the bond between them. So maybe it did make sense for Mikasa to accept Jean’s proposal. While everyone felt Eren’s absence, he was sure that he and Mikasa felt it the most.

Jean was always there to comfort Mikasa, even when Armin couldn’t. He never overstepped his boundaries, knowing that it was improper to make a move on someone whose heart belonged to someone else, but as the time between Eren’s letters lengthened, the more Jean found himself attending events with Mikasa, or being left alone to study for classes together since Armin wanted surprise Annie, until one day she started smiling at him almost the same way as she did to Eren. A part of him initially wondered if Mikasa really did love him, or if she just appreciated his presence. But those doubts didn’t last long because it just wasn’t like Mikasa to do something like that.

Mikasa was glad that he did believe her when she said she loved him, because she did. Jean was kind and funny; he was hardworking, empathetic, and an amazing leader. She saw how he treated his peers and subordinates with respect and often put himself in their place to make sure they received the best treatment. He also smiled at her in this certain way. She couldn’t describe it, but it made her heart flutter. She loved having him around because he was one of the only people that filled the void of Eren’s absence. She loved when he would pull out a chair for her on lunch and dinner dates, when he brought her breakfast at her dorm in the mornings, and when he helped her put on her jacket even when she didn’t need help. She loved him-- Jean; she really did. But she also knew a part of her would never really let go of Eren, not completely.

“No, I haven’t,” Mikasa stated hesitantly. “I thought he should find out in person, especially since it’d be awkward for me to ask him to be my maid of honor when he’s not even a girl,” earning snickers from Sasha and Connie, who were also seated with them.

“Wait, so you guys have been engaged for months now, and Eren still doesn’t know?” Annie asked, her voice blunt.

Armin lightly kicked Annie’s foot under the table. “Annie,” he softly warned. The two stared at each other as Jean attempted to break the awkward atmosphere.

“No, it’s all good. We wrote to him saying that we started dating, but I guess we’re waiting to tell him about the engagement. He’s on Mikasa’s side after all. He deserves to hear it from her, whenever she’s ready.”

. . . . .

It wasn’t until Annie and Armin were on their way home from lunch did Annie dare to speak again. “Correct me if I’m wrong,” she started. “But Jean’s just in denial that Mikasa is prolonging the engagement because a part of her will never stop loving Eren,” she tells Armin

“I don’t think he’s in denial… Just that, a part of him-- well, a part of all of us-- know that Eren will always have a place in Mikasa’s heart. It doesn’t mean she won’t move on with her life. Though, I will admit that I think Jean deserves someone who will love him completely.” Armin said. And though Annie remained silent, he knew her well enough to see the slight hesitation in her actions, as if she was contemplating on whether or not she should say something. “Eren’s always been adventurous, wanting to explore the world rather than stay here; he’s always been a small distance from Mikasa and me, no matter how close we try to be to him. I think--” he paused, trying to process his thoughts into words. “I think that he just needs time to understand what she means to him. They both do.”

1 Year Ago (27 years old)

The wait for Eren’s return came by slowly, and the way he took the news of Mikasa and Jean’s engagement was quite anti-climactic. Everyone in their friend group expected more, but he was just blank and glaze-eyed for what seemed like months after he returned home. Even years later, not much of his behavior changed. The military had not been what he expected. He went in excited to serve his country-- determined to protect his people and loved ones, no matter the sacrifices he had to make. But the horrors that awaited him were beyond anything he could imagine.

Everytime he closed his eyes, he could hear bombs, screaming, and gunshots, along with the sights of blood and blurred vision. He’d somewhat grown accustomed to it, at least on the outside. He no longer jolted at the slightest touch or immediately stood alert at loud noises. Unfortunately, he still felt far, far away. There were times when he didn’t feel like he was safe or at home, but in fear of worrying Mikasa and the others, he opted for staring blankly at his surroundings.

He could practically hear his mom nagging in his ear “How many times did I tell you to NOT join? Did I not tell you that the army isn’t worth it?”

Eren almost agreed. Almost. Because while a selfish part of him wished he stayed with Mikasa, he couldn’t exactly regret leaving. Yes, more than anything in the world, he wanted to be with her; It had been his dream when he was younger, and still was his dream now. But how could he compare his happiness to the lives of millions, or more importantly, his friends?

He hoped his unhappiness didn’t show too much-- hoped that his friends wouldn’t see how his jaw clenched in anger at the thought of not being able to be with Mikasa the way he was in his dreams.

But they did, at least, Armin and Mikasa did. They noticed because this new Eren, so emotionless and easily irritated, wasn’t him. It broke their hearts to see him so different. It broke Mikasa’s heart to see the caring and determined boy she grew up with-- the one that would do anything for his family and friends-- was just… gone. Her heart ached because she had waited so long, waited 4 years to see him again, only for it to seem like he never even came back. She wanted nothing more than to be able to hug him, ask him what the matter was, and tell him everything was going to be okay because she was there-- the same way he always did when she was out of it. She wanted to tell him she lov--. No, she couldn’t do that, because it wouldn’t be fair to Jean. It wouldn’t be fair to Jean who always cared about her well-being when Eren was gone, who never overstepped when he sensed something going on between her and Eren. It just wasn’t right for her to be saying any of that last part to Eren.

Not that it would change anything. It was like he was always angry. And whenever someone asked, he’d just rudely brush them off. Which is how Eren and Mikasa got into this position: as if the past few years have not already been filled with awkward glances and underlying tension, Eren and Mikasa were, once again, fighting.

Eren could only bite his cheek while shaking his head, “That’s just the thing, Mikasa. You don’t understand. You would never be able to, and you’ve just really been pissing me off lately. God, I hate you.”

“No, no you don’t. I know you, Eren,” she insisted softly.

He hated how it didn’t phase Mikasa, as if she was expecting him to say that or that his opinion didn’t matter to her. But while this was so, he hated even more her unwillingness to give up on him. Why wouldn’t she just let go. He doesn’t deserve any type of kidness-- not after abandoning her for some stupid dream in the military, not after letting some other man claim her, not after all the awful things he had to do while he was in the Middle East. He didn’t deserve any kindness from Mikasa-- he didn’t deserve her.

And yet, he was angry that Jean was with her, because even after everything Eren had done, he still wanted Mikasa to be his. He wasn’t mad at her-- God no, he could never be mad at her-- but he was mad at the entire situation and all his conflicting emotions.

His anger got the better of him, of course, and he continued speaking. “Don’t you think your life is so pitiful? I might be fucked up in the head, but at least I’m not stuck in a long engagement, working a regular 9-5 schedule like some robot who’s following orders. I actually have some interesting things going on in my life,” Eren sneered. He internally cringed at the harshness of his words when he saw Miaksa recoil. He hit her where it hurt, he was sure. Good. Maybe if she hated him, it’d be easier for him to move on with his life without her beside him.

It took Mikasa a second to recollect herself. She honestly wanted to cry, but with the way Eren had just treated her, she did not want to give him the satisfaction of it. “Okay,” she tried to calmly say. “You clearly don’t want me around, so I’m just going to go,” she stood up from the table they sat at before walking away. Maybe Eren was too far gone-- too far changed after his military service-- too bitter at how life turned out for him. She deserved better, right? It was okay to walk away after what just happened. Slowly taking off her red scarf --the scarf he had given her so many years ago when they were just 9 years old-- she didn’t dare to look back. It was too bad she didn’t-- if she did, she might’ve caught Eren shedding a tear before quickly wiping it away.

Present Day (28 years old)

“Mikasa, we need to talk,” Jean stated firmly. It had been months since Eren and Mikasa’s big fight, and while everyone in their friend group knew something happened, no one was actually sure what exactly went down. Years of being Eren and Mikasa’s friends taught them to stay out of it. They’d solve it eventually-- they loved each other too much to stay apart forever. Which is the thought that solidified Jean’s decision to do what he was about to do. “I think we should break our engagement,” Jean announced slowly and quietly, as if it pained him to say it-- it probably did.

Mikasa reached out to grab his hand, “Jean--” she started before pausing.

Jean outstretched his hand in a gesture to let him continue.

“I’ve thought about it a lot. There is no doubt in my mind that you do love me. I know that. But I also know that you’ll never love me in the same way you love Eren. Even after everything, you still have his scarf. Mikasa, love like what you guys have-- it doesn’t happen often. Don’t let him go,” Jean’s voice cracked at his own advice.

Mikasa couldn’t deny it-- she could only stare at him sadly while apologizing. What for? She didn’t know. Maybe for leading him on? Or not loving him as much as Jean deserved?

“Hey, it’s okay. I love you. I want you to be happy, and if that means letting you go, then I will learn to live with it,” Jean gave her a small smile.

It made Mikasa want to cry. She probably hurt him a lot, with him always knowing he wouldn’t live up to Eren, and yet here he was, being understanding, a gentleman. He was letting her go. “Thank you,” she whispered before she gently kissed his cheek.

And before Jean knew it, she was gone. Just like that. Everything seemed to run by in a blur that he hadn’t even realized how much time had gone. One second, he was watching Miaksa leave, and the next, he was sandwiched between Connie and Sasha at a bar. He had a drink in his hand that he didn’t even remember buying. Had he been drinking?

“Yo, you seem out of it, man,” Connie stated while hooking his arm around Jean. It earned him a nudge from Sasha, who muttered something about letting Jean wallow in his despair a little longer. He had just let Mikasa go after all-- someone who he’d loved for over a decade. “Uhh what I meant to say was, I hope you know that you deserve someone who will love you with all their heart, and all of their mind, body, and soul. Someday, you will find someone who makes you happy, then you’ll forget just how much this hurts,” Connie says, him and Sasha rubbing Jean’s back in comfort.

. . . . .

Mikasa was never one to back down from confrontation, so even she found it surprising when a week later, she still hadn’t talked to Eren. It’s not that she didn’t want to, but rather, didn’t know how. Luckily, Eren was impulsive as ever, and so everything seemed to fall back into place when he showed up at her doorstep one day.

“Hey,” he says with a short breath, as if he was trying to hide his exhaustion from running or whatever extraneous activity he was doing beforehand.

“Hi,” Mikasa replies, looking at his disheveled hair and the sweat-stained neckline of his shirt. Did he rush over here?

“I heard from Jean… about umm… about what happened,” he pauses, seeming to take a moment to gather his thoughts. “I’m sorry for all the trouble I caused you-- what I’ve been causing you. But I just wanted to tell you this before I lose my courage: I’ve uhh I’ve been having this dream for a while, practically forever. Of all our dreams, our past lives-- presumably, at least-- this one is my favorite. We were together in Switzerland, in this small cabin. There were trees everywhere and mountains in sight. Nothing ever really happened, except… normal everyday things. We hunted, fished, gathered wood… it was simple, but I was really, really really happy. I was happy because I was home with you. Those nights and my memories of that dream kept me going, even during my hardest times.” He notices how she was slowly registering what he said, so he gives it one last push. “What I’m trying to say is--”

“I know, sorry it took me a second,” Mikasa lightly laughs. “Why did you come back?” she dares to ask. It was a little awkward, like they haven’t been friends for the past 28 years.

Eren could only smile before grabbing her hands in between them, slightly hesitating. He grips them a little more tightly as if to stabilize himself. “Because we’re Eren and Mikasa, and Mikasa and Eren. Because you’re my best friend. Because I love you. Because you are my home, and I’ll always find my way home back to you.”

[loudsuitlover]

Bad mom

A/N: Doctor Harry’s Blurb again. I’m doing different things here and now the narrative is going to change. I feel like writing like this now. Hope you feel like reading like this too! 

He still holds her close in bed even after eight years of marriage. Who would have thought that he’d be such a cuddler? But then again he couldn’t possibly know for before he wouldn’t want to sleep with anybody else but now, fourteen years later, he gets a shiver if he thinks of not having the shape of her body marked on their mattress. 

She was already asleep when he got home and he would chop his own finger off before he woke her up these days so he checked on the kids, silently, just because he missed their chubby hands and the way they would stink his white shirts every time and how Hughie would say daddy and Dylan would always prefer his mum. They were both fast asleep on their matching beds, one on each far wall of the room and their room was a little messy so a small smile crept onto his lips for he reminds Blue telling him kids are just kids, babe, and they are messy and so is your wife, so you gotta get used to it. 

Baby Ana’s deep breaths soothe his heart as he watches his youngest baby’s cherry mouth opened buried under thick, pink lips just like her mum’s. Harry thinks she looks so much like Blue when she’s asleep but then she’d open her eyes and they would be a light green, just like his, and he never even dreamt about making someone so gorgeous. 

It might look weird from the outside, a man getting home after 16 hours of duty and watching his family sleep one by one but he’s so used to it he doesn’t question it anymore. If he gets home at night, he’d check on his sleeping babies and then he’d undress and get to bed next to his calm. 

She’s wearing one of his t-shirts and has her hands under her chin and looks like a little spoon even if the space behind her as remained unoccupied when she fell asleep. He smiles because that’s his spot and he feels his heart fluttering before he finally feels the soft mattress under his heavy lengs and he rests his head on the pillow, inhaling her scent through her soft natural hair and he gently places a hand on her waist, not wanting to disturb her, but in a second her hand find his and she takes them to her chest so he’s fully holding her. He smiles behind her, he’s not sure whether she’s awake or not, so he just presses a kiss against her cotton covered shoulder and let sleep take over him. 

He doesn’t know how long he’s been asleep for when he hears his youngest whimpering from her nursery but Blue’s already not in bed. Her spot is still warm though. He sinks his head on the pillow and stares at the ceiling only illuminated by the white moonlight coming in through the window and he waits for some minutes but when she doesn’t settle, he gets up and makes his way down the hall and towards his daughter’s nursery. 

His wife is holding her and she’s rocking her and whispering sweet nothings but the little one doesn’t stop crying so he notices, his wife is crying too. 

“Come on, lovie.” Her voice croaks. “I don’t know what you want...” 

Her hand cups her daughter’s cheek as she rocks and shushes her but she wonders why does it seem so hard for them to get along. She’s raised two boys already and even though they were indeed allergic to sleep at some points, she always calmed them down... With Ana though, she doesn’t seem to get it. 

“I don’t know what you want...” She repeats. “You’re not sick.” She whispers. 

Harry places a hand on her shoulder and she flinches scared. 

“Sorry” He whispers. 

She gives him a small smile and shakes her head. He won’t say he likes seeing her crying because he doesn’t, he hates it, but he likes that she’s not afraid to do that in front of him. His hand caress her shoulder warmly and she rests her head on his chest as she keeps rocking the fussy little one. 

“I’m sorry we woke you.” She whispers. “I just... I can’t settle her, Harry.” She cries too. “I don’t know what she needs, I... It took me forever to put her down last night and now...”

Her husband shushes her. He presses a kiss on her forehead and takes the baby from her and her cries become louder so he tells his wife to go back to bed. She needs to get out of there, she needs to stop watching her baby cry like that because it breaks her heart; it breaks her heart to think she might be in pain or hungry or scared and she can’t help her. Her baby girl doesn’t seem to find calmness on the arms of her own mother so she can’t help but feel like a failure. 

She makes her way inside the bathroom and she washes her desperate tears off with warm water before she has a look at herself in the mirror. She looks exhausted and she hasn’t played as much as she’d like with her boys today. She sent Hughie into the playroom earlier, right after dinner, because she just wanted to have a second of quiet and she feels terrible for that. She didn’t really listened to Dylan talking about that book he’s reading either, she pretended she did, but really she was thinking about the groceries she needed to get the following day; and God, she wished she would have listened to him. 

She wishes she was better. She knows they deserver better. All of them. The boys, the baby and her husband. She turns to the side so she can have a look at herself in the mirror. She hasn’t worked out in months and her belly hasn’t looked flat in more than a year and her hair is frizzy and her skin is dry and she has the darkest dark eyes she has ever even seen; and she’s a doctor, so that’s saying a lot. 

Tomorrow will be another day and she can plan everything again and she can have a schedule. She thinks Harry’s day off is tomorrow too so maybe he can take the children to Gemma’s and she can sign up at the gym or she can wake up at five, yeah, and have a run before the day starts. She doesn’t need time to read either, she probably spends too much time reading anyway, and instead she can actually play with her kids. She feels like she never really plays with them. 

She’s tiptoing along the thin line between sleep and reality when the door of their room half-shuts and her husband silently walks in. She doesn’t remember exactly when baby Ana had settled, but she knows it was him who calmed her down. She’s embarrassed but her hazel eyes meet his green ones and he’s giving her a warm smile despite the evident tiresome on his eyes. He’s been at the hospital working for more than 12 hours and she gets home to this... 

He leans closer to her and she wonders how he even has the will to do such a thing when she’s disguting and probably smells of milk, for her breasts still leak sometimes, and is the farthest thing from appealing she can think of. But he stills leans in and captures her dry lips with his on an innocent peck. He looks so good, he’s always had, and that two-days stubble look so good and she wants to cry again. 

“Go back to sleep, m’love.” He whispers. “Baby’s asleep too.” 

Her heart draws in. He put her down, she can’t even manage to calm her down. 

“Do you think I’m a bad mum?” 

Her hazel eyes bore into his and his heart breaks when he realizes she’s seriously waiting for an answer. So she really doesn’t know? She really thinks he might think that? 

“What are you talking about?” He frowns. “Where’s this coming from?” 

She turns her body so she’s facing the ceiling instead and her back is resting against the mattress. 

“Hughie said he liked daddy’s porridge better this morning” she starts “and I didn’t even know what he meant. I thought we did it the exact same way... And then Dylan was so excited telling me about his book and I didn’t pay attention to him” she sobs “and baby Ana, I think she just doesn’t like me.” She shrugs. 

“You’re her Mum.” Harry whispers. “Of course she likes you. She shushes faster with me because she can’t smell the milk but she wouldn’t go a day without you, I know that.” His fingers gather his wife’s tears as he keeps talking. “And Hughie just meant cinnamon because the other day we ran out of honey so I added cinnamon instead and he loved it. I must have forgotten to mentioned it to you. And about Dylan... Dylan tells you every little thing that comes to his mind, it’s normal that sometimes you disconnect, baby.” He chuckles and despite her tears she chuckles along. 

“He’s a very smart boy.” She says. “He thinks a lot and he’s pretty imaginative.” 

“I wonder who he got that from...” He jokes and she smiles at him. 

“I’m sorry.” She confesses. “I’m sorry that you get home to a wife who looks like she doesn’t know where the mirror is and who can’t manage to calm her own freaking baby and who... doesn’t even let you sleep at night with her senseless drama.” She rolls her eyes. 

“Hey” his fingers gently grip her chin and he makes her look into his eyes “I love you” he reassures her “like crazy and every hour I’m just counting how much longer until I get to be with you, okay? So don’t think that. Please. I love you, Blue and I’m so fucking glad and lucky for having you and the family we’ve made together. I wouldn’t change a thing.” 

“Not even my muffin top?” She pinches her belly and he chuckles. 

“Not even. I think your body is perfect.”

“No, you don’t.” She laughs. “I’m chubby.”

He rolls his eyes before he hovers her and pins her against the mattress. His lips smash against hers in an almost teenage way and she feels that same fire on the pit of her stomach, much like she did fourteen years ago and he feels like a hormoned boy, despite his forty-one years of life and he thinks he’ll always feel vulnerable and desperate for her. 

“I thought we were past this, love.” He whispers against her lips. “You’re the sexiest woman on Earth.” 

His hand moves down to her ass and he squeezes her flesh making her smile. 

“And you say you never lie.” 

“That’s right.” He kisses her again. “I don’t.” 

“I love you.” She says against her lips. 

“I love you too.” 

He aligns his hips with hers. His right hand supports his weight on the mattress next to her head while the other squeezes her flesh on her ass and hips. He’s never been able to understand why or how she could ever get insecure and during their time together, it’s true she’s gotten a lot better, but she has still sometimes been insecure about her body and he’s hated every time. 

But they understand each other; they’ve had for years and he’s never stopped wanting to be close to her. Ever. His hand moves down to her belly and he slips his fingers under the hem of her sweatpants and her knickers, feeling how wet she is on his fingertips. 

“Mhm, baby” He hums against her lips. 

“Yeah, embarrasingly wet, I know” she giggles “you’re so hot, H, there’s nothing I can do.” 

He laughs against her mouth. Is that what she really thinks? Well, he attracts female’s attention, he’s not an idiot, he notices that; but he’s getting some grey hairs now too and she’s still six years younger, like she’s always been, and she really is the most beautiful woman he knows. He’s seen his coworkers staring at her and her own students whispering about it when she gets a male one in practice. But somehow, she sleeps in his bed every night and she could leave but she doesn’t so she must feel the same way. 

His fingers thrust inside her and she arches her back and moans. He keeps kissing her and is amazed at how in these moments, it feels like time haven’t passed. She’s the same Blue and he’s the same Harry but they’ve moved in together, they’ve gotten married, they’ve done surgeries together, they’ve had three kids, they’ve bought a house, he’s been sick and she’s taken care of him; she’s been sick and he’s taken care of her; and he wouldn’t change her or anything they have together for anything in the world. 

It’s in these moments too, when Blue doesn’t feel like she has to be better or like she’s not doing enough; she is enough. She’s more than that. She’s what he wants and she’s what she wants too and everything is fine. She’s lucky, she’s so damn lucky for the family she has and for the husband she married and for everything else. 

His fingers speed up and she sinks her head on the pillow so his mouth attacks her neck and she moans louder. 

“Baby, we’re gonna wake Anie up.” 

“Then be quiet.” He whispers on her ear. 

She giggles at that and his teeth skim her skin as he grins but his fingers keep moving in and out of her and he’s touching just that place she loves and she needs him so bad. She loves him and she wants him and she so desperately wants to feel him stretching her like every other time he’s had her before. 

“Baby” she moans “if we wake her up...”

“We won’t.” He whispers. 

“It’s so hard to put her down...”

“Yeah, I know, it really is hard to put this down.” 

She giggles again and he chuckles at his own joke but his fingers keep bringing her to the edge and her nipples are getting harder as she bites her bottom lip. 

“Do you want me to stop?” He smirks, already knowing the answer. 

“No” She gasps “but you should.” 

“There’s something down here that doesn’t agree.”

He chuckles as her walls start throbbing around his fingers and her back arches as she feels her mind leaving her body and strong waves pushing all her stress out of her too. 

Harry smiles and rests his forehead against hers. 

“Better?” 

She nods. 

“Is there anything else I can do for you?” 

She nods again and her hands cup his jaw as she kisses him deeply. He’s a sucker for these kisses, when her tongue pushes inside his mouth and she lets him know how much he means to her. 

“But we might wake Anie up...” He grins. 

“Oh, shut up and fuck me.” 

He laughs. 

He takes her sweatpants and knickers off and she does the same with his white boxers. His hard lenght springs free and hits her wetness and he circles his hips so she can feel him adding pressure on her. His hands grip her waist and she knows he’s seconds away from thrusting inside her so she takes a deep breath and gets ready to take him and like that his manhood slips inside her inch by inch and she throws her head back and sighs.

He pushes in and out of her slowly and her hands stick to his shoulders and his biceps as she pulls him closer. Her soft fingers tangle on his hair and she pulls from it so his mouth covers hers and he bites on her full bottom lip. 

“Is this what you wanted?” He whispers and despite the years, he sounds so sexy to her, he always does when he wants to. 

“Yes.” She gasps. “But I want more.” 

She feels him smiling against her mouth and supporting his weight on her waist, he threads her onto him again harder and faster and her head spins until she’s afraid it might turn molten. She feels her own bowels bouncing inside her and the screams get stuck on her throat as he keeps pushing in and pulling out of her. 

“Don’t stop, Harry, don’t stop.” 

“Fuck.” 

Her low moans mix with his grunts and her hands travel across his skin, almost marking him when he hits the right spot and his hands hold her waist as he pushes inside her. He only feels like this when he’s fucking her and that’s why he’s addicted to her because this is the best feeling in the world, when his heart flutters and he can feel his pulse on his temples and his skin is covered in sweat and goosebumps and he can feel the urge to cum on his spine. He loves her. He loves this woman with everything he has and everything he doesn’t. 

“That’s it, love.” She whispers on his earshell. “Fuck me, I needed this so bad. I fucking love you, H.” 

“Fuck” he grunts “I love you.” 

She holds his shoulders close to her chest and they gasp into each other’s mouths as he keeps pounding inside her. She can feel the weight of overwhelming pleasure falling over her and she can think of nothing other than him and the way he sounds and the way he smells and how he’s touching her inside. Her legs tremble around his hips. 

“Come on, baby” He whispers “Cum for me.” 

He’s close. He’s so fucking close, he’s not sure he can hold it in anymore. Yet he wants to feel her. He knows she needs this but he needs her just as much. 

“Cum with me, baby.” 

She does and she feels his hot, sticky cum filling her and a wide smile draws on her face and she sinks her head on the pillow but he pulls from her chin so he can kiss her and he does it deeply and slowly and she can feel it, how much he loves her, and she just loves him back. 

They don’t say anything else until they fall asleep tangled up on one another. 

The four of them are awake when she wakes up and as she makes her way to the kitchen, she can’t help the little smirk on her face. Harry made sure she could sleep in and that alone warms her heart so walking inside the kitchen and finding her little smurfs sitting on the table helping their daddy make breakfast drives her crazy from love. 

Baby Anie jumps on Harry’s hip and stretches her arms out for her and she feels her heart about to explode with love for the little angel. It seems like they’re back to being friends. Harry gives the baby a look before his eyes meet with hers. They smile, sharing the secret of what happened hours ago in their bed, and she mouths a silent thank you and he mouths back love you. 

She takes the baby from his hip and pecks his lips swiftly and her boys look up from the pancakes and smile at her. 

“Morning, mummy!” Dylan hugs her waist and her fingers caress his dark straight hair as she hugs him close. 

“Morning, dear. Morning, Hughie.” 

“Morning, mummy!” Hughie grins. “We made pancakes!”

“Yeah, they smell awesome! Thank you, boys!”

“And read, read what we wrote on them!” Dylan cheers. 

“Dy wrote it!” Hughie explains with evident proud on his voice and she smiles down at him. 

On the pancakes, on wobbly Nutella 5-years-old boy’s handwriting, can be read “Best mummy ever” and a heart and her eyes get teary because she hasn’t been feeling that lately. She gives Harry a look as if saying don’t do this to me in front of the kids but he just grins and shrugs as if he hadn’t orchestrate the whole thing. 

“I drawed the heart!” Hughie catches her attention and she smiles at him. 

“It’s drew, Hugh” Dylan corrects him “you drew the heart.” 

“Yes, I did.” He smiles. “Chopsy mixed the flour.” 

He had come up with that nickname for his baby sister on his own and his mum had grown to love it, sometimes calling her Chopsy herself. 

“You did such a great job, my lovely.” Her voice almost croaks. 

And Dylan, being the oldest of them three, even if he was just five years old, tilted his neck up so he can look into his mum’s eyes. She gives him a smile but he can somehow see it, even if he doesn’t fully understands, he kind of knows so his small hand rests on top of hers.

“You really are.” He whispers. “The best mummy ever.” 

Her lip trembles and she has to chuckle so she doesn’t freak the little boy out when she wipes her tears away. 

“Thank you, baby.” She kisses his cheeks and his little arm wraps around her shoulder. 

Baby Anie’s hand gently slaps her brother and he shuts his eyes when their mum starts laughing. 

“I love you.”

Blue kisses her boys’ foreheads and they both start eating while she sets Anie on her high chair. Her husband is moving around the kitchen, setting his and his wife’s forks and their cups of coffee, when she presses her hands on his chest and stops him. 

“And you too.” She smiles. “I love you so much.” 

[rizumary]

Akeno Hana woke up in a small hut on the far edge of the forest. There was a castle on the hills; at night, the whale swum above the highest tower and sung a melody that made her heart ache. The forest was empty; the ocean on the sky was serene and blue. She was all alone in this strange world. Then, she dreamt. [Hajime/OC; Medieval AU]

Story by nutteu | Full story on AO3

That night, for the first time since she woke up, the whale didn’t sing. And that night, for the first time since she could remember, she dreamt.

The tavern was loud and full and warm; patrons laughing and chugging their drinks, soldiers resting and chattering with their friends, travellers asking left and right about the town, the bard singing on the corner of the room. It was unbridled with life and sound that Hana was taken aback for a moment. She remembered this tavern; she crossed it on her way to the market. “Hana! The orders for three tables!” she heard someone shouted, startling her as she was the one being addressed. Upon hearing that, she snapped out of her thought and quickly moved to the source of the voice, only to find herself already standing there with trays full of drinks and pies. Hana froze on her track. She wasn’t mistaken. It was herself, with the same hair, and same pale eyes, and the same voice as she laughed and teased the severe looking young man behind the bar. “Come on Kyoutani!” she heard her doppelganger merrily said. “Stop with the sour face, you’re scaring away our customers.” The young man scowled even deeper at her. “I’ll show them scary.” Hana heard the tinkling laughter, and remembered that ever since she woke up, she never laughed. This was the first time she had ever heard herself laugh like that. As the other Hana turned, Hana squeaked and stepped back to avoid her. How could she explain it anyway? Hello, I’m Hana too, I came from another world. She would be burned at the stake in a second with that kind of explanation. But as Hana prepared herself for some sort of explanation regarding her existence, the other Hana went past her. No, went through her, and Hana thought, oh. Was this… a dream? Now that she thought about it, no one around her seemed to notice her as well. And as she attempted to put her hand on someone’s shoulder, it completely went through. She was no more than mere spirit in here. A faint whisper of existence within this strange dream of herself. Was this a memory, or was this a fantasy born from her desire to find someone else in her lonely world? Her train of thought was broken as she heard the sound of tray falling down with a loud clang. On the other side of the room, other-Hana was surrounded by a bunch of nasty looking men. One of them had her hand caught in a grip as he leered at her with unnaturally sharp teeth. “Pretty little thing,” the man growled. “Do you know who you’ve just poured your piss-poor alcohol on? I can have your head on a platter if I wanted to.” “I’m sorry, Sir,” other-Hana said, she was trembling, but she held her ground. “I will make sure to clean your clothes properly, and replace your orders with a new one. So if you would please let me go—“ Hana winced as a loud slap echoed on the room. The rowdy, loud tavern suddenly turned silent. She saw a violently red mark bloomed on her own cheek. Some people gasped, and from the corner of her eyes, she saw Kyoutani along with a stern-looking woman walked to where the commotion was happening. “Don’t you dare talk back to me, you filthy wench!” the man roared, and Hana closed her eyes as his palm raised for the second time. But the sound never came. Instead, there was a deafening silence in the room that she could hear even the breath of people closest to where she was standing. When Hana opened her eyes, there was another man there; clad in armor with chinks on them, holding the brute’s hand with one hand and another holding a sword to his neck. “Let her go,” the man said. His voice was deep, stern, and there was something in it that made Hana inched closer. She felt like there was an unseen string that kept tugging her forward to be closer to this man, just a tad closer. “Gently,” the man added when the brute snarled, “One wrong move and I’ll have your head on a platter. You are creating a ruckus, and threatening the citizen of this kingdom. By the rule of this kingdom, you have to pay a hefty sum for your trouble, as well as serve your time in jail for physically harming an innocent maid. If you tried to retaliate, I am allowed to take out the threat. Which means, you and your pathetic bunch. Let her go.”

There was no mistaking the threat and authority in his voice. The brute growled lowly, but let other-Hana go. The knight glanced at her, who was scrambling away from the both of them. Kyoutani and the older woman were already there. Immediately, Kyoutani took Hana away from the scene while the woman stayed. Her beautiful face was hardening into a severe glare that made Hana’s blood ran cold. She wouldn’t want to get into trouble with this woman.

“Thank you, Hajime,” the woman said. “I can take care of it from here.”

The knight—Hajime, Hana whispered to herself—nodded, and withdrew his sword. The brute snorted and leered at the woman. “You better let your knight here take care of things, woman. What can you do exactly, to take care of—“

Whatever he was about to say, Hana couldn’t hear it. His words were cut off as the woman suddenly, faster than she could see, struck the man with her dainty-looking palm. She didn’t stop there. As soon as the brute recovered, she slapped him again, with enough force to make the man twice her size staggered backward. And then again, when he snarled and lunged to attack. She deflected the attack as easily as blocking off a child; her movements fluid, yet strong.

“You hurt my employees, and I’ll hurt you back ten times more painful than that,” she said when he was struggling on the floor. “You and your disgusting bunch will be banned from this tavern, as well all other taverns I have connection with. I’ll let you go this time, but if you dared to come back, dared to churn up another trouble, I will make sure it will be your last mistake.”

The man looked like he was about to attack again, but the woman whirled on her heel, and knocked him out cold with her boots. There was a loud crack as his head hit the floor. She stared down coldly at his underlings, and they all scrambled off as fast as they could, dragging their boss’ limp body along with them.

“I’ll clean up here,” she then said. “Do me a favor and check on my sweet little things on the back room, will you, Hajime?”

Hajime nodded at her. “Yes, Madam.”

Hana let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. The woman seemed to be the owner of this tavern by her words. But she was really strong, and amazing. Hana admired her even if she didn’t remember ever meeting the woman in her life. And the knight seemed to know of her prowess, too, if his respectful behavior was to go with.

Hajime. She tilted her head to the side, and wondered. There was something about him. Was it because he saved her in this dream? No, it wasn’t just that. She was sure, there was something that drew her in to this knight.

She followed him to the back room, where other-Hana was biting her lips to prevent another sob from falling out of her mouth. Her cheek was red, and there was a tinge of blue on the edge of it. The man had slapped her very harshly. It looked like Kyoutani had given her some ointment for it, as well as the bruise on her wrist from where the man had held her. She was sniffling even as Kyoutani sighed and patted her back. He looked awkward and out of place there with his scowling face and kind gesture.

When he noticed Hajime, however, he quickly withdrew his hand and put on a deep frown. As if he was afraid to be caught being soft. Hana chuckled, glad that none of them could hear her. This boy was adorable.

“If you’re here, that old hag is done then,” he said, and walked up to the door. “You take care of this snotty idiot. God knows how many orders are delayed by now.”

With those parting words, he left and Hana stepped closer to the other two in the room. Hajime smiled stiffly at other-Hana, but he kept standing there. She supposed it was hard to crouch with his armor on. Or he just didn’t know whether it was okay to sit next to her. Hana smiled at him; soft, unbidden. Even if she only met him in her dream once, she liked Hajime and his awkwardly sweet behavior already.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

Other-Hana nodded, still trying not to cry again. “Y-yes, thank you, Sir. For saving me back there.”

He smiled a little. “You don’t need to call me that. My name is Iwaizumi Hajime, and Madam Li was the one who handled the brute, anyway. You should thank her later; she wiped the floor with his arse. Literally.”

That got a wet chuckle out of other-Hana. She looked up at him, and shyly offered a smile. “Madam Li is amazing, isn’t she? She’s very protective of us, too. I’m very thankful that we’re under her care.”

Hajime nodded to her, and finally, sat next to her on the bench. So it wasn’t the problem in the armor, then. He was just shy and awkward. Hana moved closer to them, to see Hajime’s face more clearly. She wanted to memorize these people’s faces—his, especially. Maybe, maybe, someday she’d meet them in her world if she searched hard enough.

“You’re a very brave girl for standing up to that man, Miss,” he said kindly.

There was a red hue on other-Hana’s face that wasn’t just from the bruise. She looked down, biting her lips to hide a smile. “Thank you. Um—my name is Akeno Hana.”

“Okay, Miss Akeno,” he nodded, took off his glove to offer a hand to her. “It is very nice to meet you.”

She glanced at him, and slowly took the offered hand. “Me, too.”

They were left in silence after that, but neither seemed uncomfortable. Until Hajime stood up and gestured to the door. “I have to go. I have to continue my patrol tonight. I hope you will be alright. Until next time, Miss Akeno.”

Akeno nodded absentmindedly, most probably still dazed from their interaction. When Hajime reached the door, however, she suddenly stood and reached out to him. “Wait! Uh, t-thank you! I will bake you some raspberry pies if you come again. So—so, please come… again…”

The tail of her words was small and hesitant, but Hajime laughed and nodded at her. His smile was warm and his eyes alight as he said, “Well then, I look forward to meeting you again. I will see you soon.”

Akeno’s heart must have been beating as fast as Hana’s right now. That smile, those eyes; Hana felt something that she had never even thought about ever since she woke up alone: affection. Hajime’s smile had swept her off her feet in just one glance, and she felt like she was so light that she could fly off to the ocean sky.

She watched Hajime’s back as he turned, and as soon as the door was closed behind him, her surrounding turned dark and reality pulled her back to her world.

Hana woke up with wonder in her heart, and a hope that warmed the tips of her fingers. Outside of her hut, the forest rumbled gently, and the birds were silent. The whale bellowed its song softly, and Hana felt more alive than she had ever felt since she woke up.

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